#the gummy hit as i typed this
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catsandcataclysms · 2 years ago
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On that one post I wrote “me but oppossite” because the other day I Accidentally asked for weed. Yes, entirely accidentally. I just wanted some CBD so I could sleep but because I’m thinkin like, okay this is a CBD store, they probably have tonics and creams and stuff because that’s the most common form of CBD, I want the stuff you can eat, I said “CBD edibles”. Because “edible” is the word for “can eat” but is how you ask for weed. Gummies. The word is gummies. The lady kept acting confused and telling me they didn’t carry delta-8 [legal THC], only CBD. It never clicked for me. My partner had to tell me when I got home why the interaction went so poorly
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vanillarosekiss · 4 days ago
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in bed thinking of how olderbf!Simon would treat you during sex…
warnings: heavy smut with no plot, in media res, afab!reader x simon, praise, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people!), MDNI.
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Thighs spread open as wide as possible to Simon’s request, he held you locked in a mating press, bullying his thick cock into your pretty pussy whilst continuing to praise you as you moaned for him.
“Pretty girl, so good for me” he said, hitting your g-spot over and over again, relentlessly.
“Si.. ” is all you managed to say before he slammed his hips into yours again, making you moan even louder.
“Shh baby, relax. I’ve got you” he reassured you, his hand stroking your cheek as he leant down to save you with a sweet kiss, his other hand reaching down to rub your clit gently as he slowed his pace.
Your hips instinctively bucked upwards as he added more pressure to your sensitive clit, his mouth moving to your neck to continue giving you little kisses.
“Si it’s too much!” you cry, beginning to feel your climax approaching.
“You’re doing so well baby, you can take it” he replies, ignoring your protests.
“I can’t, Simon- I can’t..” you mumble between gasps and moans, his pace starting to fasten and his hands leaving your clit alone now. You shift your hips up, hoping for any type of friction against your nub due to the sudden loss making it feel unbearable. As Simon’s dick buries deeper in you, your walls squeezing tight around him, his neatly trimmed lower pelvis brushed against your clit, giving you slight solace.
“My gorgeous girl, you’re so close” he grunts slightly, his breathing rapid due to his pace.
You feel your stomach turn in delight as you come, walls gummy and tightening around Simon’s cock.
“Simon!” you exclaim his name loudly as you finish around him.
He doesn’t reply, too focused on reaching his own climax now that he’d taken care of his baby.
You feel his dick twitch inside you as his hot spurts of cum paint your walls white. His head tips back as he reaches his peak, groaning through his orgasm whilst his legs buck around your hips.
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I really need a bf… get me an older man rn.
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tteokdoroki · 1 year ago
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yuuta is rly good at fingering u with his long pretty fingers don't @ me 🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️
warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. smut, fingering, praise kink, edging, afab!reader.
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im going to scream and cry !!! yuuta is the type to draw out your pleasure — there’s nothing he loves more than seeing you feel good. it helps him get off faster when your back arches off of his sticky chest and your face is hot or teary eyed. when there’s salt on your skin and your thighs are quivering either side of his lap. his hard cock pressed against the curve of your ass.
yuuta doesn’t even need to get off, he’ll rut against you while you squirm and whimper against his thighs, your head thrown back against his shoulder because you can’t control your pathetic moans.
“do it for me baby, you can cum for me.” his fingers are skilled against your hot cunt, working you open like it’s nothing. he’s able to reach the deepest parts of you when you’re strapped against his lap my his strong arms — finger tips brushing up against your wet walls eagerly. “come on, i know you have it in you… you just can’t help but want to be good for me. you wanna let me see it.” he drawls, breath wet and hot as it cascades over the back of your neck.
he whines almost impatiently, dragging his thumb over your swollen clit in rough shapes. yuuta is mean with his fingers too, just when you think you’re about to hit release. your insides are gooey and pliant around his digits as they rapidly pump into you, hardly giving you a break from the heavy pleasure building up in your lower tummy, and then he stops.
if you whimper and cry about it, yuuta only giggles sweetly — his voice full of amusement as his slender fingers slowly pull out of you. “oh look at you, you’re so fucking wet. s’a wonder you haven’t cum yet, gorgeous.” you can practically feel his grin against the shell of your ear, your hole embarrassingly clenching around nothing. “my poor baby, don’t you want it so bad?”
one second you’re begging, pleading and clawing at yuuta’s hand to stop edging you, for something more — the next he’s bringing a hand down to slap your achingly desperate mound and chuckling breathily at the way your entire body jolts against him, your juices splashing about the place. “do you think you can take more of me? i think you can. it’s cute, how you’re always so eager for me.”
please, then he’s easing three fingers (instead of two) past your sopping entrance, moaning lightly and condescendingly along with you as you struggle to take him. “there we go, i knew you could do it, angel.” yuuta mumbles sweetly, contrasting with the way he so harshly finger fucks you — bearing down harshly on that gummy spot that knocks you over the edge of euphoria. “there it is, my baby’s special spot. that’s where you feel it most, right?”
you’re nodding along dumbly and before you know it, your release is streaming out of you and over his fingers like an erotic river, blood rushing through your ears and a scream of his name tearing in your throat.
but yuuta’s far from done, fucking his long fingers back into you and smearing your orgasm all over your puffy folds.
“i knew you could do it,” he says, his praised coated in a salacious tone that tells you that you’re in danger. “now let’s try that again, shall we? but this time, you’ll take more of me.”
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꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
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secondlina · 3 months ago
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Do you like people who dub your comics with real voices then or do you just not like dubs in general?
At this time, I would prefer if voice actors would not dub my work unless I asked them / am working with them.
Between the AI dubbing, the multiple repost accounts, and a few folks dubbing my comics regardless of whether I say yes or no (I've turned down or ignored most requests and videos still went up) - I've grown cold to the idea. Also, in my experience, they often credit poorly, not including links, not mentioning the series title, only typing my user name in the description as a word without context. A few dubbers also took me agreeing to one comic dub as them being allowed to dub ALL of my comics.
That being said - It's still incredibly flattering when budding voice actors ask, and the love they have for the comic is very touching. I'm exceptionally lucky to have people reach out like this, and probably seem like I'm complaining about something that is actually rad. Because having people want to contribute to your work as an artist IS rad. But when enough people seem to do it as a vehicle for their business rather than out of passion, it's weird vibes.
I hope to get back into a mindspace where it is fun again. I hope to collaborate directly with some dubbers one day, so I can make videos that fit my ideal. And I hope that nobody I turn down thinks it's their fault. There's just too many toads in the well.
I kinda wish wellness pages also didn't repost my fox + crow comics next to ads where they push ad supplement gummy yoga new age bullshit. I've also had some folks clone my instagram account to hit up people for scams. Protecting one's identity as an artist online these days is getting harder and weirder.
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fresalana · 2 months ago
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scooty.
synopsis: all you can do is scoot on caitlins strap.
warnings: sex.
type: blurb
a/n: rushed. i don't really like this but oh well.
you had cum at least five times on caitlin's strap, and you were a mess. your clit was sensitive and achy, your thighs were burning, and a thin layer of sweat was covering to your face and back, causing some of your hair to stick to your skin. but it felt too good to stop. her hands were interlocked with yours, making it easier for you to fuck yourself on her strap. when you started feeling a little too good, you couldn't even bounce on her strap anymore; instead, you started scooting, trying to cum against the best you could.
"come on, scoots. you're tired already?" caitlin asked, smiling, her hands gently squeezing yours. she loved it when you were overstimulated and didn't know what to do. you weren't sure whether to bounce on her strap, scoot, or roll your hips. your movements were quick and jerky, and your breathing came out uneven and shaky. exactly how caitlin liked it.
caitlin could tell you were tired, trying to keep scooting and scooting, wanting to cum again. she pulled her hands away from yours, grabbing your hips and thrusting upward, hitting that gummy spot deep inside your pussy. you were sure she was long past your g spot now.
you had cum for the thousandth time that night, but caitlin wanted you to cum one more time.
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heich0e · 4 months ago
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yuuji's bedtime is 7:30 each night.
there are occasional exceptions like holidays or special events, but as a general rule jin is diligent about making sure his six-year-old is tucked up snug in his little bed by 7:30 sharp so he can get all the sleep he needs to learn and grow and thrive.
sukuna thinks that's all a load of shit.
as such, yuuji's strict bedtime routine is rarely followed when uncle sukuna is tasked with watching him for the night. partially because he thinks it's stupid, and the kid should be allowed to stay up as late as he wants, and partially to spite his older brother for asking him to babysit in the first place.
yuuji hops from one dingy tile to the next on one leg while sukuna surveys the convenience store shelves before his eyes. it's 8:15 now, a full 45 minutes past yuuji's bedtime, and the kid shows no sign of dropping anytime soon—futher proof, sukuna thinks smugly, that all that stuff his brother's always spouting about "childhood development" and "gentle parenting" is a bunch of garbage. he reaches out and plucks a bag of chips off the shelf in front of him, tossing it into the basket dangling from his hand.
"jichan!" yuuji finally lets both his little light-up sneakers hit the floor, looking up at his uncle with sparkling, expectant eyes. sukuna quirks a brow in his direction, waiting for him to continue. "can i show you my dance when we get home?"
"depends," sukuna says, turning and wandering a little further down the aisle. "'s it any good?"
"fushiguro-kun said it was really, really good when i showed him at school!"
sukuna clicks his tongue. "that so?"
"uh-huh!" yuuji replies cheerfully, watching as his uncle tosses a packet of candy into the shopping basket along with the rest of the junk food they'd set out on their after-hours excursion to procure. sukuna has every intention of letting the kid eat as much of it as he wants when they get back to jin's house, which he's sure would appall his older brother.
"if it sucks i'm gonna tell you," sukuna remarks pointedly, grabbing a second pack of the same gummy candy after deciding one was insufficient.
"it doesn't suck!" yuuji insists, trailing along after his uncle as they continue making their way through the store. the young man waves his hand dismissively as he fights back a smirk at the indignation in the brat's voice.
after grabbing a few more items—some chocolate candies, a pint of ice cream, and pack of cigarettes (which even sukuna isn't enough of a degenerate to share with the kid)—the two set off on the short walk back to jin's apartment with their spoils. yuuji is hopping on one foot again, trying to avoid the cracks in the pavement as they make their way home.
sukuna wishes the kid didn't have to stick so close, because he could really go for one of those cigarettes right now, but he resists the urge to fish one out from the pack and resolves to sneak out onto the balcony and smoke one when they get home and he can distract yuuji with the TV long enough to sneak away. in the pocket of his jacket, his cell phone vibrates, signifying a new text, and he digs it out to check the notification.
[new message - 8:22PM] how's babysitting duty?
sukuna smirks a little when he sees your name and message on the small screen in his palm. his eyes briefly flicker up to yuuji, who's wandered ahead a little bit, and then back to the device as he types out his reply.
'he's still alive.'
[new message - 8:23PM] a glowing endorsement
"ojiiiiiichan!"
sukuna glances up from the screen of his phone to see yuuji staring at him.
"what?" he asks his nephew flatly.
the noisy tyke cocks his head to the side. "why'd ya stop walking?"
sukuna blinks, he hadn't noticed he'd stopped while he was texting you.
"and why're you smiling like that?" the kid adds after a moment.
sukuna scowls, tightening his grip on the plastic convenience store bag in his hand in a way that makes it rustle. "'m not smiling like anything."
"you were," yuuji insists as the two start walking in the direction of home again, but this time he falls into step with his uncle instead of racing ahead. sukuna feels his curious eyes on his face as they near jin's apartment.
"stop staring at me," he snaps. "it's rude."
"papa says you're the rudest person he knows," yuuji remarks innocently, blissfully unaware of how scathing the comment really is.
"yeah, well your father's a cun—" he catches himself before he says what he wants to say, quickly (though awkwardly) correcting himself, "—niving guy."
"what's conniving?" yuuji asks.
"it means annoying," sukuna answers with a grunt. it's not true, but that doesn't matter to him.
"jichan, were you talking to a girl on your phone back there?"
sukuna almost stumbles in his surprise, his head whipping to the side to stare at his nephew in shock. "what the hell makes you say that?"
"hell is a bad word!" yuuji points up at his uncle admonishingly.
"i'm a grown up, i'm allowed to say whatever i want," sukuna says with a roll of his eyes. "now back to the question, brat."
"papa says that you're always talking to the girls in your phone when we're eating dinner at the table. it's part of what makes you rude."
sukuna sneers. his brother's always been a narc.
"conniving," sukuna mutters under his breath.
the apartment building is in sight now, and he's grateful because that craving for a cigarette has resurfaced with renewed vigour.
"papa also says that girls don't like ojichan because ojichan makes them cry."
"your papa doesn't know what he's talking about," sukuna grunts, irritated.
"did you make the girl you were talking to back there cry?" yuuji prods again for information.
"no, i didn't," the elder of the duo counters indignantly—weirdly indignantly, if he's being honest.
"good," yuuji says with a firm nod. he starts hopping on one foot again as the two of them approach the main entrance to the building. the lights on his sneakers dance across the pavement in the dark. "if you made her cry that would make me sad for her."
sukuna thinks about you then. you're probably at home now, waiting for him to reply to that last message he didn't get the chance to respond to. you're probably wearing those slippers you like so much, the ones he teases you about every time he comes over. probably in pyjamas already, since you tend to be early to bed. he wonders if you'll still be awake by the time jin gets home to relieve him from his childminding duties. wonders if you'll answer the phone when he calls. wonders if you'll let him come over if he asks.
"yeah," sukuna says quietly, almost unconsciously, as he pulls open the apartment door and allows his nephew to hop across the threshold ahead of him. "that'd make me sad too."
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eoieopda · 4 months ago
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insomniac | ljh (m)
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there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.
summary: it’s 2:00 am, and you can’t turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); there’s a sentence about reader taking “an inadvisable amount of melatonin gummies” — don’t do this! — but they’re not impaired in any way; reader’s internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip i’ve attempted for months. ✰ minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoon™️, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i haven’t written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that i’m exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isn’t incoherent garbage. 😵‍💫 dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.
You should be asleep.
With the day you’ve had, you should’ve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you should’ve stayed that way — unmoving, unconscious — for several hours, at minimum.
If the week’s worth of sleep debt wasn’t exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.
From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, you’ve listened. You’re burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you. 
It’s not, though.
With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: it’s beautiful.
But it’s not enough.
You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely he’s got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time you’ve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths he’s aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, you’d rather die.
Taking his silence as a sign that you’ve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him. 
Nothing.
But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts. 
“Fuck,” you mouth to no one.
It wouldn’t be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.
You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict.  
Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him. 
He’ll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see won’t be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.
It’ll be fine. 
It’ll be fine.
If you go to sleep right now, you’ll get five hours and thirty —
“You haven’t unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,” notes the world’s groggiest voice from over your shoulder.
Jihoon’s lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you might’ve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.
He shifts again. This time, there’s no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isn’t separate from yours at all.
With the distance erased, his face — the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks — can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.
“What are we spinning our wheels over tonight?” He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.
The fact that he can’t see your face doesn’t stop you from frowning. Yet again, you’ve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you don’t need him to. You’ll hold it against yourself — grudge by proxy. 
“I don’t even know,” you admit with a frustrated huff. “There’s nothing coherent going on up there.” You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. “Nothing articulable, just… blender brain.”
“Mmm.”
Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, you’ve learned that you’re incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when he’s got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.
A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, you’re convinced that he’s fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.
“How do we unplug the blender?”
You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isn’t his.
When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. “Hmm?” 
He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, “I can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and —”
The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if he’s conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.
You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, “What’s the second thing?”
His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. It’s simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. It’s more than enough to make you shiver:
“Making you cum.”
But as crazy as that statement makes you, you can’t make yourself act on it.
At any other time, you’d jump on that opportunity — jump on him — in a heartbeat. All you’re able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound. 
Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.
He’s only offering so you’ll stop keeping him awake.
He’s as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.
Burden.
Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. “I love you,” you start. He stills. “But, Jihoon, you’re so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. It’s okay — I’m okay.”
Jihoon doesn’t push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, it’s yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, “Love you,” before relaxing back against the pillows.
Minutes pass.
Maybe hours, for all you know. 
As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know you’re wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what he’s offering.
The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.
Maybe you’d be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just — fucking — sleep.
Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.
You fail.
Maybe, since you can’t sleep, you and your wilted little brain should’ve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu —
“That’s enough,” Jihoon grunts.
The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.
Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but it’s not the sudden moves that shook it loose; it’s the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. It’s the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which must’ve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.
The very best you can come up with is, “You’re awake.”
“So are you,” he retorts without missing a beat.
That face — god, that face — doesn’t budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern you’ve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isn’t even remotely harsh when he continues, “If those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.”
Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoon’s eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.
He speaks when you don’t, hard edges softening slightly. “I can fix it,” he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there. 
Let me take care of you.
That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort you’ve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.
“I have to admit it, though,” Jihoon confesses. “Yours isn’t the only mind that’s restless.”
He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snail’s pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.
“I’ve been holding you for hours now, and all that time —” 
He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasn’t.
“— I’ve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me —”
His touch whispers over your collarbone. It’s the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, it’s not an apology that you’re keeping to yourself but a whimper.
“— or lay you back against the pillows —”
You don’t mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you can’t help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath you’ve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.
Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. “— Take my time, and —”
Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. “Fuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.”
Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry. 
You don’t, thankfully. 
Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling. 
“I want that,” you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, “No, it’s not even want. It’s —” Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. “— need. I need you.”
You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again. 
Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. There’s no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.
Though he’d be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesn’t. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesn’t say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.
Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.
With your chest bare, it’s obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: “Let me take care of you.”
And you do.
You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.
Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You should’ve known this would be the case. 
He said he’d fix it, didn't he? 
And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.
Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, he’s equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, he’s downright celestial — almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.
Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, “You’re beautiful.”
His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesn’t groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward — just barely — and he shakes his head.
“I mean it,” you quietly insist.
Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. “You’re relaxing, remember?”
Though you could double-down, any fight you might’ve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps — which ultimately isn’t much at all — to keep from floating away.
“Bold of you to call me beautiful,” he murmurs against your body, “When you just exist like this.”
You don’t argue. You can’t argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.
With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.
Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he can’t get enough of.
As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.
Eloquent as always, you moan, “Fuuuuck.”
The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.
It’s incredible.
No, it’s fucking perfect.
Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and it’s over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.
Apparently, he’s just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.
Your questions overlap.
“Did you just —”
“— make me cum from this?”
His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, “Oh, shit.” Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, “Goddamn.”
A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know he’s facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but that’s not a conclusion the pair of you can just — leap to. 
There’s simply too much of him to take if he doesn’t fuck you open with his fingers first.
Jihoon shakes his head, as if he’s telling himself no. Like he’s reminding himself of what he promised — or threatened, more like — earlier, that he’s taking his time.
As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldn’t. So, you don’t. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach. 
With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, “You’re perfect.”
Not generally, no.
However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isn’t a battle worth picking. In this moment, you’re willing to entertain the possibility that you’re perfect for him.
A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth must’ve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes he’s lost.
You’d be content to stay this way forever — and likely could, if it came down to it — but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.
Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you — the one you’re still thinking about; the one he’ll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.
“Listen to you,” he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers. 
As if you weren’t already acutely aware of the way you’ve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isn’t enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.
You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesn’t let it affect his pace — just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.
His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. “I think you’ve got another one for me, don’t you?”
Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.
“In fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,” he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. “Think you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.”
You think you’ll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.
When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, it’s not a clap of thunder but a roll — patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does — makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.
Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. It’s anyone’s guess whether you have any bones left. You’re sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoon’s body caging you in.
“Don’t ask me what my name is.” Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, “I do not remember, and I do not care.”
He kisses the temple that isn’t smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. “If you’re spent, I can sto—”
“Don’t you dare.”
The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, you’re sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesn’t. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.
“I’ll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.”
“Easy, tiger,” he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The whole point of this was for you to relax.”
To prove that you haven’t lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely. 
You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, “Jihoon… Please.”
“I’ve got you.” He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. “But I can’t fuck you unless you give my arm back.”
Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if he’s asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.
Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. It’s a sight you’ve seen a thousand times — his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire — yet it’s one you’ll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that he’s never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.
If you’re being honest, that’s one of the things you’ve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; he’s never been caught sweating.
The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when he’s this incomprehensibly hard.
Really, you don’t deserve him.
Nevertheless, you get him anyway. 
Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.
In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you — trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.
“Deep breath,” he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.
It’s good advice — something Jihoon probably should’ve heeded. 
He doesn’t. 
You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, that’s precisely what’s causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.
When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.
To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. “Alright?”
Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, he’ll understand; he always does.
Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch that’s erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.
Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.
To prove it to yourself that you’re not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised — slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body must’ve learned to keep him close.
“Love the way you grip me, but...” Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, “You keep that up, and I’ll cum too soon.”
He’s one to talk.
Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge. 
If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there won’t be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it — to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls — to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you — to feel so fucking full —  for as long as he gives you. 
It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.
“Oh.”
One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.
At least you’re not the only one.
“Fuck, fuck —” 
Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoon’s body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. “— Fuck,” he groans, all the while twitching inside you.
Though he slows, he doesn’t stop. It’s not until he pants, “Kiss me,” that you realize it: Jihoon doesn’t intend to stop.
Neither, it seems, do you.
Maybe you’re greedy. Maybe you’re too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, it’s the way his cock doesn’t soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.
You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. It’s indulgent — messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.
“Can you still speak in sentences?” He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.
Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say. 
“I’m — you’re gonna make me —”
You can’t choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didn’t even know existed; there’s no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.
He’s caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again — hard — and the arms bearing his weight buckle.
Jihoon’s flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.
“What just happened?” He sounds as delirious as you feel. “That was… shit. What did your body just do?”
You have no idea. 
You have no capacity to form any.
All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound — not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.
Eventually, although you can’t imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You don’t see anything that happens next, but you feel it all — the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.
“I’m coming back to clean you up,” he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, “Don’t move.”
I won’t, you think but don’t say.
And you don’t move.
At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.
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svt taglist: @ashonheavenscloud @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @rasparagus @bouclesdefeu @ourkivee @sourkimchi @gyuguys
multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon
also paging the cap gang: @daechwitatamic @yoongukie-ff
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daydreams-after-dark · 5 months ago
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Good things come in small packages
Part 1 | Part 2
Pairing: Mini Han x fem reader
Synopsis: One year ago you purchased a ‘miniature companion’ named Hannie. He’s the size of a Ken doll but alive and horny. But something unexpected happens on your one year anniversary.
Word count: approx 2k
A/n: Hey!!! It's finally here! My Mini Han oneshot (posted in a couple of instalments because I get too excited to share). The idea for Mini Han was born through a conversation with my girl @noellllslut (we always have the most unhinged thoughts). Then I wrote a little "imagining" here (which I’ve incorporated into this fic anyway, so you don’t have to read), which then sparked quite a bit curiosity amongst you sweet/filthy readers. Questions came, and I felt compelled to explore more of this theme.
I hope you enjoy this little fic. It's sweet and smutty, and as I kept writing, I fell in love with our dear y/n and Mini Hannie. I want one for myself tbh.
CW below the cut
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CW: supernatural themes, oral sex, sexual acts, sexual themes, voyeurism
You've had your miniature human, Hannie, for almost a year?! You realize, sitting at your work desk as you look at your desktop calendar. You smile and make a note to organize a celebration for just the two of you, and to buy a cheesecake for dessert. Hannie loves cheesecake. Your smile grows. He always manages to get it all over him, then wants to get it all over you so he can lick it off you.
One year this coming weekend. It feels like time has flown, yet at the same time it feels like he’s been part of your life forever. Your heart bursts as you think back to how it all came to be.
You had been lonely. You'd broken up with your long term boyfriend and was feeling sad one night. So you went online to doom scroll, and online shop. You expected you'd end up down a rabbit hole of cat memes and be $500 down in shoe purchases, but instead an ad appeared on your screen.
"Miniature human companions" it said, with images of very attractive men. Miniature men. Were they human? Couldn't be. Were they robots? Probably. They must be really expensive to make which is why they are so small, you'd decided.
You were intrigued, so you researched the company, finding that this new type of 'companion' utilizes cutting edge technology that simulates actual human behavior and bodily functions.
By 4am you'd chosen your companion. His name was Han. He was adorable and attractive, with fluffy black hair and pouty lips, and from the personality trait notes, he sounded like a lot of fun.
"Pay Now". You can still remember the feeling of excitement that ran through you as hit the button to complete your purchase.
When he arrived, he came in a box with air holes, which you found kind of weird considering he didn't actually breathe oxygen. You set the box on your kitchen table, took a deep breath and lifted the lid. You gasped as you peered inside.
A little man, about the size of a Ken doll, sat on a blanket eating miniature crisps out of a miniature chip bag.
"Oh hello!" he looked up at you. "Are you my Noona?" he waved excitedly.
Holy fucking shit. You almost fainted as you stumbled to sit down on a dining chair.
You knew he was meant to talk, but he just seemed so real as he chewed his food then licked the seasoning off his lips like he could actually taste it. His little chest moved with his breath, like he was really breathing. Could he do everything a human can do? You wondered.
"My name’s Hannie." He said standing up and brushing the crumbs off his trousers.
"Um...I-I'm Y/n..." you stuttered, trying to process what you were witnessing,
"You're really pretty, Y/n." He beamed up at you with a gummy grin.
You prepared him a little space of his own, with a makeshift bed, clothing that you had also ordered from the company you purchased him from, and bought a set of Barbie sized cups, plates and furniture. You even bought him a Barbie Dreamhouse to live in, but he preferred to just climb up your full sized furniture and use that.
You studied the information manual that came with him and learned that he could in fact, experience life just as a human did. He needed to eat, sleep, wash, poop. Oh and he could get erections and ejaculate. Wow!
Over the next weeks and months you'd gotten yourselves into a routine, and became really close. He was your best friend. You did everything together, mostly staying at home. You assumed he was some sort of AI, and that's why you got along so well, but the longer he was with you, the more his own interests came to the surface. Like singing and Anime.
He helped you bake, often getting himself covered in flour and other ingredients. You'd watch movies together. Most nights you'd lay on the couch and he'd lay face down on your chest while you watched your favorites. Sometimes you'd feel him get hard against the curve of your breast, and you'd think inappropriate thoughts about him. You'd grow wet between your legs and wish he was able to touch you.
He loved it when you’d brush his hair with a tiny little hairbrush and sit him on your benchtop in the bathroom when you’re getting ready for the day. You know he loved it when you forgot he was there one time and you took a shower in front of him. He got so hard watching you soap up your body.
Sometimes you'd take him out on a picnic somewhere secluded near the ocean so he could freely move about the picnic blanket without fear of being seen. Or he'd sneak into your work bag and scare the shit out of you when you were working.
In the early days, you'd occasionally go on dates with actual men. Mostly to take your mind of your growing feelings for Hannie. You'd bring them home and fuck them in your bed, knowing he was somewhere watching, listening. You'd imagine him getting hard from your noises, and it made you moan even louder just picturing it. You'd imagine it was Hannie inside you too, pounding hard into your cunt, and making you come on his cock.
He was distant with you in the days after. He’d sit around sulking and pouting.
"What's wrong, Hannie?" You asked him after he’d ignored you for three days.
"Noona... it's just…I get so jealous of them." He burst into tears. "I want to do things like that to you. I want to the be the one who makes you come." He sobbed.
Things changed after that. You no longer went out with other men, and you and your miniature companion began to explore a more physical, more sexual, relationship.
From letting you see each other naked, to mutual masturbation, to eventually touching each other and making each other come.
You soon learned that even though Hannie is small, he is extremely talented with his mouth, and he can make you come harder than anyone had ever before.
One morning he noticed that you were still asleep, and very naked. The way you were laying, legs splayed out looked so inviting to him. You’d kicked your blanket off at some point. He couldn’t help himself.
You woke up to a sensation between your legs, and when you looked down you saw him kneeling between your your legs, using his arms to push your pussy lips open and doing his very best to lap at your clit.
“Hannie?” You whimpered. He stopped for a moment to stand up and wave at you, the entire front of his body dripping with your arousal. “I’ve just found my favorite thing to do!” He said enthusiastically and then he was back to being buried against your pussy.
These days, at night time he’ll climb up onto your chest while you’re lying in bed watching videos on your phone. He still loves to nestle against the bulge of your breasts, especially if you’re in a loose satin camisole, and he’ll slide himself under the fabric.
“What do you want to watch, Hannie?” You’ll ask him.
“Porn!” He’ll answer excitedly. The phone is like a giant screen to him and it’s never long before you feel him shimmying his clothes off and rubbing his little swollen erection against your skin.
He’s such a desperate little thing that you let him do whatever he needs to get himself off. Often, he’ll rub his cock along your bottom lip while he humps your tits, or he’ll scramble to suck on your nipple. He does his best to stretch his mouth around it, while he grinds against you and cumming on your soft skin. Then he’ll pass out right there. Poor little tyke gets himself tired.
Some of the kinkier things he gets you to do include tying him up and edging him until his cock becomes so painfully red and engorged that he’s crying. His naked body is delicious to look at, and you love to run the pad of your index finger over his muscles. He’s perfectly toned, his skin honey brown, and his cock is mouth-wateringly big for his frame.
He’s rendered helpless as you stroke your finger gently up and down his body. Then, using the tip of your tongue, you lick his cock carefully whilst shoving your pinky finger into his mouth.
There are times when you’ll dress up in lingerie covered in buckles and straps and he’ll climb up your body like he’s doing some kind of adventure hike. He gets so sweaty and very hard as he explores the terrain of your body.
He really is the perfect companion.
You are broken from your thoughts by your alarm signaling it's time to go home from work, and you hurry home to see your Hannie.
_____________
"Fuck! Hannie! Please... need to come...need one more...please. Don't stop." You pant. It's later that evening, and you're on the verge of your third orgasm with Hannie between your thighs sucking expertly on your clit. He's got your lips spread open as far as he can manage, and he's grinding against your core seeking his own release. Inside your pussy you've got your vibrator egg on full intensity. "Yes!!! Yes...coming!!!" You cry as you arch off the bed as you come all over him.
He quickly climbs up your body, almost slipping off because he’s covered in so much of your cream, and kneels on your chest to pump his cock until he’s spurting cum onto your tongue.
“Tastes so good, Hannie.” You show him your empty tongue, but he’s already collapsed across your body.
You clean him up and put him in his striped pajamas, before you both nestle into bed. You’re used to him sleeping on the pillow next to you now, although it took you a while to stop worrying you’d roll on him in the night.
“Noona? Did you know that tomorrow it’ll be one year since I came here?” He says sleepily.
You roll onto your side and smile. “Yes, actually I do, honey. Have a think about what you’d like to do to celebrate, okay. Anything you want."
He nods. “Yeah, I’ll think about it. But just so you know, it’ll involve me being buried in your pussy.”
————-
Han laid back on the pillow. What would he like to do to celebrate? He’d love to celebrate by being inside you. Properly. Fully.
He wishes he could do the things he'd seen those men you’d do to you all those months ago. To pin your legs up and fuck you so hard the bed would shake. He takes his mind back to when he’d hide on your shelf and watch, fucking into his hand and holding back tears of despair.
What would it be like to bend you over and fuck you from behind? What would it even be like to fuck you at all? He wants to know so bad.
But he does have a special relationship with you, he supposes. Not every guy has to stretch his mouth around a nipple or clit like he has to. Can those men be covered head to toe in your juices? Or lay completely across the bulge of your boob. No. They can’t. Only he can.
He pouts to himself.
He knows he’s got it good, you are his everything. But as he lays on the pillow next you and closes his eyes, he wonders if he’s enough for you? Could you give up real men forever, with real sized cocks that can stretch you out and fill you deep? Would you be okay with never having a boyfriend you could take out in public, or take to family events, or be seen with?
Could you settle for him? A miniature version of a man?
He sighs. "Goodnight, Noona. Love you." He whispers as he leans over and gives your giant lips a kiss.
"Goodnight, my sweet Hannie. I love you too." you reply sleepily.
As he drifts off to sleep he wishes what he always wishes. That he could be human sized and be with you like a proper human.
-----------
The morning sun peeks through your window, landing on your face and causing you to stir. You groan and try to stretch, but a heaviness across your middle keeps you in place. You peer down to find a man's arm wrapped around you, snuggling you tight.
Fear courses through your body, and you scream as you fling the arm off and jump out bed. You grab your lamp, ready to hit the intruder.
"Noona?" The man lifts his head, his dark locks falling around his face.
Your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see the confused look on his face. "Hannie!?" You choke, hands poised to strike.
"Noona? What are you doing?" he peers down at the pillow his head had been resting on, and then down the bed toward his feet. "Why is your bed so small?"
"Hannie?" You whisper, lowering the lamp, letting it drop to the floor.
"Why is everything so small? Wait. Why am I naked? Noona, have you been playing with me in my sleep?" He looks up at you confused and worried. "Noona, why are you looking at me like that?"
His eyes land on his pajamas, torn to shreds next to him. He picks up the scrap of fabric that was his pajama top, and his eyes widen. "Why are my clothes so tiny?"
"Hannie," you take in the man before you, naked and taking up most of the bed. "You're big."
To be continued…
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @chuuchuu1224 @fun-fanfics @rhonnie23 @jisunglyricist @strayywayy @armystay89 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @mylittleponeypinkrosieposie @kyunchoni @justforreaders @melochacco @scenuniverse @oddracha @ismokeeweed @galaxycatdrawz @jiminssluttyminx @teddy-stay @kayleefriedchicken @imperfectlyperfectprincess1
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rationaliity · 7 months ago
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desperate | wolf ! gallagher x f. bunny ! reader
oh god WHAT is wrong with me ?? your faithful servant, miya. tags : hybrid gallagher & reader, power play, leg humping, begging / whining / crying, finger fucking ( this is in like every fic of mine can you tell i have a thing for fingers deep - nvm ) dirty talking, breeding kink, unprotected sex, degradation ( he calls you desperate and a bitch once each ) fingers in mouth, desperation, being horny on main honestly, and an improper way of drinking soulglad, female anatomy, feminine petnames used
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" h-hah- please, " you begged, grinding helplessly against gallagher's leg, your clothed little cunt pressed against the maroon fabric of his pants, your hands holding onto his thigh garter for support.
gallagher knew exactly what you had wanted this entire time, he was just choosing to ignore you on purpose. and what did you did instead of being a good little girl ? you decided you wanted to be a selfish, horny brat that couldn't even keep your hands to yourself. you'd been touching him all day, your lips on his neck, your fingers playing with his loose, wrinkled tie, your body pressed against his, and he could feel the warmth of your pussy against his thigh, making him growl under his breath.
" if you're gonna be that fuckin' desperate, doll, then just hump my leg like a good little bunny, " he'd told you, his voice venomous as he had watched you hesitate for a moment, before dropping down slightly onto your knees, pressing yourself against his leg as he rested against the bar, your cute face twisted in pleasure as you finally got some type of friction exactly where you had wanted it.
his hand gently caressed the side of your face, his thumb ghosting over your pretty bottom lip, before pushing into your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue. you sucked diligently on his finger, your lips wrapped around it lewdly as you batted your long lashes up at him, your long bunny ears flopping a little as you tilted your head, innocently aware of what you were doing to him. his free hand reached for something on the counter, popping the tab of a can of soulglad with experienced precision.
" open, " he commanded, yet he didn't give you time to actually listen to him before his thumb in your mouth forced your mouth open, hooking into the soft, gummy part below your tongue. you stuck your tongue out, your eyes locked onto his tired, downturned eyes as he poured the carbonated drink into your waiting mouth. no matter how fast you swallowed the sweet drink, it still spilled out of your mouth onto your bodies below, absolutely ruining your shirt and getting his pants wet, too. " so messy, all f'r me ? " gallagher teased as he sat the can back down on the counter, watching you as you nodded, your wet and sticky lips wrapping around his thumb again, sucking at his finger before biting on it gently, your teeth grazing against his calloused skin.
" what do you think you're doing ? " he snarled a little, pulling his thumb out of your mouth so that he could grab your chin, forcing you a little closer to his face as he bent down to get in your face. you backed down almost immediately, whimpering softly underneath his gaze. " what ? 'fraid of the big, scary wolf now all of a sudden after you already provoked him ? i haven't even fucked ya yet 'nd you're forgettin' your manners. bad little bitch bunnies like you don't even get to hump my leg. "
gallagher grabbed you by your hair, forcing you off of him and up onto your feet as he picked himself up off of the counter. he spun you around, forcing you to bend over the bar, your ass pressed against his crotch as he grinded against you, making sure that you could feel how excited you made him as your little bunny tail wagged happily. " this what'cha want so much, huh ? you want me to fill ya up ? get ya all big 'nd round with my pups ? "
as he spoke, his free hand worked to pull your pants off of your body, causing you to gasp as the cold air hit your warm, wet pussy. his fingers dipped into your folds for a moment, testing your readiness, earning a whimper from your pretty lips, which turned into a sharp gasp as his grip on your hair tightened, forcing your head back. slick coated his fingers as he fucked them into you, your whimpers for more falling on receptive ears. " m-more.. plea- please- "
" so fuckin' desperate, " gallagher mumbled under his breath, his hand unbuckling his belt, barely shrugging off his pants just enough that he could pull his hard cock out. there was no time to take off clothes, not when you needed him so badly you were practically on the verge of tears. " gonna give ya what'cha want, 'kay ? gonna fuck this pretty little pussy until you're so sore. "
you knew he'd make good of this promise, too, as he pushed into you with such force that you cried out, your legs shaking underneath you, your hands grabbing at the edge of the counter for support as he fucked his cock into you mercilessly, not caring if his size was too big for you. he filled you up completely, the head of his cock hitting the entrance to your womb with each snap of his hips as he bullied his cock into you.
" n-nghh, it- it's s'good, " you moaned, your ass bouncing back against his hips, bouncing in tandem with each thrust so your hips met with each precise thrust. his forced your head back with his hand in your hair, making you look up at the ceiling, your eyes rolling slightly. you were his to use, you were gallagher's to fuck his pups into until you were both satisfied. at this point your feet had been completely taken off of the ground, the only thing keeping you up was your grip on the table and his body pressing against yours.
" god, you're so fuckin' tight, " gallagher hissed out, his other hand against your hips, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your skin as he held you against him, making sure that he bottomed out inside of you with each thrust before pulling all the way out and thrusting it all back in. " you want my pups, yeah ? gonna let this dog fuck a few cute little pups into your needy little cunt ? you're gonna look so cute pregnant. "
you whimpered, drool dripping down your chin as he fucked you dumb, feeling that pressure build within your lower tummy, becoming far too much for you to try to ignore anymore. you needed to cum, and you needed to cum now. " c-cum- gon' cum- please- " you begged, and he knew that you couldn't hold on much longer, but neither could he.
" come on, then, " gallagher commanded, groaning as you clenched around him, your body working with his to bring both of you to orgasm at the same time. you were gripping onto him like a vice, and there was no way he was going to be able to pull out. he was going to fill you up, fill you entirely with his cum. " 'm gonna cum, doll. get ready, i'm gonna make you a mama, " he grabbed your hips with both of his hands, forcing you down completely onto his length as he fucked you through his orgasm, his cock throbbing as he painted your inner walls with so much cum that it spilled out around his cock still inside you and onto the floor below.
" such a good girl for me, " gallagher whispered, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss onto the nape of your neck, his body pressed against yours completely. " we can go one more round, yeah ? gotta make sure it takes. "
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donatellawritings · 8 months ago
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you should totally do boxer!rafe with shy!reader.
love you stinka 😘
love you more <3
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you were as shy as they came, your palms hummed with nerves as they glazed over with clammy sweat, eye contact made your tummy swirl with anxious butterflies, and your chewed on your bottom lip or the smooth gummy inside of your cheeks, more often than not. so, it was pretty routine for people’s eyes to widen in obnoxious shock when you decided to take up being a ring girl — it was fast money that paid your bills and would get you through finishing college. although, you weren’t all too familiar with the sport of boxing, you figured that at least the cute outfits, no matter how skimpy they were, and the caked on makeup and bombshell hair could help you get out of your introverted shell.
you couldn’t help but blush, each time you strutted your tight little ass into the ring, your perked up ears not missing the inappropriate hoots and whistles that came your way. your plump lips swelled into a beaming smile as made your way around the ring, you tiny hot pants wedged between your soft ass cheeks and swollen tits pushed up in your skintight crop top, your pedicured feet slightly aching in your elongating shiny black pumps. before returning back to your ringside seat, your doe eyes flickered over to rafe cameron, the up and coming boxer from kildare island who seemed to have each and every girl wrapped around his bruised fingers.
you licked over your swollen lips as he sent you a wink, the blood that dripped from his gashed eye rolling down his structured cheekbone as he smirked at you. you couldn’t ignore the subtle ache that pulsed between your oiled and shiny thighs as he flexed his broad shoulders, before sinking his sharp teeth down into his dark red mouth guard.
“damn girl, y’look good!” a spectator whistled, breaking you from your trance as you exited the ring, prancing over to your cushioned folding chair, flipping your shiny tousled hair over your shoulder.
boxing had never been your thing, but you had to admit that there was payoff when it came to the eye candy you were subjected to watch, day in and day out. however, there was an unspoken rule that came with your job: do not date any of the fighters — it would make things muddy and far too complicated. i mean, what good could come from adrenaline-filled men who fucked as many girls as they won championships?
so, you took rafe’s lustful gaze with a grain of salt — you wouldn’t subject yourself from having to deal with the inevitable heartbreak that would come from having intimate dealings with a man, like rafe cameron.
pulling up the hem of your uncomfortably clingy top, you let out a small huff and you mushed your sticky, gloss-coated lips together. you loved your job, it gave you an escape, an in to be the girl who wasn’t pathetically timid and shy, to the point where you were flustered when holding even the most basic of conversations. yet, you still found yourself a bit secluded from your coworkers, and it wasn’t because you didn’t want to make friends — your coy nature and sheltered upbringing just made it that much harder for you.
taking a small breath, your swollen tits expanded against the fabric of your top as you took in the sound of rafe’s gloved fists cracking into the face of his pathetic opponent. you quickly got lost in the roaring crowd as rafe sent a blood-curdling punch across his weakened counterpart’s jaw, sending the ill-fated man to the floor as rafe cockily flexed his muscles, sticking out his blood-coated tongue as his bright pink lips stretched into a cocky grin.
𝜗ৎ
rafe loved the spotlight, he craved it — to hear people scream and clamor for him was such an aphrodisiac for him. you see, he was no stranger to being fawned over, he’d developed quite the reputation for being a hit-it-and-quit-it type of guy, a one-time lover that you could never seem to forget, or want to forget. but, he too, had his demons. rafe was hopelessly tethered to violence — it was the only fix that truly allowed him to express himself, in a way that thoroughly satisfied him and curbed his anger. i mean, shit, the young man fought so much, he figured he’d might as well get paid for it, not that he needed it, being the heir to his father’s hefty trust fund.
now dressed in light fresh sweats that loosely hung off of his hips, rafe watched with hooded eyes as the ring girls made their way through the dimmed halls — he’d fucked majority, if not, all of the girls, but you, you were new and fresh as a daisy— this was only your second fight. he could smell how nervous you were, a little shaky thing, but oh so fuckin’ pretty.
you just needed a little … conditioning. but, that was okay, rafe could help with that, no problem.
“hiii, rafe,” the cluster of girls sang, each of their enhanced lips spreading into ditzy smiles as rafe entered their line of vision. licking over his lips, rafe nodded in return, before flicking his fingers towards one of the girls.
leaning his head down, rafe sighs with feigned interest in the bottle blonde who stood cheerily before him, “y’wanna help me out, doll?” rafe smiled, watching as the blonde furiously nodded, before he could finish his sentence, “y’so sweet — uh, tell me, where’s that pretty spanish girl who works with you, huh? the real quiet one?” he questions softly, his eyes low as the blonde swallows down her jealousy, before taking a quick breath. rafe could smell the envy that loomed over the blonde — she was a quick fuck from about three months ago, who just couldn’t seem to take the hint.
“um, sh-she shouldn’t be that far behind — is there anything else i can do for you?” the girl answers swiftly, her bright eyes wide with hope as rafe’s eyes fall on you.
softly nudging the blonde’s chin, rafe maintains his million-dollar smile, “nah, thank you though, sweetheart,” rafe declines, his bruised and sprained knuckles stretching against his skin as he makes his way over to you.
a pretty little thing, like you, should never walk with her head down.
breathing out a sharp whistle, rafe can’t help but breathe out a laugh as you flinch, your doe eyes wide as you finally make direct eye contact with the tall man. you were way shorter than him, and he couldn’t help but steal a shameless glance at your deliciously pushed-up tits. rafe’s strained blue eyes didn’t miss the way your wiped the palms of your hands against the skimpy fabric of your tiny black shorts.
“y’don’t need to be scared of me, princess — just wanna properly introduce myself, yeah?” rafe coos, cocking his head to the side with parted lips as your throat bobs with a light swallow, before your dolled-up hair bounces with a subtle nod. “ah, gonna have to break you out of that little shell of yours, yeah?” he comments, gently nudging your chin as your swollen lips part with blushed cheeks.
with a low and mousey tone, you allow your name to roll off of the tongue, your eager bambi eyes set on rafe’s bloodshot blues, “i just, i am not used to putting myself out there,” you force out a laugh, your skin-hugging attire suddenly becoming too tight for your comfort as you find yourself fiddling with the hem of your ridiculously cropped top.
with a tilted head, rafe drinks in every part of you. from your introverted nature and nervous quirks, to the slight sing of an accent that coats your every word.
he couldn’t ignore the way his blood rushed to his cock as you crumbled under his unwavering eye contact, you were new territory for him and he needed to experience you in your entirety.
leaning in a bit closer to you, rafe allows his soft lips to ghost over yours, “want you to stick with me, princess — gonna have to show you how the world works,” he decides, lightly nudging your jaw, before pulling away from you and making his way back to his locker room.
you were left a blushing and slightly embarrassed mess as you found yourself mindlessly following rafe’s path — each and every one of your inhibitions dissipating with each step you pump-clad feet took.
little did you know just how underprepared you were for rafe cameron’s world.
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delulustateofmind · 6 months ago
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Ride it (Drabble)
Summary: Riding Azriel, like the filthy degenerate you are 😎
Warnings: Pure FILTH, no plot just smut, overstimulation, MEAN!Azriel, light bondage/shadow play, degradation, praise (if you squint), crying, if I miss any lemme know.
WC: Idk maybe like 1k, very short.
Also unedited because I am embarrassed that I even wrote this.
A/n: Thank you all for the love on the Eris fic, also this is unedited because I was lowkey embarrassed that I wrote this. ANYWAYS have fun :)
*** Minors Do not interact under the cut ***
Oh, how you ended up in this situation. The utter regret you felt last night for even drinking so much, that this morning, Azriel, your typically wonderful mate had you riding him like your life depended on it.
As the cocky bastard leaned back against the headboard with a bored expression on his face. This has been going on for the past hour since the two of you woke up. Your hands are tied behind your back using his shadows. A few of his shadows were constantly flicking and nipping at your perky nipples. His thumb lazily flicked your clit with his piercing gaze never leaving yours as you sat on his lap, his cock nestled within you as you tried your best to rock your hips. Your legs were sore from keeping them wide for so long as you used them to bounce on his fat cock. One of Azriel's scarred hands caressed your torso and then nestled onto your hips, pressing his cock deeper inside you as he lowered them.
"Got to take it all f'me baby," in a lazy tone. Earning another mewl from your lips as it pressed deeper inside your core. The sweat formed on your face as you whimpered, rocking your hips in rhythm with his. The way you would beg, please, please-I can't anymore.
Azriel would bite his lip from groaning, the way his cock would press into your gummy walls. The fucked out look you had on your face as he would gently rock your tired hips for you. Your gaze was now blurry from how much you've come the past hour or perhaps from all the tears covering your eyes.
Azriel was the type of male who loved to push you to a breaking point, loved to go past your limit till you were in tears. Of course, you both had a safe word, but you both knew you enjoyed him torturing you like this. Torture was one of his jobs after all.
"Is that all you can fit, baby? Oh you love how mean I am to you, don't you? That's so sick baby" He chuckled darkly, loving how your body would tremble as he would angle his hips so that when you bounced on his cock it would hit that sweet spot. Every. Single. Time. The way you panted and whimpered from the relentless abuse on your pussy.
"S' big, I can't fit it all love" Of course you could. He just made you by pressing your hips down earning a loud gasp with an O on your lips as he bottomed out. Creaming on his cock, Azriel bit his lip, his nails digging into your soft hips leaving crescent markings.
"Already fucked you dumb, slut? Can't even look at me in the eyes?" He mocked you with a grin, his voice rough and deep. When you would stop moving, Azriel's hips would move, keeping a rhythm, each move strong and calculated. Each time his cock bullied your sweet spot, you would mewl and cry out his name.
"Ah-too deep-Azzy" Moans relentlessly escaping your mouth, like you were confessing to every sin. How his shadows would slither around your body, reaching your clit and mercilessly playing with it until you would cry out. Creating yet another creamy mess.
"You're so tight," As Azriel groaned with a taunting grin on his face. He stopped moving his hips and using his hand held your chin firmly so you had to look at him. In your haze, you could see a smirk on his lips, his tone full of dark amusement. "Now, I want you to ride me like your life depends on that. Got it?"
Moving his hand from your chin to your hair as he tugged to expose your neck. Licking a wet stripe down it. You moved your hips in rhythm, the wet mess below you sticking to your thighs. His moans as you would take every inch of him inside you. Your legs quivering like his cock inside your pussy. His dark brows would furrow together as he held back from moving in rhythm with you.
"Cum for f'm-" He managed to groan out huskily as you moved your hips faster. Your gaze is set on the ceiling. "Oh fuck....Azriel...I'm going to...ah, oh gods" You were desperately trying to hold it all together, how could you not be a mess with your mate bullying your poor cunt like this? His load filled deep within you, the hot sticky ropes filling your cunt to the brim where he could see the white circle at the base of his cock.
"A reward, for my little whore, you don't mind me fucking that cum deeper in you, do you?" Azriel panted as you could feel him hardening yet again inside you as you fell onto his chest. "Don't worry baby, I'll do all the work this time."
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l0velysmut · 1 year ago
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Is it ok if you do Neteyam X Metkayina!Reader with breeding kink?
neteyam x metkayina!reader ꧂
contains: aged!up neteyam, p in v, breeding kink, fluffy ending, neteyams literally perfect.
wc: 1.4k unedited
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“Ugh, fuck!” He growls, drilling his length in and out of your tight hole. “Gonna fill this pussy over and over again until you’re all swollen with my baby. Can’t wait for you to be a mother, fuck, you’ll look so pretty… So fucking pretty.”
You moaned, one hand entangled with his braids while the other scratched at his shoulder. You could barely think straight; every time he opened his mouth to speak, nothing but pure filth fell out of it, causing your pussy to tighten around his cock. You could feel every vein, every throb, and you could almost feel every small bioluminescent freckle that was littered all over his cock.
His hips snapped against yours, his thighs hitting yours as he pushes them up against your chest.
Your mind was so foggy from how many times he had made you cum. He had said that you would only get pregnant if you came a few times which you knew was a complete lie, but you wanted to keep your mate satisfied.
“I’m gonna cum again.” He huffs, glancing down at where you two were connected, frustrated when he saw his own seed from the last couple rounds spilling out. He didn’t think too much about it, though, because he knew he would be able to fill you up again. “Fuck, I’m cumming!”
His thrust never slow or stop, and his hips never stutter, they just keep going at their relentlessly fast pace. The feeling of your gummy walls squeezing the cum out of his cock made his eyes roll back as he spilt his load deep inside of you, only then did his hips still. He kept his dick all the way inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix as more and more of his cum sloshed around inside of you.
He had came so many times inside of you, you could almost taste the saltiness of his cum.
Your legs shook in his grip, thighs pressing together, though it did nothing to keep him from pounding you.
Eywa, he couldn’t wait for you to get pregnant and for you to officially make him a father. He’d been dreaming about this for too long. Every night, he’d dream about your life together with a child. A type of child no one’s ever seen before.
A child mixed with omaticaya blood and metkayina blood. A child who could have your skin but his eyes, or your eyes and his skin. A child that everyone would admire and appreciate.
“T-Teyam..” You hiccup, rubbing his shoulder instead of scratching at it. “Please, can we take a break.”
He stares down at you, and is in shock of your beauty for a moment. The way your curly hair was all frizzy around your head like a halo, and the way your teal skin was flush with a tint of red made his head spin. There’s no way he could possibly stop breeding you now. Not when you looked so pretty.
“Lemme fill you to the brim one last time.” He says, pulling out only halfway. “One last time, yawne, I promise. Then we’ll stop, okay?” He takes his sweaty hand off the underside of your thigh, and holds your chin, forcing you to look at him.
“Okay..” You say, and he smiles at you.
“That’s my good girl.” He leans down and presses his lips against yours in a fiery kiss filled with nothing but desire.
You melt into the kiss, but he catches you off guard when he begins to thrust into you again, causing you to whimper and throw your head back.
You could feel your limbs shivering and shaking, and you could feel your pussy convulsing around his cock with each thrust.
“You like being my good girl, huh? Letting me use you like this, letting me breed you.” He chuckles when you clench around him, his words effecting you more then you could ever imagine.
The word ‘breed’ made your toes curl and your back arch, creating goosebumps that littered all over your skin. You moaned and whimpered, tingles running up and down your body as you felt another harsh orgasm washing over you like a wave on the beach.
“Ah, fuck, taking me so well. So, so well, baby, such a good girl.” He slows his hips, allowing you to ride out your orgasm, but a needy whine leaves your lips and you hips buck up into his.
“What is it, baby? Use your words.” He says, his hips coming to a halt as he strokes your cheek.
“D-Don’t stop,” You whine. “Please don’t stop, I want you to fill me again. I wanna baby, please! I want you.. to breed me.”
Yours words make something boil inside of him, and his thrusts become harsher. You moan and a small smile rests on your hips as he pounds into you. He noticed the small smile and groans.
“This what you wanted? You wanted me to fuck you like an animal and breed this pussy? Huh?” He says, flipping you over on your stomach and slapping your ass. He pushes your thick tail towards the side, giving him a perfect view to your puckered hole.
You can’t physically bring yourself to reply with words, so you just moan in response, the new position allowing him to hit your g-spot every time he thrust into you.
“You’re doing so good, baby,” He says, rubbing the part of your ass that he had just marked with a red hand print. “Such a good girl, taking me and my cum so well.”
“Teyam!” You moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your back arched into the floor, your tits squished against it. “G-Gonna- Gonna c-cum!”
“Yeah, cum for me,” He groans. “Milk my fucking cock.”
Your thighs shake and yet another orgasm hits you. If it wasn’t for his strong grip on your hips, you would’ve fallen flat on the ground, but he pulled your ass up to him, continuing to pound until he began to moan loudly.
“Shit! Can’t wait to have a whole litter running around here, gonna fill you up with so many babies, people are gonna be so sick of us.” He says, then gives one last hard thrust before cunning inside of you. His cock pulsated and twitched as his tip spilled inside of you for the last time tonight.
He slowly pulls out, and watches in aggravation as your hole pushes out his seed. He pushes his finger into your hole, curling his fingers to make sure his cum stayed inside of you.
You breathed heavily against the floor, and your hips fell to the ground, your body laying completely flat.
And athough he was just as overstimulated as you, he found the strength in himself to pick you up bridal style off the floor and bring you towards your bed which was a thick, yet comfortable, woven mat on the floor with two pillows that the scientists (that you didn’t really like) had provided for your shared home.
He places you down and lays next to you, pulling you into his chest, not bothering to clean up your pussy since he wanted it to take. He pulled the thin sheet over your sweaty bodies, and kisses your forehead.
“You did so good for me, yawne.” He whispers, and you hum, wrapping your arm around him.
“Can’t wait for us to have our own little family. You’re gonna be such a good mama, and I’m gonna be there for you every step of the way.” He says, making you open your eyes and look at him with a smile and heated cheeks.
“If you have any weird food cravings, I’ll make it for you. If you are sore, I’ll give you a massage. Anything that you need, anything at all, Ma’Y/N, I will provide for you.” He holds your hand and kisses it, looking into your eyes lovingly before he brings his hand to your cheek and leans his face to yours.
He kissed your lips, and when you two pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours.
“I love you, Y/N.” He says to you, and you say it back, knowing that it was the truth. Ever since you two laid eyes on each other when he and his family first arrived, you knew there would be something between you two forever.
You grab your kuru and he’s quick to grab his. You both watch as the lilac tendrils of both of your queue’s wrap around each other, connecting every single bit of your souls together.
You both sigh happily and eventually fall asleep in each others embrace
a/n: i hope this was good enough cuz idk if i like this or not 😭😭
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multiwreckedmess · 1 month ago
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Kinktober Day 20
Prompt: Aphrodisiac Pairing: roommate!Wooyoung x fem!reader WC: 5.4k Summary: Someone needs to put a parental block on Wooyoung’s browser. Or cut his credit card. (A part 2 to Feb.Filth.Fest)
This is a work of fiction, it does not represent Wooyoung or any Ateez member. On top of this it is an 18+ work. For my comfort and boundaries please if you are under age do not interact with this.
I feel the need especially with “rougher” prompts like this to put the disclaimer - fanfic should NOT ever be used as a guide to relationships or sex. ESPECIALLY SEX. Again, it’s fiction. Stuff gets glossed over for the sake of a good story. Please PLEASE please again, not fact, not a guide, just a fantasy.
Additional TW/CW below the cut.
TW/CW: I would classify this as dubcon as TECHNICALLY the reader is under the influence unknowingly of said aphrodisiac. Everyone in this is having a good fun time and it is merely a catalyst but still, I feel that needs to be a warning itself. Additional warnings are: bodily fluids, so much unprotected fucking, lots of pet names and degrading names used both towards reader and wooyoung (most obnoxious is the amount I’ve chosen to use “Wooyoungie” so be warned). reader body parts described as fem, also addressed as “girl” a couple of times. Mostly just plain ol’ sloppy sex.
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 Wooyoung barely peaks over the edge of his phone screen as he hears the slap of a bag against the coffee table.  “Jung Wooyoung-”  “OOoh using my full name today are we?”  “JUNG WOOYOUNG,” you start again, louder and angrier. “After last time you really think another bag of these godforsaken things was a smart investment to spend your refund on?”  Wooyoung fights the tug of a sly grin forming at the corners of his mouth. “What about that wasn’t a good time? You seemed to have a good time.”  Sucking your teeth you glare at him. “Something about walking in on my roommate coated in his own cum soaked boxers, babbling about how he was dying, left a sour impression on me. Could you imagine that?”  “Hot,” he gives into the grin, a small puff of a chuckled exhale escaping his nose.  You roll your eyes, “you’re a fucking gremlin. Get rid of them, in the trash or give them to your friends. I’d say get rid of them however you want but-” you see his eyes twinkle mischievously and you nod. “Exactly. So, trash or friends. Not food for Wooyoungie. Not again.”
 To his credit, the bag disappears the next day, almost as though it’s evaporated into thin air, and the whole threat of a repeat incident starts to slip your mind. It’s completely forgotten as you haphazardly plunder Wooyoung’s side of the cupboards looking for an afternoon snack. Several weeks of aspirational grocery shopping left your side of the cupboard bare of easy dopamine hits. So when the 4pm slump came around, each week it got harder and hard to fight. That’s how you found yourself digging through his stash of popcorn and gummies of all shapes and sours. A desperate measure for a desperate person. That’s when your fingers brush against a small twisted up bag of half melted gummies seemingly forgotten at the back of the stash. Surely Wooyoung had forgotten about them, the lump of coagulated colors meshing into a mystery kaleidoscope of flavor.
 You try to only eat a few but the way they’re melted together and their sweet fruity floral flavor you end up finishing the bag mindlessly. Which is only a problem for the theoretical goal of eating less sugar. Not a real problem, a pretend problem. Luckily it provides just the buzz of sugar and serotonin to propel you through the last hours of your day.
 As you type your toes tap. Must’ve been some preworkout gummies, jitters passing through you like caffeine. Your stomach twists but it’s just about 5pm and you’re almost done with your essay so you power through, blinking to force your focus. You can barely tell how you’re twisting in your seat, thighs plastered together as you start to sweat.
 When did it get so warm? You try to breathe deeply to release the tension in your chest. Why did it feel like you were going to explode, as though you’d forgotten to breathe? Mouth dry, your gut burns and twists. It’s almost like you need to use the bathroom, almost. But you’re so thirsty. There’s no way you need to use the bathroom, you’re parched.  The whole apartment smells like Wooyoung. Like warm soil and vanilla and musk. In your time as friends and apartment mates it’s grown comforting and safe. It’s like an easy spring day cuddled up to a lover. What you wouldn’t give for one of those now. Cuddling and pressing together, just cold enough that keeping as tight to each other as possible was the best way to fight the elements. How nice it would be to put your nose in the crook of Wooyoung’s collar and breathe him in, scent mixing into the wool.  No. No more of that. Your core aches in need. No more daydreaming, especially about that brat. None.  Chugging a glass of water in the kitchen you’re still insatiable, toes tapping against the linoleum anxiously. When would Wooyoung be home? Do you have time for a quick moment alone? You hadn’t had that sort of “me” time in a bit so maybe that would help. Without thinking too much of it your shove your hand in your pants, fingers gliding between your folds. You’re already soaking through your underwear as you rub against your clit. It takes maybe a minute before you’re leaning into the side of the counter, knees knocking together as you cum. It feels good but another would feel even better.
 The apartment smells like that day, or the aftermath of that day, as Wooyoung swings the door open. Floral with a raw musky edge pervading the air. The faint electrical buzz of something vibrating perking his ears.  “Wooyoung,” you whine, still hidden from his view. “Wooyoung you didn’t throw them out.”  Instead of going straight to you, to the living room, or even to his room, Wooyoung goes to the kitchen trash, an empty plastic bag sitting on the counter. “You’ve been raiding my snacks I see.”  “You didn’t throw them out,” you whine again, tone tilting up into a hushed gasp. “You told me you did!”
 Your face is stained with sweat and tears, slightly swollen lips from biting down on them. He’s sure you don’t even notice the subtle rocking motion your pelvis makes as your thighs rub together. But he notices.  “You look desperate,” he notes aloud, eyes flickering dangerously. “I must’ve looked worse.”  The cocky smile that you’d usually be so eager to strip from his face sends a shudder through your body. The fact is, he looks like he might eat you whole and you would’ve mind that in the least. Fucking betrayed by your cunt which throbs unapologetically at the passing thought. His eyes flicker again, a knowing flicker, as your cheeks burn. If your embarrassment could generate energy there would be enough to light a city block for a day. He knows. It’s only a matter of time now.  “Can you not be like this?” You whine, fingers gripping the edge of the couch. It’s closer now than ever as you lean forward, just a little bit more pressure. Just a little bit more.
 Wooyoung cocks his head, letting the motion lead him to turn on his heel and drift into the hallway. “Not sure what you mean.”  A fresh wave of arousal floods your thighs. Insolent brat. “You fucking know what I mean.”  “You’re right, I do, I do know exactly what you mean. I’m just waiting for you to say it.” He smiles that foxy grin again. You forcefully squeeze your eyelids shut, as if he couldn’t see you if you couldn’t see him. “Did you just cum? How many times have you?”  Shame burns your cheeks. “You don’t know that.”
 “We’ve fucked of course I know what you look like when you cum.” He sounds sickeningly proud of this. Proud of being one of the few and mighty to know.  “Pervert,” your nose wrinkles and you squeeze your eyelids tighter.  “Says the one who just made herself cum in the living room while her roommate stood there. You didn’t even ask if you could. If I’d even want you to. You needed to get off that badly didn’t you? I know. I know because I did it too. I remember.”  Despite having just cum, your heart is racing. Wiggling your toes you can feel the excess energy pouring off of you. It’s uncomfortably warm. This is your penance. You want to use Wooyoung’s thigh, muscular and sturdy. Just hump the shit out of it while he sucks hickeys in your chest. The thought consumes you, the memory of the sweet little hums of satisfaction he’d made as he-  “Wooyoung!” You yelp, eyes snapping open and brimming with tears. “You have to go. You have to, I can't control it. I really can’t. Wooyoung I can’t let this happen to us again.” You’re practically begging as you feel the knife of lust twist tighter in your gut. Folding over, you shift your legs just enough to provide pressure to your throbbing core, a moan of relief wracking your body. It’s pathetic, you’re pathetic.
 It takes only a couple strides for him to close the gap between himself and the couch. Again was all he’d been wishing for since that day. Wooyoung slips in behind you, propping your back against his chest as you sob. “Do you want me to help you out, I know how,” he suggests as his fingers trace the seam of your pants up your inner thigh. Your hips buck up with a whimper.  “No, I’m fine,” you sniff.  “No? You and I both know the quickest way to get this problem solved.”  His hands splay across the fronts of your thighs, inching slowly towards the hem of your shirt. A trickle of sweat beads at your brow. The room is too hot for this closeness. Too hot for how dressed you both are. You’re burning up in this embrace but you like it, you need it. He smells so much like him and only him. Even if you purchased a bottle of the same cologne you could never replicate it. Warm and comforting and earthy. Your head tips back to his shoulder as you follow your nose to the side of his neck subconsciously.  “You must be in a lot of pain,” he coos with an air of condescension. “I know you are because I remember. You probably don’t even realize how hard your ass is pressing into my cock but I can tell you, it’s enough to leave an impression.”  “Wooyoung,” you whine again huffing as you divert all your mental energy to stilling your hips. “It’s your fault! You can’t make fun of me. You can’t tell anyone. I-I-” your lower lip trembles, breathing hard. His hand barely ghosts over your lower belly and you shake, cumming unceremoniously the instant he brushes over your mound.  You can feel the mixture of his lips and teeth and the condensation of his breath as he whispers against your ear. “Someone was in my bed earlier. Now unless you let someone in and they took a nap, there’s really only one other person that could’ve been.” Slowly his nails catch on the ridges of the denim fabric, almost plucking like a string as he strokes the rest of the way up the seam.  Moaning you bury your face as deep as you can in the side of his neck, practically drooling as your head swims with his scent. It sinks into your stomach and satiates a bit of the hunger gnawing at your insides. “Sorry,” you bleat suddenly, half muffled by him. He can feel your thighs quake as you cum again.  “Can you tell me why you were in my bed? Or did you get lost on the way to yours?”  “Smelled so good. You smell so good. Had to. Had to while I- god damn it Wooyoung. You know. Of all people. You know!” Your throat tenses, voice cracking hideously. You had gone in his room. Into his bed. You’d put your nose right into the mattress with you ass up in the air as you’d finger fucked yourself to completion, all the while inhaling the unwashed unadulterated scent of your roommate. What was worse is that you’d never cum harder or felt better.  “I promise you it’s much easier if you give in. I know you like a fight but you’re about to shake your skin off the bones.”  You sniffle. You hate how right he is. You hate how much you want him to make you cum. You hate that you can’t just be relaxed and calm and collected and cool about it. Sometimes best friends fuck, it can be that simple. It’s not that simple though, you think as your entire body flashes hot and shakes in his arms. “Wooyoung,” you whine again, twisting to face him and straddling his lap. “Do you mean it?”  Tenderly he swipes your sweat matted hair from the sides of your face and kisses your cheek. He kisses everyone’s cheeks, you remind yourself before you let your heart flutter too hard at the small action. “I’m your best friend, babe. It would be my pleasure, whenever you’re ready.”  God damn it Wooyoung, you swear internally. You’d almost rather his almost combative side than the gentle care he is giving you now. It’s less dangerous to you. You can write that off easier. Both of your foreheads meet, his lips hang loosely open, somehow plumper when you’re looking down from on top of him. From here you can see the mole on his lower lip even clearer. “You don’t say shit about this to any of our friends,” you hiss in his ear, tugging his head back by his hair. You can’t afford for him to do anything unexpected. Not right now. “No one knows about this. None. Got it?”  He chuckles, adams apple bobbing in his neck. “Still fighting?” He looks delicious, smirking under you like this. You could eat him right up. “Even when you’re humping me like horny teenager, you still want to pretend like you have this all under control.” You look down, your hips betraying you as you grind on the growing lump in his pants. It’s not like you can feel much through the fabric of your jeans, it’s embarrassing that despite this you still do it. Wooyoung’s hands rest in the juncture of your hip and thigh, subtly encouraging the action with the slight press of his finger tips. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul.”  You shudder, fingers flexing and tugging at his hair. His eyes roll back with a half pain half pleasure moan. He sounds just like you remember, like you’ve been trying not to remember. Flush with the heat of arousal, your eyes lock on his. “Help. It’s your fault, help me.”
 Strength surges in Wooyoung, lifting up from the couch, carrying you with your legs locked around his waist. The warm earthy vanilla smell grows as he walks down the hall into his bedroom, tossing you onto his already defiled bed, shoving aside the toys you’d forgotten in your lust induced haze. Closing your eyes, you ball the sheets in your hands and shove the scent soaked cotton into your face. The familiarity calms your raging libido just as you feel the weight of Wooyoung sinking into the mattress.
 “I’m going to take care of you, okay?” His fox-like eyes peek up at you from below. “Can’t believe you ate them all. ‘M not going to be able to cum as much as you can.” He tugs your jeans down from your hips, followed swiftly by your underwear, nearly completely soaked with sweat and release. He doesn’t give you enough time to become embarrassed, splayed out in front of him as you are. Propping your legs back further, his lips wrap over your slit, licking into you messily. The strong flick of his tongue has your legs shaking, cumming easily on his lips.  ‘So sensitive,’ he giggles, kissing the inside of your thigh.  “It’s your fault,” you slur, head lolled back into the mattress. “Fucking gummies.”  “Yeah that’s their point. Fucking.” He slurps at you again. “God you taste good.” Lick. “Thought you weren’t as messy as I was-” Slurp. “-but you’re dripping all the way down to your thighs.”  “Nooo,” you whine and cover your face in embarrassment, knees knocking into his head gently.  “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Wooyoung slurps again, this time his lips locking over the sensitive skin of your thigh and sucking a pink welt into it. A welt that only the two of you would ever see or know about. The thought excites him, erection pressed hard to the fabric of his underwear.  He’s eager and attentive and the sounds that fill the room are appropriately lewd to match. He drinks you like a man at an oasis, appreciatively humming, lips buzzing with sympathetic vibrations. Slipping two fingers into you, you cum again easily, just happy to have resistance to your spasms.  “Now just imagine if you’d left some for me,” he laughs, wiping his lips on the back of his arm. The tip of his nose glitters as do his eyes.  “You came so much last time,” you pant. His help has relieved some of the tension, or at least your hand wasn’t cramping. “-so full-so much-”  “You think you haven’t?” He laughs again, grabbing your waist and suddenly flipping you like a ragdoll. As if to make a point he pulls your hips up, dragging your front into the mattress, and pushes his full length in. You groan as the tip presses into your cervix snugly, his hips flush to the curve of your ass. His hands grip your ass, spreading you open as he slowly rolls his hips into you. “Cute little pussy seems to like me more than you do. Taking me in so nicely,” he says through gritted teeth.  Face mashed into the sheets you drool, the debauched position has you seeing stars. Almost helpless with your arms pinned below you and your ass in the air the wondrous fog of lust drapes over your inhibitions. “Cum, please, need-” you mutter, muffled by the blankets. “Need it, need you-” you chant over and over, tunneled in on the one request. Feel him cum, feel the warm release pulse and coat you inside.  “Yeah babe, I think you waited long enough for this,” he says, hands pressing into the small of your back as his hips snap faster. “I know you need it real bad. Gonna take it like a good slut for me?”  “Please.” Your earnest cries catch in the damp cotton. Blurry relief and endorphins wash over you as you clench around him. Desperate to milk him dry you slam yourself backwards. His rhythm catches and falters, fingers squishing into your flesh as he cums deep inside. The first splash of release feels euphoric, your legs giving up, leaving Wooyoung to hold your hips steady. He pulls back and rams deep again gasping and panting as he pushes himself even deeper, trying to mold you to his shape.
 Wooyoung lets you slip sideways onto the bed, cum dribbling down your thighs. “Does it feel better?” A warm towel presses to your sex.  Want burrows deep in your gut. Shamefully you remain silent. You want to tell him yes but you can’t. You need more. The craving burns worse than hunger or thirst. You hear the clink of ice cubes in a glass and open your eyes.  “You’ve lost a lot of water.” A statement of fact. Lost a lot of water to cumming. You sniff and sip the cool liquid. It doesn’t satiate you. Toes wiggling with anxious energy you try to focus on the feeling of the glass in your hand, the weight, the ridges.  “When can you go again?” Your voice sounds haunted and hoarse.  Wooyoung nods. “I thought you might- it’s gonna-” he hesitates as you rise from the sheets like a woman possessed.  “Can you just-can I just-” you start to pull him down into your arms, grinding down on his half hard cock. He winces and gasps,  “I really can’t yet babe. I promise, just a second,” kissing the side of your neck as he untangles himself and reaches over the side of the bed. “I got a friend to help with this predicament.” Like a rabbit from a magicians hat he pulls your wand vibrator up into the air. All white, large domed head tilted ever so slightly from years of usage. With a click the vibrator whirrs to life in his hand as he touches it to your mound.  You half groan half sob, “-but-need cum.” Your body shakes and thrashes as he presses more insistently. Your orgasm hurts as you clench down on nothing with a sob. Unnatural hunger claws at your chest and stomach, you feel blinded despite fully being able to see. Wave after wave crests over you as if it could overtake you but you’re parched enough to drink the ocean.  “God you look so beautiful fucked out like this,” Wooyoung watches your rapture with delight. Eyes rolling back you look like a renaissance era angel with your hair strewn out and mouth agape.  You barely breathe as you spasm below him, coming back from your experience gasping. “I need-fuck me-fuckme-please-Wooyoung,” oversensitive, you scramble backwards to get away from the whirring implement. A single click and silence fills the room, the only sound is the soft creak of the bedframe as he shuffles between your thighs.  Wooyoung holds the glass of water to your lips, “drink a little more for me.” Guiding the glass back he watches carefully as you sip down even the tiniest bit more. “Would it help if i took an ice cube in my mouth and trailed it down your body?  Dick in hand Wooyoung leans over you, feeding his length to your wanting walls. The aching empty is replaced by the comfort of fullness. It was meant to be like this. Just like this. Full of him in every way. His cock pushes his own seed from you as he thrusts, coating his length in a ring of bodily fluids.  “I want you to cum a couple more times for me, okay? Because I won’t be able to do as much as you.” The telltale buzz of your vibrator coming to life in his hand fills the void of sound. “Just let go.”  “But-cum-” you plead again like a broken record.  Long slow strokes bounce your hips back on his. “I know babe, I know,” his voice drips with false empathy. Lowering the buzzing head to your clit the shockwave is intense, your hips bucking upwards, fucking him deeper into you.  “Wooyoungie,” your voice shakes with your body. “Wooyoungie.”  Your back bows painfully as the top of your head presses into his mattress. You don’t have time to tell him further, to warn him. The euphoria you breach is like none other, your essence floods around him coating the both of you and the sheets. Wet and messy relief washes hot over you, melting what’s left of your mind.  Wooyoung’s eyes roll back, pinching his thigh to keep himself from spilling into you too soon. Even though you’d welcome it, you need it, selfishly he wants this to last. He wants to see you vulnerable and needy for him like he was for you.  To your credit, or your bodies credit, you work him like a pro, hips swiveling and grinding eagerly as you whine. “Wooyoungie please. Please I’ve been so good. Please it hurts so much. Please fill me. I need it. I need you.”  “Oh darling I love when you beg me,” he coos through gritted teeth, refusing to give in as you sob lightly. “You’ve got to work a little harder for it.”  “Wooyoung please, please,” you chant as you arch your hips up, trying to fuck yourself on him as best you can from below. Grunting and groaning in frustration. “It’s not fair,” you bemoan as he chuckles at you. “Can’t, from this angle,” you whine.  Wooyoung cocks an eyebrow at you, hips remaining stone still. “Are you gonna do something about it babe?”  With a huff you push him to his back, cock slipping from you as he settles in the bed. “You fucking asked for it. You asked for it, you dumb bastard.” You spit and swear as you settle back on his cock.  He hisses as he watching himself disappear between your thighs, your hands pressing into his chest as you sit on your throne. Claiming him. His head spins. “I didn’t ask for anything-oh shit.”  Your hips slam down on him with a vengeance. Grinding yourself on him, gasping and moaning as you use him like nothing more than a living dildo. “Loud mouth, only thing you’re good for is cum, not even-not even-shit-” you quickly lose your train of thought to another roll upwards of his hips. Bridging from his thighs he bounces you as your head rolls back, watching your breasts jiggle with the tug of gravity. You almost fall forward as he settles back down, furiously swiveling your hips back and forth over his lower abdomen. Gulping air you shudder and groan. “Going to fucking use you.”  “I like when you use me, pretty girl,” he laughs as his hands run up your front, thumb pressing between your lips. Salty and musky you lap and suck at what’s given to you as if it was your last meal.  “Seems your loud mouth is good for something.”  Carnal is the only way to describe the fire burning in your veins as Wooyoung’s hands travel your body with wonder. His hair halo’d around his head, veins in his neck protruding as he presses back into the pillow. Swearing and groping he tries to steady himself as his hips kick up, abs tensing.  “Gonna-oh shit-gonna-” he stutters. He can barely talk as he pulls all his focus to not cumming just yet. You’re so close, hips losing some coordination for the sake of speed, and he can’t let himself lose control before you do. Grunting in frustration he grits his teeth, grabbing your ass and steadying you over him. Biceps flexing and almost pinning you he grinds up into you, pressure building between his body and your clit. Your eyelids flutter and mouth falls. He’s doing a good job.  “Oh fuck-Woo-oh-” words catch in your throat, pulse dropping to your sex. The gentle pulsing squeeze of your walls draws your well earned reward from him. His release coats and spills out as you huddle over his chest, going in and out of consciousness, refractory shockwaves coursing through you.
 You wake first, his head rests on your soft stomach, bobbing with each inhalation. His hand is still intertwined with yours, both of you sticky from the day’s escapades. It must be well past dinner as your stomach churns with hunger. You have no concept of how you’d gotten here but likely in large part due to his care.  “Feelin’ be’er?” Wooyoung slurs, his thumb slightly stroking yours.  “Hungry,” you groan.  Wooyoung cackles, “it was a lot of energy, need fuel I’m sure.” His fingers escape yours, traveling the juncture of your hip and thigh. Everything still feels hazy but at least it’s quiet. “Are you settled? You good?”  He sounds almost hesitant, it tugs at your heart unexpectedly. You don’t really want it to be over but it is over. The burning subsided.  “I think I need-” you mutter sheepishly.  “-one more?” He finishes your statement with a question, perking his head up. “I think, maybe, I’m definitely running low but-” he babbles even as he’s pressing himself between your thighs. “If you need me to-”  “-if it’s really too much I can-” you start to babble back to him as his lips meeting your navel, leaving you squirming and gasping.  “-it really seems like you still might be dealing with some residual effects. You’re being too nice to me.” Wooyoung is already scooping his arms underneath your torso, hands wrapping up and over your shoulders as he pushes himself easily into you again. It feels like home, warm, cozy.  Eyes rolling back you sigh contentedly. The slip of the remnants of cum lessen the drag of his member but still the indescribable completeness leaves you breathless. Not much is said between you, deep unfettered groans escape muffled into eachothers shoulders. As frenetic and messy and animalistic as each previous session had been, this one was equally as tender.  Wooyoung’s loose lips want to spill confessions of love and desire. Fucking you as if the deeper he reached the more you’d be convinced of his love until his cock brushes your cervix.  You groan and curl below him.  “Too much?”  “Just stay a minute, let me,” you hook your legs over his and plant them into the mattress. Slowly you wind your hips, round and around. The gnawing hunger claims your gut again but this time, this time it isn’t a gummy or a drug pulling a trick. Eyes rolling back you groan again as you grind your clit against his pelvis.  “That’s my girl,” he murmurs almost as an afterthought. The words fall from him easily, unintentionally, and yet leave you gasping as you tip over the edge. Clawing at his back, unbothered by the potential to leave a mark. You almost hope you do, in case he was thinking of going out any time soon, so the next bitch knew someone had been there.  Panting he leans back and away from you, onto his haunches, hips still slowly and shallowly rocking into you. A smirk forms as he surveys the damage. “That good?”  “Cocky bastard.”  His smirk turns to a full foxy grin, “she’s back to the sane I see? I guess I should just-” he pauses before pulling back even more threatening to pull completely from you  Before you can stop yourself, you’re clambering up towards his chest, pawing at his shoulders with a small whine as you sit yourself back on his length. “You’re an ass.”  “You love me,” he says as he presses his forehead to your shoulder. God damn it he’s right, but you won’t admit that. Instead you reciprocate the bend of his head, burying your nose in his neck. Sitting in his lap and rocking with your limbs tangled it’s a different speed than your frantic needy drug induced fucking. More sliding and writhing. Wetter as well, sweat and spit and cum layered from previous rounds. Clingy and breathless. Falling and molding into each other as though two bodies could mesh into one if they simply tried hard enough.  Wooyoung litters your body with kisses for fear his unbusied lips will spill pillowtop confessions. His body aches from overstimulation but still his promise to take care of you drives him forward. The burn in his gut clenches his jaw as it sears down his legs. Slowly he works his mouth all the way down to your breast, arms cradled in the arch of your back as his tongue laves across your nipple. His cock throbs painfully as your walls clench in response.  Unaided by the magic of the gummies you start to break down yourself. Sex burning to the point of numbness you can barely summon the effort to even do the minimal rutting and rocking you have been.  “You can give me one more, right?” You groan out.  His hair tickles you as he nods a yes, lips tingling on you as he moans.  “You’re so so good Wooyoungie. You’ve been so good to me. Use me however you need.”  Wooyoung doesn’t need as much as he wants. Wants you to feel his love. He moves without a second prompting, tumbling the two of you backwards and hoisting your legs up into your chest. His hips pummel yours as he puts all his focus into chasing his high. You no longer whine or moan, you grunt with air forced out with each powerful thrust. The light behind your eyelids burns black as your head swims. Shaking in his grasp the constant squeeze of your desperate cunt spurs him forward. He has to cum. For you, he has to. Even through the searing pain in his inner thighs, you asked him to. He wants to. Lower lip jutting out in concentration, his mouth starts moving without his focus to stop it.  “Fuck, I love you,” he blurts, a weak dribble of cum splashing against your walls. Fingers digging into your ass and the side of your thighs, you can feel his length pulse as his brow furrows and gasps. “I love you so much, fuck. Hurts. God damn it,” he reiterates as he falls forward between your thighs, crushing you chest to chest. “I love you,” he continues to mumble, spit soaking into the pillow pressed to his mouth.  In a bleary haze you pat his shoulder mutely. How can he be so strong and so frail at the same time? Even as he whines and confesses his undying love, your heart swells. You need rest, you need a shower even more. The list grows in your mind as it defogs, listening to him until all that’s left is his slow steady breathing.
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scorpioracha · 10 months ago
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Dating Yoongi
We've finally got the dating Yoongi headcanons!! I'm sorry it took so long but boy is it lengthy so strap in. this is not proofread and im fucking exhausted so edits to be done eventually. if you enjoy reblog, like and leave a comment. cw: does contain smut and one kys moment
Your meet cute with Yoongi ended up being more of a meet awkward than anything. It was 3am at one of the many random convenience stores in Gangnam and you were exhausted, exhausted and hungry. You were doing a year in Seoul for your major and the timezones were really fucking you up. Puffy sleepy eyes,glasses on and a sleep mask resting on your forehead made quite the picture.
It was also quite the picture when you ran into a rack of honey butter chips and wiped out on the floor.
Full wipeout.
Legs up,gravity turned on its head wiped out.
Thankfully the only thing wounded was your pride, but you kinda wished you knocked yourself out so you couldn’t see the handsome man towering over laughing so hard his eyes practically disappeared and a gummy smile on his face. He had a cup of ice and one of those americano packets balanced in one hand and a helmet dangling in his other.
“...chana?”
“Huh?”you said in a daze. 
“Gwaenchana?”he purred in a low rumble. He looked at your lost expression and sucked in a breath.
“Are you okay?”It was a little clunky and half mumbled but you didn’t want to put this man through any more mental torment so you nodded quickly.
“Ne, na gwaenchana!”you replied and quickly scrambled to your feet, almost falling once again because your ankle decided now was the time to roll. He quickly reached out and steadied you, looking at you with so much bewilderment the whole situation felt comical. He looked at the hand that still rested on your arm and quickly pulled it away, you swear you saw his pale cheeks turn pink.
“Um…”he rumbled, looking at you with weary eyes. “stay”
You nodded with wide eyes as you watched this random man run around the convenience store and come back with a juice box and a random red pouch. He looked at you and held up each one.
“Bae juice”
He held up the red pouch. “Hong sam jelly for sukchwi…one moment”
He pulled out his phone and typed quickly. He held the phone to his ear and hummed.
“For hangover”he said, pointing to the two items again. Your eyes widened and you shook your head rapidly. You weren’t drunk. He definitely misinterpreted the situation and just smiled, giving you a smile and waving goodbye before disappearing into the night.
And what do you do when a pretty man buys you pear juice and ginseng jelly in a foreign country?
You fucking c o n s u m e it.
And the next morning when you woke up late to your 8:00am lecture, you just blamed the crazy night because wow what the fuck happened.
You spent the rest of your classes thinking about that handsome stranger. Maybe you did hit your head because WHY didn’t you ask for his name or his katalk? You could have done the whole ‘oh handsome young man, I need to pay you back’ kinda schtick but your brain decided to cosplay the very first windows computer and blue screen the minute you looked at him. stupid.
“Stupid” you groaned, trudging back to your dorm. You had been blessed—got accommodations—for a single room so it was just you and your twin sized 
Oh yeah, and your pining. 
Couldn’t forget about your pining.
You needed a drink. A good drink,some good food and some cartoons to get your mind off this random man. Within minutes you had a bottle of soju and a hefty platter of tteokbokki on the way. Maybe you’d go out for bingsu sometime this week with the girls from your lecture. They were sweet and treated you just like anyone else despite the racial and cultural differences, doting on you as their new maknae and always making sure you ate between classes. It was nice to be looked out for so thoroughly, especially when you were so far away from home. You pulled your phone out to text them when you got a notification that your delivery driver was already on the way.
Huh. they were already earning themself a tip. You stood eagerly by the door waiting and even though you were watching the app like a hawk, you jumped when the doorbell rang and scrambled to open it.
“Gamsahab-”you looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes. “...-nida”
“Soju?”he raises his brow in a way that says ‘again?’. You felt your face grow hot and shook your head rapidly. He just smirked and handed over your takeout bags.
Once again you fucked up,blanked and forgot to ask for his name.
 Damn pretty boy with his pretty eyes and his stupid smile.
It was months before you had seen him again. 
Time heals all wounds and you began to move on. You hung out more with your friends, went to karaoke,saw the sights of Seoul and slowly but surely felt yourself moving on.
It was on a rainy day in May where you found yourself at your usual convenience store. The weather went from sunny skies to torrential downpour within minutes and you had just gotten your hair done. You were looking for an umbrella but found yourself in the snack aisle. 
Blame it on the wind.
What you didn’t expect to find in the snack aisle were seven men bickering. 
You kinda just stood like 🧍🏾‍♀️ until one of them finally turned and god he was stunning 
“Yah, Yoongi-yah!! Move and let this lady through!”
The ‘Yoongi’ in question quickly scooted out of the way, mumbling about how they were all in the way. 
That mumble…
“Yoongi..”you whispered before you could even stop yourself. His gaze snapped up and for once you caught him off guard. His eyes flitted over you rapidly and his mouth opened and shut like a nutcracker.
“Soju girl,”he whispered. Then the moment was lost.
"na iroumi aniya(that’s not my name)” you huffed in annoyance. You know there was an honorific you were supposed to use somewhere in that sentence but your point still stood.
“You speak Korean”another boy said and god he was tall.
“Yes I speak Korean”you said, tilting your head up at him.
“Hyung, you said soju girl couldn’t speak Korean!”a voice laughs. You squint your eyes at this Yoongi who seemingly wanted the floor to swallow him whole. He stared at you like he had seen a ghost actually which wasn’t making things much better. The tall boy sighed and took a step forward, bowing even. 
“I apologize for my hyung,”he said solemnly. “He’s usually not this dumb. I’m Kim Namjoon and these are my bandmates. What’s your name?”
You smiled and returned the bow, happy to finally have some familiarity, both language and warmth.
“I’m y/n”you said. “I think me and your hyung have some catching up to do”
Yes, to say it was a meet awkward was the nicest way to put it.
It was a fucking train wreck of events if you were being completely honest.
You had exchanged info with Namjoon seeing as he spoke the most English and was the only one who didn’t 👁️👄👁️ at you which was nice and had quickly become good friends with one another.
Seeing that their leader liked you, the rest of the boys quickly followed suit and you suddenly had a much bigger friend group than you could even imagine.
Yoongi had become a lot more reserved in a way that was off putting to say the least. You’d only ever spoken to him twice before but there was something off.
you’d asked Namjoon about it during one of your study/music/kill each other from frustration sections and he just shrugged mumbling something about ‘hyung being busy’ 
you rolled your eyes and grabbed your stuff to find out yourself. That’s what you get for asking a dumbass.
Yoongi had been exactly where you’d expect him to be, crammed into one of the practice rooms with his headphones and laptop.
“Yoongi,” you said, tapping on his shoulder. He spun around in a startle and looked at you with a relieved sigh.
“Oh god”he breathed out, “I thought you were one of the maknae begging for food”
You couldn’t help but to smile, all the prior annoyance melting out of your pores and back to the depths of hell where they belonged. Talking to Yoongi was easy, that is when he was still talking to you.
“How do you know I'm not begging for food?”you smirked, taking a seat on the lumpy couch.
“Well, are you?”he asked, raising a brow. You shook your head and leaned back into the couch.
“You’re off the hook”you said, “but I do have a question” “Which is?” “Why have you been avoiding me lately?”
The room grew silent enough you could hear a pin drop. Cornered was the only way you could describe Yoongi. His shoulders scrunched up and he seemed to fold in on himself.
“No reason,”he said plainly.
Your eyes narrowed.
“So you have been avoiding me?”
His eyes widened.
“That’s not what I meant-”
“Then what did you mean?”you asked. Your patience was wearing thin and your heart was racing something ugly.
“I was trying to give you space”
“Space for what? I didn’t ask for space!”you snapped.
“Space for you and Namjoon!”he snapped back, folding his arms over his chest.
“Me and Namjoon?”you gagged. “The last thing me and Namjoon need is space, please collect your dongsaeng cause he won’t leave me alone!”
“Well he’s your boyfriend!”Yoongi threw back.
Huh.
“Huh?!”You shrieked. 
“It doesn’t take a genius to find out,”Yoongi continued, rolling his eyes. “So you can drop the naive act”
“Naive act—Yoongi, you think I'm dating Namjoon?”you asked. You felt like you were going to be sick. Namjoon wasn’t bad by any means, he was just so older brother coded it was disgusting.
“I don't think, I know,”he said. “You guys spend all your time together,you go on dates,you take naps together; it’s obvious”
“Well since you’re such a genius”You said, “How come you couldn’t tell that i’m in love with you?”
Huh.
“Huh?”he said, spinning around in his chair to fully face you. You ran a hand over your face and honest to god laughed.
“Idiots”you said in disbelief. “You’re all idiots”
“Hey-”
“I've been pining over you for months and this whole time you think i’ve been dating Namjoon”you said, shaking your head.
“You’ve been what?”Yoongi said. 
“Crushing on you”you emphasized, “You idiot”
“i..I don’t know what to say,”he said. You sighed and fully leaned back against the chair, feeling all the blood rush to your head from your bold confession. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.
“You can let me down gently for starters”you chuckled humorlessly.
“Let you down—what are you talking about?”he asked.
“Just reject me already!”You exclaimed, waving your hands frantically. You felt like a madwoman.
“Why would I reject you?”his eyebrows furrowed.
You were going to be sick.
“I’m going to be sick”you laughed, running your hands over your face and god were you crying?
“Why are you crying?”he rumbled softly, leaning in and wiping the tears off your cheeks. You just laughed harder, but that ended up turning into a sob because you were so tired. You weren’t expecting a fairytale but this wasn’t the turn you thought today would take. You felt yourself being pulled closer and you knew you should pull away, you knew better. It was all too much and he would just hurt you, but his hoodie smelled like coffee. His hoodie smelled like coffee and his hands were warm as they wrapped around you. You always wondered if he ran hot or cold, but he was neither; Yoongi was pleasantly warm. His hand had somehow wriggled between the two of you and rested on your cheek, rubbing the streaks where your tears trailed. His breath rose and fell in a steady rhythm and for a moment you felt weighless.
“What a mess, huh?”he mumbled, tracing his thumb over your temple. “I went and made all these assumptions…because I was afraid to say I love you”
“You love me?”you whispered. 
“Mm”he rumbled in affirmation. “You didn’t know?”
“No”you said, keeping your voice low, scared if you spoke too loud, the moment would disappear.
“I thought I was being obvious,”he said.
“I thought I was being obvious,”you said. You pulled your head back to look at Yoongi and that gummy smile was on full display.
“We’re both idiots”
Actually dating Yoongi went much smoother than the confession process.
In the early days, the two of you spent a lot of time in the genius studio doing parallel play, you’d work on your assignments and he would work on music. 
Obviously with many interruptions from the maknae line + hoseok, occasionally being prodded by Seokjin and Namjoon to eat,drink and get fresh air
Y’all needed to touch grass and they were sick of it
Being so close to the band in their early days formed an immeasurable bond between you all
But it also lead to a lot of sacrifices on your part that you weren’t prepared to make. 
There was the obvious like no posting about the boys on social media,nda’s up the wazoo,etc. This was all expected and you were willing to do so.
What you weren’t prepared for was how cruel the kmedia could truly be. You weren’t from here, you were a foreigner and that already put a target on your back. The fact that you weren’t thin or pale didn’t help one bit either. 
Thankfully, the boys and Yoongi reassured you in private. Namjoon did damage control and argued with the company to do more on your behalf, while Jimin and the maknae stood by your side like bodyguards wherever you went in silent solidarity. You were never alone. Jin dropped you off at university in the morning, along with Jungkook. Scolding the two of you to have a good day and to eat something that wasn’t chips. Naturally, Jungkook would bring you back once your classes were done and continued to gripe that even though he was older than you, he was still stuck in highschool.
You still hold this over his head to this date.
So thankfully, you had support. Support that if you didn’t have you weren’t sure where you would be honestly. It really felt like you all had become a little family, and being so far from home that was something you desperately needed.
Once the group got larger and was in a more stable position you better believe they all stopped holding their tongues, especially Yoongi. He could be a little hard to read at times but you were not expecting him to be getting himself into full on twitter wars on a burner account over you 💀
“Yoongi stop telling people to kill themselves”
“No”
Being in love with Yoongi felt easy, it was natural. He continued to take care of you in little ways whether it was packing your lunch,giving you transit fare or rubbing your temples when you were tired and falling asleep on him.
Our mans is definitely about that acts of service life. He loves quietly.
Pda made him want to die just a little inside but he wasn’t opposed to holding your hand. It wasn’t like he had anything to hide anyways, you guys were already public. 
He wasn’t the jealous type and although he’d never admit it, he loved how much you and the boys love each other. He’s got a bunch of pictures on his phone of you just in the dorms being domestic. You spent more time there than you did in your own dorm room.
 So although he doesn’t say it often, he shows it with every part of his being. The way his eyes sparkle when he sees you in the morning, his proud smile in your graduation photos. It also made his heart flutter that you got his dry humor and you dished it right back to him, smack in the middle of the maknae line teasing him and Jin about being old.
And when you learned Daegu Satoori from Taehyung to surprise him? Namjoon had to hold him back from proposing on the spot. And to think he ever thought you and Namjoon were dating.
Yoongi bits ✨tid bits about you and yoongi ✨
Yes Yoongi genuinely thought you were drunk and he wasn’t flirting(he got that nuerodivergent rizz)
When Yoongi told you the mint hair wasn’t real and washed it out you cried 🧍🏾‍♀️
You guys have two apartments together, one near Hybe and one in Daegu. You both prefer the apartment in Daegu because that means Holly gets to stay with you guys.
Everytime a new design for shooky it mysteriously appears in the apartment.
You guys have two cats per your request(a white one named sugar and a black one named gloss) the things Yoongi does for love
You guys have been happily engaged for the past year and he proposed in the most unromantic way possible 
NSFW
Baby, Yoongi is a switch with a capital S
Now I have never met a non kinky neurodivergent person and Yoongi is no exception. He enjoys a good power dynamic and has definitely explored kink in the past with previous partners so he’s experienced.
 But Yoongi does occasionally just like to fuck, no rules no dynamics. Just vanilla sex
He’s a lot softer than his image and he honestly likes the separation between the two for his own sanity. The fans think he’s this no nonsense hardass, but he’d much rather praise and reward you than dole out punishments.
He’s a softie at heart and finds a bit of bratty behavior to be cute so you can definitely get away with a lot. Not to say he’s a complete pushover but he definitely will let a good amount of back talk slide before he puts you in your place. It's almost infuriating how calm he is if you’re the type that brats in hopes of a punishment. He’ll just look at you and laugh about how cute you’re being before returning back to whatever he was doing.
It’s pretty hard to tick him off but also not impossible, the easiest way to get him to snap is to mess with him in the studio; especially if he has a deadline coming up. That's how you end up on your knees crammed under his desk not even allowed to suck his dick but just sit there and keep it warm while he works. The condescending mumbles and coos he lets out while stroking your head is enough to send you careening straight into subspace. “Just needed something in your mouth, huh?”he’d purr and gently drag his nails across your scalp
Tongue technology. We all know about it, but you get to experience this first hand at your beck and call. Yoongi is the first one to admit you’re spoiled and when you’re not being a brat, all you have to do is ask and he’ll be in between your legs. He could and has spent hours down there teasing your folds and giving you orgasm after orgasm until you can’t take it anymore.
Somnophilia. This is a kink that goes both ways for you guys but honestly he finds it really hot when you take what you need from him. Waking up groggy in the middle of the night to you fucking yourself on his cock is one of the quickest ways to get Yoongi whining and gripping the sheets. Bonus points if you tie his hands up or cuff them to the bed posts.
He’s not really a fan of quickies and prefers to take his time, but he’s not opposed to shoving you into a closet and getting you off on his fingers if you’re getting needy. He just wants to take care of his girl.
Speaking of his hands, they end up around your throat and in your mouth quite often. Whether you’re sucking or gagging on them, Yoongi makes good on this little fixation and makes sure you get your fill.
He’s down to being pegged. Somebody had to say it guys,🗣️ Yoongi wants something up his ass ‼️
Whether you have him bent over a table or you’re tied up and he’s riding you, Yoongi does enjoy penetration and he’s not ashamed of it. He likes how dazed and pliant you get when he’s bouncing on your strap all flushed and pink and whining. it’s a rush to his head and sends him over the edge faster than he can get a hand on himself.
He’s a fan of cozy aftercare and pillow talk. After you’ve both cleaned up and the bed is moderately clean, he’s off in the kitchen getting snacks and water so you two can cuddle and recap what you liked and disliked. He gets really affectionate after he cums so it usually dissolves into him mumbling praises and kissing all over your face before falling asleep.
All in all Yoongi is the best boy.
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knavesflames · 3 months ago
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Not to be nasty or anything but do you think Arle is more into fingering? Tribbing? Or strap? Hihi Just a silly question that's taking over my mind recently
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No be nasty, I like it >:]
I’ve had a burst of inspiration just now so perhaps a fic today!! Anyway, your question.
Nsft utc >:] (no word count, I wrote this on tumblr instead of docs like usual!)
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I like to think she likes all three, depending on her mood. She feels like the type of person to hide her emotions until she gets to come home to her love. I feel also she may not cry, or shout when she’s upset. She prides herself on being graceful, does she not?
So, picture this: when you meet her at her office to drop off her lunch, or to ask her if she needs anything, or even to just let her know you’re going out (she needs to know you’re going to be safe, there are a lot of people against her, and in turn, against you), Arlecchino is practically salivating at the outfit you’re wearing. It suits you perfectly, and she can’t help but stare.
Once she snaps out of it, she gestures you closer with a singular bend of her index finger. You know she has decided she just can’t wait, and her hands, though calloused from years of training, grip your waist gently so she can lift you onto her desk. One hand covers your mouth, the other one has two digits softly rubbing your aching clit before sinking into your pussy, who so greedily clenches around her.
Or, perhaps, imagine: a date night. You have them seldom, for she is oh so busy with whatever project she is working on. She refuses to tell you what, you refuse to ask, as long as she is careful. On those nights, you beg to please her, too. Yet, her mind is constantly focused on you, so how could she give up your pleasure for her own? Enter the tribbing. A good compromise, you both agree. She can pleasure you and watch as you writhe (or, very rarely, vice versa) and she can chase the high she rarely allows herself to have.
On those special nights, picture you against her, grinding your clit messily onto hers, your own whimpers and whines as quiet as possible so you can hear the way she groans when you circle your hips, the way her hands tighten on your body, her breath coming out in quiet pants as she whispers praise to you. “Louder,” she encourages you, but you can never tell if it’s because she wants you screaming or if she’s hiding her own sounds she’s trying so hard to hold back.
You watch when her eyelids flutter she finishes with a hiss and a jerk of her body. The sight alone lets you come undone with her.
Also consider: some fatui officer messes something up again and she has to fix it, wasting hours and hours of her precious time. She does not express her anger then and there, no. Of course not. She comes home, and by the look in her eyes alone, you know she’s had a bad day. Still, she envelopes you in her arms with her nose buried into your hair. Her body relaxed slightly, but it’s not enough. “Please,” she mumbles into your hair. It’s the closest she’ll ever get to begging. Little does she know, you were offering yourself the second she came home. You secretly enjoy the way she fucks you when she’s frustrated.
Bedtime comes quickly, an early 9pm. Neither of you sleep, no. Instead, you’re ass up for her on your bed, hands ready to grip the sheets. Your entire body shivers when you feel her dragging the silicone of her favourite strap between your folds. With one hand fisting the base of it, and the other resting firmly on your back, she pushes her hips forward. She always starts slow, only for you.
When she knows you’ve adjusted, based on your breathing, she moves. It’s a gentle rhythm, but she ends up losing her patience, and she’s quickly fucking you and turning your mind to mush. Arlecchino could live on your moans like they coursed through her veins (she wishes you coursed through her body instead of the flames that overtake her) and she does everything possible to let the tip of her strap hit the gummy spot inside of you. The room is quiet, other than her small grunts, your whimpers, and the sound of your dripping pussy. She’ll fuck you until you cum. Then again. And again, until you say the word that makes her stop. Then, she’ll take care of you, like always.
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misserabella · 1 year ago
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CONFESSEX
ellie williams x catholic! fem!reader
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a/n; if you think this might disrespect or trigger you don’t read it! i respect all types of religions and it’s not my intention! <3 love y’all!🩵 also thanks for the 5k!!!!!!!
summary; you wanted ellie. and no god was gonna stop you.
cw; +18 content! minors dni!, ellie calls god your false god, daydreaming, god kink, body workship, weed usage, smoking, ellie being absolutely whipped, kissing, first time for everything (reader), making out, use of pet names instead of y/n, fingering (r receiving), tit and nipple play, praising, praise kink, ellis calls you her good girl, oral (r receiving)…
“Come on, angel, I can’t hear you.” you were whimpering, drooling spilling from those pretty pink lips of yours as big warm and ringed hands gripped your hips, rocking your soaked and throbbing push against the denim of her crotch.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when her lips latched to your neck, biting hickeys and dampening your skin in open mouth kisses.
“Give us this day our daily bre…bread, Ellie…” you cried out when her hips thrusted upwards, both hands moving from your hips to your ass for her nails to dig into, pushing you harshly against the bulge of her strap. She chuckled, hushing you in a whisper.
“Shh, we’re on mass baby.”
She was dazed. Those pretty tears of yours making a mess out of her. She knew it was bad. Fucking you on the oratory room? And during mass? Really bad. But oh well, Ellie was not a good girl. She was worse.
“Go on, or you’re gonna get left behind.” she encouraged you, smirking when her fingers got inside your panties and you choked on air, withering when her fingertips sank on your sticky folds.
“Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those… those who trespass against us!” you mumbled in between crying soft whines. “Please, Ellie…” he clicked her tongue, fingers entering your twitching hole and thrusting in you, making your nails dig on her shoulders.
“Go on, gorgeous. I know you can do it. You’re a good girl.” you almost came in the spot, when her fingers curved and hit that sensitive spot in your gummy walls. She felt them flutter around her fingers and stopped every movement, leaving you almost touching heaven just to let you fall back to earth again. You cried, face scrunching when your orgasm was stolen out of your reach for the third time in less than thirty minutes. “Ah, ah…” you heard her warn, chuckling when you tried and reach after it, rocking against her rough hand. “No cumming ‘till you finish your prayers, baby.”
New tears fell down your cheeks, hiccups of frustration only making Ellie’s boxers wetter. “I can’t, icanticanticant…”you whimpered, unable to control how much it hurt ‘down there’, as you always said. You had to cover your mouth when a scream left your lips at the harsh spank the auburn haired gave to your ass, the sting making your hips buckle against her.
“Yes you can. Come on, use your words gorgeous.” you hissed when she sucked a new bruise on that sweet spot on your neck.
“and lead us not into temp…temptation,” you stuttered when her fingers moved again against your clit. The burning sensation in your lower stomach was like the deepest pits of hell, torture, but it hurt so good that you found yourself begging for more. “but deliver us from evil. Amen.” you moaned that last part, fingers thrusting deep inside of you, the wet sounds of your juices filling the little wooden room along with your gasps and silent whimpers.
“See? I knew you could do it. Such a good girl for me.” you hid your face in the junction of her neck and shoulder when her fingers started to fuck you just right.
“Ellie… Want… Want…” you were a babbling mess, drooling and crying on her neck as she made sure to fuck that precious mind out of you. You couldn’t even form a simple fucking sentence.
“What do you want, hm? Tell me and I’ll give it to you, angel. Anything you want.” but she already knew what you meant.
“Wanna cum, pleasepleaseplease…” you muttered, cheeks burning up but still the feeling of your building orgasm being just the perfect inhibitor that you needed.
“You wanna cum sweetheart?” you nodded, pretty moans falling off your lips when her free hand —the one that wasn’t buried deep in your panties— tightly gripped your soft and silky locks so she could get a glimpse at your pretty and fucked out face. Her thumb pressed against your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck, I love when you do that shit. So fucking pretty for me…” you were begging at this point, needing her to give you the green light to gush all over her ringed fingers. You just needed her to give you a last push, to let you let go. “Come on baby, show me how much you love my fingers, how much you love me to fuck you in the church of your false god. Cum for me, angel.” and just like that, you were cumming, so fucking hard that if it weren’t for her mouth muffling your moans and screams, the full church would have known what was going on in between those tight walls.
Her mouth was like a drug. The more you tasted it, the more you found yourself begging for it. Her tongue was hungry, yet lazy against yours, spit dripping down your chin as her fingers kept thrusting in you, helping you ride out your high. Your brain was a pink mush at that point, too fucked out of it to even know what was going on, stars dancing behind your close pretty and teary eyes. You still couldn’t get used to just how good it all felt. The touching, the kissing… Ellie.
“Look at you…” you gagged when she pushed her dripping fingers inside your mouth. “Look at the fucking mess you’ve made.” you moaned around her fingers —being able to taste your release on them— pupils blown and used cunt fluttering around the emptiness her big fingers had left once they had left your gummy walls. “Such a dirty girl, letting me have my way with her in church…” you whimpered when another spank made your skin grew in goosebumps. “You should be embarrassed of yourself.” she said while pulling her fingers out of that tight and warm mouth of yours.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, god, I’m sorry…” her pitch black eyes shone in lust at your pleads of forgiveness. “Please forgive me, please…”
“You want forgiveness?” her wet fingers caressed your cheek and, later on, your hair, patting it slightly as you nodded. “Then kneel.” she said, chuckling a little bit when she could see the confusion on pretty face. “Kneel.” this time, she pushed your head down, her other hand guiding you to get off her lap to settle in between her legs. You gasped due to the sudden push against her strap, the damp denim and warmth pressing to your warm cheek. You heard her groan at the sight of your lips being so close to her cock, and pussy. “Now be a good girl and pray, hm?” she gave you a sweet smile as she unbuckled her belt and tugged on her jeans, the strap bouncing and resting against his happy trail. “Pray with your lips around my cock.”
“Ellie?” she came back to the present and got out of her head when she finally heard your voice calling out for her. “Can you please hand me my bible?” your sweet little voice filled your pink and strawberry scented room —which now was indulged in the sour weed smoke that scaped from her lips—.
If Ellie was proud about anything in her fucking life, that would be you. Her sweet best friend. You were so perfect, so innocent, so pure… An angel.
You were scribbling in one of your notebooks, finishing up some kind of homework in between little hums and babbles. Ellie was just lost in how beautiful and ethereal you looked, with your little pink lips pursed and silky hair framing your face. God, she wanted to ruin you…
“Sure thing, gorgeous.” she said, leaving your bed —in which she had been laying and smoking on for the last hour while staring at you— to reach out for the little bible that rested on your nightstand and slowly walk up to you. Her hand handed it up, but before you could take it she pulled her hand back, making you frown. “Nuh-uh… You know how to ask for things, don’t you sweetheart?” you let out a little giggle as she leaned in, waiting for you to close the distance in between your lips and her cheek, which you happily did.
You loved to kiss Ellie, there was something about it that always made your stomach flutter with butterflies.
“Wait… One more?” she whined when you pulled away, but you only shook your head, taking your bible from her hands with a little giggle. Her eyes were bloodshot and half-lided, breath heavy.
“I need to finish my homework, Ellie…” she groaned, ‘cause she knew that you were right and that you were just best friends. You didn’t even know she thought about you this way. But fuck, she wanted you so bad… Needed you so much… And you sounded so pretty trying to be the good girl you always were. Fuck, the things she’d do to you.
She smirked. “Okay.” she rose her hands up in innocence, but there was nothing innocent in the way she was staring at you while biting down on her bottom lip. You were back at doing your homework when she palmed herself over her jeans. If only you could recognize the lust on her eyes as she stared at you…
Ellie had always been careful. Never touched you in a way that screamed anything other than innocence. She couldn’t. Even though she wanted it, so badly. She would die if she’d ever make you feel uncomfortable. She loved you. You meant the world to her. But lately it was getting worse. The constant dirty wet dreams, the daydreaming… You were so fucking beautiful it hurt.
“How much longer, baby?” she inquired, and you hummed.
“Not long.” you answered, and she sighed. She decided to light up another blunt. She just wanted to pull you away from those books and make you pay attention to her.
“What?” she inquired you when she noticed you were staring at her. You took a deep breath.
“Forget it.” you shied out, your cheeks turning pink.
“Hey…” she called out for you, patting the free side on her bed. “What’s wrong, doll?” her hand found your cheek when you sat beside her.
“It’s nothing…” you promised but she wasn’t having it.
“Come on… No need to be shy with me, darling.” you only flushed harder. “What is it? You want to try it?” she asked, pointing at the blunt, and you nodded. She smiled. “That’s okay baby.” she promised, handing it to you, you sat up upright. “Take a small light drag, alright? Don’t want my pretty girl to choke.” you nodded, your body shivering at her cute nicknames. They always made your heart flutter. You followed her orders, but still managed to cough, the feeling of the smoke burning your throat. “Woah…” she patted your back, giving you the bottle of water you kept on your bed site table. “You okay, princess?” you nodded. “I have an idea. Give it to me.” you handed her the blunt, and she took the drag. “Come here.” and you found yourself stuttering when her free hand pushed you from the back of the neck towards her. She smirked at the blush on your face, neck and ears. Your heart was doing flips inside your chest. “Open up.” her hand now was on your face once again, her thumb on your bottom lip, pushing open your mouth. Your eyes fluttered close as she leaned closer, exhaling the smoke inside your mouth, and you inhaled, this time you throat not feeling that sore. “Good girl.” an unconscious whimper left your mouth at the praise, already feeling the effects of the weed. Ellie’s eyes shot open before a smirk took over her lips. “You liked that, baby? Like it when I call you good girl?” you blushed, but still nodded.
“Ellie…” you muttered her name, her eyes glued to her lips. Yours were too. “Can you kiss me?” you inquired, and fuck. Why did you even ask?
You moaned when her mouth met yours, her tongue pushing inside at the first change, humming and groaning. It was your first kiss, and you truly didn’t know how to kiss her back, but you knew it felt good. Too good. She noticed, pulling away. “Open your mouth and put your tongue out for me baby. That’s it.” she was back at kissing you, this time slower, so you could follow, showing you. “Fuck.” she groaned, pulling away. “I can’t. I can’t do this. You’re high. I’m high. You don’t know what you are doing.” she sighed, fighting with herself. She wanted to pin you down and keep kissing you. Pull more of those sweet sound out of your mouth.
“I know what I’m doing.” you promised, sitting on her lap. Ellie almost choked.
“Baby…” you hushed her, kissing her once again, and she groaned. “Fuck. You don’t know what you do to me.”
“Touch me, Ellie. Please…”
“Doll, please don’t.” she begged you, trying so hard to not rip your clothes and fuck you just like she had been dreaming for years on end.
“I want you, Ellie. Please…” fuck, this wasn’t supposed to go this way. Where had her shy little girl gone?
“Fuuuuuck.” she grunted when she felt your lips on her neck.
“Please, please, please…” tears were swelling in your eyes. You had been wanting to ask for it for months. But you were always too shy to ask. Listening to your best friends all talking about their first kisses, first times… You wanted that. But after weeks of thought, you had noticed that all they felt with their boyfriends; the butterflies, the nervousness, the need… You experienced it with Ellie. You liked Ellie. You liked your best friend. Your religion said it was a sin: Loving someone that was your same sex. But you couldn’t fight it anymore. ‘Cause if it was so wrong… Why would this feel so right? So good? You needed her. Humping your little cunt against your pillow was not enough. There was never enough of Ellie.
“Okay, baby. You’re okay. I’m gonna take care of you, alright?” she promised and you nodded, opening your mouth for her when she kissed you again. She turned you around and pushed you against the bedsheets of your bed, taking place in between your thighs. Your back arched when her lips found your neck, sucking bruises that you’d proudly wear tomorrow. Her hands pushed in between your bodies to hike up your skirt.
“Ellie…” you whimpered when one of her hands cupped your cunt, a wet patch adorning your panties.
“Fuck doll, you’re so wet…” you moaned when she started to circle your clit from over your panties. “That feels good?”
You nodded, your hips bucking against her touch.
“Of course it does…” she cooed, pulling from your pj’s shirt to strip you out of it, your beautiful tits spilling out and free for her hungry eyes to see. “So fucking beautiful…” her hand pushed inside your panties as her lips latched to your nipples.
“Ellie!” you cried out. Shit. This felt too good.
She smirked. “Atta girl…” she pushed one of her fingers inside your tight pussy. “Look at you… Taking my fingers so good…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as she started to thrust it in and out.
You were moaning non-stop. Making her so fucking horny it hurt. You looked so beautiful beneath her, eyes glassy and lips swollen… She wanted to ruin you.
“That’s it. Open up for me, princess.” another finger went in, and you screamed when she hit your g spot.
“Oh god…” tears were swelling your eyes. You’d never felt this kind of pleasure. This love. Your stomach was filled with butterflies with every kiss she left on your skin. And you heart felt so warm… You loved her. You loved Ellie.
“What god baby?” she smirked. “Can god fuck you like I do? Make you feel like I do?” she inquired and you shook your head. “That’s right, he can’t. But I do. Only me.”
“Don’t stop, please Ellie, don’t stop…” you begged and she cooed.
“Look at you. Begging me. Praying at me to make you cum, aren’t you?” you nodded. “That’s right… I’m your god baby.” you moaned. “And I’d go on my knees for mine.”
“Fuck!” you cursed—something you never did— when you suddenly felt her tongue, lapping at your arousal and sucking at your clit. She grunted at your taste, eating you out like a starved woman.
“Pussy so sweet… You taste so fucking good…” she groaned, eyes heavy, pussy drunk just by one little taste.
She continued to eat you, fucking her fingers in and out of you, making your thighs shake. You were gonna cum. You couldn’t take it anymore.
“Ellie. I’m gonna…!” you tried and warn her, your back arching as fat tears slid down your cheeks.
“You’re gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess out of my face?” you nodded, whimpering. “Go ahead baby, cum for me. Wanna see you fall apart.”
You came with a deep moan, breathless, your walls fluttering around her fingers and making it hard for her to help you ride it as you clenched. You’d never felt anything like it. This was heaven.
Ellie came up to kiss you, her lips and chin wet in your cum. You could taste yourself on her tongue.
“You’re mine.”
When have you not been?
-
a/n; ellie is my god tbh
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