#the bags under his swollen eye
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everyryuujisuguro · 9 months ago
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macochism · 2 months ago
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wanna go to the gym men's room and find a quiet corner to strip off. sit on the bench, hide my lower half slight with my bag, and just finger myself, two, then three. i'd be dripping already but a couple of minutes of feeling that fear and it'd be all over the floor.
then i feel eyes on me, i look over and one of the regulars is there, watching, smirking. i slam my legs closed. "no, no. go on, i was enjoying the show" he says, and i fuckin gasp, feel myself clench around nothing. desperate.
so i do, look right at him as i spread my legs again, let him see my swollen wet cunt. i see him lick his lips, see him twitch under his towel, and i'm done for. push my fingers back in and close my eyes and let him watch. it doesn't take long until i'm so, so close, whining and moaning, shifting my hips, pretending my fingers are his cock. i'm right there.
but then he's in front of me, grabbing my wrist and pulling my fingers out, "i'm not done yet". the towel is gone now and he's hard and thick and dripping too.
he pushes me down, hard, to lie on the bench, lifts my legs up to my shoulders and without any warning just pushes his cock into my cunt. i moan so loud, clench around him. it hurts, he's too big, but i'm wet and begging and i need this.
he slams into my cervix, over and over and over, and i'm lost in the haze of it, tears dripping down my face, begging for him to stop, begging for him to never stop, begging for him to cum in me.
he starts going even harder, pushes my legs down further, growling above me, calling me the worst names, "slut, whore, cunt, bitch", and with one last deep push he fills me up. there's so much it drips out of me.
i float on that feeling, being full and used, and when he pulls out i feel destroyed, stretched out and dripping with cum and ruined.
he gets up, wipes himself off with his towel. he moves to the side. there's two more men behind him.
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hoshifighting · 3 months ago
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Nerd!Seungcheol
— Synopsis: After finding Nerdy!Seungcheol crying in the corner of the locker room because his girlfriend broke up with him to be with a jock after joining in the cheerleading team, you decide to help him and do everything he wished his ex-girlfriend had done. — WC: 6.6k — WARNINGS: smut, fluff, crack, some bickering—slight enemies2lovers plot, he cries, seungcheol is not a virgin (but his ex never gave him blowjob), mentions of alcohol (beer), mentions of glow-up, reader uses short dress and mentions short skirt, oral (f. & m. receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, cock riding, answering phone in the middle of the sex—voyeur?, hickeys, body fluids (cum) and cringey mentions of hands mimics (fingering/blowjob).
As you head to the dressing room to grab your things after your Friday lonely practice, the usual silence from the night is broken by a faint, muffled sound. You pause, listening intently. It’s a sniffling noise, followed by broken pants. Curiosity piqued, you follow the sound deeper into the lockers, your footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor.
Turning the corner, you find Seungcheol, huddled in a corner, hugging his knees to his chest. 
“Seungcheol? What are you doing here?” you ask, a smirk tugging at your lips. Teasing him is practically second nature to you.
His head snaps up, eyes wide and red-rimmed. “What do you want?” he snaps back, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.
You place a hand on your waist, raising an eyebrow. “I think the better question is, why are you in the women’s locker room?”
His eyes widen in realization. “Seriously?” he mutters, scrambling to his feet, the embarrassment clear on his tear-streaked face.
You roll your eyes and turn to leave. 
You wait just outside, leaning against the wall with your phone, scrolling through messages, pretending not to notice the state he’s in.
A few moments later, Seungcheol emerges, his face still blotchy from crying but now trying to pull himself together. He dries his tears on his sweatshirt, still hiccuping softly.
“Spill it,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “What happened?”
He hesitates, but he knows that on Monday, everyone will know about it. “Minji broke up with me,” he admits, his voice cracking. “She’s dating Jaehyun from the basketball team now.”
It’s a stereotype for a reason. “And you didn’t see that coming?”
Seungcheol’s face crumples again, and you immediately regret your harsh words.
But you can't help it! Jaehyun is the quintessential jock, the kind of guy who always ends up dating cheerleaders. It’s almost cliché.
Seungcheol nods continuing, looking down at his feet. “I knew she wanted more popularity, but I didn’t think she’d...”
“Look, Seungcheol, she’s not worth it if she’s willing to dump you for some jock just to boost her social status.” You shrug as you walk toward the hallway exit.
He looks up at you, eyes filled with confusion. “Why are you being nice to me?”
You shrug, slipping your phone into your bag. “I can’t let you mope around like this. It’s pathetic.”
He manages a weak smile at that. “Thanks, I guess.”
“Come on, let’s get out of here. I’ll walk you back to your dorm,” you say, starting to walk again.
You leave Seungcheol at his dorm, giving him a final glance. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you need to toughen up.” 
The weekend passes in a blur of volleyball practice and social events. You don’t see Seungcheol at all, not even a glimpse. Sunday night, you find yourself at a party, scanning the crowded room. There she is—Minji, with Jaehyun, surrounded by people. They look like the picture-perfect couple, a stark contrast to the image of Seungcheol crying in the women’s locker room just two nights ago.
After the party, you head to the convenience store near the university dorms to grab a late-night snack before heading to bed. As you wander down the ramen aisle, you almost bump into someone. You look up and see Seungcheol, his face so fucking swollen and hidden under a hood.
“What the fuck happened to your face?” you whisper, startled, clutching your snacks.
He scoffs, “What do you think? Been crying all weekend.”
You furrow your brows. “Seriously? You’ve been crying the whole time?”
“What do you think?” he repeats, more bitterly this time, grabbing a pack of ramen.
You both head to the cashier, the cashier glancing curiously at Seungcheol's disheveled appearance. As you walk towards the dorm buildings, it strikes you how funny you must look together—your party dress barely covering your ass, and his baggy 'I'm not going to see anyone I know' clothes.
“Man, if you’re going to show up looking like this tomorrow, you might as well ask to leave college for real,” you say, shaking your head.
He sighs, his voice weary. “I’m not going to drop out because of her.”
“Then stop crying,” you reply, exasperated.
He snaps at you, “What do you even know about it?”
You pause in your tracks and give him a hard stare. “While you were crying your eyes out all weekend, she was giving Jaehyun head in his car, like, minutes ago,” you say, your face contorting with disgust at the memory.
His eyes open wide. “She gave him head?! What a whore. She never even gave me a blowjob.” he mutters, more to himself than to you.
You raise an eyebrow, munching on your snack. “She never did? Seriously?”
He looks even more pissed, fists clenching at his sides. “I swear! And I always—never mind…” 
“Dude, you were crying over someone who’s not even worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “She’s obviously just using Jaehyun for popularity. She’s not worth your tears.”
He kicks a pebble on the sidewalk, the anger beaming off him. “I thought she loved me.” 
“Pfft! Clearly, she didn't,” you reply, shrugging. “She’s a social climber. She’ll do whatever it takes to get to the top.”
He looks at you, grabbing a handful of your snacks “You’re right. I’m done with her.” he mutters, chewing monstrously. Seungcheol frowns, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “How did you even know about that?”
“I was at the party,” you admit with a shrug.
He glances at you, taking in your outfit and the faint smell of feminine perfume mixed with alcohol. “Now it makes sense why you smell like that and why you’re dressed like this at 11 p.m. on a Sunday,” He glances down, taking in your party dress that’s riding high.
He recalls the moment in the convenience store when you bent down to grab some Takis from the bottom shelf, your ass almost completely exposed. He had glanced, unfortunately and quickly moved to stand behind you, rolling his eyes, blocking the cashier's view, who was wide-eyed and staring. 
“Man, I gotta tell you about all the crap I had to put up with.” he begins.
You listen attentively, craving some juicy gossip to cap off your weekend. He needed to vent, and you were going to end the day with some top-tier gossip. A win-win situation.
At his dorm, Seungcheol sits on his bed, and you are plopping down on the chair, eager to hear the tea.
“Can you believe she made me cancel our anniversary dinner because she wanted to go to some stupid party instead?” he says, shaking his head.
“No way!” you exclaim, licking Takis powder off your fingers, your eyes wide with interest.
He nods, exasperated. “Yeah, and she didn’t even tell me until the last minute. I had this whole thing planned, and she just ditched me.”
“Unbelievable,” you mutter, munching on another Takis. 
“And she always made me do her assignments. I spent countless nights writing essays for her while she was out partying.” 
“She did that?” you ask, genuinely shocked.
“Yep,” he sighs, moving restlessly on his bed. “And get this—she once made me wait for three hours outside her dorm because she was ‘getting ready.’ When she finally came out, she said she didn’t feel like going out anymore.”
“That’s insane!” you gasp, shaking your head in disbelief. “She’s the worst.”
“She really is,” he agrees. “And she never wanted to do anything I liked. It was always about her and what she wanted.”
You laugh, shaking your head. “That’s because you’re too nice, Seungcheol. If it were me, I’d have shown up the next day in a mini skirt like this—” You make a gesture with your fingers, indicating something tiny, “—just to rub it in her face.”
He snorts, amused by the thought. “Yeah, well, I guess it’s different for a guy.”
“Maybe,” you reply, pausing as an idea strikes you. “Wait, do you have contact lenses? Or maybe a clipper?”
He looks confused. “What? Why?”
You step closer, gently moving his hair out of his forehead. “Because if you’re going to move on, you need a new look. Let’s start with this mess of hair.” 
He looks at you, confused. “You really think that’ll help?”
“Bro, trust me,” you say, determined. 
You walk around his room, rummaging through his things, looking for the clipper. Seungcheol sits on his bed, looking at you… Nervously. 
As you plug in the clipper, the buzzing sound fills the room. Seungcheol’s eyes widen in alarm. “You’re not going to make me bald, are you?”
You smirk, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t you remember who did the girls’ undercuts below their ponytails for last semester's game?”
His eyes light up in recognition. “That was you?”
You walk back smugly, opening your arms. “Yep, that was all me.”
As you begin cutting his hair, he starts talking again. “You know, she once told me that my glasses made me look like a nerd, and she hated it when I wore them in public.”
You roll your eyes. “Ya! That’s ridiculous. Your glasses suit you. But we can always get you contacts if you want a change.”
You skillfully give him an undercut, trimming his hair and revealing a fresh look. He looks at himself in the mirror, his forehead and thick eyebrows finally getting the attention they deserve. You help him with the contacts, and before you leave his dorm, you give him a final piece of advice.
“No sweaters,” you say firmly.
The next day, as you finish getting ready in your dorm, you hear a knock on the door. Opening it, you find Seungcheol standing there, looking surprisingly handsome in his new look.
“Look at you!” you exclaim, giving him a knowing smile and nodding for him to enter. As you finish getting ready, you ask, “What are you doing here?”
He shuffles his feet, looking a bit shy. “I don’t know, just felt weird going alone.” “You look healthy,” he says, his eyes taking in your appearance.
“Yeah, I took a bath,” you reply, deadpan. “You should try it sometime.”
He chuckles, the nervousness fading a bit. 
Together, you head towards the university building. As you walk beside him, you notice people glancing at him, some even doing double-takes. You stand proudly, shoulders squared, almost waving like a beauty queen.
As you and Seungcheol make your way down the hallway, you spot Minji in the middle of the corridor, surrounded by a group of people. Your eyes dart between her, Seungcheol, and Jaehyun, and you think to yourself that this moment is straight out of a movie. You almost wish you had popcorn to complete the scene.
You and Seungcheol walk closer, and you can see Minji's eyes light up as she spots him. She opens her mouth, probably ready to deliver some dramatic line or apology. 
But Seungcheol, simply ignores her and doesn’t give her the satisfaction of a glance. His chest puffed out slightly.
You take a fine distance from them, your jaw practically dropping in disbelief. “I can’t believe you actually did that, did you really just ignore her?” you ask, laughing.
Despite his impressive new look, Seungcheol didn’t end up mingling with the jock crowd as you might have expected. 
Instead, during recess, you spotted him from afar, sitting with his book club friends. The contrast was cute—here he was, looking like he could easily fit in with the jocks, but he chose to hang out with his old crew, surrounded by books and enthusiastic chat. He stayed true to his roots, hanging out with the people who truly mattered to him
He had the whole package—stylish haircut, fresh look, and yet, he was still the same Seungcheol. Still maintaining his original traits and habits.
The bell rings, signaling the end of classes, and you head towards the dorms, looking forward to a bit of downtime. Suddenly, you hear someone calling after you.
“Hey! Wait up!”
You turn to see Seungcheol jogging towards you, his new look making him stand out even more than before. He’s out of breath but manages a grin. “How can I show my appreciation for what you did?”
You wave him off with a smile. “You don’t need to do anything.”
He pouts, looking genuinely disappointed. “Come on, please!”
You roll your eyes, teasingly. “Calm down, nerd! Hmm, maybe just a beer or something?”
His face brightens at the suggestion. “Beer? That sounds perfect!”
You chuckle, shaking your head as you both start walking together.
As you and Seungcheol sit at a small corner table in the campus bar, nursing your beers, he takes a swig and shakes his head in disbelief.
“I can’t believe I’m drinking on a Monday,” he says, looking at his beer as if it might somehow magically make the week less mundane.
You laugh, leaning back in your chair. “Sometimes it feels like drinking just becomes a part of the routine. It’s like college fucks you up so much that you need these little escapes to keep your sanity.”
Seungcheol nods in agreement, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Yeah, it’s kind of messed up how we end up just normalizing this stuff.”
You both sip in comfortable silence for a moment before he glances at his phone, scrolling through a chat. “Oh, hey, look at this,” he says.
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”
He shows you a photo on his phone. It’s from the party you were at on Sunday—Minji inside Jaehyun’s car, Minji’s head is down, clearly giving him a blowjob, and Jaehyun’s face is smug. Your face scrunches up in disgust as you look at it.
“Ugh, yeah, that’s what I saw,” you say, cringing. “I didn’t want to think about it again.”
Seungcheol sighs heavily. “It’s just... seeing that, after everything that happened, it’s like she’s moved on and I’m left here...”
You take a deep breath, considering his frustration. “Yeah, I get it. It’s a shitty situation.”
He looks at you. “You know, I never really got why she never... I mean, she never did that for me. Not that I’m complaining or anything.”
You blink, taken aback by his confession. “She has never given you a blowjob? You were serious then?”
Seungcheol nods, his cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, and now seeing her do it for Jaehyun... it just feels like a slap in the face.”
You sip your beer, thinking it over. The whole situation has him worked up, and you can’t help but feel a bit sympathetic. 
“Damn, that’s rough. I can see why you’d be so pissed.”
“it’s like, she was so willing to do it with Jaehyun, but never with me,” he says, clearly frustrated.
“Well, now you know,” you say, a bit smugly. “She was obviously saving that for Jaehyun.”
He looks down at his beer, indeed annoyed. “Yeah, she was a piece of work. I guess I should have seen it coming.”
“Well, we could always find a way to have some fun and blow off steam. I’m sure there’s a way to make you forget about Minji’s bullshit.”
Seungcheol’s eyes narrow with curiosity. “Like what?”
“I’m sure we could figure something out. Maybe even something you’ve been wanting for a while.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh really? And what’s that?”
You lean in even closer, your voice barely a whisper. “Let’s just say, I know a thing or two about making someone forget their ex and feel a lot better. Are you interested?”
You smirk, is he acting, or he's that bad at catching hints?
He looks at you, catching the hint. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
You grin, leaning in a bit closer. “Depends on what you think I’m saying.”
He blushes slightly, his eyes meeting yours. “Careful, Y/N. You’re making it sound like you’re fishing for something specific.”
“Maybe I am. Just putting it out there.” you shrug.
“Are you serious? Stop playin' with me.”
“I'm dead serious.”
He looks at you, contemplating the offer. “You know what? Let’s do it.”
You can't quite pinpoint if it's the alcohol working its magic, loosening up inhibitions, or if it’s just the chemistry between you and Seungcheol, but his attempts at flirting are hitting all the right notes. There’s a certain charm to the way he’s leaning closer, trying to gauge your reactions with every word he says.
He takes a sip of his beer, his eyes meeting yours. “You know,” he starts, his voice a bit slurred, “I’ve always admired how you can just say whatever you want.”
You laugh softly, leaning in to match his tone. “Oh really? And what else do you admire?”
He smiles, his cheeks slightly flushed. “Well, for starters, your confidence. And the way you’re not afraid to call me out. It’s actually pretty sexy.”
The alcohol seems to be giving him a boldness you’ve never seen before. He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face a bit clumsy.
“You’re drunk,” you tease, though you can’t deny the flutter of excitement his touch brings.
“Maybe,” he admits, his gaze lingering on your lips. “But I’m not too drunk to know when something feels right.”
“Seungcheol,” you say softly, trying to keep things light but feeling a pull towards him, “are you sure you want to go down this road?”
He nods, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”
[...]
The scent of your dorm—so unmistakably you—fills Seungcheol's senses, making him harder than ever. As he stands before you, your naked form on your knees, your hand between your legs touching your throbbing clit, and the sight of you looking up at him with hunger in your eyes, it’s enough to make his head spin.
You stroke his cock with one hand, licking your lips like you’re about to devour him. 
His cheeks are flushed, maybe from the alcohol, maybe from the very embarrassment of the situation. He bites his bottom lip, eyes wide with anticipation, his cock starting to ache with need. The handjob you’re giving him is good, but it’s not nearly enough.
“Fuck, you’re so hard,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust. You can feel his cock twitching in your hand, the head sticky with precum.
He lets out a shaky breath, his eyes glued to the sight of your hand moving up and down his shaft. 
You lean in, your tongue flicking out to taste the precum at the tip of his cock. The salty, slightly bitter taste coats your tongue, and you hum appreciatively, savoring the flavor. Seungcheol's breath hitches, his hips jerking forward involuntarily.
“Oh, fuck!” he groans, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.
You smile up at him, loving his reaction. You want this to be memorable, to engrave this moment into his mind permanently. You give the head of his cock a few teasing licks before enveloping your lips around it. 
“Holy shit, Y/N!” he groans, his voice ragged. As you slide your mouth further down, taking him deeper, his body curls inward, every muscle tensing. It’s like you’re sucking every ounce of energy from him, and he can barely stand it. Your mouth is so wet, so warm, and you look so devoted, so gorgeous.
You look up at him through your lashes, seeing the absolute ecstasy on his face. You’re dedicated, giving all of yourself to make this perfect for him. You bob your head, sucking him deeper, your cheeks hollowing with the effort. Your tongue works along his length, swirling around the tip before you take him in again.
Seungcheol’s efforts to hold back his moans crumble. “Fuck, Y/N, that feels so good,” he whimpers, his voice loaded with desperation. He grips your hair, not to control but to anchor himself, as his arms on the bed threaten to give out.
You hum around his cock, the vibrations making him shudder. You suck harder, your hand stroking the base of his shaft in beat with your mouth. You can feel him throbbing against your tongue, his neediness evident in every spasm and moan.
His moans become louder, more ragged, filling the room. The sound of his pleasure fuels your horniness, and you touch yourself more frantically, your fingers rubbing your clit in time with the movements of your mouth. You’re giving him everything, and you love the way he’s falling apart above you.
“Y/N, I’m so close,” he chokes out whiny. “I can’t… I can’t hold it…”
You look up at him, and suck him even harder, your mouth sliding up and down his length faster. You want to push him over the edge, to give him the orgasm he so desperately needs. Your hand strokes his shaft with more speed, your mouth working tirelessly.
You can't believe that Minji never gave Seungcheol a blowjob. Just the sight of his cock is almost enough to make you cum. With your hand still slick from touching yourself, you grab the base of his shaft and take him as deep as you can, sinking him down your throat. 
You hold him there for some seconds, feeling the tears from your gag reflex forming. When you pull back, you see him nearly losing his balance.
Determined to make this unforgettable, you’re willing to suck his very soul out if it means you get to see his face as he cums and hear those incredible moans from him.
Seungcheol’s body tenses, his muscles locking up as the pleasure becomes too much to bear. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cries out.
Seungcheol’s entire body convulses, his hips jerking uncontrollably as you milk every drop from him. His eyes roll back, and he lets out a guttural moan, the sound of someone utterly lost in pleasure. You keep sucking him gently, drawing out his orgasm, until he’s left trembling and spent.
When you finally release him, Seungcheol collapses onto the bed, needing to lay down to recover. 
You laugh softly, brushing your fingers through his hair, feeling a rush of pride at the look of utter bliss on his face. His eyes flutter open, and he smiles so wide it makes your heart swell.
He sits up slightly, his hand wrapping around your throat. He grips you gently, his thumb brushing over your skin. You’re caught off guard when he leans in, not giving you just a peck, but sliding his tongue into your mouth. You thought he might find it weird after cumming in your mouth, but he does it without hesitation, moaning at the taste.
You can feel your pussy immediately dripping onto the sheets. His kiss is hungry, filled with gratitude and lingering fascination, and you kiss him back just as fervently, your hands tangling in his hair.
When you finally pull away, you both are breathing heavily.
“Damn, Y/N,” he bites his bottom lip. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else.”
Seungcheol's eyes roam over your body, and you can see the determination in his gaze. He wants to pay you back, to show you what he can do. Gently, he lifts you onto the bed, laying you down. He positions himself between your legs, his stomach pressed against the mattress. You hear him hiss slightly as his sensitive dick makes contact with the sheets, but his focus remains on you.
“I’ve been studying up on this, Y/N,” he says with a proud smile, like he’s presenting a perfect exam result. “Time to show you what I’ve learned.”
He starts by kissing your inner thighs, his lips soft and teasing against your skin. You shiver, your breath hitching in tension. When his mouth finally reaches your pussy, he doesn't hesitate. His tongue darts out, tasting you for the first time, and he lets out a low, appreciative hum.
“You taste so good,” he says, almost to himself, before diving in.
He licks a long, slow stripe up your slit, his tongue parting your folds and flicking over your clit. You moan, your hips twitching involuntarily. Seungcheol’s hands grip your thighs, holding you firmly in place as he starts to work his tongue with more ambition.
His tongue encircles your clit, teasing and tormenting, before he sucks it into his mouth, creating a delicious pressure that makes you gasp. He alternates between sucking and licking, his mouth hot and insistent. 
You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, mingling with your moans, and it’s driving you even more soaked.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, that feels so good,” you moan, your fingers tangling in his hair, urging him on. “You’re so good at this, nerd.” you smile looking at him.
He looks up at you eyes light up at the praise. “You like that?” he asks, his voice muffled against your pussy.
“Yes, yes, don’t stop,” you plead.
He continues to be concentrated on you, his eyes sharp and focused, studying every reaction. His tongue flicks over your clit, and your hips buck against his mouth. He smiles against you, clearly pleased with your response.
Seungcheol grins and shifts slightly, bringing his fingers into play. He teases your entrance with one finger before slowly pushing it inside you, curling it just right to hit that sweet spot—finding it embarrassingly fast. You shout, your back arching off the bed.
“Fuck, Seungcheol, just like that,” you pant, your hips grinding against his face.
He adds a second finger, pumping them in and out of you while his mouth continues its assault on your clit. The combination is mind-blowing, and you can feel yourself hurtling towards the edge. His fingers twist and curl inside you, like they're calling you, pressing against your sweet spot, and your moans become louder, more desperate.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs.. “I can feel you clenching around my fingers.”
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, your thighs squeezing around his head. 
You feel a bit guilty for trapping him like this, but Seungcheol looks delighted, his thick eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he reads every reaction from your body.
He flicks his tongue over your clit in a rapid, persistent move, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of you, combined with the slick noises from his mouth, are almost obscene, but they only heighten your arousal.
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you gasp, your voice breaking. “Don’t stop, Seungcheol, please.”
He doesn’t let up, his tongue and fingers working you with a preciseness that makes your head spin. You can feel the pleasure coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, ready to snap.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m cumming!” you cry out, your body shuddering violently as the orgasm rips through you.
Seungcheol keeps going, drawing out your orgasm, his fingers curling and his tongue flicking relentlessly. Your moans are loud and broken, your hips grinding against his face as you moan vulgarly, your chest rising as you soak his mouth and face. 
Your body convulses, your thighs squeezing him even tighter, and you scream his name, your voice echoing in the room. He continues to lick and finger you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you’re left shaking and breathless.
Finally, he pulls back, his face shining with your arousal, a pleased smile on his lips. “How was that?”
Your body is still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm, and all you can manage is a breathless moan, your hands smudging your face as you try to collect yourself. Seungcheol laughs softly at your reaction.
“I don’t know if I can ride you right now,” you admit, your voice shaking. “I’m still trembling.”
He smirks, a naughty glint in his eyes. “Who said anything about you riding me? I can fuck you just as good, just lay back and let me take care of you.”
The promise in his words makes you clench, and you nod, eager to feel him inside you. He positions himself between your legs, his cock hard and ready. As he lines himself up with your entrance, you can’t help but gasp at the sight of his size.
When he finally pushes inside you, the stretch is both breathless and blissful. His cock fills you completely, the sensation intensified by how wet you are. Your body welcomes him, and he slides in easily, the friction making you moan loudly.
“Oh god, Seungcheol, just like that!” you breathe out, your hands gripping his shoulders.
He lowers his head, his lips brushing against your neck as he begins to move. His kisses are surprisingly sweet for the roughness of his thrusts, and you find the contrast and incredibly hot.
Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he moans, his thrusts becoming more urgent. The bed creaks beneath you, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. Your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing more and more.
“Fuck me like you mean it.” you grit through your teeth. 
Seungcheol’s eyes blacken, and he grips your hips, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper. You cry out, your head falling back against the pillow, your body jiggling with each strong movement.
 “I’m not stopping until you’re screaming my name,” he promises, and you know he means it.
His thrusts become relentless, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you, your eyes watering. Your moans turn into cries, your mind going blank with pleasure. You can feel your orgasm approaching, and you cling to him, needing him closer.
“Seungcheol, I’m gonna—”
The sudden sound of Seungcheol’s phone ringing startles both of you. “Fuck... no,” he mutters, pulling out of you reluctantly. You almost swallow a sob, your orgasm fading away.
"Answer it," you tell him, your voice steady despite your frustration.
He looks at the caller ID, his face contorting in disgust. "Minji," he says, showing the screen to you. You wave your hand, signaling for him to answer. He does, putting the call on speaker. The fact that he's not hiding it, that he wants you to hear, that he doesn't have a problem with it, is unexpectedly hot.
“Seungcheol?” You roll your eyes at her voice.
“Yeah?” he replies, his tone short and uninterested.
“I... I wanted to talk. Can we meet up?” she asks, her voice faltering.
You sit up silently, your mind racing. Seungcheol answers her shortly, clearly wanting to hang up. As he talks, you get an idea. You crawl over to him, your eyes locked on his as you straddle his lap, your breasts pressing against his face. 
He looks up at you, confused.
“What are you doing?” he whispers, his breath hitching.
“Seungcheol, are you listening to me?” Minji’s voice is impatient, and he can't answer.
You just smile, grabbing his cock and sliding it back inside you as his face contorts in silence, jaw slack as he looks inside your eyes. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as you begin to move, slowly at first, then faster, circling your hips around him.
“Seungcheol? Are you there?” She asks, sounding more desperate now.
He tries to answer, but you start moving, slowly at first, then picking up the pace.
“Yeah, I’m here,” he replies, his voice strained. He places a hand on your hip, trying to steady you as you ride him.
“What are you doing?” her voice cuts through the tension, suspicion clear.
You moan slyly, loudly, not even needing to force it. “Oh, Seungcheol,” you purr, the sound sending a cold lick down his spine. He can't help but moan too, his resolve breaking.
Minji’s voice rises in panic. “Seungcheol, what’s going on? Who’s there with you?”
He can’t help but moan too, gripping your hips tighter. “Don’t talk to me anymore, Minji,” he says, his voice strained with pleasure.
“What the hell is happening? Who is that?!” She's furious.
Seungcheol’s hands grip your hips, his body shuddering with each thrust. “Y/N... I can’t...”
“Just a little more,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his neck. “Let her hear how good I make you feel.”
He groans, unable to hold back any longer. “Minji, I’m fucking done with you,” he says, his voice shaking. “Don’t call me again!”
You moan again, louder this time, and Seungcheol echoes your sound, his head falling back. 
The call disconnects abruptly, but you don’t stop. 
You ride him harder, feeling him throb inside you, his body tensing as he reaches his peak.
“Y/N, I’m gonna—” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss, swallowing his moans as he comes, his release sending you over the edge as well.
Seungcheol throws the phone aside with a decisive flick of his wrist, his focus entirely on you now—not that he stopped, his mind was imploring for you every second. 
He grips your hips firmly, handling you on his lap with a possessive, almost primal passion, like you’re a fucking doll. The strength of his arms moving you on his lap, makes you gasp, and you abruptly pull away from the kiss, your hand flying to your mouth in a futile attempt to suppress your scream.
It doesn’t work. 
The sound that escapes you is raw and unfiltered—a high-pitched scream that echoes off the walls of the dorm room. You’re cumming all over his cock, your cum spilling over onto his balls and pelvis, the wetness spreading in a deliciously messy explosion.
Seungcheol’s grip tightens, his breathing ragged as he feels the lock of your orgasm. He’s fighting his own demons to keep his eyes open, the pleasure so harsh that it’s almost too much to endure. His eyes are locked on yours, and you see the struggle written all over his face.
“Fuck, Y/N,” he groans, his voice wasted with overstimulation. His moves become more desperate, desperate to feel every inch of you.
Your body shakes uncontrollably, every muscle tensed as you fight to keep your eyes open, to stay grounded in the moment. You feel the room spinning, the pleasure so intense that it’s almost blinding. Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you struggle to stay upright.
You collapse against Seungcheol. He pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around you with a protective, almost desperate grip. Despite his own wavering strength, his desire to hold and shield you is real, overshadowing any fatigue he might be feeling.
With the last of your strength, you gently pull his cock out of you, your movements sluggish. You remain close, still wrapped around him, feeling the warmth and softness of his body against yours. The sensation of his cock slipping free leaves a trail of dampness between you, your orgasms dripping onto his pelvis and the sheets beneath you.
Seungcheol shudders as he feels the wetness spreading across his skin. The soaked feeling on his pelvis, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, makes him groan softly. His hands are still firmly clasped around you, his chest rising and falling with each breath.
“Fuck,” he mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we just did that while Minji was on the phone.”
You chuckle softly, your exhaustion making your laugh feel weak but genuine. 
Seungcheol lets out a rueful laugh. “I was trying so hard to keep it together while she was talking, and here you are, riding me like there’s no tomorrow.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “So, what did she hear exactly? Did she get the full experience or just a taste?”
Seungcheol grins, his cheeks flushing a bit. “Oh, she heard more than a taste. I was trying to get her off the line quickly, but with you going at it like that, I think she caught on pretty fast. She definitely knew something was up.”
“And now she’s probably going to think you’re a total jerk for just hanging up on her like that.”
“To be honest, I was so caught up in how good you were making me feel that I couldn’t even process what she was saying. All I could think about was you.”
The next morning is a whirlwind of frantic activity and poorly disguised attempts to cover up the previous night's larks. As you glance in the mirror, you notice the indicative signs of sex: red, blossoming hickeys on your neck that stubbornly refuse to be concealed. You grab your concealer and try your best to dab and blend, but the more you work, the more obvious it seems.
Seungcheol, on the other hand, is in an equally frantic state. He’s darting around his dorm room, desperately scrubbing away any remaining proof of the night before. He’s juggling a toothbrush in his mouth while trying to hide the hickeys with his hoodie. He eventually settles on a high-collared shirt that looks formal and slightly out of place for a morning class, but it gets the job done.
You rush out of your dorm, barely managing to grab your things before heading to your first class. The entire way there, you catch glimpses of yourself in shop windows and mirrors, each time cringing at how you might still look too happy, too satisfied.
Seungcheol is nearly out of breath by the time he arrives at the hallways, his face flushed—not entirely from exertion, you suspect.
“Did you manage to get rid of all the hickeys?” Seungcheol whispers walking on your side suddenly, as he tries to adjust his collar without drawing too much attention.
“Not even close,” you reply with a wry smile. “I’m basically wearing a turtleneck now, but it’s not foolproof.”
He laughs, a bit too loudly given the circumstances. “Well, at least we look like we’re going somewhere fancy. If anyone asks, just say it’s a new fashion statement.”
You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t think that’s going to work. I’m just hoping people don’t look too closely.”
As you both ascend the stairs to your respective classes, the early morning hustle is almost forgotten when Seungcheol suddenly grabs your wrist, his eyes darting around to ensure no one is watching. 
The empty stairwell is the perfect backdrop for his next move.
Before you can react, Seungcheol leans in and steals a quick, tender peck from your lips. The unexpected kiss surprises you, and a smile instantly lights up your face. You respond with another, slightly longer kiss.
You pull back slightly, looking at him with a playful glint in your eye. “So, what about tonight?” you ask slyly.
Seungcheol’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Huh?”
You make a theatrical gesture with your hand, tracing a path up and down to your cheek, poking your cheek with your tongue, mimicking the motion of sucking him off. Your naughty movement is clear and provocative.  
Seungcheol's face flushes instantly, his eyes widening as he processes your meaning.
He bites his lip, his eyes locking onto yours with a glint of playful defiance. With a teasing smirk, he lifts his middle fingers, licking them exaggeratedly before curling them inward, making the motion unmistakably obscene.
“Something like this?” he asks, his voice sultry, his eyes never leaving yours. “Think you can handle it tonight?”
You can't help but be taken aback by Seungcheol's bold gesture, your jaw falling slack in surprise. 
“Meet me at the storage room,” you murmur, urgent. “You’re going to finger me there.”
Seungcheol’s eyes widen. “The storage room?” he repeats, his voice a quiet, thrilled whisper, his breath catching slightly.
He thinks then gives you a quick, eager nod, the hint of a smile playing at his lips.
“Sure thing,” he continues. “Can’t wait.”
A birthday one-shot to my cutie pie hahaha 29 years old—I'm crying n'shit. 😭🥺❤️
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taeghi · 4 months ago
Text
sweet n sour
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sunghoon's in bad shape after a match... if only there was a way to make him feel better.
PAIRING : boxer!sunghoon x worried gf!reader
GENRE: smut, slight fluff & angst. oral, unprotected sex!!, praise, just some soft sex tbh oh and a breeding kink
WC : 4k
mdni
you lie on the couch, the glow of the tv casting shadows across the empty room. it’s so late, past 1am, and the apartment feels more yours than ever, even though its meant to be shared. your eyes are heavy, threatening to close, but you force them open. you want to greet him when he comes home. 
the silence is loud, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the building settling. you try to focus on the show playing, but your mind drifts, thinking of him and sleep. he always tells you not to wait up for him, to go to bed, but you can’t help it. anxiety, worry and pure love for him keep you here, wide awake on the couch, fighting sleep. 
you shift on the couch, pulling the blanket tighter around you. the cushions feel cold, a stark contrast to the warmth you remember when he used to sit beside you. you glance at the clock again, the minutes ticking by slower than ever. 
you fight sleep, but your eyes grow heavier with each passing moment. the tv’s flicker becomes a blur, and your mind drifts, lulled by exhaustion. you don’t realize that you begin to succumb to sleep. 
an hour later a faint noise jolts you awake again. your heart races as you sit up, disoriented and tense. 
the living room is still dark besides the tv light. you strain your ears, and then you hear it– a rustling sound, followed by the faint hum of water running in the bathroom. your eyes dart to the front door, where his gym bag sits slumped against the wall. relief washes over you and you exhale slowly. 
he’s home. 
you rise from the couch, your body protesting the sudden movement. padding quietly across the room, you reach the bathroom door. the sound of the water is louder now, a steady stream of water hitting porcelain. you hesitate for a moment, your hand hovering above the door. 
knocking gently you call out, “babe, it’s me.” 
there’s a pause, then the water stops. his voice, cold and distant, cuts through the silence. 
“i told you not to wait up. go back to sleep.” 
his words sting but you know he’s not trying to hurt you. “i know, i was just worried and wanted to see you.” 
“‘m fine. go to sleep.” 
the finality in his tone makes your chest tighten. you stand there, fingers brushing the doorframe, fighting the urge to whimper. “can i get a hug before i go to sleep, then?” 
silence stretches between you. you think he’s ignoring you, and the ache in your heart deepens. but then, the door creaks open and you gasp as you look at him. 
there, sunghoon, your boyfriend, stands. his clothes are still on, but his face is covered in bruises and dried blood. his one eye is swollen, a cut is splitting his lip. you’ve seen him beat up before, but this is the worst you have ever seen him. your heart breaks, and you reach out instinctively, but he turns his face away, avoiding your touch. 
“please,” he mutters, voice strained. “just go to bed.”
you linger for a moment, wanting to say more, do more for the man that you love. 
“no,” you say firmly, guiding him to sit on the toilet. the bathroom feels heavy. “i’m going to take care of you, or your wounds will get infected.” 
sunghoon doesn’t argue. he sits, silent and resigned, his shoulders up high even though he is in physical and emotional pain. you can see the struggle in his eyes, the way he battles with himself. he should be the one protecting you, providing for you, but right now, he can’t even look at you. his swollen eye is an excuse, but deep down, you know it’s more than that. 
you grab the first aid kit from under the sink, your hands trembling slightly as you pull out antiseptic and gauze. the air between you is thick with tension, an unspoken sorrow that hangs over everything. you kneel in front of him, carefully dabbing at the dried blood on his face.
“can you not clean me up with that look on your face?” he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper.
“what look?” you ask, your eyes meeting his briefly before returning to your task.
“like you’re about to cry,” he says, a hint of a smile playing on his bruised lips.
you pause, swallowing hard. “i can’t help it. you look like you’ve been through hell.”
sunghoon shakes his head, wincing at the movement. “i just hate that you have to do this.”
“what, play nurse?” you tease lightly, trying to lift the mood.
“no,” he replies, his voice turning serious. “see me like this. feel like you have to take care of me.”
“sunghoon,” you say, your tone soft but firm, “we’re in love. you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat.”
“yeah,” he mutters, looking away. “but i’m supposed to be the strong one.”
you stop, cupping his face gently, forcing him to look at you. “you are strong. but it’s okay to let someone else be strong for you sometimes. it doesn’t make you weak.”
he closes his eyes, leaning into your touch. “i just don’t want you to worry.”
“too late for that,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his forehead. “i’m always going to worry about you. because i love you.”
he opens his eyes, finally meeting yours. there’s a vulnerability there that you rarely see, and it makes your heart ache. “i love you too,” he says quietly. “more than anything.”
you smile, your eyes misting up. “then let me take care of you. let me love you.”
he nods, and you can see the walls he’s built around himself start to crumble. “okay,” he whispers. “okay.”
you continue to clean his wounds, the silence between you no longer heavy but comforting. the bathroom feels less oppressive, the darkness not as daunting. you’re here, together, and that’s what matters. as you finish bandaging his knuckles, you press another kiss to his skin, out of habit.
“thank you,” he says, his voice barely audible.
you move to brush his hair off of his sweaty forehead and cringe when you notice the dried blood in his hair. “you should get in the shower,” you whisper, your voice barely holding steady. 
he looks at you, eyes filled with a mix of pain and vulnerability. "can you get in with me? help me wash my hair?"
your heart aches for him, seeing him like this, so raw and exposed. "yes," you say softly, because he’s in pain and you’d do anything to ease it.
he stands slowly, every movement measured and cautious. you help him strip off his clothes, the sight of his bruised and battered body that you love, making you wince. the bathroom feels smaller. you turn on the water, letting it warm up, the steam rising and filling the room with a humid embrace.
you undress together. his muscles flexing as he strips. he bare body makes you wanna drool. it's so smooth and soft and you can't help but wonder how he is yours.
"you're so fucking beautiful," he says as he steps towards you. you wonder if he knows you were thinking the same about him. his eyes scanning your face and bare body. he runs his hand up your thigh, his touch making you shiver, "all mine."
you step into the shower with him, guiding him under the spray. he tilts his head back, water cascading over his face, washing away the blood and grime. you reach for the shampoo, lathering it in your hands before gently massaging it into his hair. your fingers work through the tangles, careful and deliberate.
he closes his eyes, a sigh escaping his lips. "thank you," he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the sound of the water.
"always," you reply, your own voice soft. you rinse the soap from his hair, the water turning pink as it swirls down the drain. you repeat the process, ensuring every trace of blood is gone, every wound cleaned.
his hands rest on your bare hips, a grounding touch that steadies you both. "i don’t deserve you," he says, the words heavy with regret.
"you do," you counter, your tone firm. "we deserve each other."
he opens his eyes, looking at you with such intensity that it steals your breath. "i’m scared," he admits, his voice breaking. "scared of losing you."
because sunghoon knows that he should be home more. that he shouldn't spend so much time at the gym. that he shouldn't be allowing himself to enter match, after match, after match because you'll be home waiting up for him (even if he tells you don't).
"you won’t," you promise, wrapping your arms around him, holding him close. “i’m scared of losing you. like you won’t come home one day.” 
sunghoon dryly laughs into your wet hair, “i’m not gonna die, y/n. i’ll always come home to you.” 
you smile up at him with his promise. you lean up on your toes to press your lips gently onto his cut ones. your hands glide over his firm chest and stomach, gently caressing his skin. he hums in appreciation, his hands equally as gentle as he glides his hands down your bare back. 
leaning more into his touch, your hands roam lower, teasing the crease where his thigh meets his groin. 
sunghoon notices your wandering hands and a lazy smirk crosses his face as he looks down at you in the shower, “what’re you up to?” 
you pout up at him, your chin resting on his chest, “wanna take care of you.” 
sunghoon brushes your wet hair out of your face, “then do it.”
the warm water runs down your bodies as you reach for his cock, already hard at the sight of your naked body and your touch. you take it in your hand, stroking it gently before running your tongue along the length of his shaft. 
sunghoon groans, his hands reaching up to grip the shower handle as you take the tip of his dick in your mouth, sucking gently. you look up at him through your lashes, enjoying the pleasure written over his face. his eyes are closed, his head thrown back as he loses himself in the pleasure you’re providing. 
“oh fuck, y/n,” he moans out, his voice mixing with the sound of the water hitting the tub, “i love your mouth so much.” his hips buck slightly into your mouth. 
you take more of him into your mouth, relaxing your throat to accommodate his girth. your hands cup his balls, massaging them gently as you continue to suck and lick his shaft. you can taste the precum leaking from the tip and you moan softly, vibrating his cock with the sound. sunghoon’s hands tangle in your hair, guiding you along his length as he thrusts gently into your mouth. 
“that’s it baby, take it nice and slow,” sunghoon urges you, his breath coming in low gasps as you begin to bob your head, hollowing your cheeks as you such. “you’re mouth feels os fucking good.”
the water streams down your bodies as you continue to blow him, the warmth creating a steamy, intimate atmosphere. you moan softly, the sound vibrating along his length, making sunghoon groan and tighten his grip on your hair. his hips thrust gently, meeting your mouth as you take him deeper, your lips gliding over sensitive flesh. 
“you’re doing so good, princess,” sunghoon praises, his voice hoarse with need. “you’re such a good girl for me, taking care of me so well.” he leans his back against the shower wall, one hand bracing himself as you pick up the pace, sliding your mouth up and down his hard cock. 
your one hand caresses his balls, rolling them gently between your fingers while your other hand strokes the abe of his cock, twisting gently as the root. sunghoon’s breath catches, and he curses, his hips start to stutter as you press and roll your fingers just right. 
“fuck, baby,” he curses his breathing becoming ragged, “you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that.” 
you hum in response, taking him as deep as you can, your nose bruised in his abdomen. your tongue swirls and flicks, tasting every inch of your boyfriend. 
sunghoon’s muscles tense and he throws his head back, a strangled cry escaping his throat a she floods your mouth with his hot sticky cum. you swallow greedily, moaning with satisfaction as his taste exploses on your tongue. you milk him with your mouth and hands, drawing out his orgasm until he’s too sensitive for further stimulation, gently pulling away with a soft, wet, satisfied smile. 
“fuck baby that was so good,” he breathes, hauling you to your feet for a passionate kiss, tasting himself on your lips. “i love you,” 
you smile against his lips, “i love you, too.” 
“let me take care of you, now.” 
sunghoon turns off the water and you both step out. steam swirls around you both, wrapping you in humidity. you reach for a towel, your hands gently drape it over sunghoon’s shoulders. 
he stands there, droplets of water tracing paths down his bruised skin. you move with care, blotting away the moisture, your touch feather-light. the towel soaks up the water, but the tension in the air remains heavy and thick.
you let your eyes wander over his smooth, pale skin. months and months of hard work that he put in to get so muscular. you feel your mouth salivate as each movement of his makes his muscles tense.
sunghoon watches you, his eyes following your movements. he doesn’t say anything, but the gratitude in his gaze speaks volumes. you dry his hair, your fingers threading through the damp strands, untangling the knots gently. he leans into your touch, his body relaxing under your care.
when you’re done, he takes the towel from your hands and wraps it around you, his touch equally gentle. his hands move slowly, methodically, as if memorizing every inch of your skin. you close your eyes, savoring the warmth of the towel and the intimacy of the moment. his fingers brush against your arms, your shoulders, leaving a trail of need in their wake.
when both of your bodies are dry, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, a kiss that’s more about reassurance than passion. he kisses you back, his lips soft against yours, conveying all the words he can’t seem to find.
as you pull away, you take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. the night is far from over. 
sunghoon laid you gently on the bed, kissing your neck and shoulders as he moved downward. his hands caressed your breasts, thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples. you moaned softly, already feeling the pleasure building inside you. his mouth found your nipple, sucking and teasing it with his tongue, while his hand squeezed and fondled your other breast.
"you like that, don't you, baby?" sunghoon murmured, looking up at you with a grin. “like how easily i can make you feel good?" his free hand trailed down your stomach, until his fingers found your wet pussy.
teasingly slow, he traced your slit, gathering your juices on his fingers. "so fucking wet for me already," he growled, before bringing his slippery fingers to your mouth. "taste yourself, baby." you obediently sucked your juices off his fingers, your eyes never leaving his.
then, without warning, sunghoon plunged two fingers into your aching cunt, making you gasp. he pumped them in and out, curving his fingers to hit that sweet spot deep inside you. with his thumb, he rubbed your clit in circles, applying just the right amount of pressure.
you’ve been dating for so long that he really could make you feel good so easily. his fingers picked up their pace as he continued to thrust them into you at the pace that he knew would get you to cum the fastest. usually he would tease you, make you beg for him to make you and let you cum. but tonight, he was feeling generous– he owed you for taking such good care of him. 
it didn’t take long for your stomach to start to tighten as your moans to increase with his name. your eyes fighting to stay open as sunghoon fucked his fingers deep inside of you. 
“i-i’m gonna cum, hoon.” you moan out softly to him, your hand wrapping around his forearm for support. 
"that's it, baby, cum for me. let me hear you."
tour back arched off the bed as your orgasm took over your body. tou moaned loudly, calling out his name, your nails digging into his shoulders. sunghoon kept working your pussy through the waves of pleasure, milking every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering body.
as your breathing slowed, sunghoon withdrew his fingers and brought them to his mouth, sucking your juices off them as you watched, transfixed. "delicious," he smiled. "but now I want to feel that tight pussy around my cock."
you eagerly nodded your consent, unable to form words as you were still reeling from your powerful orgasm.
sunghoon trails his hands over your body, caressing your stomach, making you whimper out for more. "you'd look so amazing round and full," he practically whispers out. "wanna fill you up so bad."
sunghoon positioned himself between your legs, hard again from you drying his body so intensely, from you crying out his name and squirming underneath him. his rock-hard dick throbbing with anticipation. gently, he slid inside you, filling you up inch by inch.
you whimpered at the sensation of being stretched around his thick cock. sunghoon paused, giving you a moment to adjust, before beginning a slow, sensuous rhythm. he thrust into you deeply and gently, his hips meeting yours with a soft, pleasurable slap.
"fuck, yn, you feel amazing," sunghoon groaned, his eyes closed in sheer bliss. "your pussy was made for my cock. it fits so perfectly inside you." he quickened his pace slightly, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
you met his movements, pushing your hips up to greet each of his delicious thrusts. "sunghoon, oh god, it feels so good," you cried out. "keep fucking me like this. want you to breed my pussy and fill me up."
hearing your pleas, a dark, possessive smile spreads over his face. sunghoon increased his speed and force, pounding into you fervently. your bodies slapped together, creating a steamy rhythm of flesh on flesh. your juices flowed freely, coating his shaft and dribbling down onto the bed sheets.
"you're my little slut. can't wait to see you pregnant," he groans out.
you gasp at his words, your body thrumming at the idea of being full with his babies, "yes," you breathe, your hands latching onto his shoulders, "breed me like the slut i am. impregnante me, baby."
"fuck you have such a dirty mouth, y/n, love it so much,"
sunghoon continues to thrust in and out of you bare. you can feel every inch of his enter and exit again and again. your damp bodies mixed with sweat and shower-water combine and thrust together. "you're such a good girl, taking me bare, letting me mark you as mine."
sunghoon's possessiveness makes you cry out, a shock of pleasure moves down your body. you can feel your clit start to throb from how turned on and sensitive you were.
"you want everyone to see that you're mine when you're all round and full with my cum? with my baby?"
"oh god yes," you moan, rolling your hips, desperate for his cum. "i want everyone to know you own this pussy- fuck harder."
sunghoon obliges, his hips begin snapping into you at a relentless pace. his cock hits your sweet spots every single time. "that's it, take it. take my cock, baby."
"yes! fuck!" you scream, your body so close to edge. "oh god, i'm close. i'm gonna cum, hoon."
sunghoon leaned down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, his tongue mimicking the thrusts of his cock. you tasted yourself on his lips, adding fuel to the fire burning between your loins. his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding his cock inside you.
"cum with me, baby," sunghoon whispered urgently. "i'm so close. want to feel your pussy milking my cock as you cum." his dirty words sent you over the edge once more. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, causing your walls to contract around his cock.
feeling your pussy squeeze him tightly, sunghoon couldn't hold back any longer. "fuck, y/n! shit!" he grunted, as he released his load deep inside you. strings of hot cum filled your pussy, mixing with your juices. sunghoon collapsed on top of you, his sweaty chest heaving as he caught his breath.
with a satisfied smile, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you lay spooned against his body. you snuggled into his arms, feeling his heart racing against your back. "that was so fucking good, baby," he panted.
you smile, breathing in the scent of his shampoo, “it’s always so good with you.” 
after sunghoon cleans you up, it doesn't take long for you both to be laying in bed, sleep taking over your tired bodies. it was almost well into the early morning at this point.
your shared bedroom is filled with darkness, except for the sliver light filtering in through the blinds. you turn to face him properly, your heart aching as your eyes trace the contours of his bruised face. the swelling, the cuts, the bruises—all reminders of the life he’s chosen, the life you’ve chosen to share with him.
his eyes are closed, his breathing steady but labored. you know that sleep will bring only temporary relief from the pain, both physical and emotional. you reach out, fingers trembling slightly, and gently brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. he stirs but doesn’t wake, his body instinctively leaning into your touch.
you know he will continue to get himself hurt. it’s who he is, who he has always been. he loves being a boxer. and you understand that, even if it breaks your heart a little every time he steps into the ring.
you swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing. this is something you’ve chosen to live with because you love him. the fear, the anxiety, the endless nights of worry—they are all worth it because they come with moments like this, where you can be there for him, hold him, love him.
you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek, careful to avoid the worst of the bruises. his skin is warm under your lips, and you linger there for a moment, breathing him in, memorizing the feel of him.
as you begin to drift off to sleep, you know that when you wake up sunghoon will still be there, that he won’t just disappear. because your love for him, for who he is, bruises and all, is stronger than any fear. and that love, in all its beautiful, painful complexity, is enough.
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@ taeghi, 2024. do not repost or reuse in anyway.
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erosology · 2 months ago
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slow, sloppy makeout sessions with captain john price :( him coming home late from work, dark, puffy bags under his eyes and the stench of cigars clinging to his skin as an indicator of how stressful the day was. His strong brow furrowed in frustration but smooths out once he sees you; his hands reaching out to you and immediately pulling you in as soon as you’re within arm’s reach; wrestling you into his clutches so you two can watch a movie and unwind together; wandering fingers tracing the bare skin of your hip as your shirt hikes up higher and higher before splaying flat across your stomach; feeling his breath dance across the back of your neck as you try your hardest to follow along to the plot
“this part is really important, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. “you need to pay close attention”
but you can’t—not when his familiar scent is filling your nose and you can feel the strong, reliable beat of his heart knocking against his ribs and his fingers are grazing against the band of your underwear. and somewhere along the way, you find yourself facing him and all of the beauty that is him and nearly go blind with love and lust, delicate fingers tracing the outline of your eyes as if teasing to tear them out. it’d be worth it, you think, worth having the last thing you see be your lover’s tired, handsome face
and after some more teasing and giggles, you feel his soft beard tickle your cheek and nearly melt into a puddle of desperation. hands shaking with need, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt and a chuckle reverberates in his chest—low, sweet, tender
“eager, love?”
“jus’ wan’ you, john.”
“you've got me, silly girl. always have, always will”   
his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt as his chapped lips brush against your cheek, and then your nose, and then he slowly grazes them across yours before he slots them together. his kisses, much like him, start off slow, sensual, gentle until the sparks dance together and a fire inevitably starts and you’re choking on cigar smoke and love and other minuscule things. his calloused palms graze your thigh, stomach, sternum, anything that reminds him of how human you both are and how much he adores your skin. soft moans and groans blend together until someone opens their mouth and then suddenly, tongues are tangled together as you try and swallow each other’s pants
somewhere along the way, you’ve wound up in his lap, grinding against his hardening cock, and now his hands are on your hips and encouraging your movement. more moans tumble out of his lips followed by some curses, his lips swollen and his tongue swiping across them
“f-fuck, baby,” he pants. “slow down. i want to taste you a bit more, yeah? kiss me some more.”
and how can you resist? truth be told, you think you might be able to sit on this very couch for the rest of your life, legs wrapped around his waist and fingers tangled in his hair, lips working against his and pulling pretty noises out of his throat. and honest to god, he thinks he would allow it, maybe even indulge in it a little. because he’s here in his living room, some sort of movie he lost track of the plot of long ago playing on his television, your teeth brushing against his bottom lip as you suck it into your mouth, surrounded by love and relaxation
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shotmrmiller · 7 months ago
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simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.
gambling's illegal, you know.
thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.
a veterinarian.
good thing we're all dogs here, then.
he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.
seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.
what, did they guy like steal them or something?
no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.
incredible. (that's insane.)
he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.
lemme take ya out, love—
don't call me that.
and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—
stop talking, simon.
and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.
a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)
with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."
he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"
always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"
the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.
there's never any rest for the wicked.
"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"
the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.
"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."
you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"
his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."
he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"
"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.
"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.
the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.
"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.
black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"
simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."
you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."
he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"
his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."
johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.
pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."
you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"
he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"
"stop talking, simon."
johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.
--
this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.
simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.
even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.
"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.
pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.
simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.
heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.
he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.
"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.
johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."
he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.
oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.
"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.
simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"
he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."
you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.
"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.
"shit, let me go get my medbag."
he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."
a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.
"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.
"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."
you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.
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katsu28 · 7 months ago
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lucky charm
pairing: lando norris x reader
summary: lando finds comfort in your presence as doubt starts to creep in before a race (2k)
warnings: minimal swearing
a/n: hi i know i'm still super new here and i'm not even sure if i'm actually going to start writing rpf but i think about this motherfucker 24/7 now and this came to me in a dream <3 let's ignore the actual way he got his ring necklace okay? okay!
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“No one saw you come in, right?” 
Lando let the door close behind him gently, a total opposite to the quickest few steps you’d ever seen him take across the small driver’s room, and he leaned over to kiss you, hard. 
You let out a squeak of surprise at the force of it, but had no hesitation in kissing him back as soon as your body caught up with your brain, arms looping around his neck to bring him down and closer to you.
Lando’s knees hit the cushions on either side of you, hands doing the same on the leather backrest, clumsy as all hell but twice as determined not to let his mouth leave yours. 
Your fingers knocked the McLaren cap right off his head as they moved into his hair, clutching at his chocolate curls on instinct like you’d done so many times before. But never here, never before one of Lando’s races, and certainly never at the risk of being caught by anyone in the facility at any given moment. 
It didn’t seem to matter to Lando, though, with the way he was kissing you like he was parched and you were the only thing that could quench his thirst. 
But given the rather frantic series of texts you’d received from him that got you here in the first place, you weren’t at all too surprised. You knew how nervous Lando got before races, and if there was something you could do, you’d never hesitate to be there for him. Especially since you were able to make it to this one. 
“Yeah,” He mumbled between kisses, panting against your lips. Somehow he’d managed to switch positions so he was the one on the sofa now and you were sitting on his lap, straddling his hips as you continued your rather sloppy makeout session. “Yeah, yeah, we’re good. ‘M sneaky like that.” 
“Had a lot of practice at this, have you?” 
“No!” It was almost comical how fast he pulled away from you to blurt out his answer. “No, not at all. I don’t know why I said that, I—” 
“I was just kidding, bub.” You chuckled, smoothing the pad of your thumb across his kiss-swollen bottom lip fondly. Lando grinned sheepishly, giving your waist a playful little pinch. You’d never get over the way he looked at you, like you were the only other person to exist in the world—especially when he was under you like this, and especially with those eyes. His baby cow eyes, you always called them. 
Even so, Lando was extremely tense, you could tell. He tended to get very in his head before races, probably why he asked you to come meet him so close to the green flag, to help him quell his nerves a little. He always said you helped him more than anything else ever could. 
“I have something for you.” You said softly. 
“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” He leaned back against the cushion, happily accepting the chaste kiss you pressed to his lips before you bounced off his lap and over to where your bag was sitting. 
You rummaged around in it for a few moments until you found what you were looking for, a triumphant grin on your face as you made your way back over to an intrigued Lando. This time you settled next to him, throwing your legs across his lap. His hand came to rest on your knee immediately. 
“Open it.” You urged, pressing the small black bag into his waiting palm. He undid the drawstring carefully, beaming even before he got a look at what was inside. That smile only grew bigger as he poured the contents of the bag into his hand. 
A thin silver chain, joined together at the ends with two interlocking rings, sleek and silver just like the rest of the necklace. Upon closer inspection, he saw numbers etched into the inside of each one. One of them, Lando recognized instantly as the date of your anniversary. The other looked like a set of coordinates, but he wasn’t too great at geography, so he looked to you for an explanation. 
“The place we first met.” 
“You looked up the coordinates of that tiny little restaurant? Nerd.” He chuckled, artfully dodging the swat you aimed his way at his teasing remark.
“It could be, like, your new lucky charm or something.” You shrugged, watching him turn the rings around carefully between his fingers. 
Lando glanced up, bumping your shoulder with his gently. “I’ve already got one.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. It’s you.” 
“Me?” 
“I like knowing you’re watching me. Even though I can’t see you, or even if you’re not here, knowing I’ve got you cheering me on from wherever you are helps. I think it makes me a better driver.” 
“Lan, you’re already a great driver.. You don’t need me for you to know that.” 
“I know. I just—it keeps me focused. To know you’re there.” He said softly, giving your hand a tight squeeze. “And now with this, I can have a piece of you with me whenever. Here, help me put it on.” 
“You can’t wear it under your suit, Lando, even I know that.”
“Alright, well, I’ll figure it out later. C’mon, put it on me.” Lando leaned forward, giving you space to bring the chain up over his head and around his neck. He even managed to sneak in another kiss whilst you followed the silver down to where the rings rested just below his collarbones. Your fingers stroked at the warm skin there, the cold of the metal contrasting.
“It looks good on you.” 
Lando melted like a popsicle on a hot summer day under your touch, smiling so big at you that you could hardly believe this was the same boy who had other drivers trembling in their fireproofs. He hoisted you back into his lap effortlessly, nosing at your pulse point a bit before smacking a kiss to your cheek when you wrapped your arm around his shoulders. “You look good on me.” 
“That was so bad. Like, really bad. I get why they call you Lando Norizz now.” 
“What?! Bad? That was so fucking smooth!” He huffed, going from looking completely smitten to entirely offended. “And I happen to have lots of rizz, thank you very much. I practically ooze rizz, love.” 
“I take it back.” You replied solemnly, patting Lando’s cheek. “That was worse.” 
“You’re so mean to me. I don’t know why I even put up with this harassment!” 
“Always so dramatic, you.” 
“I’ve got to be! How else would I be able to withstand this abuse?” 
You scoffed playfully and moved to climb off him, opting to keep a safe enough distance away so you wouldn’t be tempted to kiss him stupid. Then he’d really be late. “Don’t you have a race to prepare for, driver boy?” 
“I am,” He said earnestly, tucking his hands behind his head. You arched a skeptical brow, hands propped on your hips. 
“By hiding out in here with me?” 
“You know what they say—calm the mind, and the body will follow.” 
“I’ve literally never heard anyone say that.” 
“Well maybe people should start!” 
You huffed out an amused chuckle, crossing your arms. “Are you ready?” 
A sudden silence  blanketed the tiny room, Lando’s non response giving you all you needed to know. 
He reached out for you with a pout that you’d never been quite able to resist, fingers beckoning you back over longingly, like you were too far away for his liking. You gave in almost immediately despite previously wanting to give him space, trudging over with an overexaggerated roll of your eyes and letting yourself be pulled back onto his lap yet again. 
“I’ll be alright.” He answered finally, taking your hand in his. He fiddled with your fingers, tracing along each digit languidly and then circling his thumb over your palm—once, twice, a third time. 
This, something you’d learned quite early on in your relationship with Lando, was one of his many versions of self-soothing. The repetition of his actions proved rather calming to him, and it certainly helped that he got to feel your skin against his. 
His brows drew together in thought, furrowed and tense until you pushed your thumb into the wrinkle between them, smoothing out the scrunch. He wrapped his fingers around your wrist loosely. 
“You’re gonna do great, you know.” You insisted. 
He offered you as good of a smile as he could muster. “Yeah. I know.”  
“You’re gonna do your best, and whatever happens, you’ve got so many people who’ll be proud of you no matter what.”
“I don’t know if it’s enough.” Lando blurted, scratching at a patch on his suit. “I’ve been racing for years, and I still have no wins to show for it. It’s not fair to my team, it’s not fair to the fans. It’s not fair to you. You shouldn’t have to have a boyfriend who can’t fucking drive for shit.” 
“Lando, I’m not with you because of your job.” You said shortly, pressing your lips into a thin, unamused line. “And quite frankly, I feel hurt that you could even think I was.” 
Lando was quick to soothe, shaking his head frantically. He took both your hands in his, squeezing. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m sorry, it’s just—I get in my head a lot. And I start to overthink, and shit comes out of my mouth that I don’t mean. I know you’re not like that, I do. I’m sorry.” 
You softened, sighing. “You could never win a race, ever, and I'd still love you all the same.”
He snorted. “Well, I’d like to win one at some point.” 
“What I meant was, I can’t speak for everyone else, but my pride for you has nothing to do with how well you do on the track, my love.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. I’m proud of you because you’re you. You’re kind and you work hard, and you try your best at everything you do. Even if the outcome isn’t what you expected, you keep at it. You keep going. That’s one of the reasons why I love you, that’s why I’m so proud of you.” 
“I’m stupid.” He groaned, tipping his head back against the couch cushions. You simply made a noise of agreement. “You’re too good to me. I love you.”
“I love you too. Now, you really need to go back to the garage. I’m sure Oscar’s sent out a search party for you at this point.” You said firmly, giving his chest a sharp poke. Lando groaned again but made to get up, shifting your legs off him so he could climb to his feet. 
“Fine. Just kick me out of my own room, why don’t you?” He huffed dramatically, swiping his hat off the floor and jamming it back over his hair. You aimed a fake kick towards him, stifling a giggle when he caught your foot and pretended to undo your laces. “Kiss?” 
“You need to leave, Lando,” You whined, batting him away gently. “I refuse to be the reason you’re late.” 
“One more. Just one more for good luck and I promise I’ll leave.” He insisted, expression pleading. You grumbled something unintelligible, reaching up begrudgingly to bring him down for one last kiss. 
Lando smiled against your lips, snaking a hand around the back of your neck to keep you in place a few beats longer than you intended. You practically had to unstick yourself from him, giving him a little shove towards the door so he’d actually leave. 
Immediately, he whirled around. “Wait, wait—”
“Lando! Go!” 
“No, no, hold on, it’s important.” He slipped his newfound chain over his head, rubbing his thumb over both rings before holding it out towards you. “Keep this safe for me?” He asked earnestly, pressing the necklace into your hands. “Can’t have my lucky charm getting lost already, can I?” 
“Give ‘em hell, number four.” You smiled, donning the necklace yourself. He beamed, blowing you a kiss as he backpedaled down the hall. "Number four on the track, number one in my heart!"
You could hear his infectious laughter echoing even as he retreated around the corner.
Lando would be fine. And if he wasn’t, he’d bounce back, like he always did. And you’d be there to support him every step of the way, like you always were. 
follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new fics :)
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rafesangelita · 7 months ago
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can you do like a spin off to the fic you did where rafe went to the strip club, and instead of them making up y/n stands on business and leaves 😭? thank you if you do i love your writing smmm
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warnings: angst, cheating
a/n: i heard y’all loud and clear, i hope you guys like this version just as much, if not more <3 based off of this request
“fuck, they don’t make them like this on figure eight.” you watched with watery eyes as rafe’s hands roamed the body of a stranger, his friends hollering in the background. seeing rafe receive a lap dance should’ve been enough for you to click out of instagram and call it quits, but you couldn’t help yourself in watching the rest of kelce’s stories. after skimming through the rest of the photos and videos, you didn’t have any tears left in you to cry.
getting up on shaky legs, you took everything you could fit in a suitcase, ignoring the calls from rafe as you went around your shared bedroom, grabbing your things. just as you were taking your last bag downstairs, the front door opened, revealing the last person you wanted to face right now. “what’s all of this?” your head shot up at the voice, your lips swollen from biting on them so hard. “what’s wrong?” he moved close, making you back away.
“please don’t touch me.” your voice came out weak. rafe scoffed, blinking rapidly as you took a seat on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “what’s wrong with you? why do you have all your shit down here?” he kneeled in front of you, the smell of cheap perfume filling your senses. “you should probably remind your friends to hide me from their story ‘next time you want to let someone put their boobs in your face.” you sniffled, avoiding his gaze.
rafe sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before he reached for your arm. “baby, please, i can explain everything.” you smiled, shaking your head. “you don’t have to. i really don’t care anymore, i’m leaving.” he narrowed his eyes at you, stumbling over his next words. “w-what the fuck are you talking about?” he grabbed two of your bags, about to take them upstairs before you stopped him. “this isn’t the first time you’ve been unfaithful, rafe, and if i don’t leave right now, it won’t be the last.” your voice cracked.
he shook his head, jogging upstairs, only to see you had cleared everything that belonged to you. rafe’s heart dropped, it looked like you had never been here to begin with. panic settled in his gut. “you can’t leave, i won’t let you.” he came back down, his eyes filled with guilt. “i already have a car on the way.” rafe shouted, punching the air. “y/n, i’m begging you baby, please let’s just go to bed-” you watched him cry, and for the first time you felt nothing. “we’ll forget all about this in the morning, alright? i’ll take you somewhere nice for breakfast, we could spend the day on the druthers the way that you like.” by the way he was talking, it sounded like he was reassuring himself more than you.
“and sweep it under the rug just like the last few times? no.” you laughed bitterly. “you cheat and time and time again i don’t do anything about it. i’m so tired, rafe. ‘tired of hearing the women at the country club call me ‘dumb and clueless’, i’m tired of everyone giving me pitiful looks everytime we walk inside a room.. i’m tired of not being valued.” you looked down at your hand, removing the promise ring that clearly didn’t mean anything.
“hey, hey, come on,” he pulled you up, “i value you, you know i do. i get you everything you want, goddamit, i take care of you!” you flinched at the volume of his voice. “i could get myself whatever i want rafe. all i’ve ever wanted was for you to be faithful, and you can’t even do that.” he watched as you glanced outside. “my ride is here.” he blinked, everything hitting him all at once. “y/n, stop.” he held you in place, not allowing you to move until you shoved him.
“there’s someone out there who is going to love me, and care about my feelings in all situations, someone who isn’t selfish.” you started rolling your suitcase out of the house, rafe following closely behind. “please don’t leave!” he ran his fingers through his hair. he begged and begged until you held the very last bag in your hand. “i hope one day you meet someone like yourself, fall in love with them, and realize that no matter what you do, it will never be enough.” he watched you get into the black suv, feeling nothing but despair as the car drove away.
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sturnioz · 15 days ago
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꒰ STURNIOZ KINKTOBER '24 ꒱ !
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confident!reader has been in a mood all day, fratboy!matt only has one solution to put her in her place.
tw. spanking (ass & pussy slaps)
you are definitely in a mood.
no, there isn't any reason; nothing has set you off. but you are feeling irritable — evil — snapping at anyone for any little thing. the frat brothers of the house, always loud and boisterous, fall quiet the moment you enter the room, their conversations dying mid-sentence as they eyeball each other, watching as you stomp around the house, your lip curled in disdain and eyebrows deeply furrowed.
the slightest sound — crinkle of a chip bag — makes your head whip around, your eyes narrowing at the frat brother responsible who froze up, wide-eyed, waiting for you to say something.
a laugh that's too loud, piercing the air, sends a snarl curing your lips, and the frat brother who made the noise immediately clears his throat, ducking his head, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.
"kitty's got her fuckin' claws out today," one of them remarks under their breath, and it ignites a fire in your chest, your blood boiling. "must be on her period—"
"what the fuck did you just—"
before you can finish your threat, matt's already swooping in when you get too close, tossing you over his shoulder like a rag doll as he walks away. you claw at his back, frustration bubbling over as you shout for him to put you down while your finger points accusingly at the frat brother, whose face burns with embarrassment.
matt carries you to his bedroom, slamming the door shut with his foot, the sound echoing throughout the room before throwing you down on the bed, and you bounce slightly, glaring up at him with a mix of fury and disbelief.
you're seething — nostrils flaring as anger courses through you, and in a moment of frustration, you make the silly mistake of reaching out to scratch him when he holds his hands up in a gesture for you to calm down, something that only infuriates you even more and is the last thing you want to hear right now.
matt hisses as your acrylic nails graze his arm, the slight sting making him all but growl in response as he manhandles you, flipping you onto your back and laying you across his lap with a speed that disorients you.
you're kicking out your legs in protest as matt flips up your skirt, his hand cracking down on your covered ass cheek with a resounding smack. your eyes widen, a gasp fleeting past your lips as he delivers another stinging slap right after the first.
"really? gonna fuckin' scratch me when you're havin' a tantrum?" he huffs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh and you squirm, alternating between mewls and gasp as he continues to spank your ass, each blow landing harder than the last.
"matt!" your voice whines out softly, the anger and frustration fading away slowly as you whine, wiggling your hips as matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, his hand sliding under you to grope at your panty-clad mound.
"fuckin' like this shit too much. s'a punishment, sweetheart... not supposed to enjoy it."
matt's fingers roughly pull down your soaked panties mid-thigh, exposing your puffy, glistening folds to the room and you gasp as you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive clit, making you shudder.
"look at this.. already so wet f'me." matt sneers, pulling his hand back before spanking it down on your pussy, the force sending ripples through your tender skin.
a sharp cry of pain and pleasure escapes your lips as he strikes your folds again, the sting immediate and intense, making your hips wiggle back to seek more friction as you whimper.
matt repeats the motion, going back and forth between your swollen folds and throbbing clit, each spank sending shockwaves of pleasurable pain coursing through your body.
you can feel yourself getting embarrassingly wetter by the second, your arousal coating matt's hand as he slaps it down against your skin. but after one final spank, matt removes his hand from between your thighs and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"that should teach you to watch your tone w'me..." matt murmurs as he brings his hand up higher, swiping his thumb across your undereye to wipe at the mascara residue. "now, y'gonna tell me what's actually botherin' you? talk to me."
"dunno.." you answer truthfully, not liking how weak your voice sounds when you're used to being so confident and loud. "just pissed off.. bad day."
"uh-huh.." matt hums as his fingers trail back down to your swollen, glistening pussy, rubbing soothing circles around your sensitive clit, and you croon into his touch. "y'know you can come to me when you're havin' a bad day, sweetheart... s'what i'm here for, yeah?"
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© STURNIOZ
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vampiefemme · 1 month ago
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a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)
tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only
the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.
even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.
she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.
but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.
you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.
you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.
“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”
“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”
“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”
she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.
“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.
“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”
so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.
you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.
but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.
“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”
your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.
“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”
so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”
you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”
it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.
on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.
but you decide you don’t want that today.
when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.
suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.
you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.
“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.
your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”
you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.
ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”
and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.
“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”
she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.
“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.
“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.
she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”
another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”
ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.
this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.
your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.
spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.
“hey,” she says, “i love you.”
you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”
her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”
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aajjks · 1 month ago
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JJK men as Yandere’s
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warnings: 18+. dárk thèmès, àbüsè, mánípúlátíòn, sèxúàl thèmès.
Gojo Satoru:
The manipulative charming bastard.
Oh, once you’re in his trap it’s over for you
Because he’s just so charming it’s impossible for you to leave him and he’s so good at guilt tripping, he’s gorgeous and he knows it.
He knows you like the back of his hand. He knows the way you think he knows the way you breathe and he knows the way you look at him.
Oh, he knows you better than you know your own self and that’s the biggest power he has over you because even if you want to leave him, you cannot. He’s such a good manipulator because if you refuse to kiss him, he’s gonna guilt trip you into kissing him and it’s just not gonna stop at that.
You’re gonna be under him, with him deep inside you, fucking you for hours, your swollen lips shut as you let him fuck you, make you feel good, because no one can ever make you feel as good as your beloved boyfriend, Satoru can.
Right? Right.
“S-Shit shit… fuck— goodness you feel so good, you’re the only one who can make me feel this good right, you know it baby don’t you? Oh I cannot live without you. Please don’t fucking leave me because I am nothing without you.”
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Toji Fushiguro:
The controlling toxic sex freak.
Best of luck to you if you ever catch his eye, no honestly I feel bad for you.
Because he’s so controlling, jealous, possessive, and fucking toxic. And he doesn’t feel bad about it., you’re lucky if you’re with him OK? You’re the luckiest woman in the world in his opinion because he loves you so much.
He’s narcissistic, he thinks that he deserves everything in the world and you’re the best one for him, even though he won’t admit it out loud, but you’re the best girl in the whole world
And that sounds romantic coming from a man like him, but… oh poor girl… how do you keep up with him? The answer is that you don’t.
He makes you. That is not your choice because he’s forcing you straight up by threatening you. If you don’t let him eat you out? You’re not getting to eat.
Because you’re starving him so he’s gonna starve you. If you refuse to suck him off? You don’t get to shower or go to the bathroom.
It’s infuriating, it’s unfair.
If you refuse to let him fuck you raw? He’s actually gonna make you eat raw food. So what is better? raw sex or raw meat, veggies?
And the thing is that you refuse him because he goes on for hours, HOURS. It’s crazy and disturbing, exhausting beyond words. He could go for weeks, without stopping.
Sometimes you wonder that he’s not a human, and maybe he’s not because someone like him cannot be one, but too bad for you because you’re never gonna be leaving him.
And even if you manage to leave him? You’re gonna be leaving him in a body bag.
“Stupid girl… you piss me off so fuckin bad yet you make me so horny, com’ere let me fuck you and I might not punish you, oh sorry… got your cunt bleeding.. I guess I got a little carried away, but you’re so yummy that I cannot help but want to actually devour you.”
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Geto Suguru:
the sane psycho.
He seems normal, charming.
He’s attractive, he is compassionate.. but there is a dark side to him that only you get to witness. He is good at pretending… oh that is his talent.
He can fool anyone in this world by his stupid, good boy persona, but… you know, and you have met the monster that lurks behind that.
You meet that monster every single day and night.
The thing with him is that he’s like a ticking bomb
He’s like a bomb with a bow on it
Don’t piss him off and you’re gonna be feeling like the queen of the world, but if you piss him off, you just might be dead. He’s not too demanding, but when he needs something and you don’t give it to him, he goes crazy, or even ballistic.
He’s a sweet guy, but when he fucks you? He fucks you like he hates you. And the worst part is that when he’s doing you like that, the words are the sweetest things coming out of his mouth.
He doesn’t like being told what to do and he’s really protective over you even though it was attractive at first, now? it has become suffocating
The funny part is that he doesn’t understand that he’s the one you need protection from, you don’t need protection from a guy you see when you’re walking down the street.
You need protection from the guy who is beside you every time you walk down the street, or even breathe in the same room with, but it depends on you
He reminds you that every single time you cry.
Treat him good and he will treat you even better
Treat him bad? You’re GONE.
“tskkk.,, why are you like this? Do you enjoy hurting my feelings? And when I do the same thing to you, you start crying like the pathetic bitch that you become sometimes… ugh yn. When I ask you for something from you so sweetly, you say yes to me OK? I’m sorry I love you.”
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gghostwriter · 4 months ago
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Hi was wondering if I could make a request?
I was thinking of a scenario where reader is a artist and Spencer catches her drawing him and willingly poses
Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff! Just fluff Warning: Tooth rotting fluff A/N: I think this would be the mushiest I've ever written, it's so cute. I hope you enjoy it! Main masterlist
Birds of a Feather. // Spencer Reid
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There’s a common belief that states opposites attract and you’d say you and Spencer were a perfect example of this—he lives opposite your apartment, his career is part of the law enforcement industry while yours is from the creative industry, he’s a man of science while you’re a woman of art—to name a few. But all these were insignificant when you got to know him as a person. As Spencer Reid rather than SSA Dr. Spencer Reid. The same man who helped you carry boxes up to your floor when you first moved in. The same man who shyly accepted your dinner offer as a ‘thank you’, and the same man who tried his best to paint you a flower just to ask you out. 
All these small sweet nothings were what led to this lazy Sunday morning where the sunlight streams into your windows—the curtains softening its glow—hitting his brunette hair, turning strands into gold as he lounges on the sofa with a book in hand and as you hunch over your sketchbook, pencil scratching the paper, trying to capture this moment in time. 
Spencer was brought out of his riveting book on Quantum Physics when he felt your adoring gaze leaving and returning on him. He stealthily adjusted his position to take a peek at the sketchbook placed on your lap. 
He sucked in a breath when he realized what, or more specifically, who it was. 
“I-is that suppose to be me?” He clarified. 
You peeked at him through your lashes and nodded. “Yeah. Doesn’t it look like you?” 
“He’s too—pretty. Are you sure it’s me?” 
You giggled, catching on where he was going with it. “And you are! Derek calls you ‘pretty boy’ for a reason.” 
“That’s just him teasing me, Y/N.” 
You took his cheeks in your hands, minding the charcoal smudges on your fingertips. “Well I for one think you’re very pretty—inside and out.” You leaned in to give him a kiss. “So handsome, I can’t believe I get to call you mine.” 
Spencer melted under your affections. You always did have a way with your words in soothing his insecurities when they reared their head. Two years, six months, and eleven days of being together, you could read him like the back of your hand—an extension of you. 
“Sometimes I wonder—” he took your hands into his as the self-doubt started pouring out of him. “—how I got you to like me. We’re so different. You could have any man and—” he bit his lip. “—you still chose me.” 
“Hey, hey. Spence. None of that, okay? I’m the lucky one. I love your mind—” you placed a kiss on each side of his temple. “—and all the facts that you keep in it. I love your quirks—“ a peck on his left cheek. “—how you wear mismatched socks and always have an extra lipgloss in your bag since I lose mine. I love how you take care of me—” a kiss on his right cheek. “—how I’m the first person you talk to in the morning and the last one at night. And I love you—” a peck on his lips. “—in all of your entirety.” 
He cradled your head and leaned in for a longer kiss. It was as if he was communicating his adoration and devotion with each caress of his mouth on yours. He pulled away, noting the glassy look in your eyes and how swollen your lips looked. “I love you, Y/N.”
He looked down at your sketchpad. The drawing of him now messy and smudged in between your bodies. 
“That’s alright, Spence. I can always draw you again.” 
He placed the abandoned pencil back into your dominant hand. “Would you want—like me to pose for you?”
A smile blossomed on your face. The type backed by such delight and pleasure that he’d do anything for it to never go away. “You would?” 
He nodded, stunned with how you seemed to glow. 
“Okay, okay! You can just—” she pointed back to where he was a while ago. “—relax and continue reading.”
Following instructions, he lounged and open back his book—mindful of each movement that he made. As you were studying him—how the light casts a shadow on cheek, how graceful his neck looked. Spencer was also studying you—how each stroke of your hand was precise, how your tongue slightly peeked out when you concentrate, and how your cheeks would turn pink in color each time your gazes meet.
And although you’d like to believe that opposites attract, Spencer would like to believe that you and him were just ‘birds of a feather’. All the differences were inconsequential because he saw all the traits that you like to point out as his strengths—his empathy, his warmth, his brilliance, and even his beauty—in you, just infinity multiplied. 
And so on that very same day and minute, surrounded by the scratching of your pencil, the muffled noise of the city life outside, and the love that seemed to pour out of you like honey, he knew. He knew you were the one. 
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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papaya-twinks · 3 months ago
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how about some sugardaddy!lando spoiling y/n in every aspect of their relationship 👀
Warnings: sugar dating, 18+, smut, blowjob
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
A/N - I’m doing it where they ain’t dating
You and Lando weren’t dating, no. Yes, he had been inside of you a hell of a lot more times than most couples but you weren’t dating. He was your sugar daddy. And you were okay with it, as was he. Lando didn’t want a relationship, neither did you
He wanted to get over his sexual frustrations and (as well as enjoying the sex) you wanted the money too. It was perfect. “Y/N,” Lando said, walking into his driver room. You were sat on the bed, all dolled up like Lando wanted, in a small little dress, your hair gorgeous, eyes blinking to him.
“Got you this, thought it’d look pretty when I fuck you,” he smirked, handing you a white gift bag, with a little silver choker inside. “Thank you,” you smiled, letting him tie it round your neck, standing back to admire the charm across your collarbone.
“Come here,” he said, gesturing for you to move closer to him. You wriggled across the bed, crawling onto your hands and knees as he watched with satisfaction, his lips curled into a grin. “Good,” he said, bringing one hand to trace the necklace, the pad of his thumb grazing your jaw softly.
“Haven’t got time for a fuck,” Lando said, looking down at you, his eyes never leaving the necklace. You knew what he wanted. With one tug, you pulled his joggers down, followed by his boxers, his cock springing free against your hand. “This is what I pay you for,” he groaned, head thrown back as you licked a long stripe against his cock.
You had to admit, there were times where you did wish maybe you and Lando were a thing, but others, it felt ludicrous. You watched from under your lashes as his jaw went slack, one of his hand cupping your cheek where his dick bulged slightly, your face a cute rosy pink.
“Gorgeous,” he groaned, “you’re so gorgeous,”. You were well accustomed to having him down your throat, so it didn’t hurt as much as it had the first time he’d held your head and rolled his hips. You gagged a few times, his hand bunching in your locks as he moved his hips a little, his cheeks bright red, eyes closed.
“Fuck,” he hissed as his orgasm washed over him, your lips a little swollen from the sucking, your cheek bulging. “Swallow it,” Lando said simply, moving your head from between his legs, tilting your chin back up as he rearranged your hair, humming as if nothing had happened. “If I win, we’ll do this again, and more,” he said, flashing you a smile before he left.
People wouldn’t approve of this between you and Lando, which was why no one knew. And you were glad to keep it that way.
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cameronsprincess · 4 months ago
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thinking about… blue collar!rafe coming home after a week away and he fucks you real good on the couch.
CW: blue collar!rafe, lineman!rafe, soft!rafe, unprotected piv sex, ass slapping, praise and dirty talk.
daydreams 𓆩♡𓆪 main masterlist 𓆩♡𓆪 taglist form
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it’d been an entire week since he’d left for florida. his job needed all hands on deck after a hurricane had went through, and rafe, as usual, had to leave immediately and would be gone for an entire week.
you’d been checking life360 non-stop, watching and waiting until he got home. you missed him. you missed his face, his smell, his lips on yours, the feel of his strong arms around your waist at night as the two of you slept. but you were also really horny, and ready for your man to come home and fuck you good just like he always did after time away.
you squeal in excitement when your phone pings, a life360 notification letting you know he was finally home. you rush out to the front porch, jumping up and down and squealing as you watch his truck pull into the driveway.
once he’s parked and out of the truck, you take off running, jumping into his open arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. the two of you waste no time in kissing one another, mouths moving fervently together, teeth and tongues clashing as he holds you tightly against his body.
he breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes and smiling. “missed ya, sweetheart.”
your smile grows. “i missed you so much more! i’m so happy you’re home!”
he starts walking toward the front door, his right arm under the curve of your ass, supporting your weight and carrying you inside the house.
he kicks the door shut with his boot, dropping his bag on the floor and locking the door before he carries you to the couch, dropping you down onto it.
“know what i missed more than your pretty face?” he asks, smirking.
you bat your lashes and bite at the inside of your cheek, “i dunno, what?” you ask innocently.
he grips the hem of his work t-shirt, pulling it up and over his head, tossing it to the floor before undoing his belt. “missed that sweet little pussy. my cocks been achin’ for the feel of your warm, wet cunt wrapped tightly ‘round it.”
your cheeks instantly heat at his filthy words, your pussy throbbing as you watch him slide his dark denim jeans and boxers down his legs. his hard cock springs free, slapping just below his belly button. your eyes zero in on his perfectly mushroomed tip, already dripping precum.
“fuck, i missed you so much rafe, please fuck me.”
he grins, taking one long step toward you. he leans forward, gripping your ankles and pulling you toward him. he wastes no time in stripping you of your tight biker shorts and cropped tank top, leaving you in nothing but your black lace panties and bra.
“so fuckin’ pretty, my girls a smoke show.”
you blush at his praise, you always loved how beautiful he made you feel, always reminding you of how beautiful you were.
his long fingers dip into the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs and tossing them behind him. his eyes flit down to your soaked pussy, his bottom lip brought between his teeth. “jesus christ, never seen nothin’ so pretty. already so wet f’me, go on, flip over, on your knees, ass out.”
you quickly obey his command, flipping so your back is to him. your hands grip at the back of the couch, tits pressed firmly against the cushions as you poke your ass out, swaying it side to side for him.
“fuck me, baby. please, need to feel your cock inside me!”
rafe lands two harsh slaps to your ass cheeks, making you squeal in surprise. his large hands harshly grip at the flesh, jiggling it in his hands before he slaps your ass again.
“such a needy little thing ain’t ya? beggin’ to be fucked.”
you moan out in response when he slaps your ass again. he grips his hard cock in his hands, sliding his swollen head through your slick folds. you push your ass out further, chasing the feel of him stretching you out. he chuckles, slapping your ass with his free hand and shoving his entire length inside you without warning.
you scream his name, letting your face fall into the couch cushions as you dig your nails into the back of it.
“fuck, sweetheart. your pussy is squeezin’ me so tight, i think she missed me.”
he places both hands firmly on your hips, using them as support as he begins fucking himself into you. he uses his hands on your hips to pull you back onto his cock, meeting each of his harsh thrusts.
nothing but the sounds of both your heavy breathing, moans and groans and the squelching of your pussy fill the room. rafe fucks into you hard and fast, the head of his dick repeatedly hitting at your g-spot.
your pussy clamps down around him, squeezing him tightly, causing him to groan. “shit, gonna cum inside this pretty pussy, love watchin’ my cum leak outta you.”
you whimper, your pussy pulsing as he continues to brutally pound himself in and out of you. “r-rafe, gonna… shit! gonna cum!”
“yeah? my girl gonna cum all over my cock? go on baby, cum f’me.”
rafe removes his right hand from your hip, splaying it on your stomach before running down and finding your clit. he begins running slow circles around the puffy, sensitive bud.
you moan loudly as your pussy pulses, your lower belly tightening. a warm feeling washes over your entire body, an explosion of pleasure rushing through you as you come undone around his cock. “ffffuck! i love you! holy shit!” you cry out, legs shaking.
rafe’s thrusts grow sloppy, his dick swelling inside you. you feel him twitch inside you, giving one final thrust, burying himself to the hilt before he cums too, spilling deep inside you.
the two of you are spent by the time he slowly pulls himself from inside you. he plops down on the couch beside you, head thrown back and hands clasped together on his chest. he opens one eye and turns his head to face you, “i love you, sweetheart. missed you tons.”
you fall into his arms, curling up into a ball in his lap as he softly strokes your hair. “i love you too, missed you more.”
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feedback is very appreciated! ❤️
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writtenbymoonflower · 10 months ago
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Hi lovely!! Firstly I want to say I love your works 🥰🥰 always happy to see someone keeping the poly!marauders tag alive! Could I request poly!marauders with fem!reader who just got her wisdom teeth out? Or some sort of procedure where they’re under anesthesia I’m not picky 😭😭 it’s always so cute to see reader all loopy and their bfs like “she’s so cute I want to eat her 😍”
Feel free to ignore this if you don’t vibe with it!! Love you loads 🎀
Thank you so much baby! I relate to this so much because in the two ish weeks I wasn't posting I actually got mine out! Love you loads as well! fem!reader x poly!marauders.
cw: surgery, pain meds, anesthesia
619 words
“C'mon, sweet thing. Let’s get you inside.” James coaxed, gently. He was basically holding you up as you stumbled over the threshold of your home, still spacey from the anesthesia and pain medicine. 
“W- we’re home!” You slurred, muffled by the gauze in the back of your mouth. You tried to struggle free from James’ grasp, but he held fast to your arm. He was far stronger than you in typical circumstances, but in your inebriated state it was like a bunny trying to tug on an elephant. 
“Easy, love.” Remus chided, placing the hand that wasn’t holding your prescriptions on your shoulder. 
“I can do it myself.” You pulled against your boyfriends’ hold again, missing Sirius' lovingly annoyed expression in your determination.
“I’m sure you can, baby.” Sirius placated. “But then you would be denying us the pleasure of helping you. Don’t be mean and let us help you, yeah?” He rubbed up and down your arm through your thick sweater. 
“I wasn’t trying to be mean.” You said, voice wobbling with misery. Remus avoided the strong urge to swat his boyfriend. 
“You’re never mean lovie,” James cut his eyes to Sirius before fixing you with an awfully kind look. “Pads is just being a git, yeah?” He encouraged you to lie down on the bed.
“He’s not a git!” You shot back. “I love him!” Sirius thought he could cry from fondness on the spot. 
“Aw, I love you too, baby.” He knelt down to stroke your hair and resisted the urge to kiss your swollen cheeks. James helped you under the covers while Remus set the bag of care supplies on the dresser. You made grabby hands at Sirius, trying to pull him on top of you. (sober you would die before being that blatant in wanting)
“Gentle, dovey. You’re fragile right now, don’t hurt yourself” Remus gently scolded. 
“B- but I wanna cuddle!” You whined. James wondered if your words right now were just your internal thoughts all the time, he kind of hoped they were. Sirius gently moved you over enough for him to crawl in, holding you to lie on your back while he wrapped his arms around you. Remus was still by the dresser, reading the instructions again and setting out your medications. James leaned up to kiss him on the cheek. 
“Thank you for doing this.” He whispered, stroking the taller boy's hair. 
“Don’t mention it. I just know when she wakes again she is going to feel awful.” Remus winced. 
“She’s a trooper, though.” James added. “Remember they had to wheel me to the car when I got mine taken out. I also sobbed the whole way home and had a death grip on Pads so much he had bruises.” He recalled from his operation. 
“Yeah, you were a big baby, huh?” Remus teased. 
“Exactly,” Sirius piped up, holding onto your now sleeping form. You were out cold, some of the meds still clearly in your system. “At least she’s a cute baby.” 
“Oi! You said I was cute!" James said furiously. 
“You were, love. You always are.” Remus said, cheeks flaming. James sighed, looking at you. 
“She’s so precious I could eat her.” He said, lovelorn. 
“Don’t think she’s gonna want that for a while, Prongs.” Sirius teased, still stroking your arms and hair.
“Get your mind out of the gutter!” James scolded, walking over to the bed and flopping down on your other side, Remus close on his tail. He kissed your head chastely, steering clear from any sore areas. You stirred in your sleep, not discontentedly, but rather reveling in their hold.
Your boyfriends didn’t know if they could survive this amount of fondness, but they weren’t complaining.
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pin-k-ink · 4 months ago
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linger // hoshina soshiro
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tw ⇢ quickie, rough sex, semi public sex, masturbation, biting/marking, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, dirty talk, making out, hoshina is fucking horny
wc ⇢ 2.7k
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Your hips swayed hypnotically as you strode through the bedroom doorway, duffle bag slung over one shoulder. Soshiro couldn't tear his eyes away from the enticing roll of your curves even if he tried.
He sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists atop his thighs. Jaw clenched, throat bobbing convulsively as he fought with everything he had not to pounce and haul you bodily into his lap right then and there.
Two weeks. It had been two goddamn weeks since Soshiro last had a chance to properly touch you. To run his palms over the lush valleys and dips of your body he knew so intimately. To grip your hips as he buried his cock to the hilt inside your velvet cunt while your fingernails scored down his back deliriously.
His cock strained painfully against the front of his sweatpants, rapidly swelling thicker at just the memory of your breathless cries and the way you trembled around him so perfectly. Soshiro cursed under his breath as you bent over, ass practically on display in those tight leggings, gathering something off the floor.
Fuck, he was going insane not being able to put his hands and mouth all over you. The itch beneath his skin was becoming unbearable with each passing moment spent in your proximity but unable to indulge. Soshiro's focus zeroed in on the inviting curve of your spine, imagining dragging his tongue along that tantalizing path and tasting the salt on your skin.
You straightened up and he quickly averted his gaze, chest heaving like he'd just run sprints. Hands flexing with the effort of not reaching out and touching as you sauntered closer.
"You know..." Soshiro ground out through gritted teeth. "A guy could start feeling real neglected with how much time you've been spending away lately, gorgeous."
He caught the flash of a smirk over your lips out of the corner of his eye and clenched his jaw tighter, fingernails biting into his palms. You always got that little amused quirk whenever he started getting frustrated over lack of sex.
"Maybe if someone wasn't always so impatient about getting me naked and into bed, this separation anxiety wouldn't hit him so hard," you teased lightly.
A muscle in Soshiro's cheek twitched at your taunting tone, heat lancing straight through his core. He jerked his piercing gaze up to pin you with a glare smoldering enough to scorch.
"Don't play coy, babygirl," he growled raspily. "I know you miss feeling me buried deep too, fucking you until you're a whimpering mess beneath me as much as I crave it."
The blatant confession hung heavy in the charged air between you. Soshiro watched hungrily as your cheeks flushed and pulse fluttered in that pale throat of yours. Taking your lip between your teeth in that maddeningly alluring way that always made him want to bite and suck until they were swollen.
God, he needed to touch you. To slake this scorching thirst driving him half out of his mind before leaving for your damn deployment. Soshiro couldn't take being separated from your body for that long without at least one more drawn-out tasting to tide him over.
He was on his feet and stalking towards you before the conscious thought fully formed. You sucked in a sharp breath but held your ground, back stiffening as if preparing for the onslaught of his intensity.
Strong hands gripped your hips with bruising force as Soshiro crowded you backwards until your spine met the wall. His hungry gaze raked over your parted lips, the rapid flutter of your pulse, those dark eyes gone wide with a heady mixture of arousal and trepidation
"Tell me you don't need this too, gorgeous," Soshiro rasped against the tempting curve of your jaw, nipping with just enough delicious sting to make you jerk. "Just one round before you leave me behind again for god knows how long..."
Despite his demanding tone, his touch remained reverent. Palms spanning the dips of your waist, the flare of your hips, committing every inch to rapturous memory. When Soshiro finally claimed your mouth in a searing, lush glide, it took every ounce of restraint not to simply shove you down and take you against the bedroom wall right then and there.
Soshiro's hands roamed over your body greedily as your heated kiss quickly turned frantic. He backed you up until the wall was a solid line against your spine, grinding his painfully stiff cock against your clothed pussy shamelessly.
When you started tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants, he groaned into your mouth - finally about to get some relief for the aching tension that had been torturing him for weeks on end. But then you suddenly wrenched away, leaving him panting harshly.
"S-Stop, Soshiro..." you managed breathlessly, hands braced against his chest. "I have to be on that transport in less than thirty minutes, we don't have time..."
A gravelly snarl ripped free from his throat as you wiggled out of his grip completely. Soshiro's fingers flexed with the visceral need to simply grab you again and take what he so desperately craved one last time before being denied for god knows how long.
But that sane part of him understood your duty couldn't be delayed or ignored no matter how delirious his hunger raged. So he could only watch in agonized silence as you scooped up your bags and moved towards the bedroom door with one last apologetic look over your shoulder.
When you finally slipped out of sight down the hallway, Soshiro's knees nearly buckled. He collapsed back onto the bed, chest heaving, and scrubbed his palms over his face roughly. The scent of your arousal still clung to his skin like a cruel torment, cock throbbing almost painfully where it remained trapped in his pants.
"Fuck!" he growled, fisting his hands in the disheveled sheets as desperate arousal crashed over him in searing waves.
Soshiro's other hand drifted down to frantically work at freeing his leaking cock, desperate for some meager shred of relief from the exquisite ache. His eyes slid shut as he pictured it was your delicate fingers wrapping around his girth instead, mouth going dry.
How many nights had he lain awake consumed by memories of you taking him to the root, inch by slick inch between those plush lips? Or the heat of your silken walls fluttering around him as he bottomed out inside you over and over again?
The first few strokes were hardly enough to staunch the overwhelming tide. Soshiro growled in fresh frustration, pumping his fist up and down his throbbing erection with increasing urgency. But without the blissful completion of actually burying himself to the hilt inside your lush body, it was all just a futile exercise in delaying his torment a while longer.
Suddenly, an idea sparked molten urgency in Soshiro's gut. You had said less than thirty minutes, right? Which meant if he moved quickly and caught you before the transport took off...
Soshiro scrambled up from the bed, tucking himself back into his rumpled sweats hastily. If he hurried, he might still make it to the loading docks in time. One final, searing reunion branded into both your memories before a drought of indeterminate length had to endure.
Soshiro was out the door hardly ten seconds later, practically sprinting down the corridor as he rapidly formulated his impromptu strategy. He knew you'd try to turn him away at first out of duty, but between breathless pleas and that molten smolder he could pin you with...
Well, Soshiro thought with a wolfish grin as the loading ramp came into view, there was no way in hell you'd refuse letting your man indulge in one last soul-searing joining before your separation. Not when he planned to take you apart with such feverish, rapturous worship that you'd simply have no choice but to surrender entirely over to bliss until your imminent departure.
Soshiro spotted you immediately, checking over your field gear amidst the milling soldiers prepping the transport for launch. His hooded gaze raked over the lines of your combat suit hungrily, cock giving a traitorous throb at the memories of peeling you out of that second skin far too many nights ago.
He licked his lips unconsciously, then began prowling forward with unhurried purpose - gait rolling with that innate leonine grace that never failed to raise goosebumps along your arms when he moved with such predatory intent. Soshiro waited until your back was turned before closing the final distance in a few powerful strides.
Without preamble, he banded one thick forearm across the soft planes of your abdomen and wrenched you backwards into the solid wall of his chest. You made a startled noise that barely had time to escape before his mouth sealed over yours in a searing, velvet brand of possession and liquid heat.
Soshiro relished in your instantaneous surrender - the way your lips parted readily for the insistent glide of his tongue and hands fisted in his rumpled shirt with bone-deep yearning. He angled his hips with practiced rolls, pinning you flush against the rigid throb of his cock as a low, thrumming growl echoed between your joined forms.
"I couldn't let you go that easy, babygirl," he rasped against the fevered hollow beneath your jaw, worrying the sensitive flesh with scraping teeth. "Not without giving that beautiful body of yours one more reminder of what it has to look forward to as soon as you come back..."
You whimpered out a breathless sound of pure need, already arching wantonly into his roaming palms as they roved over the taut feminine lines beneath that unforgiving combat suit. Soshiro groaned in approval, tongue chasing the erratic flutter of your pulse before he sealed his mouth back over yours in a lush, demanding glide sure to leave you addled and aching for countless nights to come.
With zero compunction for your imminent departure timeline, he deftly maneuvered you both into the nearest unoccupied utility closet - far too consumed by the intoxicating ambrosia of your rapturous surrender to let any further distractions intervene. Soshiro kicked the door shut behind you with one booted foot and pressed your back flush against the metal surface.
"Gonna fuck you right here, gorgeous," he snarled raggedly, yanking down the zipper of your combat suit with shaking hands. "Gonna fill you up so deep, leave you dripping with my cum while you're out there..."
"Soshiro," you gasped out, clinging to his shoulders as he rucked the fabric of your combat suit down around your hips. "We have to - ngh - to hurry..."
Your words cut off in a keening moan as he hoisted you bodily up onto a nearby storage rack, shoving the bunched fabric of your suit aside to expose your drenched panties. Soshiro licked his lips, pupils blown wide and fixed with laser focus as he tugged the soaked cotton aside and bared your glistening sex to his hungry gaze.
"Oh, I plan to, babygirl," he rasped. "So don't you worry - we'll be quick and dirty, just like old times."
With no further warning, Soshiro buried his cock to the hilt in a single, brutal thrust. Your answering cry was equal parts pained and delirious as he pinned you flat against the wall with the force, hilting himself over and over again in a frenzy of need and wanton greed.
You writhed against him, nails clawing at his back and teeth scoring the thick column of his throat as the rack juddered against the wall with each frantic snap of his hips. Soshiro's own hands were busy groping every lush curve within reach, teeth and tongue marking every exposed patch of skin he could reach while his cock plunged ever deeper inside your tight cunt.
"F-fuck, missed you," he ground out raggedly, fingers digging bruises into the plush swell of your hips as he hauled you against his body in time with each urgent thrust. "Missed this - ah, fuck - s-so goddamn perfect."
The air was a cacophony of panting gasps, breathy whimpers, and the obscene squelch of your bodies colliding in the scant space between. Each brutal impact sent fresh sparks of electricity crackling through your core, drawing your legs tighter around his hips and dragging his mouth back to yours in a sloppy, messy clash.
You both knew you didn't have long. Soshiro's pace turned ever more feverish, the air between your joined forms so hot and heavy it was like drowning in liquid fire. The friction of his rigid cock pistoning inside your fluttering cunt, the bite of his fingers on your hips, the slick glide of your tongues tangling - it was all too much and not nearly enough.
You tore your mouth away to gulp down a breath, eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched as your release built with white-hot intensity. Soshiro took the opportunity to suck a dark, blooming bruise onto the tempting curve of your neck, sharp canines digging in with just enough sting to tip you over the edge.
Your inner walls clamped down with near painful force as orgasm hit like a shockwave. You shuddered violently against him, nails scoring angry red furrows into his biceps as you squirted wetly around his plunging cock. Soshiro let out a garbled moan at the sensation, head thrown back and neck corded with tension.
He fucked you through it, pace growing more and more erratic as your trembling cunt rippled and pulsed around him in a mind-numbing blur of pleasure. You felt his cock jerk and spasm inside you as he bottomed out one last time with a hoarse cry, hot ropes of cum filling you so deep your thighs quaked from the sheer intensity.
Soshiro's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, forehead pressed to yours and palms cradling your face reverently. You were both a sticky mess, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. All he wanted was to bask in the warmth of your embrace a while longer, basking in the afterglow and chasing the lingering tingles still sparking up and down his spine.
It was only the urgent blare of an overhead siren that forced him to let you slip from his arms, reluctantly pulling out and setting you gingerly back onto the floor. You swayed slightly, still woozy and unsteady, and Soshiro grinned crookedly.
"Sorry about that, babygirl," he husked, tucking his softening cock back into his sweats. "Got a little carried away there for a minute."
He reached over to gather the leaking cum seeping down the inside of your thighs, scooping it back inside and working his fingers in deep. You made a helpless sound in the back of your throat as he curled them upwards and rubbed mercilessly against that spongy spot on your front wall, sending a fresh shockwave of pleasure through your sensitive body.
Soshiro withdrew his fingers with a smug smirk and tugged your panties back into place. He watched the way the fabric clung to the slick, puffy lips of your pussy, cock twitching traitorously as the urge to simply rip them away and go for round two reared its head once more.
Instead, Soshiro helped you wriggle back into the bunched fabric of your combat suit. He silently zipped you back up, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to your brow. "You better come back to me safe and sound," he murmured gruffly. "Or I'll come get you myself."
You hummed in agreement, tilting your head up for a final, searing kiss. Soshiro held you close as he savored the plush glide of your mouths sliding together, his tongue coaxing your lips apart and stroking yours with a reverent, tender languidness.
Too soon, the overhead sirens blared louder and louder, and you were forced to reluctantly pull apart. Soshiro's eyes were bright with longing, but his smile was reassuring. "I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, brushing a thumb across the apple of your cheek.
You returned his tender smile and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Love you too," you murmured back, giving his hand a parting squeeze before slipping out the door.
Soshiro watched as you disappeared down the hallway, heart hammering a furious rhythm against his ribcage. Two weeks, maybe three at the most. That's how long he'd have to hold out before the two of you were reunited.
Soshiro licked his lips, recalling the way you tasted - how you felt wrapped so tight around him, and his cock gave another traitorous throb.
Yeah, he was definitely in for a long haul...
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