#so keep an eye out for those every now and again c:
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dynjay · 8 months ago
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Status: CLOSED!
I don't think I have the bandwidth to do any at the moment :'0
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Howdy! I'm opening up commissions to save up for some upcoming health expenses! If there's a type of commission you want that's not shown here, please DM me :]
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slvbun · 10 days ago
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BLOW YOUR MIND ♡ Rafe C.
Rafe being an insistent bastard after watching too much porn.
content: fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, praising, +18 pls read at your own risk.
english's not my first language, so sorry 4 the mistakes, lol
Rafe had a mission, and he wasn’t backing down. He’d seen it in those grainy porn videos late at night, girls soaking the sheets, trembling, losing their minds, and he was hell-bent on making his girlfriend do the same. She was sprawled out on her bed, legs spread wide, her body glistening with sweat under the dim glow of her bedside lamp. Her pastel pink sheets were already a mess, damp with her arousal, and her breathing was ragged, her voice hoarse from moaning. Rafe’s fingers were buried deep inside her, slick and relentless, his wrist aching from the effort, but he didn’t care. He’d made her cum six times already, six fucking times, and still, no squirt. He wasn’t stopping until he got it.
“Rafe, please,” She whimpered, her thighs trembling uncontrollably as she squirmed beneath him. Her voice was a broken plea, her hands clawing at the sheets, then at his arm, trying to push him away. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t take anymore!”
Her face was flushed, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, her lips swollen from biting them through every orgasm he’d ripped out of her.
“You can, baby,” Rafe growled, his tone low and commanding, though there was a thread of praise woven into it. “I'll blow your mind. I know you’ve got more in you.”
His free hand pinned her hip to the mattress, keeping her still as his other hand worked her over. Two fingers curled inside her, pumping fast and deep, the wet, obscene squelch of her pussy filling the room. His thumb pressed hard against her clit, rubbing tight, ruthless circles, and she cried out, her back arching off the bed.
“Rafe—oh god, it’s too much!” she sobbed, her voice cracking as another wave of pleasure crashed through her. Her walls clenched around his fingers, her seventh orgasm hitting her like a freight train. Her whole body convulsed, her toes curling, her nails digging into his forearm. A gush of wetness coated his hand, but it wasn’t enough, not the flood he was chasing. He grinned, feral and determined, licking his lips as he watched her unravel.
“That’s it, princess, cum for me again,” he rasped, his voice dripping with filthy pride. “You’re so fucking perfect, look at you—dripping all over my hand. But we’re not done yet.”
His fingers didn’t slow, didn’t falter, even as his knuckles cramped and his arm burned. He added a third finger, stretching her tight, soaked heat, and she screamed, her hips bucking against his grip.
“No, no, please—I can’t!” Her begging was desperate now, her words slurring as overstimulation turned her brain to mush. Her clit was so sensitive it hurt, every brush of his thumb sending jolts of pleasure-pain through her. Tears spilled down her cheeks, and Rafe’s cock twitched in his jeans at the sight. She was a wreck, his wreck, and he fucking loved it.
“Yes, you can,” he insisted, leaning down to kiss her trembling lips, tasting the salt of her tears. “You’re my good girl. You’re gonna squirt for me, I know it. Just let go.”
His fingers pistoned faster, curling harder against that spot inside her that made her see stars. The pressure built, her body tightening like a coiled spring, and he could feel it, she was close, so fucking close.
Her moans turned to high-pitched whines, her head thrashing side to side.
“Rafe—fuck, something’s—oh god!” Her voice cut off in a choked gasp as he pressed down on her lower stomach with his free hand, his fingers slamming into her g-spot with brutal precision. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth falling open in a silent scream, and then it happened.
A hot, forceful rush of liquid sprayed from her, soaking his hand, his arm, the bed beneath them. She squirted hard, the clear fluid drenching everything in its path, and Rafe let out a triumphant, “Fuck yes!” as he kept going, milking every last drop from her.
Her body shook violently, her thighs clamping around his wrist, but he didn’t stop until she was a boneless, sobbing mess, the sheets ruined beneath her.
“Holy shit, baby,” he panted, finally pulling his dripping fingers out. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean with a groan, savouring her taste. “You did it. You fucking squirted for me.” He crawled over her, cupping her tear-streaked face in his hands, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “I’m so proud of you, princess. You’re so goddamn amazing.”
She could barely speak, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Her eyes fluttered shut, her body limp and spent, but a faint, exhausted smile tugged at her lips.
“You’re… insane,” she whispered, voice shaky.
Rafe chuckled, brushing damp hair off her forehead.
“Yeah, but you love it,” he teased, settling beside her and pulling her into his arms. The bed was a disaster, his hand ached like hell, and she was still trembling, but fuck, it was worth it. She’d given him exactly what he wanted, and he’d never seen anything hotter.
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julymusings · 2 months ago
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you're good to me, baby
with the roar of the fire my heart rose to its feet, like the ashes of ash i saw rise in the heat. settle soft and as pure as snow, i fell in love with the fire long ago.
or; because the red hood bleeding onto your living room carpet is exactly what you need right now [3.6k]
Jason Todd x fem!reader; based on this lovely ask; ngl this turned into a personal vent jason doesn't show up until 1k words in LMAO; warning there’s blood (duh) and reader is suggested to have heavy anxiety; pre-established relationship where reader doesn’t know his identity + muzzle red hood bc HOT
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Compartmentalize. Create baskets in your mind. Analyze the situation, and drop the corresponding emotion in the appropriate basket.
One: You had a fight with your best friend. She called you selfish because you weren’t enthusiastic about her new relationship. She just can’t seem to understand that no matter how happy you want to be for her, it’s painful to see everyone find safety in another person when you can’t. Every attempt at romance is squashed by something or the other that you keep doing wrong. I thought you were hot, your latest dating attempt had said when you ran into him and asked why he never texted back. But you’re kind of a lot. Not something I have the space for right now, you know?
Two: There’s an important presentation today, one that could determine the fate of your position in the company. Your coworker, the one who’s convinced you stole his promotion (he just flirted with the higher-ups while you actually completed the requirements), refuses to let you forget how much is at stake. All it takes is one misstep, one stutter, one hesitation, and he will take it as an excuse to demand your demotion— or worse, termination. You’ve been preparing for this presentation for three weeks. If after all that effort it’s still not good enough, maybe you should be fired.
The emotions here? Frustration. Anger. Exhaustion. Jealousy. Just to name a few. But there’s no time to dwell on anxieties right now, so you shove those thoughts aside. Drop them in their compartments and move on because, after all, if you can strip them down to their bones and find where they stem, you can yank those anxieties from the ground before they have the chance to root. And then there’s no need for unnecessary heartache, right?
(Who cares if the baskets are overflowing, crumpled fragments spilling over the sides like garbage in a landfill? Who cares if the room of your mind is so packed that you’re pressed against the wall and breathing becomes painful.)
The digital clock beside your bed reads 6:12. The numbers blink in and out of the window, their red dots and dashes taunting your heavy eyelids. You still have forty-eight minutes of peace before it will scare you awake. Its beeping will ring so loud and angry that the adrenaline from the startle will power you through your morning routine, and your beating heart won’t dare still to entertain wishes of just five more minutes. 6:13 now. You have forty-seven more minutes of peace, minutes which should be spent sleeping, giving your poor brain a break from itself. But you can’t. Every time you close your eyes and begin to sink below the level of consciousness, your heart pumps a house-special cocktail of cortisol that laces through your bloodstream and convinces you that if you fall asleep you will miss your presentation and you will get fired. The off-grid escape plan formulating in your head switches from hypothetical to tentative when your neighbors, apparently awoken to lust as well as tired by it, start going at it again. You want nothing more than to bang on their door and scream obscenities until they hate each other enough to never touch again, but you resign yourself to consciousness, giving up on the dream of what would now be forty-four more minutes of sleep. 
It’s Friday morning; only one more day to get through before the sweet release of the weekend finds you. (The whole weekend will be spent contemplating the start of a project, feeling like two days is not nearly long enough to complete anything, and dreading Monday until it finds you with nothing done and the same, endless cycle awaiting.)
After completing your morning routine 44 minutes early, you use the spare time to go through your presentation once more, just for good luck, wrapping up the third run-through just in time to hear your alarm to leave for work.
The presentation goes decent, at least well enough to quell any doubts about your ability to do your job. Your coworker ate his words for sure, and you might have enjoyed the look on his face had you not mentally checked out as soon as you finished your closing remarks. Rush hour traffic has the ice cream tub you bought at the convenience store dripping condensation all over the passenger’s seat and your hips hurt from being in the same sitting position for most of the day, but you remind yourself that peace is only a few miles out. Stopped at yet another red light, your grip tightens on the steering wheel. Breathe in. Breathe out. The line of cars starts to move forward.
When you get home, your frustration is close to boiling over. You kick off your shoes right at the door, your keys and bag following close behind.
Far be it from you to break down on the floor in the middle of the room, the plan begins to formulate. There’s a box of tissues on your desk– that can go on the nightstand, along with two of the chilled water bottles you keep in the fridge for after you work out. And you’ll need something for the tissues, right? The small wastebasket from the bathroom should be fine. You drag it over to the side of your bed, sitting in your usual spot to make sure you placed it at a reachable distance. You won’t want to get out of bed to wash your face after this, so a washcloth should go next to the tissues. And an extra one, just to be safe.
You keep a set of comfortable clothes ready, the nicest, softest pajamas you own that you only wear after an everything shower. This shower, however, is a quick one, not much more than a few minutes under scalding water to comfort you, if nothing else. The light pink pajamas are a high-quality cotton and you feel like you’re in the clouds when you slip into them. Remaining is the ice cream, which you set out on the counter right before your shower so it would thaw just enough to be soft but not melted, With everything in your room ready, you go to retrieve the ice cream but stop with a startle when you round the corner.
“Jesus,” you mumble.
He’s just sitting there, doing nothing except bleeding out on your cream-colored carpet. He’s spread out on the couch like he owns the place, head leaned back against the wall as he lets his injured arm hang over the armrest and drip blood and dirt onto your cream-colored rug. The liquid seeps into the expensive wool, staining it with reddish-brown hues and the scent of iron, and he doesn’t even notice.
“Hey.” The Red Hood lifts his head when he sees you.
On any other day, you’d be quick to action, hauling him up off the couch and sprinting for the first aid kit under the bathroom sink. Today, your arms are too heavy and your gaze remains rooted on the widening splotch of red against white. Your throat feels dry. “You’re getting blood on the carpet.”
He peers over the armrest. “Oh, shit,” he curses, lifting his arm to hover it over his lap. He sounds robotic through his muzzle mask. His hood, pulled down to reveal his thick black hair curling at the ends from humidity and sweat, rests on his back.
I don’t have time for this, is what you want to say. You want to scream it in his face and kick him out for having the audacity to think he can come and go as he pleases, that you’re nothing more than a drive-through emergency room who will drop everything if he gets so much as a paper cut. But you can’t say any of this, and you do want him to come to you whenever he needs help. God knows he won’t go anywhere else.
Holding back your heavy sigh, you wordlessly walk to the bathroom. He takes that as an invitation to follow. 
It’s clinical. Rehearsed. Neither of you speak. It’s a partnered dance long since committed to muscle memory, steps you can take in your sleep. He knows to seat himself on the step stool you got just for him, for nights like these. He knows where to find the first aid kit and which supplies to hand you first. You know the exact steps to follow. Check the palms for abrasions. Antiseptic to the lacerations. Concussion exam. 
Maybe he can sense the air of tension surrounding you, because he doesn’t say as much as he usually does (though, granted, it’s still not much). It’s a reflection of your dynamic several months earlier when this arrangement began, back before you’d managed to chip away at the surface of his rough exterior. You notice the way his fingers curl against his thighs when you, somewhat carelessly, wipe the dirt from his skin with more pressure than necessary and the way his eyebrows tilt inward when you work slower than usual. You notice, but you ignore it.
We both know you have at least a dozen people who could do this for you. The words echo in your mind. Don’t act like I owe you this. If anything, you owe me a new carpet. These are things you wish you could say, but never will. Being realistic, you’ll probably never be able to say things like this. You’ll be subjected to all the shitty coworkers and unsympathetic friends and exploitative vigilantes of the world for the rest of your life.
This isn’t his fault, you remind yourself, but still, your lips turn down and your jaw feels tight with the effort to keep your face still, to not burst into tears right on the spot. In the second it takes for you to calm yourself, your hands pause. He notices. He says nothing. 
It’s not until you’re finished with cleaning the blood from his arm wound and giving him a wad of gauze to hold against it that he tests the waters and asks, “Is it too bad?” 
He sounds automated, but over the last few months, you’ve learned a thing or two about reading even these robotic actions. There's a certain quietness to the beginning of his sentence like he’s debating if he should say it or not. 
“It’s fine,” you say, shortly. 
“Sorry about your rug,” he says. He tugs at the strap of his muzzle with one finger, rubbing at the skin underneath the leather. “I can get the stain out.”
You retrieve the needle and thread from the kit and don’t respond. You don’t even look at him.
After a moment’s hesitation, he continues. “It’s easy. You just need salt and—”
“Okay.”
He goes quiet.
You don’t mean to be so tetchy, but you don’t have the energy for anything more. Every little thing has you feeling on the edge of shattering. It’s too much. It’s all too much.
It’s when you’re kneeled at his side, staring into the gaping wound on his bicep and trying to thread the needle, fingers trembling from the chill of the tiled floor with nothing but a layer of thin cotton to keep you warm, that it happens. He shifts on the stool, a mere twitch in an attempt to get comfortable, but it brushes his bloody arm against yours. Flecks of fresh red on the light pink fabric. First your carpet, now your pajamas. Your favorite, special, extra soft matching cotton pajama set, a rare splurge after your promotion that stood out among old t-shirts and sweat shorts. Ruined. Again, he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Did I say something?” Hood asks. He waits for your response, but when none comes, he adds, “I’m sorry if I did.” He speaks so quietly you may not have been able to separate his words from the whirring filter of his mask, if not for the chilling silence of the bathroom floor. The insulating brick walls of your old apartment building are something you’re usually grateful for, but tonight you find yourself wishing for the city’s commotion to seep through the walls. Something, anything to buffer his proximity to you.
You hear his inhale as he prepares to say something else.
“Can you just let me work?” You snap before he has the chance to speak again. It’s loud, louder than you’d ever dream of speaking to him, and he flinches. Your eyes shut in apology, but only for a moment before you get back to it. He looks away. His feet point towards the door.
He wants to leave, you can tell, and you don’t blame him. You just messed everything up. But you started this, so now you have to finish it.
You sit in silence for the several minutes it takes for you to clean his wound and stop the bleeding.
He’s not looking at you, gaze transfixed ahead of him on a chip in the paint. At least, you assume. It’s difficult to guess what’s going on behind the milky white covering over his eyes. His subtle body language can be read if you pay close enough attention, you’ve learned, but that’s not something you care to do right now.
(Maybe you noticed in the back of your mind that he’s not exhibiting any body language since you snapped at him, but the compartment in your head for guilt is already overflowing, so maybe you didn’t notice it, you tell yourself.)
You stare at your sleeve, at the patches of blood blooming like ink blots. The red and pink hues blend together behind your blurring vision. You sniffle.
“Are you—” Hood starts. Because now he’s looking at you.
“Excuse me,” you say, pushing yourself off the ground and stumbling out of the room without so much as a glance back at him. You stagger into your room, needle and thread still in hand, and push the door closed. The lights are off, and the darkness is calming, quieting your buzzing thoughts. You close your eyes and lean against the door. Breathe in. Breathe out. You continue this exercise, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth to soothe your sympathetic nervous system, the same way a therapist instructed that one time you went. You wipe away the moisture that has collected in your eyes, roll out your stiff neck, dry your sweaty palms over your thighs. You toss the needle and thread aside, because they are definitely not sterile anymore, and take a few more breaths before opening the door and going back to the bathroom.
You avoid his face, following the lines of grimy grout between the tiles before resuming to your spot at his side. His inspecting eyes burn on the side of your face. You wipe down the forceps with a sterilizing wipe and rip open the plastic packaging for a new needle, holding it up to the wound, but your hand refuses to steady.
Another deep breath. Then another.
Hood sighs. It’s almost chastising. “I think I should go.”
“What?” You’re just surprised enough to be torn away from your thoughts and look him in the eye (mask) for the first time all night.
“You can’t do this,” he says, gruffly. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll let you figure it out.”
You scoff. “Yes, I can. I’m fine.”
Before he can argue, you grab him by the wrist to hold him in place just as he starts moving to get up. He winces, but you keep your grip tight on him. You can feel his scrutiny through the cold, expressionless barrier of his disguise, practically track his pupils as they search your face.
You both pretend he couldn’t break from your hold in an instant if he wanted to.
“You’re shaking,” Hood says. His voice is much softer now.
You follow the turn of his head to your hand where it hovers the needle right over his skin. You are shaking. Trembling, in fact.
“No, I’m not.” It comes out as an empty whisper.
You focus all your strength on steadying yourself, but the harder you try to stabilize, the harder you tremor. Your other hand releases his wrist to clamp over your dominant hand and force it to stay in place. It guides the needle closer to the skin, but now your vision is blurring. You blink rapidly, but it’s not enough. The tears start falling. You look away from him, but a warm hand settles over yours. You don’t dare look at him, unable to bear showing him your shameful face, wet and blushing and screwed up in misery. You turn your face into your sleeve. Clamp your eyes shut tight, thinking maybe if you keep them closed, this darkness will swallow you up and he won’t be here anymore.
But the warmth of his skin on yours is the first feeling of softness, of relief you’ve felt in months, and then it’s gone. Your shoulders are shaking, quaking with the effort to keep your sobs quiet.
One finger ever so gently hooks around your chin, pulling it back up to face him. You keep your eyes closed, not wanting to see him see you like this, but the tears are still streaming. He brushes them away. Whether that makes it better or worse, you can’t be sure, because you cry even harder, snatching your face away from his grasp to muffle your sobs into the back of your hand. You don’t realize he’s pushed himself off his stool to sit cross-legged on the floor until you feel his hand circling your arm and pulling you closer. The tools in your hand clatter on the floor as your palms come up to press against his chest, fighting against him with half-hearted protests murmured through your cries. But even with only one good arm he’s too strong for you, and you’re pulled into him.
He’s so gentle with you, rubbing your back and resting his chin atop your head while you cry and cry and cry into his shirt. Several minutes pass like this, with your face buried in his chest and his good arm holding you tightly against him while the other dangles lamely at his side, throbbing with an intensity he’s trying to ignore.
When your sobs die down, and you’re sure you’re all cried out, you linger against him. He smells like smoke and gasoline, and his shirt is soft and warm from his body heat seeping through. His hand continues to stroke up and down the length of your back, even after you’ve quieted. The edge of his mask digs into your scalp where his chin sits, but it feels worth it. Your hands, still pressed to his chest, slide higher, completely of their own volition, out of a newfound desire to wrap your arms around his neck. You don’t hear it, but you can feel his sharp draw of breath, his chest rising quickly under your touch. Your hands lose their nerve at his clavicle as you hold your breath for fear of the smallest movement drawing attention to your forwardness. You wait for him to rebuff you, to lean away from your touch, or grab your wrists and pry them off. He doesn’t.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. His chest finally falls.
Eyes opening, your thumb swipes over the edge of the red bat symbol just below his collarbone.
His movements pause, lightly gripping the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, before releasing it. “It’s alright,” he tells you.
You pull back from his chest to look at him, the way his cold and unfeeling expression stares back at you. You wonder from time to time what’s under the mask, but tonight the desire is overwhelming; you ache with the want to know what he looks like. The color of his eyes. What his mouth looks like when he winces over a deep cut or chuckles at one of your anecdotes. You wonder if his lips are soft or chapped. If he’d like it if you dragged your thumb across the bottom one.
The metallic odor spreading through the room brings you back to the present, and you hope the flush from your tears hides your cheeks’ growing heat when you realize where your mind had wandered. 
“Oh, fuck, your arm.” You speak in a watery voice, wiping at your face as the urgency returns to your senses. Though you try to move away, his firm hand on your back pulls you back in.
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” He says, resuming his caresses up and down your back. “I can take care of it.”
“Then why do you even need me?” You sniffle with a small smile.
He stays silent. But when you search his face, waiting for an answer, his hand moves to your side, palm sliding a fraction of an inch closer to your waist and fingers tensing, you can almost see through the mechanical muzzle to the way his lips shape the words. At least, he wishes you could.
You know why.
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this was lots of fun to write and thank u for your patience ik i said i was gonna "knock this out in a day" 2 weeks ago😬😬 also we're gonna pretend they aren't just letting his open wound marinate for half an hour when it should be getting stitched up bc it's fiction ok? everyone say thank you mostly-imagines for proofreading this😚
but anyway happy new year!! it's been barely 2 months but starting this account made my year so much better🫶🫶🫶and ty for 500 followers that's crazy🫣🫢
listen to the inspo song!!!
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luveline · 3 months ago
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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝
You try to break up with your boyfriend. Aaron just wants to know why. (And what he can do to fix it.) [4k]
c: fem, stripper!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff epilogue, suggestive themes mdni. requested here 
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
I don’t want to see you anymore. 
The text doesn’t compute at first. He reads it twice. Reads the sender’s name, his heart stopped clean in his chest. 
He puts down his pen.
The idea that the text wasn’t meant for him crosses his mind, but that might further break his heart. He knows you have clients, but you don’t contact them outside of the club. 
His second thought is that he’d been a client unknowingly, but he made it clear to you those few months ago that he liked you as you, not as a service provider, and not as something to be bought. You thought he was trying to acquire you as a private escort. He explained it as what it was truthfully, if vulnerably.
He’s being broken up with, he surmises. Over text. By a woman he adores, who he’d thought was happy. Aaron opens his phone to call you, clicking your contact, bringing it to his ear. You don’t answer. He calls again and he’s clearly declined three rings in. 
He puts his phone down and has a few minutes of unbreathable heartbreak. Just a few minutes, his hand to his stomach, trying to think of things as reasonably as he can. 
Aaron doesn’t care that you’re a stripper. He might’ve at first. Denied his attraction to you, because of course he had feelings for you when you were standing against the side of the club in your dancing lingerie, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Every fool lucky enough to see you undressed must assume the same thing. He thought it wouldn’t work, and that you’d never be interested in a man like him. 
Interviews for information lended themselves to rare moments of conversation. He liked how you talked, how your eyes moved to his, the way you watched his mouth. Your unusual friendship with Spencer drew you closer, and activated a rare seed of jealousy within him that helped him place you in his life. He had real, tangible feelings for you. 
And now it’s over. 
He scrunches his eyes closed and gets up from his desk. Puts his coat on, but leaves his things where they are on his desk. 
“Hotch?” Morgan asks as he descends the steps down from his office into the bullpen. 
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back.” 
“What happened?” 
Aaron turns to Morgan, hiding his panic as well as he’s able to. “I have a small emergency. It’s fine. Can you make sure things are okay here?” 
“Hotch?” Morgan asks again. 
Aaron keeps on going. He tries your number again on the way down. Three times, a fourth by the time he’s at the parking garage. 
The fifth time, you answer. 
He almost breaks the phone, its plastic body creaking in his hand. “Honey?” he asks. 
“I don’t want to see you anymore, Aaron. Is it hard to understand?” 
He’s taken aback. Some part of him had held onto the hope that it was a mistake. “Yes,” he says slowly, struggling to pull his keys out as his car comes into view, “it is.” 
“I don’t want to be with you.” 
“Have I upset you?” 
“Would that make it easier?” 
“No. I don’t think anything would make it any easier. Honey, this feels so sudden. Can’t we talk about it?” 
“I don’t want to see you.” 
“Please.” He can’t imagine never seeing you again. Just a few days ago he was sitting at the dinner table with you laughing opposite, your socked toes brushing his ankle. “Please, give me the chance to fix this.” 
“Aaron, it’s not really fixable. Please don’t call me again.”
“Y/N,” he says, firmer now. Anger leaks into his tone —what’s going on? “Let me come over. We need to talk about this.” 
“No–”
“It’s not fair to me for you to do it over the phone.” 
“…Okay. Fine. I’m at home, but I have work at six.” 
“I’m on my way.” 
He hangs up. Your terse allowance is all he needs to get in the car and drive, checking his watch. There’s plenty of time between now and six. He can figure out what’s wrong and hopefully change your mind.
He thinks about it more seriously as he’s parking outside of your place. Perhaps he doesn’t want to change your mind. You aren’t acting like you, none of your kindness can be found in such a swift dismissal, but he thinks of your foot under the table, your sock rubbing along his ankle without comment. 
He takes the stairs to your apartment. It’s not the nicest place to stay, but it’s far from a slum, either. He doesn’t worry about you when you’re home beyond the usual everyday fears: Is she eating? Sleeping? Having a good day? 
Now he’s thinking, What did I do? 
He gets to your apartment and pauses at the threshold. After a moment's deliberation, he knocks. 
“Come in, Aaron.” 
He pulls down the handle and lets himself in. You’ve mail piled on the sideboard and your shoes tucked under it, a coat rack further in bragging scarves and coats and jackets of all different colours. He’s always liked the interior of your apartment. It doesn’t feel as cold as his own, parts of your personality peeking in through everything, from the flowered tiles in the bathroom to the glass lampshade in the bedroom. 
You’re sitting in the kitchen with the light off. “Hey,” he says, voice already laden with relief he doesn’t mean to share. 
“Hi.” 
“Can I sit down?” 
You gesture for him to do as he likes. 
Aaron sits down at your table. It’s a small square just big enough to share dinner, plain wood edged in a darker slate grey outline. Sometimes when you’re feeling especially pretty, you’ll lean heavily on an elbow and grin at him, enticing him in for a kiss.
“What’s this all about?” he asks quietly. 
“I just think we’re… at the end of our relationship.” 
You don’t sound truthful. He knew there was something strange in your voice over the phone. 
“What’s making you feel that way?” 
“Does it matter?” 
Again, avoiding and evasive. 
He meets your gaze unflinchingly. “I care about you. I love you,” he says. “I know I can’t be who you pictured for yourself, and if you really can’t see a future for us, then… I’ll have seen it alone. I just wish I could understand this sudden change. Did I do something wrong?” 
“You’re not who I picture for myself,” you agree. 
“No?” he asks. 
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong, but I can’t see us together. We’re not the right fit.” 
You twist a ring around your middle finger. He thinks he’s starting to understand. “Do you think we’re not the right fit?” 
“Please don’t use your psychoanalysis on me.” 
“It’s not psychoanalysis, sweetheart, it’s– I know you.” He grimaces. “I’d like to think I do. And I’m allowing myself the audacity to believe you were happy with me just a few days ago. What happened between then and now to change your mind?” 
You stare at your two-toned table. Your mouth opens to talk, little but air making it out. Your shoulders begin tightening like you’ve been keyed between them, twisting and twisting. 
“What do you want me to say?” you ask. 
Dramatic, he’d hope you could say you don’t love him, or don’t care about him enough to let him convince you the rest of the way. “Is this really what you want?” he asks instead. 
Your staring turns to squinting. With a start, he watches a small tear drip from the corner of your eye to your nostril, to your cupid's bow. 
“No,” you say carefully, “it’s not what I want. I don’t like you being against me.” 
“Then what’s making you feel this way?” 
You cover your eyes with one hand. “I wanted to do this over the phone,” you say in a squeeze. 
He reaches for you but doesn’t touch. “I couldn’t let you.” 
“I just want you to be happy,” you say, so high he can barely understand you. “I’ll never be like you, Aaron. You’re so smart, and you’ve done so much. You’re a hero, and you must look so stupid with me. What do you think people say when they realise what I am?” 
“It doesn’t matter to me what they say. I know you, and they don’t.”
“What about what I think?” 
“What do you think?” 
You wipe your face roughly, eyes lit with an anger he’s unprepared for. “I told you, don’t psychoanalyse me. I don’t want to have to explain it, I just want to say what I have to say. I don’t want to be with you because you won’t be happy, and neither will I.” 
Aaron isn’t too prideful to recognise when he needs to fight for what he wants. He reaches over the table and takes your arm into his hand, picking it up, feeling down The length of it until he’s curled his hand over your smaller fingers. “We are happy,” he says softly, giving your hand a small shake. “I understand where you’re coming from. When we first met, I couldn’t have predicted that I’d be here with you now. I do wonder what people think when they ask me what you do and I tell them you’re a performer. I know we agreed to it, but there are moments where I feel like I’m being cruel to you. But just because there’s a stigma surrounding what you do, it doesn’t mean that you’re any lesser than me. You’re not less intelligent, or less accomplished. We chose different paths and I’m glad we did. If you weren’t a dancer I never would’ve met you.” 
“Do you know how it feels for me to come home to you sometimes?” you ask weakly. 
“I’d hope it feels as it does for me. Every time I see you, I’m relieved.” 
“Aaron, I get this rush of safety, like you’re– I’m finally safe. I can take care of myself, you know that, but now I have you it’s that I don’t even want to. And that’s stupid. I know that that’s stupid.” 
“What I’m thinking,” he says, soft, not as worried about being without you now as he is of the horrible way you’re feeling, “is that you’ve thought about all of this a lot. I’m glad you’ve taken time to reflect on us and your life, but I wish you’d thought more about what we both want.” 
“I want you to be happy,” you argue, as you had a few moments ago. 
“And I’m never happier than when we’re together.” He shrugs. “Love isn’t about work. Your job shapes you as mine shapes me, but you have to know that who you are is what’s important.” 
“I don’t know who I am…” 
“I know exactly who you are,” he says, rubbing a loving thumb over your knuckles. 
“I’m… I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you, on the phone. I knew if I talked to you like this I’d be too much of a coward to really see it through.” 
“I see. You’ve planned my heartbreak weeks in advance.” 
You shake your head sadly. “Aaron, we’re not good for each other. You make me this awful, weak version of me, and I’m no good.” 
“We have been nothing but happy since we met.” Aaron pulls your hand up and kisses the side of your wrist. He isn’t ashamed of you. He doesn’t make you weak, you aren’t. “I don’t know how to explain it. Sometimes it feels like we’re from different worlds, but it’s not that melodramatic. You’re my partner. I love you. It’s hard not to think about what others think of us, but I know exactly what I think of you, and I know what you think of me, too.” 
You share a look. 
“I’ve never heard you talk so much,” you say, your frown fading. “I’m sorry.” 
“You haven’t done anything wrong.” 
“When I thought I couldn’t get any more embarrassing,” you mumble. 
“You aren’t embarrassing. Please, put the thought out of your head.” 
“Thought out of my head,” you repeat, still mumbling as you flex your fingers, pushing them between his and intertwining your hands. You bring them linked to your forehead and take a heavy breath. 
“Do you really want to break up?” he asks softly. 
Your breath warms his arm. “No.” 
“You can have the things you want, you know? I imagine that there are people who laugh when I tell them about you, but you have to know that their opinions would never matter to me.” He pulls his hand from your head to encourage you to meet his eyes. “No one else matters but me and you. We don’t have to factor in other people. We can just be together.” 
“I’m not worth all the fuss,” you say under your breath. 
“What, this fuss? Honey, a few weeks ago you cried in my lap because I got you that cake from the bakery. And you know what? I didn’t want you to cry, but getting to rub your back?” He chances a smile. “That made my night.” 
“You like making girls cry.” 
“Yes,” he says, trying not to grin like a fool as you stand from your chair and put yourself in front of him. He is no saint. He pulls you onto his thighs and wraps an arm around the small of your back, your legs either side of him. “That’s my goal in life, sweetheart.” His voice falls to a whisper as you hang your head against him, tip of your nose to a rough cheek. “Making you cry…” 
Your arms creep to his neck. Resting on him, rather than hugging. He doesn’t mind, he’ll do the hard work. 
“I’m sorry,” you murmur. 
“It’s okay.” He turns your face with his to press his lips to your cheek. “It’s alright, honey, bumps in the road happen with everyone.” 
“All my fault.” 
“Maybe next time, if you feel so strongly about something, you can just extend me that little bit of faith and… know that I’m here for you. Even if it did mean we wouldn’t be together, it doesn’t have to be that you’re alone, making such a big decision. Valiant,” he adds, enjoying the warmth of you seeping into his shirt, his face, his neck where your wrist is laid against it. “You’re not a coward. But I wish you wouldn’t be this brave about breaking my heart.” 
“Stop making me feel guilty.” 
His laugh is a breath against your cheek. “No, it’s fine, isn’t it? Use me and abuse me.” 
“Shut up. Stop, what is this weird guilt tripping you’re doing?” You laugh at his absurdity. “I’d never abuse you.” 
“I know. Just step on me a bit.” 
“Stop, stop,” you mumble, your voice turning slowly from self-pitying to honey, all that love for him he knew you still had like threads of gold shooting through it, “I don’t wanna step on you, I never would…” 
“Just rough me up a little.” 
“Never.” You press your face to his neck. “Thank you for not letting me do it.” 
“I won’t let you go so easily.” His hand trails up your back, feeling the softness of you beneath your t-shirt. Fat, muscle, all of it familiar, and treasured by his touching. 
He squeezes you rather tightly, then, but you don’t complain, you just sigh. 
“It’s not that you’re not who I picture for myself, like I said before,” you confess, leaning all your weight against him, barely held up by your legs either side of him. “You weren’t, but I didn’t realise that I could have you. I didn’t really know men like you existed. I should’ve known I was looking in the wrong age bracket.” 
“That’s not very nice. In my line of work they call that a feedback sandwich, honey. Something cruel between nice things to distract me.” 
“Sorry. Just had to get it in.” 
He considers your teasing a return to normalcy, guiding your head away from his with a hand to the back of your neck. “If this was a ploy to make me leave work early, consider it successful.” 
“I know your attention usually falls to other places, Mr. Hotchner–” You burst into giggles as he pinches the back of your neck, but it’s only to pull you in for a kiss, smiling against your parted lips as your laughter fades away.
You scrunch his shirt in your hand and kiss him nicely. 
“Sorry,” you say. 
“Forgiven.” Even if he did almost go into cardiac arrest at his desk. “I like begging to stay. It builds character.” 
“How long will you be like this?” you ask, shaking your head slowly, your smile poorly hidden. 
You’d needed a reminder, is all. Aaron isn’t solely business and sternness, he’s an idiot, your idiot, who likes to tease you, and doesn’t care who knows that. When he’s working he’s one person, and when he’s with you, he’s another. Both have their qualities and faults, but only one version is the one he needs to be with you. 
“At my age it’s perfectly normal to have a young and beautiful wife,” he says. “You’ve seen some of the other Section’s worker’s wives.” 
“I’m not that young,” you say. 
“So you admit it?” 
You reward him with a tired sigh, cuddling into his collar. 
…I'll never be your beast of burden. So let's go home and draw the curtains…
Aaron’s humming from the bedroom. He knows every classic rock song to exist, every word to every Beatles song. When the chorus comes, he sings under his breath, but you can hear him regardless. “Am I rough enough, am I rich enough? I’m not too blind…” he fades off. 
The music hums under your feet. Record player open on the floor, his Some Girls vinyl on the plate. 
You press a hand down your side. 
To inspire less worry on your part, you and Aaron are trying to be more open about the other sides of your lives. His work feels alien to you, and you worry that yours is dirty to him, despite reassurance that a job is a job. You know that already, but you can’t make yourself believe that he’s as happy as he could be if you were, say, a checkout girl. 
You’d make a cute checkout girl, he’d said. 
This is cute, too. Babydoll lingerie with feather edgings, starkly white against your skin. You fluff out the ends and neaten the crotch of your panties. Nothing is on show that shouldn’t be, but it’s still lingerie. It’s meant to excite. 
“Honey,” he says, dulcet tone carrying to the bathroom, “are you stuck again?” 
You laugh. “I bet you hope so.” 
“That’s accusatory in nature.” 
“I’m coming.” You give it a last glance in the mirror and head into the bedroom. 
Aaron’s sat against your headboard, flowery pillowcases behind his head and back. He discards the little figurine he’d been playing with out of boredom and looks you up and down, corners of his lips curling. 
“Home only,” he says. 
“I knew you’d say that.” 
“You look stunning.” His eyes seem darker. All pupil. 
“I have to wear some of these at the club, Aaron, that’s why I bought them.” 
Something in your voice makes him smile. “You said I could veto the ones that are too beautiful.” 
“I said too slutty.” 
“Honey, they’re all revealing in their ways. And I don’t have a problem with it…” He takes a breath. “Much. But some of these are meant for…” 
“The man who loves me?”
“Exactly.” 
He’d said something similar about the light blue set with darker flowers, the black set that showed the curves of your chest, and especially about the pink one-piece with white ribbons. That one gave him pause. 
“Spin?” he asks. 
One day it might bother Aaron that you dance, but for now he’s gently approving. Just wants you to be happy. So you do a little spin without any attempt to be sexy and beam when he whistles. 
“Beautiful. Really, honey, that’s the nicest so far.” 
“I have a confession.” 
“Yeah?” 
“This one was for you.” 
He’d know if you were lying. “For me?” he says, in that tone bordering stern, as much of his professionalism as you’re used to hearing these days. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Don’t,” he says, seductions gone as he tips his head back into a pillow patterned with lavender and peony. “Unless you’re done trying those on, I don’t want to hear it.” 
“This is the last one.” 
“In that case.” He covers his face with a cushion. 
You look down. Your stomach is a little bloated from lunch, and you have a shaving rash on your left knee, but Aaron won’t mind. He never does. Without worry, you tread to the side of the bed and climb onto it, one leg over his lap. The last time you’d been sitting in his lap, you’d been teary-eyed and regretful. Fuck, what was I thinking? you ask yourself, slipping a hand under his rising shirt to feel his abdomen. It’ll never not be weird, the FBI man and his stripper girlfriend, but it doesn’t have to make sense to anyone but him and you. 
You ease the pillow down his face. 
“Are you blushing, Aaron?” you ask. 
“Not purposefully.” 
“You look a little… hot.” 
“That makes two of us.” 
It starts slowly. The heat of you atop him, the pillows moved out of the way. You didn’t expect him to stay unbothered as you paraded your new spoils, but his willpower is remarkable, and he only breaks when you let yourself settle on his lap. His big hand cups your face. 
“That’s funny.” You lift up enough to be in kissing range, but don’t kiss. You just wait for him to react, holding your weight off of his chest. 
He finds the small of your back and drags. Your gasp isn’t your own, a breathy, excited thing as he brings your face to his for a kiss. Your lips almost immediately part in anticipation of his eagerness, of his hand on the back of your neck, and the unflinching heat of his mouth as he turns his head. Your noses brush. He wades in deeper, his own breath already failing him as the bridges of your nose press hard. 
They aren’t rough kisses, but there’s something desperate there. He holds you to him until he can’t, ushering you onto your back, his weight bearing down sudden and steady. 
“I can’t believe I nearly lost you,” he utters, stroking your cheek, edging back in to kiss you before you can reply. 
You wrap an arm behind his back and hike your leg, soft thigh naked and waiting for his touch. You didn’t nearly lose me, you think. To be lost, you’d have to be something worth losing, and you’re not sure you are, but Aaron? 
“I don’t think you could,” you mumble, forcing him to kiss your cheek, your jaw, the line of your throat. He nips at your neck, a shudder racing through you. 
“I have no intent of letting it come that close again, sweetheart.” 
His hand dances up your side to the soft hill of your chest. 
You hold the hair from his face and let him kiss you. He’s here to stay, no matter how odd a pairing you might make. You love him. That’s all he cares about. 
“Want me to do that thing you like?” you offer softly, mildly playful. 
He laughs into your neck. “No,” he says, “I think tonight is about you, hm? You’re all dressed up. I think that deserves a reward.” 
You knew he’d like the white babydoll. 
˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗
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cherrybr4t · 5 months ago
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lawyer!wonwoo (+18, mdni)
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A/N: thank you to the anon who requested for lawyer wonwoo! i have anth lawyer!wonwoo sitting in my docs—it’s more of a series/a smut w plot (lol) so that may be out a lil later, in the mean time, i hope you enjoy this! 💋
WARNINGS: smut, bdsm (hands tied), slight spanking, neck grabbing, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of ‘fuck’, lots of nicknames from wonwoo (princess, good girl), public(?) sex, lowk a messy turn of povs here n thr..dom!wonwoo, sub(ish)fem!reader W/C: 2.1k
lawyer!wonwoo was a great mentor to you, always willing to go the extra mile to help you—guide you through the mechanics of the big law firm, saying he’s doing what he ought to.
lawyer!wonwoo who always looks so goddamn hot in that white shirt with black tie, glasses perched on that tall nose of his; if not, hooked onto his shirt— top buttons undone when he’s feeling tired. (honorary mention of him pulling his tie loose when he’s feeling particularly frustrated or fired up)
lawyer!wonwoo who admires how hardworking you are, noting your raw talent for this line of work. his first glance at you—he thought you were stunning. looked like his ideal type built up from scratch. but—everyone in the office knows how professional wonwoo is, being the top performing lawyer in the firm. he pushes those thoughts away, but seeing how good you are at your job, he can’t help but let the feeling of admiration for you take over him.
lawyer!wonwoo who stays up with you late in the office, working hard on cases. late nights develop into getting food in the wee hours together, indulging in personal conversations. and neither of you can deny the chemistry that was boiling in those shared moments.
lawyer!wonwoo who always keeps a respectable distance because you’re attached. but the minute you cry to him about leaving behind that cheater boyfriend of yours, he’s determined to swoop in and prove to you—you’re worthy of much better. in fact, you were worthy of the whole world in his eyes.
lawyer!wonwoo who—on one of those late nights, decides to take that leap of faith when he finds you leaning in closer to him.
like magnets, he feels a pull towards your lips and he can’t pull away. not even if there were a hundred opposite forces pulling him away. it’s like he was meant to find those lips.
he kisses with fervour, conveying those months of hidden desire towards you. grabbing hold of your face, he seeks dominance by playing with your tongue, exploring every inch of your mouth and biting on your bottom lip.
“come here,” he pulls you onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him, which in turn causes your skirt to ride up. he traces his hands softly up your leg, before losing control and roughly grabbing on the side of your thighs.
“so fuckin’ pretty, can’t believe i have you here on my lap right now, better than anything i’ve imagined.” wonwoo groans, before crashing his lips against yours once again. you pull away, catching your breath, “you-you’ve thought about this?”
“you have no idea, princess. now you’re here sitting so prettily for me— all for me to play with now right?” he strokes the back of his index finger down your warm and red cheek, before settling a finger in between your lips.
“suck.” he says with such command in his voice. together with that stare of his, you gush in your panties, immediately taking in his fingers, sucking and licking around it, showing him how well you play with that tongue of yours.
removing his glasses with his other hand, he tosses it on the table before running his hand over his luscious black locks, cracking his neck and groaning. “fuck, driving me crazy and here you are just sucking on my finger,” you moan around his finger, shuffling around his lap.
“are you as eager for me as i am for you princess?” he pops his finger out, before reaching underneath your top to tug on your nipples with his soaked fingers.
gasping, you arch your back and nodded ardently, “wonwoo—wanna feel you,”
“yeah? gonna let me do whatever i want with you? be my pretty little obedient princess?” he hums and probes, already knowing the answer to that.
“yes—yes wonwoo, i’m all yours to play with, wanna be your good girl,” you breathe out, anticipating and pooling in your panties at every word out of that man’s mouth. he’s sin incarnated—and you’re willing to be the world’s greatest sinner.
he unbuttons your top, soaking in the sight of you and your pretty tits, giving them a few slaps before leaving behind marks on your mounds, “fucking love these,” he grabs them and flushes his face between them, taking his time to give each one proper care— sucking and biting to his heart’s content.
you can’t control the moans slipping out of you, not like you wanted to anyways. it’s 2am, not a single soul left in this building, and you were going to let wonwoo know just how good he’s making you feel.
scooping you up in one go, he carries you onto the sofa perched against the huge glass window overlooking the city.
“on your knees for me baby, look towards the window,” you place your arms on the sofa’s channel back, knees settling on the sofa itself, while you faced the city lights.
“good girl, look—you can even see me through the reflection, it’s a dark night isn't it princess,” he chuckles lightly before pushing your skirt up, leaving him face to face with your soaked panties.
the strain it causes in his pants makes him curse under his breath, before undoing his perfect tie in a haste. he grabs your left arm, before you finally understood what he meant to do through the reflection.
“may i, princess?” he takes a moment to ask sweetly, before you lay your head onto the backrest, placing your hands behind for him.
“all yours,”
“my good girl, let me know if it hurts kay?” he ties your hand up in a hurry, before focusing on the main meal. pushing your panties to the side, he plays with your slit teasingly, dancing his fingers along your slit, occasionally brushing your clit.
“wonwoo…”
he pushes a finger in, stretching out the soft walls. he curls his fingers, before going in at an inhumane speed, and you cry out. your mouth waters at how good his fingers feel fucking you incessantly. before you know it, he fits two fingers inside, and you swear you could cum on the spot at how full just his fingers make you feel.
“nnrggh, so..so good wonwoo, so good,” your mind fogs, all you can think about is the stretch of his fingers, how you want nothing more than to come undone on his pretty fingers.
“mmm, bet you could come right now can’t you, princess? hmm, but i only want you to come when i say so,” he smacks across your left butt cheek, causing you to twitch and cry out.
“ohh. look at this, you liked that didn’t you. tightening around my fingers, you’re holding onto them for dear life, princess,” a dark chuckle escapes him as he gives another strike across.
“my princess is a little slut too, isn’t she. likes it when i go rough on her,” he groans at how your cunt reacts immediately to every word he spits out.
before you could snap around his fingers, he pulls out, and you let out yet another cry—this one sounding of pain and betrayal though.
“wh-why? i’ve been a good girl wonwoo..” your voice cracks and wonwoo’s heart ached so bad he almost wanted to give in and give that clit a little suck.
“i know, i know princess, just wanted to make you cum around me, you want that don’t you? to cum around my cock? make it yours hm?” he caresses your cheek that has his hand print after two smacks.
you perked your head up, “fuck, yes..yes let me cum around you please. need it badly.”
“whatever my princess wants, she gets,” pants discarded on the floor, boxers next to it as he covers his cock with your slick, more than enough for him to be fully lubricated.
he pushes in inch by inch, and once he’s fully in, he pulls you up with a tight grip on your neck, before laying an arm across your shoulders to hold you in place.
he kisses behind your ear, “look at you princess, so fucking gorgeous aren’t you, so full of me, such a good girl for me,”
you moan at how big he is, how full he stretches you, your cunt hugs him so fucking tight, never wanting him to leave.
“fuck me hard, wanna be so full of you—of your cum wonwoo,” you croak out, leaving him with no choice but to of course— do as you wish.
he starts thrusting hard and slow, eliciting a cry out from you every time his tip hits that little gummy spot. “there! fuck, just right theree,” you drag out, filled with ecstasy at how close you already are; considering the orgasm denial you’ve just experienced.
he quickens, eager to feel you cum around him—he needs it, needs to feel you flutter your walls around him to feel complete.
“fuck thats it, taking my cock like a fucking champ. making this cock yours huh princess?” he says between breaths and moans, reaching his hand back to a tight grip around your neck.
his other hand making way from your hips to your clit, drawing out tight and fast circles, eager to bring you to your high.
looking at your reflection through the glass, you feel your knot tighten at how wonwoo looks. swear making his hair stick to his forehead, that determined and lustful look with his jaw out. he’s making you feel highs you’ve never experienced before.
“fuck wonwoo, gonna cum, fuck fuck fuck,” you ask for his permission to cum in desperate ‘fuck’s and high pitched moans that turn into cries halfway.
“you can cum for me now princess, let me see you fall apart around my cock, yeah, just like that,” he gives a final pinch on your nipples, slowing down his thrusts as he continues to flick at your clit.
“so fucking pretty when you cum for me, wanna see you cum for me again princess,” he gives you no break as he continues to ram into you, his cock now fully creamed and even more slippery as he goes maniacally.
“fuck, want you to cum with me this time,” he bites down on your shoulder, fingers back to drawing figures on your swollen clit. you feel so sensitive, every touch every thrust makes you cry out—until you feel actual tears of pleasure running down your cheeks.
“fuuuuck, baby you’re gonna make me cum so fucking hard, i’m almost there,”
“can’t wait anymore wonwoo,” you cry out in your pretty voice, which makes his balls grow even tighter as he feels the blood rush to his tip, and he knows he’s about to spill over.
“cum with me princess, gonna fill you up so fucking full as you-as you fuck cum around me—” his sentence ends in a long dragged out groan as he shoots his load inside of you, filling you full as he promised as you convulsed around him.
he kisses your cheek as you both catch your breaths; before he slowly—and gently unties your wrist and removes his cock as he watches the amount of cum spill out of your hole.
“you did so well for me, princess. my good girl. took so much of my cum, basically made me yours,” he smiles smugly before laying you down on the couch, giving you a gentle peck on your lips.
“gonna order in some ramen from that 24-hour store, and some lemon soda that you like. gonna grab a blanket too, we can lay here for a while—eat up before we head back to mine princess?” he suggests while looking at you so lovingly you swear hearts are coming out of his eyes.
lawyer!wonwoo insists that you both take off from work tomorrow too. you need the rest, he would say. and you find yourself giggling and agreeing to whatever he says.
lawyer!wonwoo who now; not only is your mentor, but your boyfriend who adores you so much. he believes in you so much, and you both push each other to be the best at work, while being back to your cuddly selves in the comfort of your homes.
a true power couple indeed 👀 i hope yall liked this ahdkkdkd !!!!!! i hope to get the original piece of lawyer!wonwoo i wanted out soon 🫦 but for now!! leave a like/comment/rb if you liked this <3 MUAH XOXO
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backwardhatmatt · 5 months ago
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It started off slow. Matt’s chain dangled over you as he continued with deep, hard thrusts. It left you moaning every time his tip practically hit your cervix, and him whimpering as your gummy walls sucked him in. But he couldn’t keep up with that for long.
That slow, passionate sex was reserved for anniversaries, birthdays, or even mornings. Not for now. No. Matt was too impatient.
He started thrusting into you at a more rapid pace, and he loved watching the look of pleasure on your face. The way your eyebrows knitted together, and those breathless moans that left your plump lips.
You looked down to watch as his cock sunk into your pussy with every thrust. “Nope. Eyes up here.” Matt tuts, his fingers moving underneath your chin to tilt it up. “Just wanna —fuck watch your pretty face.”
You could barely hold eye contact. His hooded eyes looking into yours as that overwhelming knot in your stomach tightened.
“Baby, gonna cum..” is what you tried to yelp out. But it came out more as “Babe… mm.. g ..on … c.. cum….”
“Gonna what sweetheart?” Matt had that devilish smirk painted on his face, as he picked up the pace of his hips if that was even possible.
“Cumming!” you moaned out in a particularly high pitched voice, and Matt’s jaw fell slack.
“Yeah baby.. so good f’me… gonna let me fill you up? Hm?” He mutters out, his relentless pace not stopping or slowing down. The overstimulation causing you to claw into his biceps, nodding feverishly.
Matt’s hips still inside of you as his hot cum paints your walls a creamy white. He’s usually dominant, but he lets out a loud moan close to your ear.
He pulls out, leaving you feeling a little empty. But the way his cum drips out of your soaked hole starts to get him hard again…
He uses his finger to push it all back into you, causing more breathless, soft moans to leave your mouth.
“Did so good f’me… my sweetheart…”
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thebluester2020 · 8 months ago
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ok but reading your latest sdv headcanons has given me an idea. You wrote Sam being horns for farmer in a sundress and it's has unlocked in me the feminine urge to be railed in a sundress. I'd love to see your take on it with the sdv bachelors.
SDV Bachelors x Fucking Farmer In A Sundress Summary: Bachelors to you looking too pretty in a sundress. [Includes; Elliot, Sebastion and Lance (From SDV Expanded)] Warning(s): No established relationships (I'm in a mood for FWB relationships + unrequited love what can I say?), Elliot low-key sluts out the reader, Elliot and the reader are kinda tipsy in his part but the sex is consensual dw, Sebastion is kinda a needy hopeless romantic and jerks off to the thought of the farmer, Alex and the farmer have sex outdoors like true outdoorsy people do 💪. Side notes: I only included three bachelors because- lol I gotta put all my focus on this other SDV fic. It's a bit longer so I need more time on that.
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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Elliot
The man nearly keels over when he sees you in a sundress. It was when you first introduced yourself to him actually! After that though? He was hooked on you like a drug.
Not necessarily in a perv way but more so in an "I definitely have a crush on them" type of way.
But he more or less keeps it in his pants until he spots you again but this time? It was at the Stardrop Saloon and both you and him were tipsy after sharing a beer.
Tensions were flying and after you placed a hand on his thigh? Y'all were fucking in one of the more secluded rooms in the saloon because y'all didn't have a chance in hell of making it home.
♡ - "Oh Yoba...Fuck—" A choked up uncharacteristically needy whine escaped the lips of the writer as he fucked you on the wooden floors of the Stardrop Saloon.
Despite the tipsy haze his vision had however, no amount of beer could dampen your beauty and the fact that you were the most captivating person in this entire tavern. From the first day he met you to now, those were his thoughts but tonight? Oh, they increased tenfold when you waltzed through the doors, unaware of how you stole his very breath with your outfit.
A simple brown sundress that was mid-thigh length and only had thin spaghetti straps to keep your outfit up upon your shoulders. The deep v-neck of your dress barely leaving your dress to the imagination as small beads of sweet dripped down your skin and between the valley of your chest. Combined with the scent of your perfume, how you looked at him when you sat beside him and the light application of your make-up.
All of it served to make him absolutely dizzy.
To the point where the quickly growing tension between the two of you, fueled by your brief touches and your conversations growing more and more naughty.
There was no way that the two of you could wait to get home to either of your houses.
No, it needed to be handled now.
"Y-You must've wanted this to happen, my dear...didn't you?" He moaned in your ear as his chest was pressed against your back. His thrusts sloppy and rough as he hugged you so tightly you had a mind to think he was trying to bury himself into your skin. "Yoba your sooooooo pretty." He continued to pant into your ear like a dog in heat.
You responded with a breathy moan, your head turning briefly to slot your lips against Elliot's. Quickly, Elliot lightly bit at your lower lip, prompting a gasp from you that allowed his tongue to slip in. His tongue tasting every area inside your mouth before you two parted with a single string of spit still connecting the two of you.
When Elliot's eyes refocused on yours, however, his moans began to increase in volume as his thrusts started to pick up pace in lieu of his impending orgasm. He swore he was falling deeper and deeper into the pit of his crush that he had on you, to the point where he dared to say that he was falling in love with you.
"Y/N...Oh fuck..." Elliot continued to moan your name as he grew closer to his orgasm, his moans getting higher and higher as he struggled to hold onto his sense of self and not spill out the fact he had a bigger crush on you than this moment could portray.
But, you beat him to it. "Elliot...I-I love you, s-so m-much." You said.
Another choked-up grunt spilled from Eliot's lips at the confession before you felt your insides being flooded with a searing heat, his own orgasm pushing you over the edge as you shuddered at the force of your climax. Your vision temporarily went black before you slowly returned back to Earth. Your skin was sticky with sweat whilst your slick drenched the back of your thighs and Elliot's cock.
"So..." Elliot spoke, breaking the post-climax silence. "You love me, hm?"
Sebastion
I'm going to spoil myself a little and imagine he saw you in a sundress once and practically never again.
However, that didn't mean he didn't stop thinking about it.
After seeing you, he developed a crush on you that he was too shy to really do anything about (completely ignoring the way you visited his room constantly to deliver frozen tears to him).
So to satiate his lust for you?
Masturbate ofc, with you being front and center in his mind.
♡ - He's tried so hard to avoid doing this.
But, he feels like a little self-credit is due here. It wasn't like he wanted to be in this position right now! Where he was left alone in the middle of the day due to his family apparently wanting to go to a town event that didn't interest him in the slightest. And although he was currently lying in bed, trying to doze off, his mind wouldn't leave a particular thought of you.
It was around the time when you came to visit his mother for some supplies he believes. The smell of perfume that smelled like lavender and cherries brought him out of his room he admits, Sebastion never smelled anything like it and it was as intoxicating as wine...and like a dog expecting a treat, he followed it out of his room and up the short case of stairs before he peeked around the corner and saw you.
A simple black sundress with a skull plastered on the front where the top of your breasts threatened to spill out.
Suddenly, his mouth was dry and his cock was hard.
Now he was here, in his bed, and hornier than he'd ever been before, and you were the cause. But Sebastion couldn't bring himself to feel too bad afterward when he began to palm himself over his pants, sucking in a sharp breath in-between his teeth as the image of your started to appear in his mind like someone had cast a spell on him.
It was as if you were really there. The smell of your perfume from that day, the sundress, your soft skin and kind smile...everything. And when the vision of you started to trail kisses down his neck and down his front...lifting up the front of his hoodie and everything until you finally reached the place he wanted you to touch most when you wrapped your pretty pink-tinted lips around his leaky cock.
He could've sworn you were really there.
Looking up at him through your long lashes as if he were the most important person in the world, the only one in the world deserving of your time and attention. No matter how unrealistic it may have been, a shut-in like himself? Dating the prettiest person in the valley?
A laugh almost slipped from behind his hand as he covered his lips, his free hand desperately tugging at his dick to the vision of you. Soft pants escaped his lips as he honed in on the image of your head bobbing up and down on his cock, lewd sucking and slurping leaving your lips.
He was so close...sososososo close...until you stopped.
You moved to sit up, winking his way before you lifted up your dress a little and moved to straddle him, pulling your panties to the side before you slipped down onto him.
He nearly came in his pants at the thought of how your wet walls would feel around him. How soft and warm they would be as they hugged his dick so tightly that he feared the air inside his lungs would all but be choked out, his moans increasing in volume and growing increasingly needier and needier as he imagined your soft touches. Your nails raking down his sides and leaving delectable goosebumps in their wake as you moved your hips up and down.
"Y/N...Oh fuck...! Y-Y/N..." Sebastion moaned as you began to quicken your pace, the sound of his name from your lips getting him off more than he was prepared to admit to himself before...there was suddenly a knock at his door. The way the vision in his head slipped away so fast, it nearly made him want to cuss out the person who dared to knock as well as cry at the same time.
Until he heard a familiar "Sebastion? Are you awake? I have a gift for you!" Immediately, his cock twitched at your voice, his brain's imaginations started to conjure back up again as the slightest feeling of...hope, perhaps started to dot his mind.
It seemed he had a bigger crush on you than he thought.
And he prayed that one day, his imagination would come true that you liked him just as much.
Alex
He's bold when he sees you in a sundress. He first sees you in one when he's visiting your farm (Evelyn wanted him to deliver some home-baked cookies to the farmer, how sweet of her)
So check this out, you're doing your farming work and you drop something.
You thinking that no one's around, you get on your hands and knees to fully pick the item up and this steals Alex's breath to the max because he gets a perfect view of your underwear.
A lacy blue thong that, in his mind, couldn't even be considered underwear!
Right then and there, he wants to fuck you.
Luckily, you've been wanting to fuck him as well!
♡ - An unabashed moan left your lips as your hands slightly slipped on the dirt beneath you, the sounds of grunting and slapping from behind you nearly drowning out the sounds of the cicadas from the summer heat.
You'd been attracted to Alex for a while, a simple and sweet-hearted crush that stemmed from the fact that he more or less made his attraction clear to you.
From the way he'd call out your name and invite you to hang out with him, to how he'd initiate close contact with you whenever the both of you were around each other to even now! Even as he pistoned into your needy pussy, your slick dripping down onto the dirt below as he pressed his hand down into the dip in your back to force you into an arch, your heart still got a fuzzy feeling out of your crush for him!
Though...you suspected that, at this moment, calling your attraction a mere "crush" wasn't exactly correct.
"F-Fuck—" Your breath caught in your throat when Alex leaned some of his weight down onto your back, his fingers moving to circle and pinch at your clit.
"Ssshhiiittt." He moaned hotly into your ear, a cocky chuckle following suit choked up aht-aht-ahts left your lips as he sped up his thrusts, a boiling coil beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. "You must've really wanted this to happen, huh farmer? Do you even hear yourself?" Alex said, your cheeks burning even more as Alex suddenly slowed his thrusts to grind his hips into you, the sound of your sticky slick sticking to the front of Alex's thighs making you both want to burst into flames out of sheer embarrassment as well as dig a hole to hide away in.
Of course, however, your newfound lover wasn't going to allow that to happen. Not after he'd been waiting for an opportunity like this to happen since the moment the two of you had met! The sound of your moans slipping from your pretty lips, wet and glistening from your heavy make-out session minutes earlier, the way your breasts bounced underneath you, flushed as pink as your face whilst your hard nipples were practically begging to be played with!
The sheer orgasmic rush that Alex felt...figuring out that the pretty farmer was a whore just waiting to be broken in by the right man. His cock twitched inside of your cunt at the mere thought, his thrusts resuming their original speed as more thoughts of you flashed through his mind.
Maybe a different position, on the bed perhaps? Your fingers dipping into your pussy as you moaned out his name and begged for him to take you against the wall?
Or even him fucking you on a table? In his room?
"A-Alex...~!" You cried out as your pussy began to twitch, a familiar burn beginning to tighten within the pit of your stomach.
"Dirty farmer, don't you dare cum without me." Alex hissed into your ear, a moan escaping his lips afterward. "Y-You need to have some energy to go a few more rounds...I-I'm breaking this pussy in."
At the thought and the act of Alex dragging your further on his cock, his cock pressed up against a spot deep inside of you that made stars appear in your vision. Your body convulsed from the sheer force of your orgasm as your thighs twitched whilst the energy drained from your arms. You would've plopped onto the ground had Alex not held up for your torso, his heavy panting and the warm full feeling inside of you a sign of his orgasm.
"You came a little earlier than me..." He clicked his tongue in false annoyance.
"Guess we have to go again, huh? Let's hope no one comes along farmer girl~"
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gumified · 9 months ago
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SHAWTY SO KAWAII !
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pairing: nanami x reader, toji x reader, satoru x reader, suguru x reader, choso x reader (all separate)
summary: what they love about you, so much so it's an obsession.
content: 3.4k, smut, dirty talk, praise, degradation, oral (fem. + male. receiving), overstimulation, public sex (nanami), tit worship, impact play, dacryphilia, dumbification
note: please enjoy this as i work on the next fic for you guys c: MWAH big forehead kiss for all of you who've been supporting!!! header is from manga called i can't escape from okami-kun's obsessive love!
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KENTO NANAMI - YOUR VOICE
“louder for me darling.” nanami groans into your ear and you moan in response, voice oozing with pleasure. he buries his head into the crook of your neck and you gasp when you feel his hot breath against your skin. “let me hear those pretty noises.”
if there’s one thing that your boyfriend loves it was you, more specifically, your voice in bed. it’s so addicting and every whimper, moan, gasp has him trying to hold back from fucking you stupid. you’re intoxicating and it drives him mad when you moan his name, pleading for him to let you cum. even in the most public places he’ll always urge you to make as much noise as you could, scream his name over and over again.
like right now.
“k-kento-” your words are cut short when you feel his cock thrust into you again. your back’s against the wall and your legs are wrapped around nanami’s waist as you cling onto him, trying your best not to slip out of his grip. “someone’s gonna s-see ahh!”
you try to stifle the mewls that escape your lips but it proves no use as you feel your pussy constrict around his length. his hands grip your waist and he’s strong enough to hold you in place as he rams into your sopping cunt. each thrust it loud and wet and you feel tears fall from your eyes. it feels too good and all you can do is moan louder and louder.
“you’re so gorgeous.” nanami murmurs against your lips and he kisses you once. his tongue tangles with yours and you let your eyes flutter shut, savouring the way your boyfriend worships your body. “need to always fill this needy pussy with my cock.”
“hnngh ken -  ‘s too good, feels s’good, need more pleaseee.” your incoherent babbling only pushes him to fuck you harder, snapping his hips to yours as he ploughs into your pussy. your arms are wrapped around his neck, trying to hold yourself up as you feel him plunge into you repeatedly. “nnghh, hah, f-fuckkk.”
nanami’s obsessed. his only goal is to hear those pretty noises spill from your lips as you cry for him. he loves the way you say his name, the way you plead for your release. he loves all of you and he wants to keep the erotic moans you make all to himself. his hands reach up to palm your tits, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. you yelp in surprise before it melts into a pleasured whine as you feel him play with your breasts. 
nanami knows your body like the back of his hand and he knows every spot that will make you whimper and cry his name like a prayer. he loves to hear you as you fall apart on his cock, chanting his name as you let everyone know just who exactly is making you moan like a bitch in heat. you know there’s no escaping his obsession and when he hits that spot in your pussy it has you sobbing out his name over and over again. 
“kento kento kento hnngh o-oh my god!”
“that’s it pretty girl, keep saying my name.” he moans into your ear and it only makes those lustful sparks shoot all through your body. his voice is deep and you want to hear him praise you even more, you want to bask in his honeyed words as you release all over his cock. “make sure that everyone knows who’s making you feel this good.”
his cock bulges in your pussy and you feel your walls tighten around his huge length. nanami’s hand grabs your chin and his grip is almost bruising. his lips crash onto yours and he swallows every single one of your pretty moans. you feel his cock throb and you grind your hips against his. the two of you kiss feverishly, lips mashing together with no exact rhythm but it’s still as passionate as ever. he’s so obsessed but he really can’t help it.
TOJI FUSHIGURO - YOUR MOUTH
it’s hard to breathe when toji’s cock is thrusting in and out of your throat. he’s stood towering over you as you kneel before him, cock in your mouth as you try your best to suck him off. key word try. toji had given up letting you seduce him with tiny kitten licks and the slow teasing. instead he had taken matters into his own hands and plunged his fat cock into your mouth so that you choked on all of him. 
“such a fuckin’ brat hm?” he growls as he fists your hair, pulling your head back so you look at him with those pleading eyes. “think y’er funny pulling all that teasing crap? keep that mouth open nice and big f’me yeah?”
all you can do is moan in response and even then your voice is choked and strangled by the sheer amount of inches that’s down your throat. your eyes roll to the back of your head as your hands hold onto his thighs. his cock is buried right into your mouth and toji’s unrelenting in his thrusts. he doesn’t slow down and he opts for a harsher pace as he wrecks your tiny mouth. your jaw aches but it’s no use complaining, not when he’s gripping onto your hair and forcing his cock down your throat.
“c’mon baby, i know you can do so much better than that. show me just how much you love this cock.” toji’s words are mocking because he knows you’re too fucked out to even think coherently but he loves it. he loves to see that beautiful drowsy expression you wear as you try your hardest to please him. your mind is foggy and filled with lust as you slobber all over his dick. there’s a wicked grin that spreads across his face as he watches your saliva dribble down your chin as you struggle to breathe.
“tell me how much you love my cock.” toji presses your head further down and you choke on his length. “such a filthy thing, c’mon let me know how much you love this.”
all you’re able to do is let out a mixture of muffled moans and undecipherable words that only widens the sickening smile on his face. tears are streaming down your cheeks and you feel the back of your throat burn from the repeated taunting he puts you through. you're so full and you feel as though your jaw would break at any second now.
“now now, ‘s not polite to speak with y’er mouth full baby.” toji leans down to take your face into his grip and you gaze up to him, eyes cloudy. “tch, gonna have to teach you some manners.”
it’s as if you’ve got no control over your own body. toji’s managed to transform you into his personal toy, using your holes whenever he wants to. all you’re doing is kneeling for him as you open your mouth wide enough so he can bully his fat cock in and out. you moan as you feel him throb inside of you. you want nothing more than for him to spray his sticky cum down your throat. it’s a messy sight but oh it’s so lewd. toji loves it so much. he loves seeing you like this. he watches as you whine around his cock, tongue swirling around his length as you try desperately to please him and he can only smirk at your cuteness. you’re all his and his alone.
he’s thrusting into your mouth once again, jamming his cock down your throat and it isn’t long until he's groaning from above you, pressing your head all the way down to the base of his cock as he releases inside your mouth. his cum spreads across your tongue and you feel the taste seep into your senses. it’s silly to say but you’re addicted to the way toji tastes and you’re greedily lapping up everything he gives you, swallowing his thick load as he pumps you full of it. 
toji smirks at your dazed expression when he finally pulls out of your mouth, cum and saliva dripping from your lips. he’d never get tired of that look.
SATORU GOJO - YOUR TITS
satoru gojo loves nothing more than to bury himself headfirst into your tits. he loves to play with your sensitive nipples, twiddling them between his fingers as he watches you mewl out in pleasure. he loves the cute way your expression twists into one of surprise every time he latches onto them, sucking them repeatedly, flicking his tongue as he kneads the other with his free hand. you’re so beautiful and satoru loves nothing more than to worship your body like a shrine.
“pretty.” he sighs against your chest as his body hovers over yours. you smile softly up at your boyfriend who’s eyes are fixed onto your breasts. you giggle at the way he seems so enraptured at your naked body. it would’ve been cute if not for the tinge of lust you see in his eyes. “this is all mine isn’t it?”
you nod your head. “all yours ‘toru, only ever will be yours.”
your answer lights something in him and you see the giddy smile that spreads across his face and he buries his head into your chest. you feel his breath on your skin and  before you know it his mouth is spreading hot kisses across the expanse of your body. he kisses every bit of you tenderly and softly, making sure to pay special attention to the tips of your tits. you can’t hold back the moan that spills from your lips as you feel him cup your flesh, squeezing it gently.
“ffuckk baby ‘m sensitive.” you whimper as you feel him tug at your nipple. satoru hums and you know he’s too caught up in what he’s doing to even register what you’re saying to him. he’s  obsessed with you and it only fills you up with joy. “baby, ‘toru, we just showered- nghh!”
satoru doesn’t seem to care as his hands trail down your body to cup your dripping pussy and you watch as he grins. his fingers slide into your wet cunt and you moan, gripping his shoulders for support. his mouth never once leaves your tits as he continues to worship you. you feel his tongue on you as he sucks on your skin, leaving blooming red marks in his wake. your legs are wide open for him as he thrusts his fingers into your pussy. you pant at the overstimulating feeling. 
“you’re so pretty baby.” satoru murmurs as he continues to pleasure you, tongue licking a long stirp up to your neck. you shiver as the cold air hits your body. his praises fill your ears and you simper at his sweetness. “this pretty little body was just made f’me.”
the words he whispers are cute yet his actions are anything but. his fingers are rough and unsteady as they curl inside you. he’s adding another finger into your cunt and you feel the stretch as he plunges his digits into you. it’s nothing new yet every single time he does it it has you keening over with pleasure. satoru’s long fingers reach parts of your body that you never could and when he curls his fingers repeatedly you jolt at the sudden movement, moaning loudly at how good it feels. his teeth grazes your nipple and you whimper when he lightly nibbles. 
“wanna keep you with me forever, wanna have you with me no matter what.” he moans as he grabs a fistful of your chest, squeezing it hard so it causes you to yelp. he melts into your hold and you let your fingers thread through his white locks, admiring as he pays special attention to the things he loves the most. 
“i’m gonna be yours forever baby-” you moan as he releases your nipple with a pop before focusing on the other one. “i’m only gonna be, hah, yours satoru.”
it’s euphoric and satoru smiles as he looks up at you through his eyelashes. he loves you so much, so so much. but more importantly, he loves your tits so much and he wants nothing more than to live between both of them forever.
SUGURU GETO - YOUR ASS
“look at that ass.” suguru snarls as he pounds into you. you’re on all fours, gasping for air as you feel his cock bully into your poor pussy. “you think you can go around showing everybody that? this is mine silly girl, all mine got that?”
“y-yes suguru, yes yes yes, nghh, i-i understand.” it’s stupid just how pathetic you sound as you’re being fucked open. suguru leans forward and you feel him grab your hair, tugging you up so his chest is pressed to your back. you feel the hard muscle and you whimper. 
“who said you’re allowed to give everyone a look at what’s mine hm? this is my property and no one’s allowed to see it.” he delivers a harsh smack to your ass and you shriek at the contact. suguru smirks at your reaction and another slap is delivered. you feel the tears prick your eyes and it only fuels him further. “awww you crying? pathetic whore, shouldn’t have been such a slut then.”
you continue to cry as you feel him deliver harsh spanks across your flesh. the pain spreads across your body and before you have time to comprehend what’s happening another is given and another and another. suguru’s mean and he’s unforgiving and it’s clear by the way he’s wrecking your ass that he’s angry. you know you won’t be able to sit down comfortably tomorrow and that he’s currently marking your ass with his large handprints. suguru’s cock is still buried deep inside you and you squeeze him tightly at the lack of movement. wrong move.
“i felt that idiot.” his voice is threatening and you whimper at the darkness that’s laced in his voice. “so fuckin’ impatient, can’t even wait for a bit can you? just needa be fucked? god i knew you were just a cock-hungry slut.”
“i-i’m sorry suguru, ‘m so sorry, please please please, ‘m sorry so hnngh s-sorry pleasee-” you hiccup through sobs as you feel him thrust into you again. this time it’s much more rough as he fucks your spasming pussy. you cry as you feel yourself getting stretched beyond belief. “suguru p-please, ‘m sorry didn’t mean it, i-i swear i didn’t mean i-it.”
“you think some sad excuse of an apology is gonna make me forgive you princess?” surugu laughs and you feel your heart drop. surely he doesn’t. he grips onto your hips as he fucks you relentlessly, watching as you get split apart on his huge cock. he leans forward to whisper the words you know are gonna keep you up all night. “you’re gonna have to try much harder than that.”
the sensation is all too much and you feel your pussy convulse around him. a pretty white ring is around his cock and he lewd noises that fill the bedroom make you spin into a frenzied daze. you think it’s been hours since he first started to start teasing you and you can’t take it anymore. you’re so so close but you know that you can’t cum. you know that if you did suguru wouldn’t ever let you go and he would keep you speared on his cock until he’s satisfied, until you’re not even conscious. you know that but you still can’t help it as he stimulates all the places that feel so good. before you know it it’s too late and you’re squeezing around him as you feel your body collapse and you fall onto the sheets, exhausted. you’re so caught up in your orgasm that you don’t even notice suguru behind you, completely still. 
“what the fuck did you just do?”
fear shoots through your body and you feel him grab you off the bed. he twists you to face him and you whimper at the dark look in his eyes. he’s glaring at you, anger flaring all throughout his face and you know it’s not meant to be but god he’s so hot. one of his hands is on your ass and you feel a moan bubble to your lips as he squeezes it hard. suguru’s eyes narrow and he throws you back down onto the bed. 
“you better get to work otherwise i’m never stopping.”
CHOSO KAMO - YOUR PUSSY
no one loves eating pussy more than choso kamo. he’s pressing hot wet kisses on your thighs as he makes his way to your cunt. they’re soft yet full of lust as he moans every so often. you throw your head back as you feel him finally reach the point you’ve been waiting for. your fingers are gripping onto his long black locks as you moan for more. he’s downright insatiable and choso’s too lost in providing you with the most mind-numbing orgasm that he can’t think of anything else.
his tongue laps at your sopping pussy. he sucks on your clit and he watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head and as you press your hips closer to his face. he smirks at your reaction, sucking harder. both of his hands are holding your legs apart, wide enough for him to completely devour you. choso plunges his tongue into your adorable little pussyhole and you scream his name. he hasn’t even been down there for long but he already has you screaming his name repeatedly.
“choso o-oh my god choso choso choso!” you gasp as he stimulates every little bit of your pussy. he’s meticulous and he just loves to drink up every drop of your arousal. “p-please don’t stop nghhh-”
you’re writhing in his grip, hips bucking up pathetically as you whimper. choso presses you down, hand on your stomach. the both of you lock eyes and you see the foggy look he has on. “you gotta keep still, can’t make you feel good if you keep moving around. can you do that for me?”
you can’t resist him if he looks at you with such adorable eyes and you mumble out a strangled okay. you almost break your agreement once he dives back down to your pussy. he’s addicted to the way you taste and he greedily eats you out, not caring for being messy. you squeal everytime he lightly nips at your clit and you can feel choso grinning at your cute reaction. it’s embarrassing how exposed you are for him but you can’t even close your legs as he keeps you spread wide open for him. 
“i love this pussy s’much.” he groans as he sucks harshly. his breath is cold against the heat you’re exuding and you moan at the contrast. your body feels as though it’s on fire and every lick that choso provides you with has you burning brighter. “could live off this pretty thing, don’t need anything else. love eating your pussy out s’much baby, wanna eat you out all the time.”
his words are dirty and you know they hold the truth. if choso could he would most definitely live off just eating your pussy. he loves it so much and he would be happy if he died in between your legs. you tug at his hair as you feel yourself come close to your orgasm. choso continues his rough movements, increasing his pace so it has you unable to keep still any longer. he doesn’t mind though, he holds you close, determined to keep pleasuring you until you’re a writhing mess beneath him. 
“choso ‘m g-gonna cum!” you feel your legs shake and your whole body seize up. “c-choso ‘m so close, a-ahhh, ‘m gonna cum choso, feels s’good!”
choso sucks harder and his tongue swirls around your clit and you gasp when you feel him stick two fingers into your pussy. he continues to suck as he plunges his fingers in and out, drawing your orgasm out as he watches as your body spasms as you gush around his digits. choso groans at the mess you make and he’s immediately lapping it all up, drinking everything up greedily.
“that was so hot.” he looks up at you and you see the way his lips glisten and his chin is covered with your slick. choso’s so dazed and you watch the way his eyes are staring into yours with clouded lust. he presses a chaste kiss to your lips before going back down to your cunt and you don’t even have time to stop him. “give me another, please, need you so bad baby you don’t even know.”
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chuutu · 9 days ago
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Million Dollar Man
old man!logan x young fem!reader
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18+ NSFW
cw : age gap, pre-established relationship, pet names, needy!logan, soft dom!logan, marking, hair pulling, size kink, grinding, logan has heightened senses, sent kink, panty stealing, slight predator/prey dynamics, teasing, cunnilingus, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, cum eating/exchanging, spit kink, slight sub!logan undertones, body worship, unprotected sex, mating press, belly bulge, logan fucks you stupid, cream pie, slight ddlg (not sorry lol), daddy kink, breeding kink, aftercare ofc
wc : 2.6K
a/n : ngl I started writing this thinking of these two videos i saw (p!links under fic) because he looks exactly like Logan, but i accidentally got carried away and wrote my own thing lolz. hope you guys enjoy my first fic anyways <3 🍮
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“Lo, give me a sec-c,” you try to mutter out as he holds your face in his hand, squishing your face as his hands ravish your body. “C'mon, my pretty girl,” he mutters hungrily against your stomach, kneading your plush skin.
He’ll never get over this, your soft skin against his rough, calloused hands. He considers himself extremely lucky to have a beautiful young woman like you by his side.
“Need you,” he whispers against your skin as he kisses down your stomach, pinching your skin with his teeth and sucking the skin right after leaving pretty purple bruises all over your stomach. “L-lo,” you grab his silver hair in your hands, tugging at the roots, which makes Logan groan.
Though you don’t know it, those precious little hands of yours have always driven Logan insane. Logan knew that you two had an obvious age gap, and with that came a size difference, but he'll never get used to seeing your dainty body intertwined with his.
"Mhm, beautiful." "Only mine." You hear Logan mumbling to himself as he grips onto your shorts like a starved man. You've always noticed that once Logan gets into the mood, it's hard to pry him off of you in a way you'd say it's almost like he craves you.
"Need to get rid of these useless things," Logan says as he starts to unbutton your shorts and slides them off, throwing them on the ground. "Now we're talkin'," Logan says as he's now looking down at your pretty pink panties.
"Ya like?" you say, giggling, doe eyes staring right back at Logan. You notice his expression has changed; his eyes darken, engulfed in pure lust. "You alright there, Lo?" you say as he's peering down on you; it almost makes you feel little.
Logan's mind is running a mile a minute; he can feel the strain in his jeans from his pulsating cock now hardening. Just the sight of you alone does something to him that he thought he'd never feel again at his age.
You made him feel needed, and that alone excited him. "You just know how to rile me up, don't you, princess?" He says with a low growl, his head now near your neck.
"Mmm L-lo," you let out a quiet moan as he starts sucking and nibbling on your neck, leaving noticeable dark purple bruises to let others know that you are taken care of already.
"Always so pretty for me," he mumbles as his kisses start trailing down to your collarbones, giving them a lick that makes your body shudder. "Hurry," you say, voice needy, now grinding your hips up towards his bulge to feel some sort of friction.
"Atta girl, keep goin' for me," Logan says in a gruff voice, continuing to pamper you with little pecks as you continue grinding on the rough fabric of his jeans to give you some sort of stimulation.
Logan thinks If he could, he would spend the rest of his life worshiping your body. To him, you are perfect in every way, and he wouldn't change a thing.
Continuing to pamper you in kisses once again, he trails down to your stomach, inching closer to his favorite pink panties. "Mmm, fuuck you smell sweet," Logan groans out as he inhales the scent of your arousal, which leaves a noticeable darkened damp spot on your panties.
"Already so nice and wet for me, princess," Logan says as his tongue lays flat against the wet spot, licking a stripe up to the little white bow on your panties. "I'll be taking these now." Logan's fingers hook onto your panties, pulling them off and pocketing them for later use.
"Jerk," you kick Logan's chest, giggling. Logan looked down at you like you were his prey, ready to devour you up in a split. The corners of Logan's lips quirk up as he lowers himself back down, facing your bare, sloppy, dripping cunt. She's so pretty for him, begging to be fucked. Logan grips your thighs tight, making sure to hold you in place to keep you from moving away from him.
Logan is in awe of your cunt, so beautiful and needy, always ready to take him because that's what she was taught to do—to take his cock.
Logan's pointy nose is now right against your clit as his tongue slips through your folds, licking and sucking, devouring your cunt like an animal. He is hopelessly addicted to your taste of your arousal, lapping up every inch of your cunt.
"L-lo," you pant, grabbing his scruffy grey hair and pushing his head down, grinding your pussy towards his face. Logan's nose is now rubbing right against your clit as you continue gripping into his hair. "S'good," you moan, now feeling a tight knot in your stomach.
Your hips start to falter now, trembling, and Logan knows you're about to cum. Logan raises his head up for a split second, "Cum for your old man, princess," lowering his head back down to your cunt. Sloppily lapping at your pussy like a needy pup, hungrily moaning into your cunt, which stimulates you even more.
You feel yourself tipping over the edge, legs shaking, eyes watering—the feeling of pure bliss taking over. "M'c-cumming," you cry out shakily as Logan continued to lap at your messy cunt, wanting to see if he could push you even further.
Lapping quicker and quicker, his nose still rubbing on your now swollen, puffy clit, he then takes one of his fingers and slips one inside your dripping cunt. "L-Lo!" you yelp; your thighs were now squishing Logan's face now that you were freed from his grasp.
"Come on, pretty girl, let it all out," Logan says as he resurfaces for some air, feeling a bit lightheaded from stuffing his face in your cunt, but he wouldn't have it any other way, going back down so that he can immerse himself in your arousal.
"Mmm, s'too much-h!" Your voice trembles out a choked moan as your thighs shake violently, losing grip on Logan's head. You feel something snap in you, feeling a gushing sensation releasing all over Logan's tongue. Your mouth agape, drool trickling down your chin, eyes shut tight, feeling dazed in your pleasure, you swear you could almost see stars.
"Mhm," Logan moans into your cunt as he hungrily laps up your spilled juices. His eyes roll back, tasting your arousal on his tongue; he's in pure bliss, cleaning you up with his tongue. After licking you clean, Logan takes his thick, calloused fingers out of your cunt and perches himself over you.
"S'a good girl," Logan says with a smirk, his salt-and-pepper beard drenched in your sweet arousal along with his nose and thick, calloused finger still slicked in your juices. Logan then pops his finger into his mouth, looking straight at you, sucking his finger clean. He lets out a faint moan, "Mm," "So sweet," he says with a devilish smile.
Above you, Logan admires your fucked-out expression, still coming down from your high, chest heaving and face covered in drool. Logan lowers his face to yours, softly caressing your cheek and leaving pecks on your face and licking at the drool that covered your chin.
Noticing you coming to Logan kisses you, your arousal still on his tongue; he wants you to taste yourself. The same sweet taste that Logan was addicted to, his sensitive senses making it easy for him to smell the scent of your arousal.
You always found it quite interesting how sensitive Logan's senses are, and you always took advantage of it. As Logan's tongue was prodding around your mouth, spit exchanging, his nose pressed right against your warm rosy cheeks, you lift a hand towards his ear, caressing it in your soft hands.
Logan lets out a guttural groan against your mouth, continuing to ravish the inside of your mouth, savoring every last bit of you.
He forces himself to pull away from you to let you catch your breath, but you had other plans in mind. Raising your head to his ear, you leave pecks down from the tip of his ear and playfully bite his earlobe. "Easy there, doll," Logan says in a low growl, sending shivers down your spine.
You then lick his ear, "Watcha gonna do about it, Lo?" You say playfully, in hopes of pushing him over the edge, and it definitely works. Logan's now rubbing his pre-cum-stained jeans against you to feel some sort of friction against his hard, pulsating cock.
Seeing Logan lost in pleasure was something you adored because it was the only time you've been able to see Logan relax and let himself be immersed in bliss without shame. You continue to leave kitten licks on the cusp of his ear, and his hips finally find a steady motion against yours.
"Mm, fuuck princess, you make your old man feel so good," Logan says in a low, gruff voice as his face is now in the nook of your neck. Low growls can be heard falling from his lips, letting himself go and immersing himself in you.
It doesn't take long before Logan feels himself about to release; he feels a buildup in his lower abdomen. A feeling he can only describe as warm and fuzzy, this feeling makes him feel almost lightheaded as his muscles start to contract, and he eventually releases in his jeans.
After Logan comes down from his high, he lifts up his head from your shoulder. His face heats up, feeling embarrassed, but you've always adored the look of pure pleasure on his face. You then raise your hand towards his face and cup his chin. "My handsome man, always so needy for me," you say in a teasing manner, looking into his eyes.
"How can I not be? Have you seen yourself, doll?" Logan chuckles to himself. He always finds himself getting lost in your presence; it's like momentarily he gets the chance to indulge and forget about all his problems.
Pulling his face towards yours, you give him a peck on the lips, and Logan deepens the kiss. "Hold on," you mumble, taking this as a chance to finally get rid of all the extra fabric that was between you two.
"Such a pretty girl," Logan says as he's admiring your naked body under his, your soft features and curves; it drove him wild. He could already feel his cock hardening again, pulsating against your stomach. You felt it as well, pre-cum already leaking from his reddening tip and spilling into your stomach.
Logan grabs your thighs, pulling your legs over his shoulders; he then aligns his girthy, angry red tip against your cunt. "Ready for your old man?" Logan says teasingly as you look up at him doe-eyed, waiting to be fucked senseless.
"S'good s-sir," you moan as Logan's girthy cock splits you open, your warm, tight cunt squeezing around him. Your walls were clenching onto his cock so tightly he'd thought that he'd cum quickly, but he was able to restrain himself in the moment as his hips found a rhythm.
"You feel so good around me, sweetheart," Logan says in a low, deep growl as your walls are clenching around him. The angle at which Logan was pounding into you allowed him to bury his cock to the hilt, making your lower stomach protrude out, showing the outline of his thick cock in your stomach.
Your belly bulge catches the attention of Logan, and he takes a hand, pressing down on your lower stomach as he increases his pace. "L-lo t'm-much," you shakily moan out. The pressure of his large hand and him pounding into your cervix have you cross-eyed and drooling.
"Atta girl, you can take it," Logan groans in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Logan's pace starts to falter; his hips start stuttering, and he can feel the same tightening in his abdomen. "Daddy's going to fill you up nice and good, princess," he says, staring into your doe eyes, lost in pleasure.
Drool running down your mouth, hair slicked onto your face with sweat, body trembling with pleasure, inaudible mumbling, and soft moans falling from your lips as Logan continues his sloppy pace.
"Come on, pretty girl, use your words," Logan says with a shaky voice. "I—inside," you cry out to Logan, bringing your hands to his chest, scratching down his finely chiseled chest adorned with salt and pepper hair that led to a happy trail, which you absolutely adored.
"Huh, princess, I didn't catch you," Logan says, removing his hand from your lower stomach and grabbing your chin, squishing your face to catch your attention, doe eyes staring up at him. "C-cum i-inside," you tell him with a fucked-out expression on your face.
With that, Logan snaps; you can feel his cock twitching inside of your velvet walls, pulsating, ready to release inside your perfect cunt. "Daddy's going to get you pregnant," Logan lets out a deep groan; his cock pulsating quicker as he feels his balls throbbing, tightening up from his release.
"C-cumming," Logan moans out. You feel his cock twitching as he cums deep inside your cunt, filling up your pretty pussy. Seeing your face engrossed in pleasure, he saw his purpose, and that was to satisfy his pretty girl.
"D-daddy's s'good," you tremble out, voice shaky, Logan's cum filling up your stomach as he pounds away, riding out his high. "C-cumming daddy" you moan out as you cream around Logan's thick cock, eyes shutting tight as your lower stomach convulses.
"My pretty girl," Logan says softly as he takes his hand up to your face and caresses the side of your cheek, leaving a small peck.
Your hips bucking up to Logan quicker as you ride out your high, his voice so sweet and gentle. He knew it drove you crazy, so he used it to his advantage, praising his good girl like she deserves for being so sweet to her old man.
Finally coming to, your eyes focus on Logan's glistening hazel eyes. "Are you alright there, princess?" Logan says playfully while rubbing your cheek with his thumb. "Mhm," you tiredly nod as Logan lowers himself, moving the both of you to face each other, cock still filling your cunt.
You notice Logan's chest heaving, bringing your hand to rest on top of his chest. "Is the old man all drained?" you say in a teasing tone as your hand moves with his chest from his deep inhales. "Keep it up," Logan says firmly with a stern look on his face, which makes you giggle.
"Let's get you all cleaned up, pretty girl." Logan stands up and scoops you up in his arms, taking you to the bathroom. He fills the tub up, dipping his hand in to check the temperature, making sure to get it just right for his sweet girl.
Logan picks you up and slowly lowers you into the warm water; he then steps in and sits right behind you, your body now plush against his chest. You lay your head on his chest, eyes heavy, listening to Logan's soothing heartbeat has you drifting off to sleep.
Logan notices your eyes shutting, so he decides to clean you up and himself up quickly to get you two to bed quickly. Once he was done cleaning you up and dressing you in one of his shirts, he picked you up and laid you in bed carefully. "Sleep well, princess." Logan kisses you on your forehead and settles in right next to you, pulling you into his arms.
Logan was always very careful with his princess, never wanting to hurt you because you are his precious treasure. The one consistent person in his life, and he treasured you for that; you are his blessing, his gift.
feel free to reblog and leave a comment <3
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ old man!logan p!links ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
ʚ old man!logan pt.1 ɞ
ʚ old man!logan pt.2 ɞ
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kisakis-boyfriend · 1 month ago
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Atsushi’s first time doing breeding?
I feel like he’s be really nervous to do it, but he’d wanan do his best for his living bf and he ends up loving it so MUCH he goes into sub space.
Atsushi deserves some loving, my boy is understated in his own show ;(
♦️
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Pairings: Atsushi x male reader
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Atsushi, breeding kink, overstimulation, praise, fluffy aftercare
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“O-ok, you can…put it in now.” Atsushi blushes, intentionally hiding his face so that you won't see how nervous he is. Unfortunately for him, the rest of his body betrays that secrecy.
His fingers curl, gripping the sheets tighter as your fingers slide out of his wet hole, replacing them with your dick. The muscles in his back tighten, causing Atsushi to hunch over while your cock fills up his pretty hole. It's always so tight when you first enter him—no amount of fingering or orgasms do much about that. Not that that's a bad thing though.
“Don't hurt yourself, Atsushi — relax those shoulders, just like that.” you say, rubbing the tense areas of his back, all as the head of your cock pushes into his sweet spot again and again. You're not moving very fast, but the girth of your cock alone is enough to make Atsushi sweat. His knuckles have turned white from all of his sheet-gripping.
Soon enough, you ease into a faster, steady pace. Your lips brush against the back of Atsushi's neck and he shudders, feeling vulnerable under the shadow of your body. “My sweet boy, why are you so quiet today? Where are those beautiful moans of yours?” Truthfully, he was embarrassed to let any noise escape, too focused on this brand new experience to realize he'd been holding his lip between his teeth.
Sharper, more powerful thrusts finally get Atsushi to gasp; opening the door for his lovely moans and whimpers. You squeeze your partner's hips, hitting so deep in his guts that Atsushi swears you're about to ram your cock straight through his body– “Baby~ Baby, baby, baby… that little ass is going to milk me dry if you keep clenching like that- gnngh!”
As if his body knew what he wanted more than he could realize in this moment, Atsushi's hole clenched again, provoking you to fuck him harder — this is the perfect moment to try out that thing you agreed to.
“Oh fuck–!! Y'feel that, Atsushi? Feel how heavy my balls are? That's all for you, sweetheart~” you groaned into his ear, still curled around his body while your balls slap against his. Every thrust brings him closer to being filled by your warm cum, just like he asked before. “Need to- breed you, baby…please let me breed you!”
A quick 'yes' is all Atsushi can manage with his trembling voice, unable to think straight when your dick is hitting so deep and pounding his puffy hole until it becomes sore. Your warmth enters him, causing airy moans to spill out of his mouth while his eyes roll back. “Cumming-! B-breeding…my pretty boy!!” you manage through clenched teeth. You try to pull him closer still, pressing as far as humanly possible inside, while your cock pumps the last bit of cum into Atsushi's ass.
Beads of sweat build up on his forehead, and Atsushi's legs won't stop shaking, even though you haven't moved for a minute. His upper body falls forward gently, thanks to you, and this causes his back to arch deeply. All of that heavy breathing through his mouth has made Atsushi's throat dry, and his next words come out hoarse: “You…you really did it…” he wheezes, fingers limply resting on the sheets. “You…bred me-”
A chuckle falls from your lips, followed by a groan when you adjust yourself slightly and accidentally push on Atsushi's prostate again, making him moan so loud that you worry about neighbors hearing it.
Atsushi's brain turns to mush after that — corrupting whatever dignity and innocence he had left for the night, turning him into a babbling whore as he croaks; “Again…breed me again! Keep pounding me…please?”
And you'd be a fool not to take him up on that. You smirk at your partner's change in attitude, groping his ass before you nearly pull your cock out, only to push it back inside along with the cum still clinging to your shaft. “Oho, did my little kitty enjoy it that much?” a prolonged whine answers your question.
“You're so good for me, lovely. I'm gonna fill you up again, yeah?” you hum between every kiss pressed against Atsushi's upper back. “Just say the word, and we'll go again and again—as many times as my baby wants~”
Atsushi gulps, his body more sensitive than before, now keenly aware of the shape of your cock as it stretches his insides and leaves a bulge in his tummy. A dopey grin is plastered on his face while you snap your hips against his — your voice sings sweetly every praise you can imagine, every drag of your cock against his insides brings you that much closer to breeding him again.
And his own pretty voice eggs you on—to fuck him a little deeper, pounding his trembling body into the mattress so hard that Atsushi watches stars dance in front of him. His eyes blow wide open, then flutter as you cum inside of him once more.
Your breath is hot on his flushed skin, but your lover really doesn't mind, not when you, quite literally, fucked his brains out. Atsushi is limp and only half coherent when you eventually pull out, letting you roll him over and position him a bit more comfortably so that you can wipe his body down.
For the rest of the night, he's your little cuddle buddy who curls up against you, thanking you for being so good to him and making him feel good during this new experience.
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saetoru · 2 years ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.
contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)
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satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.
it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.
“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.
you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.
“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.
“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”
this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.
satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.
“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”
“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”
your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.
“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.
you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.
instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.
“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”
“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”
“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”
for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.
but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.
he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.
it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.
they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.
not if it’s him.
“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”
“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”
“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”
“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”
“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.
“satoru—”
“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”
“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.
“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.
“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”
“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”
“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”
“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”
“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.
his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.
“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”
“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“
“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.
“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”
“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”
“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”
“we’ll see,” he hums.
your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.
and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.
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he’s my liddol sourpatch :(
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astraystayyh · 2 years ago
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You're sexy I'm sexy
Jeongin x reader. Friends to lovers. Lots of pining and tension. Innie has a fat crush. Mention of alcohol and drinking!
Inspired by You're sexy I'm sexy by Eric Nam, also by this moodboard by @chachachannah <3
Jeongin is out with his friends, and you. You're tipsy and sitting on his lap, and he doesn't think he can keep his crush for you at bay anymore.
skz song series masterlist.
a.n: 7/8 of the series and a little fun break from all the angst <3 can't believe there is only one fic to go now :")
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Jeongin is out with nine of his friends, they are loud and boisterous, their laughter echoing throughout the small bar they're in. Yet, the only thing he can seem to focus on is you. You're giggling at a joke Minho just told, and it feels as if your laugh is molten sunshine, running through his veins and igniting him from within.
You squint your eyes as you take a sip of your drink, your nose scrunching up as the liquor grazes your tastebuds, and Jeongin can't seem to take his eyes off of you. He is enthralled by your every move, and you're not even doing anything.
He's had a crush on you for a while, four months to be exact- 120 days where his every waking moment was spent thinking of you. It happened so abruptly, taking him completely off-guard. He's never felt this way before- a blushing mess, putty in your hands, so pliable for you to mold however you want. 
He shakes his head, tugging slightly at his black bangs. He remembers how you complimented him on his new color, running a hand through his freshly dyed hair. You’re always so nonchalant, in your way of touching him as if you don't leave him burning up in your trail. As if your knee bumping into his doesn't make electricity shoot through his body, as if your arm resting lazily on his shoulder doesn't make the world around him fade away, until all he sees is you.
You stand up to go get another drink, and Jeongin finally feels as if he can breathe again. "You're staring at yn," Hyunjin nudges his side with his elbow, and Jeongin drawls out a whine, hiding his face in his hands, "I know." 
Some time has passed, and Chan has called over some people he knows, so now everyone is squeezed into this tiny brown booth with Jeongin at the end of it. But no one seems to mind the lack of space, everyone is delighted the exam season is finally over.
You come back, a red drink in your hand, and Jeongin can tell it’s you just from the intoxicating smell of your perfume. He's learned to recognize you through those small details- he can even distinguish your soft knocks on his door when you visit his dorm. 
There is no place left for you in the booth, and you pout slightly. Jeongin goes to stand up to leave you his place, but you push him gently back down. 
"Do you mind?" you ask, pointing at his lap and he startles, looking between you and his legs. He stays silent for a while, unsure of how to answer, and you smile slightly.
"Never mind, it's okay," you leave to get a chair but he grabs your hand abruptly, pulling you on top of his lap. 
Jeongin doesn't know what's taking over him, he's never been this bold. But he accounts it on the one sip of alcohol he's taken, this, and the fact you proposed such a thing. He knows you're tipsy because your cheeks are tinted pink and you don't seem to mind where you’re sitting, on his lap. 
Jeongin can't think straight anymore, too overwhelmed by the warmth of your body. You are everywhere, all at once, and he feels a sudden urge to bury his face in your hair and never let go. You move your hair to your right shoulder, and the scent of your shampoo tickles his nose. The curve of your neck is exposed, and he wonders what would happen if he grazed it with his teeth.
Would shivers run down your spin? Would you gasp softly, pupils dilating as if trying your best to take him all in?
You are laughing, again, and the melodic sound pulls Jeongin out of his wandering thoughts. He finds it endearing, how your entire body shakes when you chuckle, as if laughter reverberates through you from head to toe. Was it normal to be so aware of someone's existence? To know them more than you know yourself? 
"Am I bothering you?" you turn to ask him, a soft smile on your face, and he shakes his head. It felt as if his tongue was tied in an impossible knot, he couldn't think, or dare to speak with you so near. 
"You're warm," you point out, placing your cold hands on his heated cheeks. He closes his eyes, leaning into your cooling touch. 
"Here, let me," you smile, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket and shrugging it off of him. He simply watches as you place the discarded jacket on top of your lap, before rolling the sleeves of his white t-shirt a bit upward. Your hand lingers on his forearm, squeezing it lightly, and it feels as if you’ve sealed the skin with your palm. Anyone who gazes at it will be able to tell you touched him.
You lean your back onto his chest, and Jeongin tentatively wraps his arm around your waist. Your hand reaches up to play absentmindedly with his silver rings, and he wonders what you must look like to other people. He wanted them to think that you were a couple, he realizes. Maybe if enough people believed it, it'd become a reality.
The night passes and the place beside Jeongin frees up, but you stay on his lap. His chin is now on your shoulder, your back snug against his chest. He can feel every twitch of your body and every soft exhale you take, and he unconsciously mirrors your actions, as if looking for any way to intertwine your being with his.
He goes to grab a water bottle from the table but you hand it to him, unscrewing the cap in the process. You turn to face him, as he brings the bottle to his mouth, his eyes still fixated on you. A water droplet runs down his throat, and you trace over its path with your finger lightly, which makes his Adam's apple bob up and down furiously.
Your finger doesn't leave his skin- you are tracing over his collarbones now, and he licks his lips nervously. Your touch is barely there, it would be farfetched to even compare it to a feather. But it's you who's touching him, so he feels it, everywhere.
Your hand moves to rest on top of his chest, and he knows you can feel his heart beating widely in there. He thinks the entire room can hear it at this point. A testament of what you do to him, of what you make him feel. Only you.
"Hi there," you smile innocently and Jeongin lets out a dry chuckle, his hooded eyes gazing intensely into yours.
"Hey you," he whispers, grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. His gaze flickers from your eyes, to your nose and then to your lips. It stays there, too enamored to possibly move somewhere else. You're talking, he knows you are, but he can't seem to hear what you are saying.
He can't blame it on the alcohol because he hasn't even drunk that much. But his mind is foggy with thoughts of you, of what he wants to do with you, if you'd let him.
"Why are you looking at me like this?" you ask, a slight giggle rhythming your words. 
"Do you even know how pretty you are," he says in awe before his eyes slightly widen in shock. Did he just say this out loud?
"Is that why you kept looking at me all night?" you smile, a hint of teasing in your tone, and Jeongin buries his head in your shoulder. "Shut up," he says lowly, embarrassment clear in his voice at being caught. 
"It's okay, you're so pretty too," you smile, pulling his head away so you'd be able to look at him again. 
His eyes find your lips instantly, like two magnets that can't help but be drawn to one another- fated to be together, no matter how much they try to stay apart.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks breathlessly, raw hope dripping from his tone. "We don't have to be something more I just-" 
You cut him off with your mouth crashing on his, desperately, and he gasps onto you as if you're the oxygen with which he breathes. You taste sweeter than he could've ever imagined, and he's getting drunk from the way your mouths move against one another. He wraps his arm around your waist, thumb brushing your sides gently in an effort to bring you impossibly close. Your hands finds his hair, tugging slightly at the ends of it, and it's as if you wanted this too all along. As if Jeongin wasn't alone in his longing for you.
Your lips are soft, immensely so, and he doesn't think he can go back to not kissing you. To preserving you in his mind as a fond memory, not when he knows what it feels like to have his mouth on yours.
"I want to be somebody to you," he says between kisses, desperation lacing his words. He doesn't care how needy he sounds. He's been waiting for four months. If there is a slight chance you like him back, he'd take it and water it enough until it blooms into something much more.
"You already are," you smile into the kiss, your teeth clashing against his which makes you both giggle. "You'll kiss me again when we are sober, right?"
"I'll kiss you for the rest of my life if you'd let me," he brushes his nose against yours gently, and you smile softly at him, wiping the remains of your red lipstick from the corner of his mouth. He places a tender kiss on your wrist, before pressing his swollen lips onto yours again.
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dark-and-kawaii · 30 days ago
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You shiver as Oikawa pushes you against the storage closet wall, “I don’t think they’ll mind if I’m late to practice, do you?” His athletic body firmly against yours, your legs trembling as his fingers trail under your skirt.
Your breath hitches as he rubs you through your panties, the wetness making the fabric stick, “W-We shouldn’t do this here, T-Toru. We could get c-caught…”
He kisses along your jaw, nipping at the skin, his lips traveling over the sensitive skin of your ear, his teeth pulling gently at the lobe, “That just makes it more exciting, doesn't it, bunny? Be a good girl for me, tell me what I want to hear.”
“P-please,” you stammer, face flushed scarlet.
Oikawa's signature smirk widens as he leans in close, those long lashes batting at you, his nose brushing against yours, his hot breath on your mouth, his lips barely touching yours, “What happened to those pretty manners?” he taunts, making you squirm, “Beg properly for your captain.”
Your words dissolve into incoherent moans as he works you over thoroughly, his fingers teasing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, his long fingers slipping in and out of you with ease. Your hands claw at the wall behind you, the rough texture of it catching at your skin, the friction burning but not nearly as much as the heat pooling between your legs.
“Mn’Toru~ please, please, I want it, p-please fuck me~ aahhhnnn~” you whimper, the knot in your core tightening, the pressure building, the heat becoming unbearable.
“That’s it, just like that pretty girl,” Oikawa coos, his tongue dragging up the column of your neck, leaving a slick trail of saliva, “Say it again, come on, tell your captain what you want.”
His pace quickens, his fingers rubbing the spongy spot inside you, making your eyes roll back, “I-I want you to f-fuck me, please~ n’make it hard for me to walk, mmmhhaaa~ please, Captain~~”
Slipping another finger into your sloppy mess of a hole, your breasts press against his chest, the buttons of his shirt catching on your nipples, his other hand cupping one of your breasts through the fabric, pinching the tender bud between his fingers.
You let out a loud whine when you felt his fingers suddenly disappear from your needy hole. You were so close, just a little more.
“I should be late to practice more often,” he winks, admiring your thoroughly debauched state, his hand slick with your essence, his own pants painfully tight, his dick pressing uncomfortably against the zipper.
“T-Toru, don't tease me anymore, please I need it, I-I'll be good, I-I promise, p-please just fuck me already~” you huff, tears pricking the corners of your eyes, the desperation for him to fill you with his cock growing.
Oikawa laughs, a sound so pure and genuine it makes you melt. He loves how needy you can be, loves when you call him by his name so sweetly and call him Captain, it gets him every time, “alright, alright, bunny. How can I say no to a face like that~ you're lucky you're so cute, I don't know how I managed to keep my hands off you until now.”
You could feel your panties being pulled down and his hand on your ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, and then you feel the hard tip of his cock pressing against your entrance, your slick dripping down his shaft.
“Now, let’s see if we get caught.”
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helioooss · 7 months ago
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midnight rain
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synopsis: sana and y/n used to be the top celebrity couple in the entertainment industry. over a decade after a nasty break up, they meet again at a jimmy kimmel show
w/c: 5.2k
warnings: mentions of drug use and overdose, read at your own risk, angst with a happy ending
a/n: first story in ten years, creative brain’s a bit rough these days, haven’t been on tumblr since its golden days. also not proofread. hope ur all well and enjoy this one :)
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Your heart was beating out of your chest, each thump pushing you further you into a downward spiral as your clammy palms tapped against your bouncing knee. Leaning against the chair, you refused to make eye contact with anyone — the worried look on your face was enough to push them away, anyway. In a situation like this, it would be strange to not feel anxious.
After all, it had been over ten years since you let the love of your life go and agreeing to see her on live television was a decision that you have been regretting since the day you said yes.
Two minutes, you blew a breath out as you stared up at the monitor in front of you.
"Welcome to the Tonight Show!" Jimmy trailed off with a smile, the audience in front of him clapping as they yelled in excitement. "Thank you for being here, tonight we have two very special guests —"
A staff member tapped your shoulder, pulling you out of your messy thoughts with his apologetic face. "Y/N, it's time."
Uncrossing your legs, you nodded your head with a shy smile. The fact that you could hear your own heartbeat amongst all the noise made you uneasy, so you stood there for a moment longer; wondering what Minatozaki Sana looked like in person.
You haven't been this nervous since the world found out about your relationship with her.
Taking a deep breath, you walked out with your heart in your throat. You bowed your head at Jimmy and waved your hand at the audience members, screaming can be heard from the other end; your name being chanted, their anticipation shining through from seeing you on television again after what seemed like an eternal hiatus.
It would be a lie to say it didn't feel good to relive what was once your life like, but you don't regret disappearing from the spotlight.
You were happier now, away from all the awards and glory, you think.
As if you were in a movie, time suddenly stopped as she emerged from the other side in the black Yves Saint Laurent dress you bought her all those years ago — brown hair flowing freely past her shoulders as she mirrored your gestures towards the crowd. Watching her fondly, you were reminded of the moonlight that illuminated the surface of the endless ocean; truly God's masterpiece in its purest form. You were frozen in your spot as you stared at her with the utmost adoration and respect.
Then, she finally settled on your eyes and suddenly you felt like a kid again.
"Hello stranger," she said with a sly smile, taking the seat next to yours with the crowd going wild at your first interaction. "Hi Jimmy, thank you for having me."
"Yeah, I'm gonna pretend that you didn't acknowledge Y/N first," he teased, making her and everyone else chuckle. "Anyway, wow, you look wonderful. And so do you, Y/N!”
You grinned, nodding as you try to remember the rough script on how the conversations would go in your head. "Thank you for having me back here, Jimmy, I appreciate it."
"It's the both of you this time," he raised his eyebrow suggestively. "Which is amazing, the world hasn't seen you together in twelve years. Am I right?"
"Yes," she looked at you, heaving out a breath as she laughed. "Sorry, it just feels so weird to see you again."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Suddenly, you were pulled back into past; during the last time you ever saw her in the alleyway behind Stanley's; your favourite getaway restaurant during midnights. Every now and then, you remembered it; the pain from losing her always came back like it just happened and you wonder if you've really moved on.
"We can't keep doing this," she said with tears welling in her eyes. "It's so hard, Y/N, and as much as I love you, our relationship is mentally breaking me."
You shook your head in desperation, cupping her cheeks with both of your hands. "That's what they want, you know that, our fans want us to break up. You don't have to do this, baby, I'm sure there's another way. We can talk to both of our managements —"
She sighed, pulling away from you. Both physically and emotionally. "I've spoken to mine and they respect my decision.
You paused, repeating the words in your head to make sure you heard her right. It felt like she just stabbed you in the back as you gawked at her with defeat in your eyes, shoulders slumping while piecing everything together. "The last time you spoke to them about our relationship was over a month ago, and you're only talking to me about this now? Is that how you've been feeling this whole time?"
Her tears rolled down her face, understanding the betrayal you felt. "It's not just the fans, Y/N, it's literally everything. I barely get to talk to you and see you. How can we both work it out when we can't even create time for each other?"
"I'll do anything for you, my love, just say the word and I will cancel everything - you know that! Every project, every interview, every shoot, literally anything —"
"No, I stand by my decision," she said firmly. "Perhaps, when you and I have achieved all our dreams...then we can work it out. This isn't the right time for us —"
"Four fucking years, Sana," you bellowed angrily, fists clenching. There was pain written on her face from hearing you call her by her name. "From the very beginning, we have been there for each other. What the fuck am I supposed to do without you?"
"Let me go — we'll both be happier without each other."
"No," you shook your head, tugging her closer towards you. However, she resisted. "Please, please don't do this. Don't leave me like this. What happened to forever?"
Her tears rolled down her cheek at the sound of your defeated voice. As much as it hurt her, she had to make up a lie on the spot. "I don't love you anymore. I — there's someone else."
Just like that, all of your hopes and dreams for the future shattered. Without her, the life you built meant nothing.
She really wanted you out of her life and there was nothing you could do about it. Shoulders slumping, you looked down - the thunderous roar of the oncoming storm startled her whilst it had no effect on you. "Okay, I see what you're doing. It's going to start raining, you should go."
She doesn't know whether it was the coldness in your voice or the wind, nonetheless, she shivered. "Y/N -"
"Leave, that's what you wanted, right?" you looked up at her, eyebrows furrowing. "I don't understand what I've done to you to justify what you're doing. I know I don't deserve any of this. If you're going to leave, leave now and never come back. And when I say never, I mean it, Minatozaki Sana."
She nodded her head, turning on her heel with a sob. Tiny specks of rain began to pour down on you, the rest of your world going down with it. You watched her walk away from you as if it were the easiest thing - did she ever really love you?
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"I can't pinpoint whether that's a good thing or not, but considering I'm your ex, I'd say that's a bad thing," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully.
She laughed once more, shaking her head at you. You swear that sound never failed to put you on a pedestal. "It's just surreal, I haven't seen you in so long. You look younger than I can remember."
"You never reply to any of my messages," you put your hands up at her as Jimmy bursted into another set of laughter. You didn't know where the confidence was coming from, but you were relieved you were feeling something else other than being constantly nervous. "I'm joking, I don't have her number. I'm sure you don't mind giving it to me after the show, right?"
"God, get a room," Jimmy whined, turning you into a blushing mess. "Before you both propose to each other, Sana, let's talk about the dress you're wearing tonight. Somebody may or may have not told me that you're wearing something very special."
"We'll talk about my number after the show," Sana turned to you, winking; making the heat rise on your face. "Yes Jimmy, this dress is probably my favourite one out of everything - I don't wear it very often, obviously, but this beautiful Yves Saint Laurent piece was a gift from Y/N thirteen years ago."
You stared at her in awe, the way she spoke with so much grace never failed to impress you. The years had done her a favour - life always seemed easier on her than it was on you.
She left you behind, after all.
"Look, I'm just glad you kept it because this archival piece cost me a lot back then," you admitted with the biggest grin on your face as you looked at anyone but her. You couldn't place what it was about her that struck you so forcefully, but you simply couldn't take your eyes off her and you somewhat needed to feel in control of your emotions. "It was our first anniversary, I had just gotten a pretty decent check from Little Women and I wanted to give her something special."
"You got a big check in twenty-nineteen and the first thing you thought of was a dress for your girlfriend instead of a Lamborghini to flaunt on Instagram?" Jimmy scoffed as you and Sana giggled at him. "Get out of here!"
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
Your anniversary was coming up and frankly, you wanted to give her the world. You were panicking inside; with the amount of things you've gotten her, none of them felt special. You hummed as you sat in Chou Tzuyu's kitchen, patiently waiting for her to acknowledge you.
"You know, if you weren't my friend, I'd have you sent out of my house already," she grumbled in a playful way. "Seriously, I'm telling you that she will love that Saint Laurent dress by Tom Ford."
You sighed, shaking your head. "It's our anniversary though, it's special. Do you think giving her a dress and taking her to Hawaii are good enough?"
"Jesus Y/N, that woman looks at you with stars in her eyes — she will love anything you get her. If you ask her to marry you right now, I believe she will say yes in less than a heartbeat."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The show was going very well, you felt relieved as time went by, and you were actually enjoying the things you found out about Sana after you had broken up.
She went on to become a successful solo artist and fashion model after Twice's disbandment, and you couldn't be any prouder. It had always been her dream and you always knew she was made to be a superstar - you prayed for her to achieve it, even if it meant she would be harder to reach.
You were able to open up about your past; the dark hole you fell into after the breakup — all the women, the legal troubles and the projects that failed because of your behaviour; it wasn't easy to talk about, but somehow, the way she intensely listened made all the fear go away. It would be an understatement to say you haven't felt this comfortable in years — just watching her talk about her passions put you in awe.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
You were barely conscious in a suite at The Ritz in Paris, an unlit cigarette resting on your mouth as you scrambled to find the lighter in your pocket. The only thing illuminating the room was that stupid lamp on the office table. And you hated it, you really did, because it was the same model she broke the last time you were here with her.
You felt so warm - breathing heaved and beads of sweat forming on your forehead. And you laughed to yourself because it was pathetic, really. You were all alone in the city of love because the love of your life decided she wanted to move on from you.
And suddenly, the door opened with Jongin appearing from behind it.  "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Kai..." you could barely mutter his name as the world spun around you. "You're here!"
He knelt in front of you, forcing you to sit up. He tapped both of your cheeks worriedly. "Look at me, open your fucking eyes!"
You cupped his face back with a chuckle, everything seemingly softer around the edges. "Eyes open."
"I need you to tell me how much of these pills you had and when," he dangled the two bags in front of you but all you could think of was her face; the way her eyes lit up whenever you told her you loved her and that smile of hers that never failed to put you in a spiral. "Momo, I need you to stop freaking out and call an ambulance right now."
You were lying against Jongin's chest, your vision blacking in and out.
"We're at the Windsor suite at The Ritz, we have called the hotel medic and they're coming," you heard someone frantically say. "Y/N looks really unwell. Please hurry, please!"
There was buzzing all around you, and you smiled to yourself before giving in and closing your eyes. "Happy 27th birthday to me."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"But how are you doing now?" Jimmy asked with a sympathetic look in his face.
"I..." you looked down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. "I don't think I know who I am anymore after everything. I regret everything that I've done - all the fame and the money, I don't think it was worth losing myself over the superficial things. Then again, rehab and lots of therapy helped me a lot, you know, I always thought I wouldn't make it past 27...but here I am. All thanks to everyone who held me together."
Everyone began clapping in the audience, your cheeks reddening at all the attention. Despite being a nervous wreck, you managed to let out a small smile. You could feel her eyes on you, yet you refused to look again.
"Would you change what happened in the past?"
Deep down, you were aware of the answer to his question. It'll always be a yes. Everything that you have now wasn't worth more than her.  As ridiculous as it sounded, you would've given it all up for her; without her in your life, it always felt like you achieved it for nothing.
It was supposed to be her and you against the world. As much as it sounded wrong, your love for her will always be greater than your dreams.
"Yes, I would've," you pursed your lips, looking down at your roughed up running sneakers. Compared to her look, yours was too casual. If you were younger, you would've been on the same level as her. You didn't belong to each other now, what else was different about her these days? "For most of you who didn't know, the world hated that her and I were together. Everyone criticised each move we did. We were young...really young, it felt suffocating to hear the same things from the public but god, I loved her so much. To this day, I'm firm on my decision that I would've given up on my dreams for her if it meant I could keep her."
You were truly not over what you had, but with everything that has happened after that, you don't think you could let her in again. Not now.
Not when you were still a mess.
She placed her hand on top of yours, gently squeezing it. "If I knew that letting the world find us would ruin what we had, I would've kept you a secret," she paused, looking at you with pure adoration plastered on her face. "For as long as I could have."
Jimmy nodded his head, satisfied with your answers. "Well, that's it for tonight's show everyone. Please give a huge round of applause to our dear Y/N and Sana!"
You stood up, stepping closer towards Jimmy as you wrapped his arms around him, whispering. "Thanks heaps for having us tonight, never thought we'd cross paths again."
He was smiling as if he understood how it felt. "Anytime, Y/N, my wife and I were big fans back in the day."
You didn't respond, eyes following her instead. There was a sudden sharp ache in your chest as you watched her walk away from you, not bothering to look back.
Jimmy noticed the change in your emotions, squeezing your arm in comfort. "Hey, she'll be backstage for another half an hour. Don't let this chance slip away."
You heaved out a sigh, a defeated look on your face. Perhaps, her actions were all for the show, but god, her face said it all — she missed you as much as you missed her. "I can't, Jimmy. I'm a mess. I think I'll always be a mess. Do you think I could leave without her seeing me or knowing about it?"
There was surprise written on his face at your question. "I thought you guys did great out there, don't you wanna rekindle it?"
"No," you frowned. "I still love her...but its been over a decade and a lot has changed. She rejected me the last time I saw her. She seems happier - I'm still working on myself. I can't risk it."
"I understand," he smiled at you with sympathy. "Come, I'll get one of my producers to show you out."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"Sana is here with her rumoured girlfriend," Lisa rasped out, closing the door behind her as she leaned against it - eyes wide and all that. "How are we gonna hide her from Y/N? She's literally sitting outside."
Jennie had horror written all over her face as soon as her eyes landed on your messy face - wonton soup smeared all over your mouth. "Actually...Y/N is here."
Lisa gasped at the sight of you. "I thought you went to order more drinks at the bar!"
You shook your head, standing up. "No, I ordered it through a QR code like I said I would. Where is she?"
"Y/N," Jennie held your hand to stop you. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'll be fine, Nini," you smiled reassuringly, rubbing your thumb against her skin. "I just wanna see what she looks like now."
"It's been seven years, Y/N," Lisa deadpanned, arms crossed and still blocking the door out of the private dining area. "She has moved on and so have you."
"We all know that's a lie."
With a mask of disappointment in her eyes, she took a step ahead to get out of your way, her shoulders slumped as she shook her head disappointingly. "This is going to pull you back a hundred times worst."
And it did. You wished you had listened to Lisa because as soon as Sana's eyes landed on yours, her smile faltered and turned into a worried frown. "Not now, Y/N, talk to me when you're sober. And in private."
"I am sober, Sana," you whispered frozen in place, a pang of pain rushing through every nerve end in your body. “Can we talk, please?”
She wouldn’t even look at you. “If you have anything important to say, I don’t want to hear it.”
You felt sick, stomach twisting in more ways than one and a sudden onset of frustration washed over you. “How could you be so cruel?”
She was once the constellations you admired, now the moon weeps at how she dimmed the brightness within you.
“We’re in public!”
“Nobody fucking knows us here,” your frail attempt at choking up your anger was visibly failing. “You know what? Fuck this, whatever. Have a nice life.”
“Y/N, wait,” she seemed taken aback at your outburst, quickly standing up to trail behind you.
“Fuck you, Sana.”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
The days that followed after your first public appearance became a blur. You were all over the news again, this time, they were all positive things about you (according to your publicists). Many old friends from the industry have been trying to reach out, some wanted to meet up for their own good - however, most were just glad to see you alive and well.
Since your hiatus, you have been away from the public eye; all of your social media accounts remained stagnant. Even the sleaziest paparazzi companies couldn't figure out where you were.
After all, you were and still are one of the biggest names on the industry.
"Here goes nothing," you said as you tapped on the 'share' button. It was a selfie of you in your bedroom - your bookshelf and art collection on the background. The caption was a simple 'this is 34'.
You closed your eyes as you inhaled a deep breath; it was your first post in nearly three years and you feel absolutely terrified. They were definitely going to judge the way you've aged, the books you read and a lot more other things that you should be prepared for and be used to - but you weren't.
Not long after, your phone rang; interrupting (thankfully) you from your dilemma. It was your mum on the other end. "Hey ma," you greet with a grin.
"Your dad, siblings and I wish you the happiest birthday today, my darling. Will you come and see us this year?" she asked with hope in her voice.
"Ma, I was just there last week," you playfully rolled your eyes. "Besides, if I come now, they will figure out where our family home is. And eventually, the public will find out where I live too."
"I know, I know," she hummed. "But you've been celebrating your birthday alone for years now. Why can't you invite your old friends? I'm sure Jongin and Momo and Lisa and Jennie and Jisoo and Jimin and Jungkook and —"
"Okay, okay," you chuckled. "I'm sure they all miss me too but I don't think I'm ready to let people in again. They're all living very busy lives. I enjoy my solitude right now and —" the sound of ringing from your front door cut you off, startled, you moved the phone away from your ear to make sure you weren't hearing things (again). "Uh, there's someone at the front. Must be one of my book deliveries — well, I hope."
"Aren't you gonna open the door?"
"No, why would I? Then they'll find out I live here." However, the doorbell rang once more. "Oh god, what if I accidentally put my location on my Instagram? Ma, I'll call you back."
"Y/N, it's —"
"Bye, I love you!"
You quickly hung up and turned your phone off before padding across your camera room to see who the person on the other side of the door was.
Your breath hitches at the sight of your ex-girlfriend patiently standing outside with a birthday cake on her hand. After a month of not seeing her, your shoulders slumped into a more relaxed state as you take another deep breath; pressing the red button.
"Sana?" you said with hesitation through the speaker. "You have red hair?"
"Hi Y/N," she waved at the camera. Damn that smile. "Happy birthday, please let me in before anyone sees. And yes, I had to dye it for a shoot."
You cleared your throat. "Uh, I'm coming," you walked towards the front door with your lips tucked behind your upper teeth. You pull the wooden door open, revealing the fiery-haired beauty on the other side. Your heart hammers against your chest and your fingers visibly shake as you step away to let her in. "It suits you."
"Thank you," she smiled shyly, looking around your place. "This is a lovely home, Y/N."
"Come," you took the cake off her hands as you walk towards the open kitchen with a view of the forest surrounding your house. "Pretty bold of you to assume caramel is still my favourite."
She frowned. "Is it not?"
You laughed. "No, no, it still is." As soon as you set the cake on the counter, you looked up to meet her gaze. "How did you find me?"
"Your parents," she quickly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her loose cardigan. "I called to see how they were doing."
"And why's that?" you curiously raised an eyebrow, attempting to kill the assumption that she missed you in your head.
She took a step closer towards the counter — the only thing separating you away from her. "Because I wanted to find you," she paused, biting her lip. "After the interview, you disappeared. Just like that. No goodbye, no nothing. Why?"
"Why not?" your tone made her flinch, reminding her of the same coldness you showed her in that alleyway.
"We were doing so well...the interview, I thought you would maybe want to catch up —"
"I did, then I remembered how you broke my heart and then many other thoughts came along after that. Remember when you told me there was someone —"
"An obvious lie, Y/N, there was only you."
A sigh escaped your lips as you avoid her eyes. "For years, I made myself believe that it was true just so I could hate you. And not even a year later, Sana, not even a year, you began dating someone else. A fucking CEO out of all people — a guy who was probably busier than most of us combined; that was such a massive slap in the face considering you told me it wasn't working because of our schedules."
"It was —"
You raised a finger, stopping her. "No, I told you to leave and never come back. I told you that, do you remember?"
"I do," she tilted her head carefully, gaze holding that same familiar hurt all those years ago. "I do, and that's the sole reason I refused to knock on your door again for a decade - no matter how much I begged myself to. I couldn't bring myself to, anyway, not after I hurt you."
"So why are you here?" you asked, voice strained.
"Because I'm still deeply in love with you after all these years, because I believe you're the love of my life and I still want to grow old with you. And I want to love you again if you'll let me, Y/N, please. I love you, that's why I'm here.”
You looked up to find tears pooling in Sana's eyes, she turned away before wiping them away with her fingers. All you could hear was the drumming coming from your chest, your head all over the place once again.
You remembered it so vividly, the moment you wanted to marry her...the cherry red box that was sitting untouched in your safe after all these years. And it hurt.
"Say something, please," she sniffled, pleading you with her eyes as she placed her hand on top of yours - her cold skin against yours now lingering for a moment too long.
"Look at me, Sana," you exasperated, arms flinging wide open. "Look at the mess I am. I've been to rehab more than I can count my fingers. I ruined my own reputation and I hurt so many people along the way. There were days where I could barely breathe, days where I wanted it all to stop. And those days still come every now and then. I have pushed everyone away - even my own family. There's a barrier between me and all of the people I love, the gap will always remain because of the things I've done. And you say you want me?"
"I want you, chaos and all. I have loved you all these years...what's so different about now?"
"Do you know how long has it been since our break up?" you scoffed, pinching the bridge of your nose to stop the tears from coming. "You are in love with the idea of me, not who I am."
"Then let me unravel you once more, Y/N, this is all I'm asking for. I know I walked away when you needed me the most and I'm so fucking sorry, I live with that guilty everyday - god, I was so worried. I didn't sleep for a year when we were 27 because I didn't want to wake up to find out you were dead like everyone else would say. I should've reached out then because I knew that I couldn't live this lifetime without you. I didn't want to, not if you weren't in it. I ask myself why I didn't, but I can never find the right answer. All I know is I'm here now, and I'm never gonna let you slip away ever again."
Your walls began to crumble at her intimate confession. This time, you took both of her hands under yours, unable to stop yourself now. "I was going to marry you but you didn't stick long enough for me to do that."
"W-what?" she stammered, her voice breaking. "You were?"
It felt as if there was a knot wrapping your heart and your chest together, squeezing in a way that it almost hurt to breathe. There were so many thoughts flying through your mind, a million of what would've, could've and should've beens.
She unexpectedly collided her body against yours, making you stumble in your feet. Your hands luckily gripped the edge of the counter, balancing her and you together. Her arms snaked around your waist, engulfing you in a tight embrace as she whispered a million apologies.
"I'm so sorry," she cried, pushing you away with her hands. "Oh my god, how did I fuck this up so bad? I love you so much, why?"
"We both were fuck ups, weren't we?" you chuckled through the tears flowing down your cheeks. "Too young to know how cruel the world was."
"Will you please let me in again, Y/N? Let me fix this. I want you and I want us again. I don't care what they all think.”
"I don't deserve you, Sana, I think I'll only end up hurting you. I've been alone for so long now that if you asked me what love was like, I would only be able to mutter your name and remember what ours was like."
"Like the way I hurt you?" she croaked out, intertwining her fingers with yours - thumb rubbing gentle circles against your cold skin. "We'll work through it, together. I know what I'm walking into, I'm not as naive as I used to be. It won't be easy, but I love you. And I can't let this go - I'll never love again if it's not you."
You braced your hands on her hips, pulling her again. You welcomed her in, arms wrapped around her body - never wanting to let go. You stayed like this for a while; the comfortable silence filling all the missing puzzle pieces in your life. "I'm scared."
"I know," she sighed, rubbing your back with her palms. "I'm here now."
For years, you were lost. But not anymore. She was here now and you were home. Again.
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awrkive · 5 months ago
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PLEASE LET CNBL COUPLE HAVE THEIR SEXTAPE 🤤 i think oc would be down to that idea but i get why jungkook is taking things slow too but my man is a simp fr he would put it in a loop because he’s obsessed with his girlfriend
i got u anon. ive got an ask about it sometime ago abt what miss cnbl!oc feels about digital s*x or film s*x. thought of an idea. this is 2 years after wncl, which is sorta kinda like the sequel of cnbl lols. anyways this is kinda self indulgent and honestly just an excuse to write smut 😭
summary: jungkook can't bear being away from you, and so you give him a solution
w/c: 2k lol
warning/s: consensual filming, unprotected s*x, cre*mpies
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Jungkook can get pretty intense during reunions. In fact, intense is an understatement. He absolutely goes fervent, and you can’t blame him when you missed him just as bad too. 
“Ngh– fuck, I miss you so much, baby. I miss you every fucking day,” he groans into your ear, pumping his cock in and out of you at that pace that’s just so right. Not too fast. Not too slow. Just enough to make you keen; to make you grip the sheets behind you so tight. Just enough to not make it hurt when you've already come two times from his mouth and tongue, and another two times from his dick. Consequently, he's already two creampies inside your pussy and it's not even been a full hour.
And just when you thought that he’d be satisfied by the last time, he’s now determined on coaxing a fifth release from you. 
Frankly, you don’t know if you can do it. Sure, there was one time last year when he made you cum seven times in a row – and Jungkook still talks about it like a kid high on sugar, mentions it every now and then, keeps on wanting to do it again sometime – but it’s too bad you can’t keep up with him all of the time. Jungkook’s stamina is high and yours isn’t all that exemplary.
But you do try your best to match it because you love it just as well. You love the feeling of his cum shooting inside your hole, him pushing it back into you in that non-overbearing possessive manner, and how he always tells you you’re such a good girl for taking more and more, just letting him give and give. 
It’s why you encourage him to get you to cum again – because god, you really also missed him so fucking bad. 
He just got back from LA, just arrived at your place five hours ago, and you expected him to sleep the whole night in – not when you know he worked so hard back there. His team just bagged a win, and they’re moving onto semis the next few weeks. 
But Jungkook informed you that he had to leave again in six days – had to train across oceans again with the team. Said that he just begged his coach to get him a one-week vacay when others only got four. 
It’s not unfair when he’s the star player of the team he’s been winning for in the entirety of the last year. Jungkook’s an NBA player who has gained much bigger success and popularity ever since he got drafted, despite being so young and fresh to the scene. 
And sure, he basks in it sometimes – likes the praise, likes the way winning makes him feel. He loves playing for the team. Loves the work that he does. 
But one thing he absolutely fucking loathes about it is that he has to fly off across states for a game, and that means leaving the comfort of your shared apartment – leaving you, not being with you. 
And so you understand greatly why he’s intense during reunions. Because as much as you’re happy with your current lawyering – in your second year now – you also miss those days back in college when you could just have each other every single day. 
“Yes, fuck– oh there, baby, that feels so good…” you moan when he hits a particular spot. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he encloses his hot mouth around your nipple again, alternating on suckling and nipping around it, his other hand fondling your other boob. But again, Jungkook seems to be so on edge right now that you let out an “Ow!” at one harsh bite. 
“Sorry,” Jungkook soothes it with a kiss to the tip, hips still moving against yours, cock going at a steady pace in and out of your pussy. “I just missed you so much, pretty girl. Those calls weren’t enough.” He whispers against your chest, this time lapping at your breasts more gently. 
You reach out for the messy locks that sit atop his head, smiling gently down at him even though he can’t see you. 
“Babe?” 
“Hm?”
“Do you want to take a video?” You ask, still caressing his hair. 
You don’t expect the way his hips stutter after your question. The quickness in which he peels his head away from your tits to look at you with a surprised face after that is almost laughable but that would be mean of you.
“What?” 
“A video. Of us. I dunno… maybe it will do us both good if we have something of us while we’re away from each other.” you shrug nonchalantly. 
You both aren’t strangers to sending nudes to each other or sexting in general. Jungkook sends you videos and pictures of his dick a lot of times – unprovoked and even on a random Tuesday at 2 fucking pm. And you send him your tits and risky pictures of you in crotchless panties when you feel like it. (Like when you’re taking a bath and you're feeling a bit raunchy with the soap suds all over your breasts… Jungkook gets so drunk off the pictures that he fucks you so good once he gets ahold of you in person.)
It used to be just tits but you’ve upgraded to pussy pics… hey, it’s just that you’ve grown more comfortable overtime.
Being with Jungkook for three years now, you can say that you’ve tried a lot of things with sex. But somehow… you’ve never really tried making a sex tape. 
Sure, Jungkook’s brought it up before. Asked you if you were interested in the idea – but you answerwd with an affirmative no. Photos were okay, but videos were off-limits, and Jungkook was completely fine with that. It is your body, and he understands thoroughly the anxiety that you have behind the idea of sexual digital footprint – you’re a woman after all, there’s ultimately danger as a consequence to the very idea. 
It’s not even Jungkook you don’t trust. God, you trust him so much – but it’s this paranoia about imaginary people who are out to get you. 
And so that has always held you back. 
But right now, as you feel Jungkook’s frustration about the long distance thing as much as his love while he drives you up the headboard with his loving, passionate thrusts, you can’t help but think that maybe you can give this a try. 
Filming a sextape, you meant. 
“Are you sure?” Jungkook blinks up at you, eyes wide as it opens and blinks continuously. 
You chuckle. “Yes. Why do you look so surprised?”
Jungkook smiles shyly, and it’s adorable because he’s literally balls deep in you right now. 
“I thought it was no-go.” 
“Please,” you roll your eyes playfully– but you’re soon cut off by a particular thrust. Jungkook knows this too, as he begins peppering kisses all over your jaw, humming to let you know he’s still listening. You stammer a little, but you manage to let out a continuation of your sentence, “I let you put your dick in my ass and spit in my mouth. Nothing is no-go between us at this point.” 
Your joke may not have been the funniest – as it just further riles Jungkook up by the way he suddenly picks up his speec. 
“Oh, fuck, you little minx – you really had to say that, huh?” He emerges from your neck and grabs your jaw – albeit softly. “Get me real fucking hard talking about those.” 
“You can do them to me on camera now.” you say, challenging. And you laugh when you feel him literally freeze. But it’s not as funny anymore when his cock throbs inside of you, and suddenly, you feel the urge to cum again. To release one more time.
He recovers quickly from the shock, though. “Yeah?” 
You gasp when he plunges his cock back into you, only leaving the first half of his length before he enters again. He repeats that motion until your neck is craned back and your eyes are seeing stars. 
“Keep going like that— yes, yes!” You say, starting to get hysterical because you can feel that coil in the pit of your stomach now. 
Just a few more pumps and it will come out anytime soon. 
“You’re so fucking hot and pretty, look at you.” Jungkook sighs, taking a hold of your hips this time so he can hit deeper. And he does hit deeper, alright – that it doesn’t really take too long before you spasm around his length again, your fifth orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. 
You lie there on the mattress completely lax while Jungkook goes on with a few more erratic trusts until you feel that hot liquid cum shooting straight to your hole. 
The both of you mewl in unison at the sensation, with Jungkook kissing your mouth to bask in the moment.
When he breaks away, he caresses your cheek and plants a sweet peck to the tip of your nose.
“We’re filming the sextape tomorrow but can I take a video of your pussy full of my cum right now?” He asks seriously, and his polite tone – as if he’s requesting something at the White House – makes you laugh again. You're so giggly now that he's back. Go figure.
(How you love him so much.)
“Okay.” you say, and you watch as his eyes widen, cock twitching inside your pussy that he still hasn’t pulled out from you yet.
“Fuck, you’re the fucking best.” He says as he picks up his phone from the nightstand. 
Turning it sideways, he grips the device with his left hand, turning the camera to your body. 
“Just make sure it doesn’t pick up my face, okay?” You say, but nonetheless enjoy the sight of his hooded eyes roaming around your naked body like he’s high on it. 
“I know. I’ll do that.” Jungkook murmurs, but you know he’s distracted, especially when you finally get to see the sudden shift in position where he’s kneeling on his calf now in between your spread legs. “Open wider for me, baby, let the camera see how full you are with my cock and cum.” 
You hiss at that, and you let Jungkook guide your thigh with his free hand as he helps you spread the two of them wider.
“Hold them for me, princess, just a min.” Jungkook says, folding your knees until they’re all up in your chest. With his help, you relax in that position, waiting for what he does next. “Good. Good girl. Always so behaved…” he trails off, and slowly, he slides out his cock from your heat. 
Jungkook thinks your face is the most beautiful he’s ever seen and your pussy stuffed, leaking with his cum is a close second. 
“Fuck.” He whispers, making sure the camera captures just how white your pussy is now with his thick cum – a product of five straight orgasms he’d coaxed out from you. He wants to highlight the way your pussy throbs, but sadly with the bad lighting and him using a phone camera, he can’t. 
Still, he relishes in the high of seeing you bare like this. With the tip of his cock just right beside your pussy, he slides the crown back to gather all the cum that dripped out, pushing it back into you. 
There's an overspill that coats his dick as well, and it’s making him feel things. Like his cock getting hard again even though he just came the second time. 
“Oh, Jungkook…” You sigh out, feeling overstimulated now. But as you look at his face, completely distracted, you enjoy the view instead. “You like that, baby?” You ask meekly, thinking that maybe he’d like that when he watches this again. 
“So fucking much, you have no fucking idea.” Jungkook huffs. “You’re so full already but there’s still so much leaking out.” 
“That’s all of you, Jungkook,” You say sweetly. 
“Hm. I know… shit… I just wanna do this everyday.” 
“Film is?” You snort. 
“Fucking you… being with you. I was going crazy in my hotel room at LA. Just wanna be with you all the time.” He laments. Jungkook presses on the phone and suddenly, he puts it back on the nightstand. 
“Awe. Poor baby.” You respond, tapping his forearm, putting your legs down while Jungkook soothes your thighs with gentle rubbing. 
You thought he’s done for the night, but suddenly, he says, “Angel, I may have lied. Can we film the sextape tonight, please?” 
You laugh. Again. And Jungkook just falls down your body, snuggles close to your chest as you instantly play with his hair. 
“Alright.” You say, craning your neck down to press a kiss on the crown of his head. 
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soulofapatrick · 1 year ago
Text
Wheels up in thirty - Aaron Hotchner x Female reader
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Summary: You and Hotch finally get physical and its so much better than you had ever thought it could be
Words: 1.9K
Warnings: smut; p in v; somewhat rough; dom/sub; kinda porn with no plot; plot if you squint
Notes: I need to be stopped, Hotch needs more fiction
Y/N's POV
I’m not sure how I ended up here again, straddling Hotch’s waist in just my panties and him in just his boxers. His hands are gripping my hips hard enough to leave bruises as he guides me along the length of his clothes crotch. The tip has escaped his waistband, red and angry and dripping precum that I want to lick up but I can’t move. 
“H-Hotch.” I choke out in frustration when his phone starts ringing, mine buzzing across the room in my to go bag that was thrown haphazardly across the room somewhere. 
He surprises me by ignoring it, instead choosing to make me rise to my knees to he can shimmy out of those black boxers, dick springing up and I think I almost come right then and there at the sheer size and girth of him. His left hand goes back to my hips, slotting in the dip as if my body was made just for him. His right pushes my panties aside so grip the base of his girth, lining myself up before slowly beginning to sink down. The stretch burns but it’s oh so beautiful, this being the first time we’ve gotten this far. 
I still remember Hotch admitting his feelings for me one night after a particularly stressful case, both of us sat in his office on the sofa. Everyone else had gone home but I had nothing to go home to so I sat there with Hotch, the heat of his skin searing as he turned and kissed me. 
“Hotchner.” My head flies down to see Hotch has finally answered his phone, his hand on my hip not haltering its gentle push and pull. It has my jaw falling open at the pure scandal of what Hotch is currently doing when he says, “JJ, we’ll be there as soon as.” He swallows hard when he realises he said ‘we’ “Yes. Alright see you soon.”
His head falls back into the pillow when I rock my hips gently, hanging up and throwing his phone in the top drawer of his bedside table, cognac eyes fluttering open to meet mine, darkening so much they’re almost black. He sounds so wrecked already, a light sheen of sweat over his skin, his dark hair pressed against his forehead and the sight of him alone has me rocking my hips even more slowly, grinding into him. 
A surprised sound leaves my throat when one of his hands tangles in my hair ad tugs as he’s suddenly flipping us over. My nails are digging into his biceps until he moves one hand between us to rub circles into my clit to distract me from the new angle that has him buried to the hilt. I swear I can feel every bump and ridge of him against my fluttering walls as I find his now damp messy hair and tugging almost harshly but he just moans, loud and dirty, “C-Can I?” He sounds like he’s choking, trying to keep his hips as still as he can as to give me time to adjust to the new angle. 
I don’t reply, just wrap my legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back and he gets the hint. He pulls out until just the tip is in before slamming back to the hilt, dragging such loud moans from both of us, his lips move down my chest until they’re enclosing around one of my nipples, one hand finding my hand and intertwining our fingers while the other hand digs into my hips to stop me shifting up the bed as he sets an almost brutal pace. It adds to the almost overwhelming pleasure and I don’t think I’m going to last long with how I’m already clamping around him and my thighs are shaking and Hotch can tell as there’s a smile etches into my skin as he moves his lips back to the soft spot just below my jaw. 
“Come for me princess.” His thumb rubs along my bottom lip and I’m sucking it into my mouth, tasting the saltiness on it and without warning my back is arching, yanking him into a bruising kiss as my body writhes and tries to move away from him as he continues to pound me into the bed, my eyes rolling into the back of my head, “That’s it darling, I’ve got you.” Tears prickle at the corners of my eyes as I come down from my high almost too quickly, body trying to wriggle away from him but his hands are flying to hold me in place as he continues to whisper lovingly into my skin, “One more princess, just one more.” 
“Aaron,” I choke out, “P-phone-“ His phone is buzzing frantically in the bed side table but he ignores it so I do too, wanting everything Hotch has to offer me. My nails are raking down his back as another builds so quickly, my legs trembling and he’s picking up the pace, hips slamming into mine hard enough to bruise but it just adds to my heightened overstimulation. His every touch is like fire against my skin and his kisses are messy with lips crushing and teeth clashing but it’s perfect. I get lost in the heat of his body flush against mine, the smell of arousal and sweat heavy in the air and the salty taste as I reciprocate the hickeys all over his neck to try and stave off my second orgasm knowing I’m not going to last, knowing I’ll have to worry about the hickeys covering both of us later. 
Apparently it’s too much for Hotch as his hand that was holding my hand moves to lightly grip my throat, his breath hot against my shoulder as his thrusts get sloppy. He’s hitting that spongy spot every time and suddenly, without warning his hips are slamming into mine once more and I can feel him shoot thick rope after thick rope against my walls, filling me up. The feeling mixed with the pressure on my neck has my vision whiting out and I think I can hear myself almost screaming Hotch’s name as wave after wave of pleasure rolls over me and I think I pass out fro a moment or two. 
My eyes are fluttering open to Hotch stroking my hair, “There you are sweet girl,” he’s cooing, lips pressing sweet and gentle kisses to my skin, “I’ve got you, come back to me princess.” He’s gentle with every movement as he slowly pulls out, both of us wincing a little and I try to raise myself to my elbows but they give way almost immediately and he feels it as he’s chuckling, “Stay right there, let me grab our clothes. You can rest in the car.” 
Oh god, the case. I must look just as much of a mess as Aaron looks as he climbs off the bed. I can feel his seed leaking down my thighs and staining the sheets but I’m too spend and sated to care, groaning weakly when Hotch's hands are back on me, the fabric of a damp cloth wiping away as much of the mess as he can before his hands are guiding my legs into my panties and jeans. He’s then pulling me to my feet. Bad move as my legs are shaking so much they give way and he’s catching me, wrapping his arms around my waist as he buttons my jeans up with one hand. A sweet kiss is pressed to my neck as he sits me back onto the bed, in the spot that isn’t soiled before he’s fumbling around the room again then my bra is being put in place and clasped with ease. 
“I’m so proud of you princess.” Hotch praises, a soft sound leaving him when my thighs clench together involuntarily at the praise despite my body not being able to take another orgasm, wanting to snuggle into his strong and safe arms and sleep. But his famous Hotch jumper is being pulled over my head and I’m weakly pulling my arms through the sleeves as he cleans himself up and gets into a fresh pair of boxers and suit trousers.
My jaw drops when take a proper look at Hotch as he reaches into his bedside table to answer his phone that is buzzing again. He’s standing there, phone to ear, listening to who I’m guessing is Emily telling him off for not answering their frantic calls. I currently don’t care, unable to take my eyes off the hickeys of varying sizes and colours all over his neck and chest and the raised and raw scratch marks going down his back, some of them speckled with blood. It’s a mixture of embarrassment and pride that fills me, knowing that we’ve left physical marks on each other. 
“Yes Emily, I have Y/N. We’ll be there in twenty minutes. We’ll meet you at the jet.” With that Hotch hangs up, cognac eyes landing on me again and darkening slightly as he takes me in, my legs still shaking a little before he has to shake his head and find a suit shirt and jacket. 
We make it to the runway with three minutes to spare and the hickeys and marks still very visible as it was cover them and miss the jet or make it and ignore everyone’s comments. 
As we step into the cabin, the atmosphere shifts. Eyes dart towards me and Hotch, lingering on the conspicuous mark adorning both our necks and the fact I’m wearing Hotch’s jumper. Whispers flutter through the air like wayward butterflies, tinged with curiosity and amusement, as the team members look at the scene before them. 
Morgan’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he exchanges knowing glances at Emily who sighs and hands him some money as JJ attempts to stifle a giggle behind her hand across from them. Garcia, ever the theatrical, widens her eyes in exaggerated shock, her hand flying to her mouth in an ever so theatrical gesture of astonishment. 
Rossi, ever the observant one, arches one eyebrow in amusement, his lips quirking into a sly smile as he takes in the sight of us. His gaze holding a mixture of amusement and approval, silently acknowledging the feelings finally accepted between me and Hotch even if it was done in a very unprofessional way. 
The comments come in a flurry, a blend of teasing remarks and playful backer, laced with the underlying affection shared among the members of the team. Despite the teasing, there is an unmistakable sense of camaraderie, a bond forged through countless missions and shared experiences, that holds everyone together even in the most unconventional of moments.
Hotch presses a gentle kiss to the side of my head, moving his hand from the small of my back as I smack Morgan’s arm lightly, passing them all to fall into the seat next to my best friend - Spencer - who hasn’t said a word. I rest my head on his shoulder and smack his leg as I feel his shoulders moving with silent laughter, everyone going back to teasing me and Hotch as the case can wait until we get there. 
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