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fushitoru · 4 months ago

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back to the kittty, cause she's kinda pretty!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) bf!sukuna x reader x toji, masseuse!nanami x reader, bully!suguru x reader, childhood best friend!choso x reader, best friend!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn tropes! (part 2) inspired by this awesome post by the cool and super talented @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), sub!satoru supermacy, porn no plot, vaginal sex, doggy, fem reader, "sloppy seconds," pre-established consent for all, reader accidently eats an aphrosidiac for choso's, bullying in suguru's, oral (m and frecieving), fingering, semi-public humiliation, lowk pathetic toji, art by 3aem, nOT EDITED

a/n choso's is my favorite yet again i love a pathetic man that rails me into next tuesday <3

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ MY HOT CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND ATE SOME WEIRD CHOCOLATE AND WANTS ME TO DICK HER DOWN!

Your best friend, Choso, was lounging on his couch, flipping through different movie options on Netflix while you were in the kitchen, bending and squinting through the different options. It’s a Friday night, and the both of you opted to stay in for movie night.

“Choso!” You complained, huffing while putting your hands on your hips to shout at him in the living room. “Why do you only have fuckin protein shakes and raw chicken in your fridge?”

All you get is a noncommittal shrug while he pauses on the preview for some shonen anime. “There should be some chocolate.”

Gasping in excitement, you go back to rummaging through his fridge like a raccoon and there you find it—-a pink chocolate box titled “tabs.” Smiling to yourself in excitement, you don’t hesitate before popping on of the bars in your mouth, appreciating the cherry flavor while grabbing another one. With your mouth full, you ask, “Do you want one? These are sooo good, where'd you buy them?”

“Nah, I’m good. Just come over here, you’ve been taking too long.” He sends you a glare and motions for you to sit next to him, to which you set the chocolate back in the fridge and pad your way over to him. “I think Sukuna bought these off the internet and that they were kinda bougie.”

You look at him, slightly alarmed. “Isn’t he going to kill you?”

He looks over at you—a little softly, you note—and ruffles your hair, to your dismay. “It’s okay, I’ll buy it again for him. Gonna blame your big back ass for it being gone.”

“Die.” You stick your tongue out, crossing your arms while settling into his side.

Choso noted that you were being a bit more cuddly than usual, touching him more as soon as you got onto the couch. He decides to ignore it. “Ok, we’re going with Spider-man, k?”

You nodded into his side—he could tell you were flushed by the way you had continued to grow warmer and warmer, with beads of sweat dotting your temple. He paid it no mind, choosing instead to click on the movie and watch it play.

You were heating up.

You tried to ignore it, because you hadn’t felt feverish before or done anything in particular to cause you to be sick (your coffee and ramen diet had been fixed after midterms season after Choso got on your ass about it). But about 25 minutes into the movie, you couldn’t bear it anymore, your vision blurring at the edges as you mumbled, “‘ts too hot. Gonna take off my shirt.”

Choso, who had been focused on the movie, tensed and looked at you, eyes slightly widened. “Wh—” Before he could even get a word out, you stood up—eyes slightly unfocused—arching your back while grabbing the bottom hem of your t-shirt and peeling it off, causing Choso to gulp as you uncovered the swell of your breasts in your red lace bra. You went back to borrowing yourself on his side, the softness of your boobs pressing against his arm.

Choso closed his eyes because there was nooo way he was popping a boner for his best friend. No way. As both of your eyes went back to the movie, Choso focused on reciting the Japanese National Anthem to distract himself from the soft breaths you were letting out near his ears—and the way they tickled them—as well as the rise and press of your chest against his arms as you heaved.

You, on the other hand, did not feel relieved. At all. There was a stickiness in between your thighs that made you think your period had started, but it had ended a week ago. You were probably just ovulating. Cuddling into Choso further, you put your legs on either side of his torso, burying your face into his neck and taking a deep sniff. At this point, you ignore the movie as you tried the soothe the heat that was going through you.

“What are you doing?” Choso was ram–rod straight and turned to peer down at you incredulously while reciting in his brain, until the tiny pebbles, grow into massive boulders.

You continued your whiffing—-he just smelled sooo good—and sobbed, “I don’t know, but it hurts.” At this point, the feeling between your thighs was unbearable. You started to subtly grind on the side of his torso, much to Choso’s surprise. “‘M sick, Cho, but I’ve been eating healthy! I promise!” you whined. “Except for the chocolate right now. It hurts!”

At that moment, he knew he fucked up.

These were the tabs chocolates Sukuna was buying for his girlfriend. The ones viral on social media for serving as aphrodisiacs.

“Fuck,” he groaned while you continued to rub yourself onto him, now fully moaning and sighing as you tried to chase relief. “Fuck! I fucked up.”

“Choso,” you whined loudly, prompting him to leave his state of anguish to look at you worriedly. “I feel so empty.”

Choso snapped.

Bent over, face buried in a pillow on the couch, Choso rams into your creamy, wet pussy, the squelching sounds echoing across the empty apartment. Punctuating his words with a thrust, “is-�� plap! “what-” plap! “you-” plap! “wanted?”

“Yes!” you squeal, body bouncing as his rough snaps of his hips jostled you around, “You’re making me feel so good, Cho!”

“Do you know how much of a tease you’ve been?” he growled, balls hitting your ass as he pulled a hand back to spank you, red handprint imprinting itself on your cheeks. He groans at the sight of him leaving his mark on you. “Gonna take my cum, right?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI AND SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ I GET MY BEST FRIEND’S SLOPPY SECONDS! (a/n lol im not gonna lie this is just me ovulating and wanting to be creampied by two men)

Whenever Toji was at Sukuna’s place, it was like you, his girlfriend, pretended he wasn’t there. Because why were you always dressed in the tiniest of shorts and a tank top that could barely even hold your tits in and keep them covered? Sometimes, Toji thought it was Sukuna’s play—dangling you in front of him like a piece of meat, reminding him what he couldn’t have.

Sukuna and Toji did have a bit of a…competitive friendship—one of good nature, of course. Toji, nonchalant as he is, didn’t really care whether he lost or not in the little skirmishes they had, whether it be seeing who can lift the most at the gym or walk somewhere faster. But he’s definitely seen Sukuna eye his groin in a mental competition to see if he was bigger or not.

Safe to say, Sukuna relished in the win. In a sense, he was obsessed with the submission. Not that Toji could care. He didn’t care when he flaunted his girlfriend around, groping you in front of him just to make him feel jealous…right?

Because why was his dick hard, him all hot and bothered as he listens to your moans and the plap! plap! plap! and squelches of Sukuna’s dick drilling in you? You’re both in the room, and Toji’s in the living room, confused as to why the fuck Sukuna asked him to come over when you clearly had a dick appointment with him.

“Mmm, Sukuna you’re making me feel so good!” You whine, and Toji curses, closing his eyes and cursing whatever god was out there to make him subject to such torture. In his gray sweatpants, his bulge is undeniable as he hears Sukuna pleasure you.

Then, he hears Sukuna call out to him, jumping as the other man yells, “Yo, Toji. I know you’re out there, man. Come in!” He then laughs meanly, speeding up to silence whatever protests you were making. Toji curses once again and moves to open the door just for his eyes to widen at what he’s seeing.

There is an obscene amount of cum oozing from your hole, it looked battered and swollen from the abuse Sukuna has dealt to it. There are tears in your eyes, a pretty pout on your face as Sukuna continues to use you as your fucktoy. And Toji realizes that Sukuna is looking at him while his hips languidly gyrate into you.

“‘kuna–” you sob, embarrassed and cheeks heating up even further as you felt Toji’s eyes rove over your form, utterly decimated by Sukuna.

But you’re interrupted out of any potential protests you can make as Sukuna smacks your ass—Toji’s eyes not missing the jiggle—as he abruptly pulls out and motions Toji to come closer. “I’m gonna let him borrow you, okay baby? You see, Toji’s kind of pathetic here. Might as well give him sloppy seconds, right?”

With that, Toji is moaning as he slowly enters you, your pussy sweetly clamping on his dick as he can literally feel Sukuna’s cum every time he thrusts. The utterly debauched feeling of his still-hot come lubricating his every thrust makes his eyes roll back, lost in the feeling of your pussy as you whimper and squeal everytime he hits your g-spot.

“Yo,” and Toji’s attention is temporarily swayed to Sukuna, who’s watching the both of you with darkened eyes, manspread in a chair. “Come inside, okay? It’s my treat.”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ DIRTY MASSEUSE GIVES HOT BABE A DEEP TISSUE MASSAGE! (WITH A HAPPY ENDING)

Working in corporate was hell.

Sitting in a chair all day slaving away at spreadsheets and emails was definitely not something your younger self imagined you doing, but alas, you were only but a slave to capitalism. Even your hip flexors could feel it—they were tight, and your upper back hurt a lot.

So, here you were, in the waiting room of this bougie massage salon that you decided to treat yourself to. After all, you’ve been a good girl with your savings, making sure not to spend loads on stress-virtual-shopping so you can blow lots of bucks into this 2 hour service. The lobby is neat and glamorous, as you wait while rubbing your back. You’re currently engrossed in watching a compilation of Moo Deng videos until a deep cough interrupts you. “Miss?”

You turn to face the rich, baritone voice that’s said your name, and then suddenly reeling back. In front of you was probably one of the most handsomest men you’ve ever seen, with blond hair and sharp cut facial lines. He’s rubbing his palms together, which seem laden with oil as he looks at you plaintively. “Shall we take it to the massage room?”

“Y–yes. We can do that,” you nervously affirmed, gathering your purse and belongings to tightly follow behind him.

When you arrive at the room, the stoic man motions for you to get changed. “Please put on a towel. We’re going to be doing a deep tissue massage, so the towel will serve as a protective measure.”

You blush at the thought of this man seeing your body covered in nothing but a towel, but follow his directions regardless, putting your belongings in a corner while you step out of the changing room and into the massage room once again. You try to preserve your modesty as best you can as you go to lie down on the table. The only things you hear from him are the clinks of bottles as he rummages through different oils, uncovering them. The smell hits you dead on, soothing your senses already with the essential oils.

And then, his rough, big hands are on your back, pressing into your shoulder blades. You jump, like a scared deer, and he lets out a deep chuckle. “My bad. I’ll be doing your back side first.”

“Okay,” you whisper in response, already closing your eyes in bliss with the way he’s roving his thumbs over the planes of your back, pressing in deep as he works out the kinks in your back.

In one particular spot in your lower back and hips—the one that’s been hurting like a bitch because of your endless time sitting in a chair—he presses his thumbs with the exact right pressure, and you moan.

You can’t help it—the chronic back pain has always been there, but he makes it disappear with a languid movement of his fingers over your back. But he pauses slightly as soon as the whimper comes out of your mouth. “Miss, are you alright?” Flushing, you are quick to affirm. “Yes, sorry.” With a lower voice, you say, “That was, um, that was just really relieving.”

He laughs melodically and continues his ministrations, going even lower, but pausing right before putting his hands on your ass. “May I pull the towel up? Direct contact will be helpful in this region for a deep tissue massage.”

“Y-yeah,” you say softly. “You can do that, you’re the professional.” He’s just doing this for massage reasons, right? With your consent, he slowly inches up your towel to uncover your bare ass to him, you clenching your thighs with the fact that he can see everything.

He then puts his hands on the fat of your ass, moving his hands in a circular motion that spreads your ass every time he moves in an outward rotation. Kento’s trying really hard to stay professional, but seeing your glistening wetness makes him groan inwardly. “Miss,” you perk up slightly as he refers to you, “I’ll continue with the deep tissue massage as requested, okay? There’s a spot that I believe really needs my attention.”

Innocently, you nod, and Kento can’t help but feel so aroused that you’re so naively believing him, letting him touch you as if it’s an appropriate part of his job. His hands inch closer and closer, and soon enough he’s fingering you while languidly licking you up.

“Does this feel good, miss?” Kento is out of breath as he nudges his nose deeper into your pussy while you’re squealing at the feeling of his fingers slamming into your g-spot, sending jolts of pleasure down your spine. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he goes in, sucking at your clit just perfectly.

“It’s rude not to answer someone,” your masseuse gives you a slap, and quickly soothes it over.

“‘M sorry!” you squeal, bucking your hips as soon as you feel like you’re getting closer, “It feels soo good.” With that, he pauses his ministration to give you a gentle kiss on your pussy, and the plush of his lips is enough to set you squirting, riding his face as you drench him in your juices. Safe to say, you were feeling very de-stressed.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ BEST FRIEND CATCHES HIM MASTURBATING, JOINS IN ON THE FUN!

Satoru groans, squeezing his ball at the base to avoid cumming prematurely. What he was originally doing was trying to find some porn to empty his balls to, releasing stress and gaining dopamine from masturbating. But eventually—like he’s been doing a lot these days—his fingers direct him to your Instagram profile. You, his best friend.

Satoru does this in secret, waiting until he’s alone in his and Suguru’s apartment to go into his room, close the door, and sin by thinking of you in a way friends don’t of each other. So, he’s trying not to bust too early while he zooms in on your tits in the cute bikini picture you posted just last week, the ones he took of you. The pixels of your magnificent breasts zoom in, sweat and water glistening off of them as your bra hugs and makes them sit just right. He groans, throwing his head back as he feels his cockhead pulse again, deciding to end his edging to cum.

In his focus on stroking his dick—the squelching and whines echoing in his room—he doesn’t notice the sound of the door opening. Nor of the footsteps heading towards his door, because he moves his hand up and down, up and down, up and down until he’s so close to cumm—-

“Satoru! I got us some mochi!” You yell loudly, and Satoru screams in return, albeit for a different reason. As your head whips up to look at him, alarmed at his shout, you register that his cock and balls are out. And that, in his left hand, is a photo of you.

You blink, and Satoru blinks back, except with a red, throbbing length in his hand. Then, slowly, you ask, “Why is my picture open, Satoru?”

Satoru swallows, already hearing funeral bells and utters out, “I—I—that was a mistake. I meant to be on Pornhub. Haha! I mean,” he continues on rambling, “why would I be looking at your picture? Obviously, my hand slipped while I was jerking off I mean—” he cuts himself off, because in his yapping, he’s failed to notice how you’ve stalked over to his bed, now straddling him while spitting on his cock.

“Fuck,” he curses, as his pupils dilate watching the thicky, frothy mix of your spit ooze down from your pursed lips onto his dick. “W–what are you—” You motion for him to stand up, orienting yourself so that your throat was hanging off the bed and you were on your back on his mattress.

“Since you’re so desperate,” you give him a deadly sweet smile as he stands, dick above your face. You give his tip a little kiss, and he shivers. “You can fuck my throat.”

Satoru definitely takes you up on that offer.

He can’t even believe that he’s here, you deepthroating his dick so nice. “Thank you, thank you,” he whines, gyrating his hips sloppily into the tight, wet heat of your mouth as your lips suckle on him. “Needed this so, so much.” You’ve even uncovered your tits, them bouncing nicely as Satoru continuously lodges himself in your throat. “Please, please let me cum.”

You gently push against his hips, indicating you want him out of your mouth. Raspily, you wipe the trail of spit that’s left your mouth and laugh meanly and give him a deceptively sweet kiss on his balls. “You have to last at least 10 more minutes, okay?”

And Satoru can do nothing but obey you, driving himself to the hinge of climax but never over, whimpering as your mouth swallows him up.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ BIG DICKED BULLY FUCKS CUTE ANIME GIRL INTO SUBMISSION!

Your safe haven is your library. There, the man who’s been torturing you for most of your college career, Suguru Geto, doesn’t know where you hide, nor does he frequent the place. You’re focused in on your assignments right now, having fallen behind due to Suguru’s antics of bothering you and disturbing your peace to humiliate you across campus. It’s late at night, and there’s not a lot of people to disturb you. You thought.

You’re wrenched out of your state of focus as someone harshly pulls your chair back, grabbing your chin to meet your eyes with his. Your bully, Suguru.

You gasp in surprise as he roves his eyes over you and what you’re wearing. A short skirt, one he dare wouldn’t admit made you look cute, and a sweater. Silently, he sits down while you tremble, looking at him with shaky eyes that makes his cock swell in his pants.

He smirks. “You thought you could hide from me?” He then ticks his head towards your textbook. “Whatcha reading? Recite it to me.”

Even though you were confused as to why he would have you do that, you hurried to do as he said. Meanwhile, his siren eyes roved over your form, choosing to settle in between your thighs.

“Schroedinger’s theory had proved classical physicists wro—-“ You’re interrupted by your own gasp, because Suguru’s laid a hand that’s gently caressing your inner thigh.

“Go on,” he purrs, getting closer and closer to the heat of your pussy.

You swallow and go on. “…had proved classical physicists wrong, showing that unexplained phenomena in spectroscopy and atoms demonstrated discrete—-“

Meanwhile, he’s inched his hand inside of your panties, softly rubbing at your clit in a manner unbecoming of the mean Suguru you know. Before you know it, your orgasm was creeping up on you, and your legs were trembling while Suguru buried his face in your neck, giving you soft kisses.

“Cmon, you slut,” he whispered, the softness of his voice contrasting with the harshness of his words, “are you too stupid to read?”

You whimper as he delves a finger into your hole, collecting the ooze there and going back to your clit. “…atoms demonstrated discrete properties, referred to as quanta—-“ It’s with a nasty lick to the shell or your ear that you’re cumming, squealing loudly as you cream on his fingers, humiliated at the show you were forced to put on in the library.

Suguru pulls his fingers out and sucks on them languidly, looking you in the eye. “Now slut, you’re going to do that seated on my dick. Got it?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n hiii pookies this was late sorry </3 but ANYWAYS im excited to write (and ride) cowboy geto and spiderman!gojo next! consider joining my kinktober taglist if you're interested <3 part 1 of this here btw

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :p

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits

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classyrbf · 6 months ago

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YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN

SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop

INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

TOJI

toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.

GOJO

ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.

NANAMI

nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.

GETO

geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”

CHOSO

I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.

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tonycries · 9 months ago

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Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna.

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.”

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too.

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You.

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?” You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.

Weird.

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account?

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got.

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.”

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off.

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man.

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion.

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor.

This was absolute torture.

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…”

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice.

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand.

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now.

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips.

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to admit - “-virgin.”

Oh.

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped.

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not?

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation.

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted.

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly.

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice.

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again.

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is.

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other.

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit.

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it.

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?”

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were.

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy.

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster.

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices.

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you.

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm.

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more.

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet.

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both?

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection.

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door.

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone.

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock!

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing.

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word.

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you. Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world.

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully.

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all.

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles.

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead.

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy.

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter?????

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack.

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy.

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already.

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game.

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum.

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over.

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him.

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you.

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will.

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there.

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter.

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

“Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.”

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body.

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him.

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but.

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you?

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit.

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again.

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you.

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you.

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs. So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all.

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won.

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera.

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies??

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right?

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected.

Plagiarism not authorized.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo #gojo x reader

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obviousanon · 6 months ago

Note

As someone who genuinely enjoyed watching the movie, I was struggling to pinpoint what exactly was bothering me about it.

This exactly encapsulates why I felt off: it's the goddamn Logan plothole. Like OP said, we could have very easily had *our* version of Wolverine, but instead they give us some guy to replace him and expect us to fill in the blanks. The story didn't give me a reason to give a shit about him & whenever they did, it didn't feel deserved or like it made sense.

I realize now that I loved the movie not because it was particularly well written, but because I just genuinely enjoy Logan & Wade's dynamics-- even if it's with a version of Logan I didn't exactly know.

Yk..i feel like i would enjoy Deadpool and Wolverine more if i liked these versions of the chsracters as much as everyone else seems to. And it's not that i hate them or anything, but they're just not MY guys, Hughs Wolverine is a tall ruggedly handsome leading man who's a typical berserker, the Wolverine i am into is a short, kinda ugly feral asshole that's both the biggest badass in the room but also a weeb bookworm and an unintentional adoptive father/older brother with his dumb fucking hair and side-burns and dresses like a bisexual lumberjack/cowboy, he hates poachers and loves petting deer, and he can talk to animals making him a Disney princess too. The movies just don't give me that, it's too serious, too embarassed of itself, Logan isn't enough of an unlikeable messy asshole in the movies, he's not explosive enough, he's a very Clint Eastkwood type. And same for Wade, i like Ryans Wade well enough, but he's too clean, too marketable, too empty and dumb. I am just not into them, they're too pretty, too nice, too clean, too marketable, they're made into more typical leading types and i am not a fan.....God, sorry for that rant.

hey. i love these versions of the characters and i hated the movie. i honestly really do like movie-pool - i just hated him here. i love hugh jackman's wolverine. but this –

i get that logan is quite a different character in the movies vs other interpretations of him, and it is downheartening that we might not ever get a more faithful to comics adaptation of logan onto the big screen but - i don't know, i'm not too sad about it because everyone always has their own version of a character in their head. my version of peter parker will never be the same as the guy on screen.

i like hugh jackman's wolverine plenty. i think hugh is great. i love his wolverine. but - this isn't even his wolverine. this wolverine is a stranger. and actually - that kind of means something. it means it's not the wolverine we've been invested in all these years, and it's not the wolverine we cried over during logan. it's not him. it's just some guy. and that's - that's not great. we don't really know this guy. i think that's the thing. the film thinks it's enough to squeeze hugh into yellow spandex and all the fans will do the heavy lifting because WOOOAAAH it's the costume we all recognise but. underneath that costume is a guy we've never seen before. never introduced to before. isn't even the guy we invested decades of films with. they're asking us to project our expectations on him, overtly. wade does it. laura does it, yadda yadda. but that's not him. it's pointedly not him. it's a blank slate in wolverine's clothing that we're meant to project our expectations on. so. you need to actually put the work in to make us care about this guy. we care about him SOLELY because of our expectations of him, based on all the familiar iconography. the suit, hugh jackman, the claws... this movie is dependant ENTIRELY on you being able to recognise things and attach meaning to them. otherwise, there's no actual substance there.

if you didn't know the yellow suit from the comics you'd probably look at it and say "that's a stupid suit" - that's it. they're just banking on you overlooking the objective stupidity of it, because you recognise it and therefore it must be important and not stupid.

i think it was a bad move to make this a different wolverine. i think it was a bad move to have this movie follow-up on the events of logan - i think it was all bad moves. it should've been our logan, of wade's era. it doesn't even make sense for this to happen after logan. logan is set after the x-men are gone. so how is colossus and negasonic and yukio there and how did wade have all those x-men shenanigans in previous movies? that's fine. who cares. no rules.

it's just maddening to me. 10000 decisions that crumble immediately under any sort of scrutiny whatsoever. can't do it. can't do it.

#that being said im a bitch ass fanservice freak and I genuinely enjoyed all the comic references and seeing all the old characters come back #even if it doesn’t make sense #i loved seeing Gambit too #i think the movie was enjoyable if I turn my brain off #the second I start thinking about it I start getting sick about it lmfao #i dont give a shit about the MCU anymore lmfao they clearly only egg fans off with fanservices #anyway this is ur daily reminder to watch X-Men '97 #also just read the comics

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gf2bellamy · 12 days ago

Text

drunk — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: spencer is drunk and is spilling things about your relationship content warnings: established relationship, drunk spencer, the team mocking them a/n: i've never had a sip of alcohol so if i made any mistake i'm very sorry honestly i just went of what i've seen in tv shows, movies and books

The neon glow of the bar cast a warm haze over the room as you sat nestled in the corner booth, sipping your soda.

The ice clinked softly against the glass as you absentmindedly swirled the straw, half-listening to Garcia and Emily’s gossip.

Their conversation faded into the background, however, as your attention drifted elsewhere—specifically, to the two men across the room.

Spencer Reid, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, was talking at a rapid pace, gesturing wildly with his hands as Derek Morgan grinned at him, clearly entertained. Your brows furrowed as Derek slid another drink into Spencer’s hands.

You sighed, not bothering to hide your disapproval.

“What’s up with you?” Emily asked, her head tilting slightly as she sipped from her drink.

“That.” You nodded toward the scene unfolding across the room.

Emily followed your gaze just in time to see Spencer take another eager gulp of whatever Derek had handed him. A second later, Derek’s mouth dropped open before he burst into laughter, clapping Spencer on the back like a proud older brother.

“Yeah… Morgan’s having way too much fun with drunk Spencer,” you muttered, narrowing your eyes at them.

Spencer, completely unaware of your scrutiny, continued rambling, his hands moving faster than his words. Meanwhile, Derek's smile just grew bigger and bigger.

Garcia snorted. “Oh, come on, it’s adorable.”

You weren’t sure if you’d call it adorable. More like mildly concerning. Because if history had taught you anything, drunk Spencer Reid was unpredictable—and God help anyone who had to deal with him when the alcohol finally hit its peak.

And from the looks of it, the moment was about to happen or based on Derek's grin , has happened already.

“What is he doing?” you mumbled, eyes narrowing as you watched the two of them. You had a bad feeling about this.

Garcia glanced at you with a smirk. “Sweetheart, we are at a bar. That’s what people do. You know… drink?” She gestured pointedly at your own glass.

You scoffed, lifting your soda in mock acknowledgment. “Yeah, well, some of us have to drive,” you muttered before taking another sip.

Before Garcia could quip back, you caught movement out of the corner of your eye. Derek had turned toward you, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face.

Oh no.

Your stomach dropped. “Oh god,” you muttered.

Oblivious to what was happening around him, Spencer continued rambling, hands flailing dramatically.

You watched, unamused, as Derek made his way over to you, his smirk growing wider with every step.

Trailing beside him, Spencer was entirely oblivious. He barely paid attention to where he was walking, nearly stumbling into Derek at one point, but that didn’t stop him.

When they finally reached your booth, Derek didn’t even bother with pleasantries. Instead, he kept his gaze locked on you, his grin downright devious.

“You don’t say?” he mused, clearly continuing whatever conversation Spencer had been having—though it was obvious his real focus was on you.

Spencer finally seemed to register where he was, his hazy eyes flickering to you. He blinked, as if surprised to see you there.

“Hi,” he said, his voice slightly softer than before.

Before you could respond, he slid into the booth beside you—well, more like half on top of you. He scooted in so close that his thigh was practically draped over yours.

You stared at him. “Hi.”

He grinned, leaning in ever so slightly, the scent of alcohol and something distinctly Spencer clinging to him. His eyes, glassy but bright, studied your face with open admiration, like he was seeing you for the first time all over again.

His curls were a mess, strands falling over his face, making him look even more disheveled than usual. You reached up instinctively, tucking a stray lock behind his ear, but he barely seemed to notice.

“Seems like you’re having fun,” you murmured, shifting your gaze to Derek, who was watching the interaction with barely contained amusement.

Derek simply shrugged. “Guess so.”

You turned back to Spencer, who was still staring at you—completely dazed, his hazel eyes glassy and unfocused, like you were the most fascinating thing in the room.

With a chuckle, Derek turned his attention to Garcia and Emily, leaving you to deal with your very drunk boyfriend.

“You okay?” you asked softly, tilting your head as you brushed more of his hair out of his face.

Spencer hummed in response, his eyes fluttering shut for a second before he blinked them open again. “Mhm.”

You let your fingers linger in his curls, absentmindedly threading through them, and Spencer melted under your touch.

“What were you telling Derek back there?” you asked, keeping your voice gentle, watching as his eyelids drooped slightly.

He mumbled something incoherent before finally managing, “M’don’t remember.”

Before you could press further, he sighed contently and let his head drop onto your shoulder, his body going slack against yours.

Your hand was still tangled in his hair and you felt his breath fan against your neck as he let out another sleepy hum.

Now Garcia and Emily were both staring at you, matching grins on their faces. You frowned.

“What?” you asked warily.

Emily’s smile widened. “Oh, nothing. It’s just… Spencer had a lot to say about you.”

On cue, Spencer lifted his head from your shoulder at the sound of his name, his movements slow and a little clumsy. You turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

His brows furrowed in concentration, as if trying to grasp onto a fleeting thought. “I remember now,” he said, dragging out the words, squeezing his eyes shut like that might help jog his memory. “I think.”

You waited, not sure if you wanted to hear whatever was about to come out of his mouth.

“I told them… about how much you like touching my hair,” he finally said, his voice a little too loud, like he was completely unaware of the fact that everyone was now hanging onto his every word.

Your mouth fell open. “What?”

You whipped your head toward Emily, Garcia, and Derek—who were all watching you with knowing smirks, looking way too amused for your liking.

“Oh, and I told them about how you—” he paused, blinking a few times, “—always trace patterns on my back when you think I’m asleep.”

Your face burned.

Spencer, oblivious to your horror, continued, his voice dreamy and soft. “And how you always steal my cardigans, even though you claim they drown you and make you look ridiculous. But I know you secretly love wearing them.”

Derek let out a full laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, this is gold.”

Garcia sighed dramatically, clutching her chest. “That’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Spencer, why—”

He leaned in even closer, his lips nearly brushing your ear as he whispered—though it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, given his current state—“And I told them that you—”

You slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

Spencer blinked at you, wide-eyed, and you felt his lips curl into a grin against your palm.

“Okay, Spence, I need you to stop talking now,” you said firmly, your hand still covering his mouth.

Spencer blinked at you, his hazel eyes glassy with amusement. Slowly , hesitantly , you removed your hand, watching him like he was a ticking time bomb.

Then you turned to your friends.

“Don’t,” you warned, narrowing your eyes as Derek parted his lips, no doubt ready to deliver some smart remark.

Derek smirked. “But—”

“Don’t say anything,” you groaned, already exhausted, cutting him off with a pointed look.

Emily took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, her expression entirely unreadable as she observed the chaos unfolding in front of her.

Penelope, however, was a different story.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed, placing a hand over her heart as she looked between you and Spencer like you were her new favorite romance novel come to life. “This is adorable. I mean, we knew you were soft for our resident genius, but this?” She gestured at Spencer, who was still pressed against you, his head once again finding its way to your shoulder. “This is next-level domesticity.”

You sighed, “I am never letting him drink around you guys again.”

Spencer hummed sleepily against your shoulder. “M’not even that drunk.”

Derek let out a loud laugh. “Oh, you so are.”

Spencer attempted to lift his head in protest but gave up halfway and settled deeper into your side. “M’just happy,” he mumbled, and if your heart didn’t squeeze at that, you’d be lying.

Emily set down her drink, eyes glinting with mischief. “So, what else does our drunk genius have to say about you?”

You shot her a glare. “Emily.”

Spencer, on the other hand, perked up slightly, as if the question had unlocked another memory.

“Oh!” he said suddenly, lifting his head, a dreamy smile spreading across his face. “I also told Derek about how you always fall asleep on my chest when we watch movies, even though you swear you never fall asleep during movies.”

Derek actually clapped at that one. “Man, you are so whipped.”

You buried your face in your hands as Garcia gasped dramatically, reaching for Emily’s arm like she might faint. “They’re so disgustingly cute! .”

Spencer, now clearly on a roll, turned his dopey, love-struck gaze back to you. “And I told them—”

You groaned. “Spencer!”

He grinned, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Love you,” he mumbled sleepily.

You patted Spencer’s thigh three times—a silent I love you, too, acting as if you weren't melting completely on the inside. You weren’t about to give your friends any more teasing material.

“We’re going home,” you announced, realizing how sleepy Spencer was getting.

Derek groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on. We wanna hear more.” His grin was absolutely wicked.

At that, Spencer lifted his head slightly, as if he was about to continue his drunken confessions.

You shot him a look—a playful but very clear don’t even think about it kind of look. “Spence.”

His lips parted like he was going to argue, but instead, he let out a soft hum and dropped his head back onto your shoulder, completely surrendering.

Derek laughed. "Man, he's totally wrapped around your finger."

You ignored him, instead rubbing soothing circles into Spencer’s back. His eyes fluttered closed, and he was half-asleep, his weight pressing into you completely.

“One word about this at work,” you warned, shifting your gaze between the three of them, “and I’m never talking to you guys again.”

Emily smirked over the rim of her glass. “Oh, sure. No words at work. Can’t promise about the PowerPoint presentation Garcia is definitely going to make, though.”

Garcia gasped, scandalized. “Emily, you know me so well.”

You groaned. “I hate all of you.” Derek chuckled, waving you off. “Nah, you love us.”

Spencer hummed sleepily. “Mhm. Love them.”

You sighed, adjusting him slightly. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get you home, Dr. Love-Confessions.”

“Okay, come on,” you sighed, scooting Spencer out of the booth. He stood—well, wobbled—barely managing to keep himself upright.

You steadied him with a hand on his arm as he instinctively laced his fingers through yours, clearly unwilling to let go. His drunken state had made him extra clingy, but you weren’t exactly complaining.

Turning back to your friends, you gave them a pointed look. “I’ll see you all at work,” you said, voice laced with warning. “Where we’re only going to have professional conversations. Got it?”

Emily smirked, raising her glass in mock agreement. “Oh, sure. Definitely professional.”

Garcia let out a dramatic sigh. “No gossip whatsoever,” she said, not even trying to sound convincing.

Derek just grinned, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

Meanwhile, Spencer was barely paying attention to any of this. His eyes had glazed over, staring blankly into the distance as if lost in thought—or maybe just lost in general.

You exhaled, already exhausted and thinking of calling in sick.

“You,” you said, pointing a finger at Derek, “you get to pay for both our drinks.”

Derek’s eyebrows shot up, realization dawning on him. “Whoa, hold up—”

“Nope,” you cut him off immediately, shaking your head. “Not happening. You let him get like this, you pay for it.”

Derek let out a laugh, looking at Spencer, who was still in his own little world. “Man, I didn’t force him to drink.”

You shrugged. “Don’t care. Enjoy the bill.” You tugged Spencer’s hand, leading him toward the exit.

“Bye,” he mumbled sleepily, barely loud enough to be heard. His steps were slow, and his body felt heavier against yours.

You pushed open the door with your free hand, the cool night air rushing past you. Spencer let out a quiet sigh at the change in temperature, his grip on your hand tightening just a little.

Without thinking, you started tracing slow, comforting circles with your thumb over his skin.

Spencer hummed softly, leaning into you as you walked toward the car. “Feels nice,” he mumbled.

You glanced at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he nodded lazily, his curls falling into his face again. “You always do that.”

“I guess I do,” you smiled softly at your boyfriend, your heart warm as he squeezed your hand tighter.

Spencer didn’t seem to notice how tightly he was holding onto you as you arrived next to your car. But when you tried to pull your hand out of his grasp, he made a small noise of protest, a soft whimper that almost made you stop in your tracks.

“Spence,” you said gently, “I need to look for my keys.”

His hand reluctantly loosened, but his gaze never left you. You opened your bag, rummaging through the contents, your eyes scanning for the keys.

“You usually keep them in your front pocket,” Spencer mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

You froze, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, right.”

Without missing a beat, you reached into your front pocket, feeling the familiar jingle of your keys. “Thanks, Spence,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, as you unlocked the car.

You quickly moved to open the passenger door, holding it wide. “Okay, come on. Sit down.”

Spencer gave you a sleepy, lazy look but you gently tugged him towards the car, your touch soft yet insistent. His steps were slow, and as he started to get into the car, you reached up to guide his head down so he wouldn’t hit it on the top of the doorframe.

“Head down,” you instructed, your voice a little more authoritative than usual, though the affection in your tone made it clear you were only looking out for him.

Spencer let out a soft, obedient hum as he finally slumped into the passenger seat. His body collapsed back into the seat like a ragdoll, eyes heavy.

“Good,” you said, closing the door behind him, watching as he settled into the seat, already half-asleep.

As you slid into the driver's seat and closed the door behind you, you glanced over at Spencer. His head was resting against the seat, eyes shut, his expression soft and peaceful. You couldn’t help but feel a little bad for disturbing his rest.

“Do you want to go to your apartment?” you asked quietly, glancing at him as you started the car.

Spencer’s voice was barely above a whisper when he replied, “I wanna stay with you.”

You paused, looking at him—his face relaxed, eyes still closed as if he were half in a dream. Your fingers itched to reach out, and you gently brushed a stray lock of hair out of his eyes. He hummed contentedly at the contact, leaning into your touch without even realizing it.

You smiled softly, your heart melting at how utterly endearing he was. “Okay. We’ll go to my apartment, then.”

You drove in silence for a few minutes, just listening to the soft hum of the engine and Spencer’s breathing. It wasn’t long before you arrived, and as you parked in your spot, you glanced over at him.

He hadn’t moved, still in the same sleepy position, his head leaning against the seat.

“Spence,” you said gently, turning off the car. “We’re here.”

All he did was hum in response, barely acknowledging you.

You sighed softly, knowing this was going to take a little effort. Stepping out of the car, you closed your door quietly before making your way to the passenger side.

When you opened the door, Spencer was practically asleep, his head resting against the seat, lips slightly parted. He looked so peaceful, you almost felt bad for waking him.

“Spence,” you muttered, reaching out to touch his shoulder lightly. He didn’t budge.

You frowned, leaning in slightly—careful not to hit your head on the car frame—as you gave his shoulder a firmer shake. Still nothing.

“Spencer,” you said a little louder, this time with a touch of amusement in your voice.

Finally, he stirred, cracking one eye open lazily.

“Hi,” you greeted with a soft smile, watching as he blinked sluggishly.

He let out a slow breath, rubbing his face with one hand. “We’re here?” he mumbled, voice thick with exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Spencer groaned lightly, shifting in his seat as if even the thought of moving was too much effort.

You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’ll help you, but you have to stand up, Spence.”

With a deep sigh, he finally nodded and let you pull him to his feet. He swayed slightly, and you immediately steadied him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Whoa there, genius,” you murmured, adjusting your grip. “Let’s not face-plant in the parking lot.”

Spencer huffed out a sleepy chuckle, leaning into you more than he probably realized. “You’re warm,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, but your smile never faded. “Yeah, well, let’s get you inside where it’s actually warm, okay?”

“Okay,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper as you guided him inside the building. He leaned into you slightly, his steps slow and heavy.

As you waited in front of the elevator, the only sound was the distant hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional ding from the floors above. You tapped your foot lightly against the tile, watching the numbers slowly descend.

Then, out of nowhere, Spencer spoke again, his voice soft but certain.

“I like you a lot, you know that?”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sudden confession, but the sincerity in his hazel eyes made your heart melt. His gaze was a little unfocused, heavy with sleep and alcohol, but the emotion behind his words was crystal clear.

“I know, Spence,” you said, smiling warmly as you reached up and brushed his curls away from his face again. It was something so simple, yet something you always found yourself doing.

He leaned into your touch instinctively, his body seeking out your warmth.

The elevator doors finally slid open with a ding, and you gently tugged his hand to lead him inside. As soon as the doors shut, Spencer sighed and rested his head on your shoulder, his body completely relaxed against yours.

“You smell nice,” he murmured, his voice muffled against your jacket.

You let out a soft laugh, wrapping an arm around him for support. “Thanks, Spence. You smell like alcohol and bad decisions.”

He chuckled sleepily, barely lifting his head. “Bad decisions? No, no. Liking you is the best decision.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, you just stared at him, warmth spreading through your chest. Even drunk and barely coherent, Spencer Reid somehow managed to be the sweetest person alive.

The elevator doors opened, and you shook your head fondly, guiding him toward your apartment. “Come on, Casanova. Let’s get you to bed before you pass out in the hallway.”

Spencer let out a hum of agreement, still clinging onto your hand like he never wanted to let go.

You let go of him just long enough to unlock the door, pushing it open before guiding him inside. As soon as you shut it behind you, Spencer immediately reached for you again, clinging onto you like he had no intention of letting go.

You sighed fondly, helping him shrug off his jacket while he clumsily toed off his shoes.

“Okay, Spencer, just a couple more steps,” you encouraged, wrapping an arm around his waist as you led him toward your bedroom.

When you reached the bed, he sat down heavily, sighing as his body sunk into the mattress. His eyes scanned the room, though they were hazy with sleep. “I like your room,” he mumbled, as if just realizing where he was.

You smiled softly, watching as he flopped back against the pillows, his head sinking into the plush fabric.

“Me too,” you murmured, standing by the edge of the bed as you watched him.

Spencer’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment, but then, with a small, sleepy smile, he peeked up at you again.

“You know… I think my favorite thing about your room is that you live in it,” he said, his voice thick with exhaustion but filled with sincerity.

Your heart swelled at the unexpected sweetness of his words.

You shook your head with a soft laugh, brushing his curls out of his face once more. “You’re such a sap when you’re drunk, Spence.”

His smile grew just a little. “M’not drunk,” he mumbled, already halfway to sleep. “Just in love.”

You felt warmth spread through your chest as you pulled the blanket over him, watching as he relaxed further into the bed.

“Go to sleep, Spencer,” you whispered, but the smile on your lips never faded.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x you #spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds angst

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rhaeheartzsquirrelz · 1 month ago

Text

Sweet

Sevika x Female Reader

Soft, emotional sex with Sevikidiki where you end up sobbing ‘cause she’s too sweet.

Cw: Sex: fingering, strap on, praise. Soft dom Sevika. Sub Reader.

MEN DO NOT INTERACT!!!!!!!

Proofread || Note: It was so fun writing this, I hope you enjoy :) Also, please ignore any spelling/grammar mistakes, i tried my hardest to keep them out!

Her flesh arm wrapped around your waist and you found yourself pinned against her chest. Her lips latched onto hers as she kissed you with an abundance of care and love. Never was there a moment of roughness, of the slightest bit of pain; being a grip or a pull.

Sevika’s hand slithered down to your shorts, entering from your front and pressing against your clit. She slowly moved, causing your breath to heavy and your heart to spike.

Your bedroom was prepared for a movie night, a night where you and your girlfriend could just cuddle. But, things seemed to escalate. There was a change of plans.

The warm light from your lamp illuminated the room, and your freshly lit candles now made the situation much more romantic. The room smelled heavenly, and so did Sevika’s kissing. She was gentle with how much pressure she applied, not wanting to get too intense. You didn’t mind her softness, matter of fact you actually wanted more of it. She’d taken off her prosthetic in order to cuddle with you better. In order to keep away any sharp metals from you. That was the kind of woman she was; only with you, however.

Her middle teased your entrance, finertip going in before slipping right now. She was testing the waters, seeing if you she’d need lube or not— she didn’t. Tongue slipping out of your mouth, lips unattaching, Sevika pulled back with a heavy breath, her eyes opening and she met yours.

“Can I?” Her voice quieter, slightly shaky. “Yeah, I want you to.” And with your approval, she let her finger, carefully, move in. “Y’want me to add another? You don’t have to.” Her grey eyes watching as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. “Uh-huh, go ahead.” You, barely able to hold yourself together, nodded. A hand on her cheek with the other on the side of her neck, you hold back a whimper as she added another. It didn’t hurt, no, but it definitely took you a few seconds to get used to. Considering Sevika’s fingers were quite large. “Does it hurt? Tell me to stop if y’need me to, alright?” Her dark lips pressing a kiss on your forehead, letting you know you could say no whenever you wanted to.

She slowly picked up her pace, from slow curls to harder ones, the tips of her fingers found her target and she hit it. You clung to her as she did so, moaning into her shoulder all the while having her kiss your neck. “Is this good, baby?” Her low voice vibrating through you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s.. good.” Awsome was what you wanted to say. It felt awsome.

Her warm breath brushed against your heated skin, causing you to feel hot. Burning hot. The fast beating of your heart and the heavy breaths you were taking only added to the fire; your body was sweating. And the thought of Seika being in you had your mind giddy, had it working extra hard to make you feel good. And you did. Even in the process of making you cum you felt a sort of high you’d only experience with your girlfriend.

“God, you’re so beautiful like this,” she’d whisper with a suck at your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys. “Don’t stop.. Sev.. that’s so.. fucking good— don’t stop, please!” You’d ramble on, jaw dropping at the familiar pooling in your core. “Y’think I would? I’m offended, love.” Her lips hidden and curled into a smile, she was proud of herself.

Your walls squished against her middle and ring, responding to the experienced curling she was doing inside of you. Your girlfriend even commented; “Feeling good? You’re all tight.” And, yes, it made your face feel hot. How could it not? Her smugness added to the sensation she was, lovingly, providing. It was the way she acknowledged how you reacted that made you whine, made you embarrassed. It even made you further more attracted to her.

“My pretty girl’s so close, I can feel it.” Smothering your neck with hickeys and kisses; only so you’d have a constant reminder of her. “Mm-hm, I am.” Your breathless words causing your woman to fasten her pace. “I can’t.. please! god it’s so good..”

Your hands clenched onto her shoulders as you, yourself, clung onto her. A cry of pleasure escaped your lips and your hips slightly shuddered against her as she helped you ride out your orgasm. Sevika even pulled back to see your face, watch as you came all over her fingers, it was a sight she never truly got used to. It was addictive being able to make her girl so happy.

“Perfect. You were perfect.” Slipping out of you and pulling you close with her wrists; her hand avoiding any contact. “How’d that feel, pretty thing?” Lips pecking yours before she gave you a chance to talk. “Like you said, it was perfect.”

A low humm of acknowledgment came from your girlfriend and she nuzzled into you, forehead resting against your shoulder. “It’s only ten. Can I get the strap?” Know this stuff knocks you out in a few.” She was reffering to the fact that she, herself, could have you asleep faster than any melatonin could. “Sure, but only one round.” You were already exhausted from a little fingering, you doubted you could get through Sevika’s pounding.

At your approval, she quickly grabbed, and slid on, the strap. Clicking the belt in place before plopping down next to you. “What position, ma’am?” Tone all teasing as she had a hand on your arm. “Mm.. I dunno? From the front? That’s the easiest?” She nodded in agreement. “You don’t mind if I have on my mech, do ya?” “Nope.”

From the front was what you got.

Ankles on her shoulders, arms overhead, and your body ready, your girlfriend pressed the tip of her strap to your entrance. Her mech and flesh holding onto your thighs as she slowly, and oh so carefully, pushed inside. Sevika’s strap was thick and long, easily larger than her two fingers— and it took you a while to get used to. “Deep breaths, babe.” Flesh hand pressing down on your lower abdomen, it was her way of making you feel more.

“Trying.” Was your breathless response, head tilted to the side to see the bulge in your skin. Sevika only smiled down at the sight, soaking in the way her strap looked with you wrapped around it. “Convinced every inch of you is beautiful.” The woman leaned forward, holding onto your ankles and slowly beginning to thrust. Your body, as usual, recoiled, and your hands clenched onto the the pillow beneath your clouded head.

Your eyes rolled back as Sevika’s hips rolled deep into you, hitting her target all the while rubbing against your tight walls. She could feel the pressure, the repeated squishing everytime she entered, even the way she had to push hard into you. You were wet, soaked, and it made the job easier. Louder, too. The quiet yet noticeable squelching noises from you filled the room, thanks to your girlfriend.

Not even a few minutes in and you were feeling your stomach pool again. The same heat that would make you feel good formed and you found yourself utterly taken away by the sensation jolting throughout your body. Every part of you enjoyed it.

“Close already?” The woman grunted, wrapping your legs around her hips and deciding to pull you against her chest. “I can’t..” you managed to say, barely able to keep yourself composed. “Sev, I.. fuck— it’s too much,” “need me to stop?” She knew you’d say no, she’d never heard the word leave your mouth. “Don’t.. please, I’m close.”

And she didn’t. Sevika never slowed her pace. Her only goal, at the moment, was to make you cum, all the while feeling loved. She showed so by peppering your forehead with kisses, intertwining her fingers with yours, holding your hands above your head, and whispering soft words in your ear. “You’re doing great, love,” she’d say as she pressed a kiss on the shell of your ear. “Gonna cum for me, hm? Go ahead, baby.” All the while pounding into you. “My girl sounds so pretty, don’t you?” As she lets you burry your face into her shoulder and whimper, moan, as much as you wanted to.

Even though your girlfriend was thrusting hard, she wasn’t being rough. She knew how you needed it, how much you could handle. She’d never push your limits, if that had even crossed her mind. “Vika,” your voice shaky as you sniffle against her skin. Her warmth mixing into yours, her grunts sending a light shiver through you, and her breath tickling your neck. “Is something wrong?” Her pace slowing as she wiped at your wet cheek. “No, don’t stop.. please.” Heart racing in your chest as you said those words. You’d repeated them a thousand times; but they really were true.

“Baby, I’m not.” Sevika, though worried, fastened her pace again and leaned on her arms to get a better look at you. Brows furrowed, eyes lidded and wet, lips parted, with your face heated. As cute as you looked, she had to ask the question. “What’s wrong?” Grey eyes staring deeply into yours. “Later.. I’ll tell.. you later.”

There was nothing wrong, just the fact that you were overwhelmed with the amount of care and love she put in every thrust, every touch. It was adorable and just so sweet that it had you sobbing.

Your orgasm was just as good as the last and, afterwards, Sevika slipped off her strap and decided to cuddle you. “Too much?” She asked, voice quiet and soft, “No, I never said that.” Your face showing your embarrassment. “Then, what? Did I hurt you?” your girlfriend had her prosthetic off again, so her flesh hand did most of the touching. “No, you’re just really nice. That’s all.”

“Nice? I’m really nice?” She repeated, “what does that mean?”

“It means I love you.”

“Oh? That’s.. new.” Her brows raised in surprise. “I love you, too. Even though you cry over stupid things.”

“Those were happy tears—“ “Yeah, alright. You had me worried about happy tears.”

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 7 months ago

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Deadpool and Wolverine might actually be the best love letter to Marvel that I’ve seen.

On a meta level, the movie feels like it was written in response to people dismissing the Marvel properties that aren’t the MCU. The MCU is the “Sacred Timeline” while everyone else gets thrown into the trash aka the Void. Wade even tried to become an Avenger because he feels that his life doesn’t matter. Then, Wade gets a chance to join the MCU. Of course, he’s thrilled, but is then told that the rest of his universe is getting destroyed since they lost its “anchor” (aka it lost its relevance). So, Wade decides to fight for his universe.

On a surface level, you can read this movie as a criticism of the MCU in that it’s treating the only stories worth a damn as the ones coming from that universe. But I don’t think that’s the case. I mean, first off, this was made by Marvel Studios. Feige and Co had to sign off on this and a great deal of the plot stems from the Loki show. Second, the movie felt more like it was trying to say that ALL Marvel stories matter. It’s not really criticizing the MCU, it’s criticizing how audiences view the Marvel movies/shows that aren’t the MCU. The “why should I care about this movie if it doesn’t lead to the next Avengers movie” attitude.

That’s why I say this was the best love letter to Marvel I’ve seen. It’s a celebration of the company’s works, both MCU and non-MCU. You can see that from the Easter eggs, the cameos, the nods to the fandom, and the emphasis on forgotten characters getting a chance at redemption. Even the jabs at the company and fanbase feel like they come from a place of love.

But what really sold me on this movie being a love letter to Marvel was the ending. Instead of a tease to a potential De4dpool movie, it was a montage of the development of the Fox Marvel movies (I can’t say X-Men since clips of the Fantastic Four were there). On one side, it’s a touching send-off to the Fox X-Men franchise. On the other side, it felt like a reminder of why people love Marvel to begin with. It’s these people - actors, writers, directors, producers - coming together to make these entertaining stories for us, to bring the comics to life on the big screen. It’s like Ryan Reynolds was telling us to take a step back from all the conspiracy theorizing, nitpicking, and fanbase drama for a couple of hours, that we should just enjoy this Marvel movie as it is.

And it worked. It was genuinely just a fun, awesome movie to watch. If we’re using the MCU-as-a-TV-show-analogy that people love using, Deadpool and Wolverine is the 100th episode that is made dedicated to the fans and celebrating the show as a whole. It’s a fanservice movie done right, one that goes beyond just references and cameos.

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seobinghard · 3 months ago

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₊‧ʚ・ gullible ⊹ ̟˖ ʚ

18+ MDNI

dom!yunho, dom!mingi x afab!sub!reader ⭑ tags: best friend!au ⭑ tw: corruption kink, size kink, dubcon, manipulation, subtle sub/dom space, somnophilia, praising, finger sucking, unprotected sex (pls use protection), creampie. lmk if i missed anything ⭑ summary: you should've known better.

best friends!yunho and mingi love having you sit in between them. whether you're on the subway, at the club or on the couch binge watching old hollywood movies. you just look so small and fragile with your cute glossy eyes and pouty lips, they can't help but feel the urge to protect and be close to you all the time. sometimes, they'll sneak their arms around your waist or slip their hands between your thighs, large palms gently caressing your bare skin, but that's only because the movie is scary and they want to help you relax. right?

when you've had one too many drinks at hongjoong's after parties, yunho would beckon you to come over and sit on his lap. "y/n, c'mere." you'll snuggle up to him like a little kitten and lay your legs on mingi's as he absentmindedly fiddles with the straps of your heels, hooded eyes flitting from your lips to the curve of your breasts. from afar, people are staring and whispering but you don't care. because yunho and mingi always tells you "they don't know us, baby."

and you believe them. you believe them completely because best friends always tell the truth, right?

yunho and mingi are always there to catch you when you fall.

flat tire? calling yunho. "i'm on my way, angel." bad day? facetiming mingi. "talk to me, pretty girl." every time there's a minor inconvenience in your life, you're running straight to your favourite boys because they just know how to handle anything and everything with such ease and responsibility. problems fixed. cheque signed. "it's okay, angel, we got this."

no one loves you like yunho and mingi.

they love you so much.

so when mingi tells you to wear his t-shirt and only your panties to bed, you happily nod "okay!" with no second thoughts because he only wants you to feel comfortable when they cuddle you to sleep, right? that must be it.

i mean, you do this all the time; cuddling. it's a way for them to feel closer to you; 'bond' with you, as they put it.

you love cuddling sessions with yunho and mingi, they're always so gentle with you. your petite frame a perfect fit between their broad chests, legs the perfect length for mingi to slide his knee in between as he spoons you. your skin is so soft he could tear you open like a present but he wouldn't do that. no, not to his sweet angel girl. so instead, he snakes his arm under your shirt and pulls you closer to his body so you can feel how much he loves you.

"mhm, so perfect for me," he whispers in your hair, fingers playing with the thin lace of your panties. you smell like fresh cut roses.

"you like it when we touch you, angel?" yunho asks calmly, tracing his finger along your jaw and down your neck. face propped on his elbow, he watches with a smile as you soften under his touch, nodding and purring at the affection you're receiving from both men.

"i like it, yuyu."

"you'll do anything for me and mingi, right, baby?"

"mhm, anything for yuyu and mingi," you slur, fatigue creeping up your spine.

you feel mingi smile against the nape of your neck.

something about the air feels tight and different tonight but you don't question it. you don't want to question it. especially when yunho stares at you with so much tenderness, it leaves your heart grasping for more. it's intoxicating; their scents—clean and musky like the faint trace of skin.

as the night unfolds, your eyes flutter shut as sleep takes over you.

you love best friends!yunho and mingi. nothing in the world comes even close to the euphoria of being the object of their adoration.

so when you wake up to soft pants in your ear and aching an pain between your legs, will you still love them?

"f-fuck."

mingi's groan snaps you out of your haze as you gradually slip back into your senses only to find your panties slid to the side and your best friend's sloppy wet dick inside your barely stretched-out cunt.

the sound of skin on skin cuts through the quiet of the room as mingi slams his hip into your ass at a pace so desperate, so rough it leaves you clawing at yunho's sweater with tears in your eyes. "y-yuyu? what's happening?"

yunho looks at you with eyes you've never seen on him before—chilling and dark with lust. he's quiet, eyes trailing the way your breasts bounce with every hard thrust you're forced to take from behind. soft moans slip past your lips, melding with his best friend's strained groans and the squelchy sound of your sobbing cunt.

"told you she likes it," mingi chuckles, voice crazed and raspy, one hand sliding up to grab at your neck. "yeah, you like that, baby? tell yunho you like being woken up to my dick inside you."

"i– ngnhh– i like–" your mewls are cut off when mingi slips two fingers between your folds, toying at your clit like it belongs to him. like you belong to him.

"oh, my angel," yunho coos, caressing your cheek before slipping his thumb inside your mouth. "you're so naughty."

you want to tell him 'no'—no, you didn't ask for this. but who are you to act like you're not enjoying it when you're a spluttering mess in your best friend's bed.

"shh, why're you crying?" his words are so sweet yet mockery drips from every syllable. "now, now, don't cry, my angel. be good for mingi."

yunho revels in the sight of your teary cheeks as your tongue laps around his thumb, drool leaking down your cheek and onto your pillow. god, you're fucking beautiful, he thinks, feeling his dick swell with every helpless whimper you make. he grabs your jaw and slips his tongue in your pretty little mouth, sucking at your bottom lip, and swallowing any confusion you're still harbouring, because you're not meant to have any.

the rules have been clear from the start; you belong to them. not their fault you're too gullible to see what's in front of you all this time.

"you said you'll do anything for us, remember?" yunho breaths.

"y-yes— nngh—" you whimper, feeling the knot tighten in your stomach. "mingi, i can't—"

you're close and mingi can sense it from the way you're clenching around him.

"fuck, cum for me, baby. that's it ... that's it."

it only takes you digging your nails in his hair and letting out a scream of his name for mingi to cum. he empties inside you and drops his head on the pillow, letting out a guttural groan against the back of your neck as you both come down from your high.

"such a good girl," yunho smiles, stroking your hair lovingly, "always so good for us."

his smile quickly fades.

"now turn around."

m.list

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tbaluver · 30 days ago

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HEYYYYYY

I reeeeaaalllyyyy love your father/husband headcannons and I’ve been pondering about how the lad boys would treat mc if she was pregnant?

Hope you have time to do it, but it’s completely fine if you don’t want to!!! <3

I love your work and your kindness! Keep up the amazing work and happy new years!!

How They Treat You When You're Pregnant- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre/ tags: fluff fluff a/n: HIHI again my angel !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this req reminds me of my first headcanon i ever did for this fandom and i feel like this one is a more accurate one (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) i am always grateful to hear you guys love my work thank you so much luv MWAH ILY !! it always motivates me to write and create more for you all and i hope you're having a happy new years so far !! hopefully i did this req justice lmk what you think !! ahh i hope we get to chat again and i hope you enjoy reading luv (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Pregnancy can make sleeping uncomfortable for you and whenever you’re feeling restless, he’s always right there by your side. Whether it’s waking up to comfort you, watching your favorite show together to help you unwind, or adjusting pillows to help you find a comfortable position for you, he’s happy to help. He’ll patiently wait until you’re sleeping peacefully first before he settles back right beside you.

He also doesn’t let you put on an scary movies or shows because you might scare the baby

His face would light up when he hears you want to try one of his favorite weird snack combos. Highlight the word, snacks, because you’re definitely not letting him cook near the microwave or stove.

Xavier is even more protective of you than before, if that’s even possible. Whenever someone gives you a lingering glance in the baby aisle, he’s keeping you close, his arm securely around your waist while giving that person a glance back. When you’re out in public, he doesn’t let anyone get close to your belly bump. Before they can even reach out, he’s already stopping their hand and gently guiding you away.

Xavier attends every doctor’s appointment with you. However, he does NOT like the idea of going to the OBGYN especially if it were a male doctor. You two would be out of the room immediately. However, if you're uncomfortable with any of the doctors in general, he’ll gladly switch and find a better one for you without a second thought.

He’s constantly seeking out new information on pregnancy and babies he can find and has probably read every single online article. He does all of this because he’s determined to learn everything he can to care for you and your future child.

If it were even possible, Xavier would be even gentler with you. He talks softly to your belly, his hands resting gently on your hips as he presses his ear against your stomach, listening and waiting for any movements of your future child. As long as you’re comfortable, he’ll lay down between your legs, his face against your belly while you run your fingers through his soft hair. He’ll mostly fall asleep in this position

Zayne:

Zayne would already notice the subtle signs that you were pregnant before you even realized. He’d pick up the sudden fatigue you’ve been feeling or the way you’ve been extra sensitive to smells. He’s already by your side, holding your hair back as you kneel by the toilet, vomiting. He’ll guide you back to bed, making sure you stay sitting up while he grabs you a couple crackers and a cup of tea.

Zayne is truly an organized and prepared man. He keeps track of everything, noting it down on both his and your phone so that you both have access to all the important details and reminders. He has every date for your checkups, ultrasounds, and any other appointments that are related to both your health and the baby’s. He even makes sure to keep track of which foods are safe for you and which ones to avoid. He’ll keep all the important documents in a file and even keep pictures of the ultrasounds on his desk. Zayne would also have a bag prepared months before your water breaks.

He would let you indulge in anything you crave, as long as it’s safe for you and the baby. He goes the extra mile to prepare you each meal with care and love, making sure that every dish nourishes you and supports the health of your future child. Zayne would have to gently discourage you to not eat dirt covered rocks if you were thinking of craving them. He would also ask his mother some tips when she was pregnant with him.

A surgeon's hands are trained to be precise and steady which makes him the perfect person to give you a massage. With practice care and skill, he’s able to help you release the tension in your muscles, easing every knot and carefully tending to each sore spot. He would not mind if you sat on his lap and guided his hands to your aching breasts or any sore muscle. He'll happily knead and massage them.

You would always know his schedule, so you’re aware when he has to work late. To make sure you’re taken care of when he’s working, he’d stock up on your favorite snacks and meals, making sure to place them within places you can easily reach. Throughout his shift, he’d check in on you during his breaks, texting to ask if you’ve eaten and drank enough water. He’d also make sure to call you during his lunch break just to make sure you’re doing okay and also because he misses you.

Mood swings are a nightmare and not once have they ever bothered him. Zayne is one of the best listeners to any of your worries and also in general. He understands your fears, concerns, and even the times when you overreact. He’s always there to offer you constant reassurance and to take down any fear you had. He would never belittle your emotions and always prioritizes you with unwavering support.

Unfortunately there are nights when he has to come home late, already finding you peacefully asleep in your shared bed. He can’t help but let out a quiet sigh, a soft smile displayed on his face. Quietly, he approaches your sleeping figure, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. His hands delicately trace the curve of your rounded belly before pressing a gentle kiss to it, whispering, “Good job, you didn’t wake up mommy.”

Rafayel:

The studio would ACTUALLY be clean. You’re not really sure if he stopped being lazy or if he hired someone, probably Thomas, to take care of it for him. The floor would be clear of scattered art materials, dried up paint, and the desks would actually be organized. All so you don’t accidentally step or slip on anything or have anything poking or rolling onto your belly when you sit by his desk.

Rafayel is prepared when it comes to baby names. He actually keeps an organized list in his notes app, with his favorites marked by an emoji so he can easily find them. Each name on the list has its own meaning and references. The two of you would cuddle up in bed, sharing new name ideas and laughing at the ones you can’t pronounce, making sure to cross off the ones that didn’t make the cut.

Mood swings were completely new to Rafayel and to you but he quickly learned to keep up with them. He understands that these emotions aren’t easy for you, so he’s always there, even when you need space. He’s always ready to listen and offer support through every high and low and will be there to lift your spirits up whenever you need him.

Sometimes insecurities can weigh on you and you might feel like hiding your baby bump especially when it feels like the maternal clothing isn’t quite your style. But Rafayel is always there and never fails to remind you just how beautiful you are. He’ll go above and beyond to find the perfect maternity clothes that match your taste.

Rafayel would want to document everything so you both have memories to look back on. He’ll take countless pictures of your growing belly each month, capturing the progress so you can look back on how much has changed. He’ll even create his own little maternity photoshoot for you because no other photographer can capture your beauty like him.

Rafayel loves gently caressing your baby bump, often talking to it, hoping that they can hear him. He’ll throw out random names, saying things like, “give me one soft kick if you dun like this name, two kicks if you realllly love it!” and if there was a quiet moment, he’ll say “it’s okay maybe baby glubs is just sleeping.” So he’ll just hum to you and your belly a Lemurian lullaby so you can all drift off into a peaceful slumber.

One of his favorite things to do is preparing a relaxing bath for you. He fills the tub with warm water and adds calming scents, making sure they’re not overpowering, and a few bubbles to help you unwind and soothe any aches or tensions. As he gently washes your body, his hand gently glides over your growing belly, washing away the soap as he imagines the three of you one day swimming together in the ocean as a family.

Sylus:

Every time you wake up or whenever he walks through the door after a long day, he greets you with the sweetest affection. First, a gentle kiss on your forehead, then a soft on your lips, accompanied by a “Hello sweetie,” His eyes then soften as he looks down, his hands gently caressing your baby bump, “and hello our little dove.”

You can always expect pampering from Sylus. He’s right by your side with endless shoulder, back and leg rubs. He can’t imagine how uncomfortable it must feel growing a little one inside of you and how much it takes out, so he’s determined to ease any discomfort in every way possible. He’s learned how pregnancy can change your sense, so he’s careful to use any lotions or oils with certain scents, avoiding anything that could make you feel nauseous or unsettled.

Whenever you have trouble sleeping, he’s there to gently prop up some pillows to make sure you’re as comfortable as possible. He’ll go through his vinyl collection, picking out your favorite or ones that will help you unwind and relax.

He loves you deeply and he knows you’re capable of being independent but he does not want you lifting a finger once your baby bump starts to grow. Even in your early stages of pregnancy, he gently encourages you to take it easy, reminding you that you don’t need to push yourself. With the doctor’s advice to rest often, he’s got all the reasons he needs to insist that you relax. Not a single in the house will be washed by your hands and no clothing will be folded by you. He wants you to relax as much as possible and focus on yourself and your little one.

It’s not hard to wake up Sylus. In fact, he’s already awake before you slip out of his arms to satisfy your late night cravings. Quietly, he trails behind you, wrapping his arms around you. His large hands rest on your tummy as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your head, his warm chest gently against your back. He already memorizes your cravings at this point unless it was something new, so he guides you to the chair by the kitchen counter. “What are you hungry for, sweetie?”

In your early stages of pregnancy, shopping for your baby was fun and something you both enjoyed planning together. But by the time you reached your third trimester, the long walks were beginning to wear you out. So he suggested online shopping together. He didn’t want you to feel left out and he loved seeing your face light up when you found something adorable for the baby, even if it was another plushie to add to the collection. The two of you would settle in on the bed or the couch, face masks on , hair tied back, happily chatting and laughing about the cutest finds and everything the baby needed.

Every doctor’s appointment, he’s right by your side. He’ll hold your hand the entire time, his thumb gently rubbing soothing circles. He knows how nerve-wracking these visits can be, especially the anticipation of any results. But just having him there by your side brings your comfort and reminds you that you're never facing it alone.

In general and throughout your pregnancy, he’s always been someone you can lean on. With all the emotions and changes in your body, he’s there to listen and offer comfort. He becomes your safe space where you can express yourself openly with no hesitation.

He can’t deny that he secretly loves being called a to-be- dad’ by Luke and Kieran. There’s a smile that never seems to leave his face, knowing that he will be the father of your child and to experience a new form of love together as a family.

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ghostgirl101 · 11 months ago

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Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

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smileysuh · 5 months ago

Text

fuck your ex

🌙 starring. Choi Seungcheol & Kim Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

tw/cw. Protected sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, fingering, hand job, dry humping, grinding, foreplay, threesome, bathroom sex, using a shower head as a vibrator, multiple sex scenes, multiple reader orgasms, slight cum kink, Cheol cum’s on reader’s chest, size kink, dirty talk, praise, etc… I pet names: (hers) baby.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 7.3k

🍭 aus. Non idol au, cop au, poly au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I know cops are a touchy subject, but I've had this idea for months, and I figured it's fan fiction so hopefully it's just a fun au :)

Prologue

You’re so busy blasting nostalgic break-up music that you’re not paying attention to how fast you’re driving down the speedway. The loud Kelly Clarkson song drowns out your sorrows, but it doesn’t drown out the sound of the siren when a Police car lights up behind you.

“Fuck!” you scream, immediately turning down your stereo and pulling over onto the shoulder of the road.

Your heart is racing in your chest- being pulled over isn’t something you’re used to, and you fumble to roll your window down while two cops exit their vehicle and approach.

You wipe at your eyes, which are tearing up again, and you reach for your purse to pull out your license.

The man standing next to your window leans down to look at you, and you try to flash him a smile. His expression is cold, blank even. “Do you know how fast you were going?” he asks.

Now, your heart sinks. It’s such a direct question, and for some reason it makes you snap. You can feel tears begin to roll down your cheeks, your skin heating in embarrassment at having been caught doing something wrong.

“Officer- I’m so sorry, I don’t know how fast I was going- I just broke up with my stupid ex-boyfriend, and I was listening to some breakup music to distract myself from how I’m feeling, and I wasn’t paying attention-”

The second cop pulls up to your window, and the two of them exchange a glance while you cry and blab your reasoning behind doing something wrong.

“Are you headed home?” the second officer, whose nametag reads ‘KIM’, asks.

“Yeah, I just went to get a bottle of wine, and now I’m going home to drink and watch movies and cry myself to sleep,” you admit, voice shaky.

“Have you had anything to drink tonight?”

“No, sir.”

The first officer, ‘CHOI’, sighs, and you see him scan the surrounding freeway. “We’re going to let you off with a warning,” he says finally. “It’s late, there’s hardly anyone driving right now- you were doing the wrong thing by speeding, but it sounds like your day is already pretty shit as it is.”

“Really?” You blink up at him, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “No ticket?”

“No ticket,” Choi confirms. “But don’t get caught doing this sort of thing again.”

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good luck with your wine and your movies,” Kim nods, and with that, the two officers go back to their vehicle.

You wait patiently, watching them in your rear-view mirror as they pull out and drive past you. Only then do you release a deep breath.

One

“Oops!” You let out a squeak as you turn from the bartop and nearly run straight into someone. Your drink sloshes over the edge of your glass, coating your fingers in fruity liquid.

“My bad,” the tall man immediately apologizes, steadying you with a hand on your hip.

Your eyes meet, and your heart leaps into your throat. It’s not common to see men who are this attractive out and at bars-

“Wait, have we met before?” he asks, brows furrowing in confusion.

“I’d remember if we had,” you retort quickly.

The man cocks his head to the side, and after a moment of studying you, his face lights up. “Wait, I remember! You’re that chick we caught speeding two or three months back! The one who’d just had a breakup!”

Your eyes widen as the memory washes over you. As you look up at this tall man, you realize he’s right. You hadn’t recognized him at first, without his officer hat and uniform he looks much more boyish.

“I’m Mingyu,” the large man says, holding out a hand. Without a second thought, you shake it, which is when you remember your skin is still sticky from your spilled drink.

“Shit, sorry-” you apologize.

Mingyu only laughs. “You’re still a bit of a hot mess, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately,” you agree with a sigh.

“Are you here with people?” he asks next, looking around.

“Waiting on some friends.”

“Want to come join me and Cheol for a bit while you wait?”

“I really couldn’t-” you try to side step the question, but Mingyu insists, and soon, you find yourself seated at a table with the two sexy cops who had let you off with a warning three months ago.

“This is the chick who was speeding, the Kelly Clarkson break-up one,” Mingyu introduces you to his buddy, and you watch recognition blossom over his face.

“Y/N,” you correct, swallowing thickly. “My name is Y/N.”

“Seungcheol,” the stoic cop says, introducing himself. “How’ve you been?”

“Better than that night,” you admit, feeling a little off that they’re so interested in you.

“You’d be surprised how often we pull over girls for speeding after rough breakups,” Mingyu tells you, easing your anxiety a bit. “It must have been a pretty shitty split to have been driving the way you were.”

“It was bad,” you admit with a frown. “In fact… I still don’t think I’m fully over it.”

You’re not sure what’s come over you, what’s bewitched you to the point where you’re divulging your personal secrets to two strangers, and cops no less-

“Fuck your ex,” Seungcheol grunts, taking a sip of his beer.

Mingyu nods. “Fuck your ex.”

You swallow thickly, lifting your drink. “Fuck my ex.”

You wish your voice sounded more confident, but Mingyu flashes you a smile regardless, clinking his beer to your cocktail.

Your shoulders relax a little as you sip on your drink, and Mingyu begins asking you very surface-level questions. It’s clear he’s doing his best to make you feel welcome while you wait for your friends, who arrive after about fifteen minutes of chat.

“Well, my girls are here,” you announce.

“Shame, we were enjoying your company,” Seungcheol muses, and his words make your skin heat. He’s quiet, or at least, not as much of a talker as Mingyu is-

“Hey listen,” Mingyu distracts you, pulling out a pen and paper, where he begins to scribble a few numbers, “you know what they say, the best cure to get over someone is to get under someone else. If you ever need one of us, or both, shoot us a text or something.”

You’re in complete shock as he hands you the slip of paper, wherein two phone numbers and names are written.

“Are you…” you swallow thickly, looking between the men, “is this kind of behavior allowed from cops?”

Mingyu flashes you a wink. “We’re off duty.”

Two

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admit, opening the door to your apartment, allowing Mingyu inside.

He only chuckles, pulling you into a hug. You let out a breath, relaxing against his chest. Once you feel a little more settled he releases you, pinching your cheek gently, in a shockingly affectionate way. “You’re getting over your ex,” Mingyu says softly. “Everyone needs to take that step sometime, I’m just glad you reached out to me instead of some tinder dick head.”

“Yeah, cuz a cop is so much better than some online random,” you roll your eyes.

“I’m definitely better than some online random,” he agrees.

“This isn’t very cop like of you,” you point out, watching Mingyu remove his jacket.

“I’m not just my profession,” Mingyu says smoothly. “I’m a hot blooded male, and you’re a cute girl who needs some rescuing.”

You cock a brow, amused. “Rescuing?”

“Uh huh.”

“And you’re going to rescue me with what? Your cock?” You’re giggling already, and Mingyu joins in.

“Cuddles don’t hurt either,” Mingyu muses, pulling you to his chest. “If we get to your bedroom and you decide you just want someone to be with, I’m not going to pressure you. I know I said the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, but, skin to skin contact - even if it’s not sexual - can be an amazing way to get over an ex too.”

You can’t help yourself, you lean forward, going on your tiptoes to press your lips to Mingyu’s. He kisses you back immediately, cupping your cheek with one large hand. It’s a gentle kiss, the kind of kiss that tells you you’re safe, and you realize how right Mingyu is- maybe you just needed a companion, someone to distract you from how lonely single nights can be.

Even so, the two of you make your way to your bedroom, and you find yourself shockingly shy as you invite Mingyu into your bed.

You’re in comfy clothes, but Mingyu isn’t, and he toys with the hem of his shirt as you get under your covers. “Should I take this off?” he asks.

“Whatever you want,” you agree, watching him carefully.

“I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explains.

“It won’t,” you tell him, in fact, you’re curious as to what he looks like under his shirt.

A minute later, you’re rewarded by getting a full view of Mingyu’s beautiful body. He’s all muscle, but it’s not the kind of muscle you gain just in a gym. No, Mingyu has a work hardened physique, what some might identify as practical muscle, and it’s clear he doesn’t skimp on food either. He’s perfectly built, you decide, as he gets into bed next to you, immediately pulling you to his broad chest.

You release a deep breath, one you didn’t know you’d been holding.

A large hand strokes along your back, and Mingyu gives you space to just be quiet and enjoy his presence.

Finally, though, you get to the point where you can’t contain yourself any longer. You look up at him, and Mingyu mirrors the motion. It’s like he can already read you, and you wonder if that’s due to him having a lot of experience with girls, or psychological cue reading as a cop. Either way, he leans down to kiss you, and you melt into it, letting out a pleased groan.

Mingyu returns the sound with one of his own, his tongue gliding across your lip. You open up for him, shifting so you’re half on his chest while the kiss deepens. Mingyu’s hands find your waist, and he pulls you fully on top of him, your knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips.

It’s been so long since you kissed someone, but your body easily picks up the natural instinct again. Mingyu is just so sexy- in no time at all, you’re wriggling on top of him, eager for stimulus against your already aching core.

You find yourself completely relaxed, but completely on edge at the same time. It’s an odd contrast. Mingyu makes you feel comfortable, without fear, and yet- he also sets you on fire in the best of ways. Each touch is like electric shivers across your body, and you can’t help the way you’re moaning from just a bit of kissing and dry humping.

“Wait,” Mingyu’s voice makes you stop, and you pull away, looking down at him with confusion. “I think- before we fuck or anything, I think you should let me eat you out. I bet you’re tired of toys and fingers, and I want tonight to be about making you feel good.”

He’s literally prince charming. Like- how did you ever find this sexy giver.

You swallow thickly. “We can do that.”

Mingyu kisses you again, and then he rolls on top of you, pinning you to the bed. You love the way his hands skim across your body, teasing across your waist and ribcage.

“Can I take your clothes off?” he asks.

“Maybe… uh… maybe just my pants for now?” You’re not sure why you want to leave your shirt on, but that’s the boundary you’re comfortable with right now, and Mingyu doesn’t question it. He presses another kiss to your lips before sliding down you form, hooking his fingers in your sweatpants to drag them down your body.

The large man adjusts between your legs, peppering your newly exposed skin in soft kisses.

Your core is throbbing in your panties, and you bite your lip when his breath fans across your pussy.

“These off next?” he asks, looking up at you.

“Yeah.” The word comes out a whisper, your body tight with suspense.

Mingyu pulls your panties down slowly, and the cool air of the room on your exposed core makes you twitch.

Large hands smooth up your calves and thighs, and Mingyu’s eyes meet yours as he closes the distance to your pussy. You hold your breath, waiting-

The first lick of your clit makes your toes curl, and you moan deeply, earning a smile from the man who’s clearly intent on devouring you.

“I kind of like being told what to do,” Mingyu explains, kissing your inner thigh. “So if you have anything you want me to do, just say something.”

“I will,” you promise, shifting your hips to get your core closer to his face again.

Mingyu takes the motion as a direction in and of itself, and he immediately puts his mouth back on you, but this time, it’s not a kitten lick. There’s no hesitation now, it’s clear you want this, and Mingyu dives in, pressing his tongue into your core.

You groan, thighs already shaking at how good it feels.

Your hands reach down, tangling in his soft hair, and Mingyu releases a moan of his own. The vibration from it goes straight to your clit, and you whimper.

“You’re good at this,” you tell him, doing your best to be verbal, as it’s pretty clear Mingyu’s a verbal sex kind of guy.

He rewards your words by sucking his lips around your clit, flicking at it with his tongue.

“Can you…” you shift slightly, “your fingers-”

Mingyu adjusts, focusing on your clit with his mouth while a finger strokes between your pussy lips. He eases it into your wet core slowly, being gentle with you while ravaging your sensitive bud.

Your eyes close at the feeling, your head thrown back against your pillows. “That’s good-” you tell him, groaning when he slips a second digit into your pussy.

You can feel him smile against your clit, working his fingers up toward your gspot with each calculated thrust.

You’re supposed to be using Mingyu to get over your ex, but you can’t help the way you compare them- how had you ever thought sex with your ex was good? He’d never eaten you out like this- never prioritized your pleasure- fuck, you haven’t even had sex with Mingyu yet, and you’re already convinced it’s going to be mind blowing.

Releasing a breath, you focus on Mingyu, focus on the feeling building deep in your core.

One thrust has Mingyu’s fingers hitting the exact right spot, and you let out a squeal of delight. “Right there- fuck- right there!”

Mingyu does as he’s told, repeatedly hitting the spot that draws you closer to your orgasm with record speed. His mouth on your clit is also pure pleasure, and before you even know it, you’re releasing a groan. “I’m gonna cum, fuck- don’t stop, please-”

Your words break off as your high slams into you, moans of ecstasy escaping as your body surges with pleasure. Your pussy is pulsing deliciously around Mingyu’s fingers and he works you through your orgasm like an absolute champ. He’s unrelenting, fully focused on drawing out your pleasure until you’re practically shaking.

Mingyu pulls away, and you let out a shaky gasp, opening your eyes to look down at the gorgeous man. His expression is one of pure lust, and you watch him wipe his mouth with the back of his palm.

“You taste like peaches, baby,” he tells you, straightening onto his knees at the foot of your bed.

You don’t say anything, you only motion for Mingyu to come closer, and you grab the back of his neck, drawing his lips to yours so you can taste yourself on his tongue.

He moans into the kiss, and you writhe beneath him, hooking your leg over his hip.

Mingyu begins to grind down against you, and you can feel how hard he is in his jeans. You love that eating you out had that kind of effect on him, and you find yourself reaching down to cup his cock.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, breaking the kiss to breathe heavily, pressing his forehead against yours. “Are we going to do this? You can still back out-”

“We’re doing this,” you confirm.

“Okay, give me a sec.” Mingyu pulls away from you and you whimper at the loss. “Wanna take your shirt off now, while I take off my pants?”

“Yeah,” you agree, immediately working on the remainder of your clothing.

You’re naked in seconds, and you watch Mingyu step out of his jeans next to the bed. He’s produced a condom from his pants, and you watch with bated breath while he rolls it onto one of the biggest cocks you’ve ever seen in person- in fact, it might be the biggest cock, and your core throbs at the mere thought of it.

“I’m on birth control, and I’m clean,” you find yourself saying softly, toying with the fact of unprotected sex.

“Me too,” Mingyu breathes. “But, it’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

Leave it to the cop to be safe, you guess that’s a good thing, but part of you sinks at the idea of not being filled with his cum.

Mingyu gets on top of you again, kissing you deeply.

Your legs wrap tight around his body, and with pressure, you prompt him to grind down against your core again.

The feeling of his cock gliding between your soaked pussy lips is amazing- and you do your best to ignore the sensation of the condom.

He kisses you for a long time, until you’re aching for him from the grinding, and finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Please,” you whimper, looking up at him. “I need you.”

“Anything you want, baby,” he says, pressing his lips to yours again while he adjusts ever so slightly, pushing his hand between your bodies so he can grab the base of his cock and line it up with your core.

He starts by rubbing it between your pussy lips, lubricating himself before pushing just the tip inside of you.

You moan against his mouth, shocked at the stretch. It’s clear from Mingyu’s gentle, controlled motions, that he’s used to giving grace for his size, and he slowly works you open more and more, sinking inch after inch of himself into your core.

His kisses are a wonderful distraction, and you focus on relaxing, allowing your body to open up for the large cock.

When his front is flush to your own, his cock completely buried inside of you, you both release groans of pleasure.

The kiss breaks, and you pant against each others lips, opening your eyes to look at each other.

“You good?” he asks.

“Good,” you nod. “You can move.”

Mingyu lets out a shaky breath, and after a moment, he begins to fuck you.

Each thrust is euphoria, his cock dragging against your inner walls deliciously. Mingyu begins to kiss you again, and you grab at his strong shoulders, clutching him desperately while he fucks you into your mattress.

“You’re so tight,” Mingyu groans, lips moving to your neck. He licks at your sweet spot, and you shiver, wrapping your legs around him even tighter.

“You’re just so big-” you counter.

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits with a chuckle.

You don’t mind that you’re in missionary, don’t mind that he fucks you stupid this way- it’s a very intimate position, and once again, the thought of your ex pops back into your mind.

You realize, as the two of you get closer and closer to your highs, that maybe you weren’t ready for this- you don’t regret it, but you’re clearly not over your ex in the way you’d wished you would be at this point.

Maybe Mingyu’s just too soft, too gentle, too domestic-

It’s not his fault, he’s being sweet to you, but maybe sweet isn’t what you needed, not really. It just makes you miss being in a relationship.

The two of you cum together, and you hate that you’re still distracted. You wish you could give all your focus to Mingyu, after all, it’s clear he’s completely zoned in on you, but it is what it is.

If nothing else, he’d distracted you for a little, given you perhaps the best dick and pussy eating of your life- and as the two of you cuddle up to fall asleep, it’s a small blessing at least that you’re not sleeping alone.

Three

You’re at a bar waiting for your takeout when you run into the most unlikely person.

Seungcheol is dressed in work out clothes, a loose shirt, sweatpants, and a baseball cap, but he still looks downright lickable. His strong shoulders- the handsome face only partially hidden by his cap- he’s so recougnizable, and it’s clear he knows who you are too, because he walks over.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” you retort, playing with the straw of your cocktail. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t expect to see you either,” he admits with a laugh, and you’re delighted at how his smile lights up his face. “You waiting on food?”

“Yeah, just a dinner order, figured I’d get one drink while waiting.”

He nods. “I’m waiting for food too. Just came from the gym, didn’t feel like cooking.”

“I get that,” you agree, looking down at your drink.

“You eating alone tonight?” he asks. “We could always just ask the kitchen to switch our orders, you know, get a table, eat here.”

“Are you asking me to have dinner with you?” you grin.

“If you’re up for that sort of thing,” he shrugs.

“You know what?” You let out a sigh. “Let’s do it.”

Seungcheol grins, and after talking with the bartender, you find him leading you over to a booth, having sorted everything out.

He’s got a beer now, and you’re enthralled with the way he looks while taking a sip.

He’s just so masculine- you’re extremely attracted to Seungcheol. He’d been kind of scary while dressed in work attire, but this gym outfit is much more your style.

“So,” he starts, releasing a breath. “Heard you saw Mingyu last week.”

Your skin heats with embarrassment. “Oh, yeah.”

“Don’t be shy,” Seungcheol grins, reaching across the table to nudge your hand. “I don’t judge. He’s my best friend, and we talk, so of course he mentioned it.”

“And now… you’re having dinner with me,” you point out.

Seungcheol shrugs. “Mingyu’s not the jealous type.”

“Are you?”

Seungcheol leans back against the booth, cocking his head to the side. He grins, and it’s one of the sexiest expressions you’ve ever seen. “I can be,” he admits. “It depends on the situation.”

You swallow thickly, reaching for your drink, in need of some sort of reprieve for the way your throat has gotten dry. “Do you and Mingyu do this a lot?” you find yourself asking.

“Do what a lot?”

“Go after the same girl?” you clarify.

Seungcheol takes a moment, and you can tell he’s deep in thought about how to approach this line of questioning. “It’s happened once before,” he admits. “Definitely not a regular thing.”

“Tell me about last time,” you suggest, interested in the story now.

“Not much to say,” Seungcheol shrugs. “He and I have been friends forever. In university there was this one girl, she wanted us both so we figured it would be interesting.”

“Was it? Interesting?”

Seungcheol flashes you a dark look, the kind of look that says ‘are you serious?’

“It was fun,” he says finally. “But, the conditions have to be perfect for sharing to work.”

You’re about to ask for more details, but your waitress comes over with your food, so you put your questions on the back burner.

Seungcheol had ordered a salad with four extra chicken breasts, and you stare at him in shock for a while.

“What?” he asks, taking a bite.

“I’ve just never seen someone order greens and four orders of chicken,” you admit.

“It’s good for you,” Seungcheol insists. “Protein.”

You look down at your rice bowl, letting out a sigh.

“Bet you’re wishing you’d got what I got,” Seungcheol teases.

“Never,” you laugh.

“Anyways, I bet you’re wondering about the conditions that make threesomes work,” Seungcheol sighs, returning to the topic at hand.

“I’ll admit, I’m curious. When you and Mingyu gave me your numbers, you did say I could have both of you if I wanted.”

“You still can, but I wouldn’t be shocked if you wanted to stick it with Mingyu. It wouldn’t offend me. He’s better with girls than I am.” You love how direct Seungcheol is about this, and it shows a good sense of self for him to be able to admit he’s not as much of a lady killer as his friend.

“Why do you think he’s better with girls?” you inquire.

“Most girls like that whole puppy dog thing. He’s a giver, and I respect that.”

“And you’re not a giver?” you toy, cocking a brow.

“More of a taker really,” Seungcheol admits, flashing you a grin. “If you’re interested in that sort of thing.”

“Honestly?” You let out a sigh, relaxing back against the booth. “That might be just what I need right now.”

Four

Seungcheol’s mouth is hot on yours before you’re even inside your apartment. He’s all teeth and tongue and grabby, greedy hands. But there’s something so exciting about him as he pushes your front door closed with his foot, wrapping you up in his strong arms and lifting you off the floor, prompting your legs around his hips.

There’s no talking, no assuring you that you don’t have to fuck-

You know you’re both here to fuck each other’s brains out, and it makes things simple as he carries you to your room.

To your surprise, however, he doesn’t take you to your bed. “Where’s your shower?” he asks, breaking the kiss to look around.

“Through there,” you point to the door to your ensuite, and Seungcheol follows your directions. Once in the bathroom, he sets you on the sink, and you flash him a questioning look.

“I showered at the gym, but still,” Seungcheol says, tearing his shirt off from the back of the neck. “I feel like shower sex is a good way to go about this.”

“I don’t usually like shower sex,” you point out.

“Well, you will with me, baby, trust me on that.” Seungcheol slips out of his sweatpants and briefs, his cock rising to attention. “Come here,” he instructs, pulling you off the sink.

His lips are feverish on your own, and he undresses you as quickly as he’d undressed himself. His hands grope your breasts, and he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth while you thread your fingers through his hair.

“Now turn the shower on,” he commands.

You step toward the shower, following through- and you feel Seungcheol’s hulking, built body behind your own. His chest presses to your back, and his hands begin to explore your form while the water heats.

You tilt your head to give him access to your throat while one hand massages your breast, and the other slips down to your core, teasing through your pussy lips.

“Wet already,” he muses with a grin. “Mingyu said you’re a sensitive one.”

A tingle of sinful delight rushes through you.

You wonder how many details Mingyu shared- you wonder if Seungcheol’s been eager to get a taste of you for himself.

The water begins to steam, and with a nudge, Seungcheol prompts you inside. He joins you quickly, pinning you to the wall while his lips devour your own.

He breaks the kiss a short time later, looking up at your detachable shower head, then a grin spreads across his face. “Guess I can be a giver today, but don’t tell anyone,” he teases, taking the shower head off.

You’re not even shocked when he brings it between your thighs, wet pressure surging up against your clit while you squeal in shock.

Seungcheol bends down, capturing your nipple between his lips again.

“Fuck, this feels good-” you groan, gasping and grinding down against the shower head.

“I’ll let you cum first, because when it’s my turn, it’s my turn,” he warns.

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, enjoying the way his mouth returns to your breasts.

He’s so rough, but it feels so good as the pressure from the shower continues on your clit. The dual feeling of his lips around your nipple, and the pressure on your sensitive bud has you getting close to the edge shockingly fast.

Seungcheol - like Mingyu - seems able to read you, and he adjusts, bringing a hand between your thighs. Two fingers slip into your wet core, and he focuses on applying the water to your clit while he begins to finger fuck you.

“Fuck,” you groan, clawing at the wall, trying to stay standing while he works you closer and closer-

“Want to see you cum,” he says. “Want to see you come undone on this fucking shower head and my fingers before I take what’s mine.”

Your stomach flip flops at the possessive tone, your breath coming out in a shocked gasp.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you, baby?” Seungcheol asks. “Tonight, you’re mine. Don’t want you thinking about Mingyu, or that stupid fucking ex of yours. It’s just you and me, and if I see you drifting, I’ll bring you right back here, with me, got it?”

“Yeah,” you nod, swallowing thickly.

“Such a good girl for me, grinding against my hand-” he groans. “I can see how close you are.” He leans forward, his lips ghosting past your ear. “I’ll admit though, I’m not a very patient man.”

Your skin tingles at his words, and you find yourself reaching for his cock, using the water as lubrication as you begin to stroke him off.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol says, voice low. “I be good to you, you be good to me, that’s the way this should be, don’t you think?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, closing your eyes as your abdominal muscles tense, warning you of your oncoming orgasm.

“Squeezing me so good, come on, baby, cum on my fingers.”

Seungcheol’s hand works even harder, digits stroking your sweet spot- and that’s all you need to be thrown over the edge.

You let out a strangled gasp, your orgasm slamming into you.

“That’s it,” Seungcheol groans, pressing his forehead against yours while he works you through your high. “Keep cumming for me, baby.”

You couldn’t stop even if you wanted to- your entire body is Seungcheol’s to control, and he prolongs your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.

You can hardly stand, but that doesn’t matter, Seungcheol puts the shower head back and simply picks you up. “I don’t have a condom on me,” he explains, sinking you onto his cock and releasing a hissing sound of pleasure, “so I’m just going to have to pull out and paint your chest.”

“Whatever you want,” you tell him, drawing his lips to your own as he begins to fuck you against the wall of your shower.

His fingers dig into your thighs, and he uses you to his own pleasure, fucking you like a mad man. He’s so strong- and you feel like some weightless doll in his grip. His lips are hot against your own, and his moans are some of the sexiest sounds you’ve ever heard.

There aren’t any thoughts in your head as he uses you in an animalistic, almost primal way, and you love every second of it, your sensitive pussy clenching tight around his aching cock.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol groans. “You’re pussy’s too good, gonna cum.” He pulls out of you abruptly, and you sink to your knees on your shower floor, looking up at him. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you, wrapping his hand around his cock and beginning to roughly stroke it. “Push those pretty tits up for me.”

You do as you’re told, watching Seungcheol- the way his bicep and abdominal muscles flex with each strained stroke of his rock hard cock.

He’s a fucking vision, and you don’t mind him using the sight of you to his own end- in fact, when he releases a strangled groan, throwing his head back as his hot seed shoots out across your tits, you kind of realize you love this.

His large thighs flex, his entire muscular body alive as his orgasm washes over him.

He works himself through it, and finally stops, hand falling to his side while the other reaches out to press to the wall. He looks down at you, offering you that sexy smile. “Good girl.”

Five

You’d given it a week of thought, and now here you are, looking at both Mingyu and Seungcheol as they stand in your kitchen.

“Are you sure you want this?” Mingyu asks, ever the softie of the two.

“She wants this,” Seungcheol confirms, looking you up and down. “She’s probably wanted this since the moment you said she could have us both.”

“It’s a big step,” Mingyu points out.

“It’s the ultimate distraction,” Seungcheol counters.

You let out a sigh, opening your robe to reveal the lingerie underneath. “Let’s do this.”

Seungcheol moves first, stepping forward and grabbing you by the back of the neck, drawing your lips to his. You kiss him desperately, cognizant of Mingyu watching. It feels amazing to have the attention of two gorgeous men, and you feel downright elated as Seungcheol lifts you off the ground and begins to carry you to your room.

You watch Mingyu over Seungcheol’s shoulder, and he follows closely.

“How do you want to do this?” the taller one asks as you make it to your bed, where Seungcheol tosses you down.

“No condoms,” you respond.

Both men laugh, exchanging glances. “Baby wants to be full, huh?” Seungcheol asks.

“So full,” you agree.

“I think we can deal with that,” Mingyu grins. “Any other requests?”

You swallow thickly. “Whatever you want.”

Mingyu and Seungcheol look at each other again, and the taller one shrugs. “I’ll go first,” Seungcheol decides.

“Sounds good to me,” Mingyu agrees.

The two nod at each other, and then they both begin to strip. They get down to their boxers quickly, and Seungcheol joins you on the bed first, making you face him on your knees as he captures your lips with his own. His hands are everywhere, massaging and groping-

A second set of hands joins the first as the bed dips, signaling Mingyu’s arrival behind you. His soft lips find your throat, and you moan at the sensation of two sets of mouths on you.

Their touch is everywhere now, but it’s clearly Seungcheol who pulls your panties down, rubbing your wet pussy while Mingyu works on your bra.

“So wet for us,” Seungcheol groans. “She’s been wanting this for ages, Gyu- haven’t you, baby?”

“For too long,” you agree with a whimper, looking up at him.

Now it’s Mingyu’s turn to moan a sound of appreciation, and he pushes your bra off your body, hands immediately cupping your breasts. His fingers pinch at your nipples and you moan desperately, pushing your ass back against him-

Fuck, Mingyu’s already hard, his cock straining against your butt-

Seungcheol captures your attention again, kissing you as his fingers push into your core, crooking up to hit your sweet spot.

You’re so wet- with each stroke, you can hear your juices on Seungcheol’s fingers, and it sets your entire body on fire.

It feels like nothing else you’ve ever experienced to be captured between these two gorgeous men- there are absolutely zero thoughts in your head, you’re so overtaken by this wordless need-

“Fuck this,” Seungcheol says. “I’m not huge on foreplay, need to fuck you.”

Mingyu snickers behind you, it’s clear which of the two men is better at patience, and you suppose that’s why the taller of the two men gets to go second. You can’t imagine making Seungcheol wait his turn, but that’s part of what’s so endearing about him.

“Here’s how it’s going to go,” Seungcheol sighs. “I’ll fuck you doggy, Mingyu can be under you, and as soon as I’m done, he can get his turn, sounds good?”

“Sounds perfect,” you admit.

Seungcheol leans close, his lips ghosting over your own when he says, “Then be a good girl and get into position for me.”

All three of you stip the last bit of clothing from your bodies, and you’re quick to get on top of Mingyu. He immediately kisses you, cupping your cheek as you grind down against his cock- you’re trying to be patient for Seungcheol, but patience, it would seem, is a strong suit that neither of you have.

“If you put his cock inside of you, I’m going to prep your ass,” Seungcheol warns, and you pause your writhing on top of Mingyu. “That’s what I thought.”

Two hands roughly grip your hips, and Seungcheol pulls you up, off of Mingyu. A cock glides between your pussy lips, and Seungcheol smooths his palm along your back. “Be good for us,” he warns before slipping into your wet core.

You let out a moan, resting your head against Mingyu’s chest while he strokes you, holding you close. He nuzzles at the crown of your head, a gentle contrast to the man who begins fucking into you.

You’re kind of obsessed with the duality- the dichotomy of the two men is enough to keep you satisfied and on edge, enraptured with the act of making love in this way.

It’s clear already that you’re kind of in love with threesomes- there’s just something about this, or maybe- there’s just something about Mingyu and Seungcheol.

Seungcheol’s hands are rough on your hips, pulling you back to every thrust, and you finally relax enough to be able to kiss Mingyu again. His lips are desperate against your own, and his cock presses up between your bodies- you can’t help but grab at it, stroking him off in time with Seungcheol’s thrusts.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, rutting up to meet you.

“You’re being too nice on him,” Seungcheol muses, and you can hear his smile.

Neither you nor Mingyu respond, too busy kissing to care.

It’s clear, after a few seconds, that Seungcheol doesn’t enjoy being ignored, because one of his hands snakes around your body, fingers finding your clit.

“Shit-” you whimper, breaking your kiss as pleasure surges through you.

“Knew that would get your attention,” Seungcheol says smugly, rubbing you even harder.

“You gonna cum for us?” Mingyu asks, lips attaching to your neck, one hand groping your breast while you continue to stroke him off.

“Yeah, I’m close-” you gasp, pussy tensing, clenching tight around Seungcheol, who groans deeply at the feeling.

You feel so perfectly taken care of, two men working your body closer and closer to the edge until your orgasm takes over. You release a strangled whimper, body surging with white hot energy that pulses through you like an electric shock.

Seungcheol lets out his own sound of pleasure, and his thrusts falter ever so slightly- then he goes as hard as he’s ever gone before. Each rut is skin on skin as his hips hit your ass, and you can tell from his rough panting that he’s just about to tip over the edge too-

He cums with a deep groan, and the sound makes your pussy flutter even harder as ropes of cum coat your insides, filling you perfectly.

You’re fucked practically stupid, reduced to animal instinct as you stay captured between two large bodies. All you can do is stay on shaking thighs, crouched over Mingyu, as Seungcheol finishes up and pulls out of you with a “Fuck.”

“My turn?” Mingyu asks, stroking your cheek to get your attention.

“Yeah, fuck- fill me up even more,” you whimper.

“You got it, baby,” Mingyu grins, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before he reaches between your bodies, grabbing his cock to line it up with your pussy. He helps you down onto him, and you moan.

You’re still tight from your orgasm, but it’s substantially easier to take Mingyu after having just enjoyed Seungcheol’s girth- and the cum inside of you helps with the lubrication. You’re fully seated on Mingyu’s cock not a moment later, and you both moan from the sensation.

His lips attack your own, and you thread your fingers through his hair as he begins to thrust up into you.

You’re too weak to ride him, but from the way Mingyu bucks with the energy of a stallion, you doubt he cares.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans against your mouth. “You feel so good, baby.”

“You feel good too,” you tell him, words shaky as they escape you.

“She’s cock drunk already,” Seungcheol muses, and you hear him heading to the bathroom to clean up while Mingyu has his way with you.

“Are you cock drunk, baby?” Mingyu asks, pausing to look up at you with lust filled eyes.

“So good,” you whimper.

Mingyu grins. “Definitely cock drunk.” He cups your cheek, drawing your lips back to his own. He rolls you over so you’re now on your back, and then he sits up onto his knees. “Can you get onto your side for me, gonna push your leg up to your chest and fuck you like that.”

You do as you’re told, shifting into the position. Mingyu grabs your thigh, anchoring himself as he begins to rail into you. He has more maneuverability in this position than when you’d been on top, and he hits as deep as anyone has ever hit before, making you whimper and claw at the sheets.

“You look so good like this,” Mingyu tells you. “Being so good for us.”

“Mingyu-” you whimper.

“I know, I’m close too,” he promises.

Each thrust is hitting a spot that has your toes curling, and you’re quickly working your way to another high, pussy still sensitive from Seungcheol.

“Fuck,” Mingyu groans, digging his fingers into your thigh as he holds you open for himself. “Can’t cum till you do- fuck, wanna feel you squeezing my cock-”

“Gonna fill me up,” you whimper.

“Gonna fill you to the fucking brim, baby,” Mingyu agrees.

You close your eyes, so overwhelmed by pleasure-

“Let me fill you, come on, cum with me baby,” Mingyu urges, and that’s all it takes for you to explode on his cock.

He releases a grunt, fingers gripping you tight as he falls over the edge with you, fucking you roughly through your dual highs. You love how you can just relax as pleasure like you’ve never felt before surges through you- both men take care of you in their own ways, and this is what heaven must feel like.

But all good things must come to an end, and slowly, Mingyu’s motions begin to falter. He collapses half on top of you, breathing heavily as his lips eagerly seek yours out.

“Well aren’t you two cute,” Seungcheol’s voice makes you both laugh, pulling away from each other.

“Is that jealousy in your tone, Seungcheol?” you tease.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Jealousy doesn’t work if you’re planning to do threesomes with the same three people more than once.”

“Oh, are we doing this again?” you ask.

Seungcheol grins. “Baby, what do you think?”

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🔮 preview. “Bet you’re happy with yourself,” Seungcheol muses, bringing his hot mouth to your throat. “Making him cum untouched like that.”

cw/ tw. Unprotected sex, threesome, fingering, pussy eating, breast worship, dirty talk, praise, slight cum kink, slight exhibitionistic foreplay, inklings of roleplay, groping, size kink, cumming early and in his pants, etc… I petnames. (hers) baby.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.5k I teaser wc. 150

🌙 starring. Seungcheol & Mingyu x afab!reader

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You’re standing at the bartop waiting for your drink when hands grab at your hips. You’re pulled back to a broad chest, and lips press to your throat, prompting you to tilt your head and grin. “Cheol,” you breathe, “what are you doing?”

“Keeping track of my prisoner,” he muses, grabbing at the orange jumper you’re wearing. “Can’t let my dirty little prison escapee out of my sight.”

It had been his idea to dress as cops and a prisoner for Halloween- and you think there must be some sort of rule against Seungcheol and Mingyu wearing their actual uniforms as costumes on a night like this- but fuck, they look so good in their navy blue.

You know you look good too, the orange jumper isn’t revealing per se, but it’s tight in the right places, and Seungcheol is feral for you regardless of what you’re wearing… or not wearing.

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pedgito · 2 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐁𝐔𝐒 | General Acacius x reader x Emperor Geta

summary | living under emperor geta's rule was never supposed to be easy, but he aims to make it nearly impossible, even if he has become fond of you.

author's note | i never really intended for this to get another part, but since seeing the movie and wanting to expand on these characters and possibly writing for geta on his own, i thought i would turn this into a little passion project. i know there's a niche group of you that have asked for a second part to this, and as much as i crave chaos, i hope you enjoy where i took this and know that i am all for the crazed man that is emperor geta. (can be read as a standalone, but the first part can be read here)

content warning | 18+ mdni, DDDNE - heavy dubcon (due to sex work, ect), heavy themes of abuse under the rule of a vile emperor (mention of injury, slapping, ect), normalized degredation, exhibitionism and exchange of bodily fluids, smut galore (oral, unprotected piv, ect), choking tw, death tw, use of opium poppy, drugging tw (not against reader), named side character, marcus acacius being the real knight in shining armor. this is unbeta'd so i apologize for any spelling mishaps.

word count — 8k

You live within him, it feels.

Geta never let you stray farther than a touch, within arms distance.

You were no longer yourself, rather an extension of him.

He prefers you naked. But, he often dresses you up in gowns; modest sometimes, occasionally leaning toward more revealing fabric—sheer lace, high slits, deep-cut necklines that accentuate your breasts and hips, the soft but tight curve of your ass. Sometimes you wondered if he liked the clothes more accessible to his wandering hands, his fingers fluttering under your gown during public meetings, even.

The men never said a word, they wouldn’t dare.

If you were given the opportunity to be away from him, it was always under the watchful gaze of his guards, and only to complete tasks he has ordered to you—fetching food when he was too lazy to leave his bed and when you were feigning the grimace in your face, itching to wander.

Your relationship is complicated in the beginning but easier to manage as you become accustomed to his personality and outbursts, learning what makes him tick. He’s easier to manipulate with sex, something you have no issue taking full advantage of.

And he fancies an audience, usually. Other servants, less privileged women that trembled in his presence, fearful that his next move would be their last, somehow comforted by your confident and guiding touch. It made no sense to not enjoy what you could while you were imprisoned here, even if Geta and his brother did nothing to soothe the discomfort they left in their wake, making your skin crawl as his fingers drifted along your skin.

Caracalla could not touch either, his brother forbade it. An eager boy, riddled with a brain-eating sickness, he was dutiful to his brother but harmful in his own ways, fickle with thoughtful choices and often making important decisions on impulse.

They were destroying Rome, that much you knew to be true.

Geta’s hand guided up your stomach, his palm curling around your breasts as he squeezed, your own hand flat against his chest as you rode him with fervor in the early morning hours, dawn peeking over the warm, lilac sky.

In this light, he seemed almost normal. Eyes drifting shut in the silence of his quarters, just you—just him, he often made the mistake of weakening his defenses like this. He growled, low and quiet as his hands traded your breasts for your hips, spinning you in an instant and pinning you beneath him, soon his hand like a vice grip on your neck as he thrusts into you with little care or regard, a string of spit connecting his parted lips as he laughed, an eerie cackle as he came inside of you, admiring the tremble in your lip as he released his grip on your throat, subtly intaking the breath you had been deprived of as he pulls away from you, falling against the mattress and pulling the silk bed sheet over himself.

You move to do the same, but he grips the sheet.

“Make yourself come,” He demands, a sneer across his face as he yanks the sheet away completely.

It was routine, now. You part your thighs without hesitation, leaning back on your elbow to allow him an unobstructed view, a tired but amused expression on his face as you play with your clit, fingers sliding through your folds, eyes drifting shut as they often did.

It was easier to picture him this way, brown curls buried between your thighs and the tanned-skin of his backside as he stretched out below you, rutting his cock into the sheets as he ate you like his final meal, eyes like warm honey as they peered up at you.

Acacius, sweet Acacius.

You were thankful you could remember his face, a memory you would pray to the gods to stick with you forever, a blissful crest of pleasure as your middle finger circles over your clit in a hurried manner, heels digging into the sheets as you feel it—fuck, it’s there, right there—

“Look at me,” He leers, his hand twisting into your hair at the crown of your head, a searing pain that makes you gasp, but your eyes fly open, mouth parted in a mix of pain and pleasure, “tell me how generous of an emperor I am to be so kind to a little whore like you.”

You nod shakily, swallowing as your mouth dries, “You have given me everything, your highness. Everything. I may never be able to repay you such a debt,” It was a script, one you’ve memorized and dare not forget, “May I—” You’ve learned to ramp up the dramatics when he’s lips part in anticipation, fingers itching as his thigh as they curled, his dick twitching beneath the fabric, “may I come?”

So fucking full of himself.

Whether you did or not didn’t matter anymore, but he allowed it. Insists. Your eyes never leave him.

–

Even as you dress, again, he hovers.

You’ve learned the proper customs and rules, always making sure you look perfect. Pristine. Scrubbing your body down so harsh and deep that it makes your skin feel raw, because if Geta noticed anything—anything at all, it would mean punishment.

He liked lashings, but that was too exertive for him.

His handmaidens aided the swelling and cuts as well as they could, ice and creams, clever ways to cover the wounds to your face. You were starting to feel a numbness when the anger would rise and explode, only praying that he would remove his rings before doing so.

“He’s visiting,” Geta speaks as though it was a secret, squeezing your chin between his fingers before they predictably fall to your neck, squeezing in the perfect spot to make you feel light, airy, and not in a good way, “I best not get a whiff of contempt, understood?”

“I am yours, Geta,” You knew he liked the more relaxed approach, his grip easing up, “he is nothing, nothing compares to you.”

His nostrils flare, a half-hearted smirk crossing his face as he shrugs.

“I have a task for you,” Geta teases, before his finger trails toward your nose, thumb rubbing against the soft, bulbous curve and down your lips, pushing his fingertip inside, prying your lips apart, thumb tucking against the inside of your cheek as you mouth falls open, “but, not in this moment. The timing must be…perfect.”

Your eyes squint slightly—he was up to no good, that much you could decipher.

–

He gave the other servants a look, shooing them away as you stayed on his heels, your dress flowing at your ankles, feet bare against the marble floor. He pulled faintly at your wrist as he took a seat, maneuvering you into his lap, his own legs outstretched, fingers traveling up the center of your chest before his hands curving around the back of your head, his thumb rubbing at your jawline.

“Try anything, I will kill him first. Then you.”

You smile, syrupy sweet, playing with a thin strand of his fiery locks underneath the lip of his crown.

“You worry so much, Emperor,” Your own hand covers his, a bold touch as you stare him down, “It does not suit you.”

He’s emotionless for a moment too long, fearing you may have finally overstepped, before he breaks out into a laugh, one final squeeze before he relinquishes his hold.

The General and his entourage arrive soon after your conversation, Caracalla having joined shortly before the approach of many guests—most thanking their Emperors for no apparent reason other than because they enjoyed watching people kneel before them, confessing their undying loyalty.

It was pathetic, but what you were doing—forced or not, was no better. It was much like being stripped bare, the way the others' eyes prowled, watchful of Geta’s wandering touch.

“Quite the whore you’ve acquired,” One embolden man comments, his slimy smirk coming moments later, before calling over his shoulder, “General Acacius, you must tell me where you acquire such…toys. Such a generous gift you gave.”

You smiled with faked confidence, sat in his lap, one leg draped over his own, the other dragging along the floor where it rested through his split thighs, a kneading hand dragging along your inner thigh. Your fingers drag along his own, his tongue shoving into his bottom lip and over his teeth, a tick you’ve learned meant no good, his eyes turning quickly to rage.

You could hear the deep timber of the general over your shoulder as he is called forward, your eyes never leaving Geta, even as he straightens in his throne, his palm flattening against the arm of the chair digging into your back. You slide a hand inside his robe, fingertips dragging along his collarbone, “He knows I am yours now, Geta.”

“General Acacius,” Geta greets with a poorly faked kindness, one that Acacius returns with a curt nod and the usual bow that one of higher ranking would offer, the traditions were different for townspeople, but it was still ridiculous in any manner, “I take you have good news to share.”

Otherwise, he would not be here.

“Austria will be conquered within the next fortnight, Emperor Geta,” He explains with a rigidness that oozed discomfort, ignoring the smarmy look of another nearby general, one of much lower important, but nonetheless—

“Ah, it must feel strange,” The man suddenly interjects, a finger circling the steel goblet in his hand, filled to the brim with wine, “trading whores, doing business—rather messy…”

Geta’s jaw tenses, his anger suddenly directed elsewhere.

But, as usual, Acacius knows how to defuse a tense situation.

“She was a gift to the Emperor,” The general clarifies, “for what he does with her is none of my business, I only knew her as a loyal servant,” not a whore, never had those words left his mouth.

Geta’s chest rumbles softly, his hand squeezing painfully tight at your thigh.

Your teeth clench to silence the pain, dreading his next words as they leave his mouth.

“Call her what she is, Acacius,” He goaded, “a whore—and she excels.”

His other hand slides through the open back of your dress, slipping one fold of fabric down your shoulder as he grins, all of the lower society bystanders having filtered out of the palace by now, leaving a large group of generals waiting for Geta's official dismissal.

“Give them a show,” He boasts, shoving you off of him rather abruptly, but you quickly plant your bare feet into the flooring, steadying yourself as you kneel before the Emperor, spreading out the spare fabric of your dress to act as a temporary comfort to your knees as you work at Geta’s robe, hesitant as you peer up at him briefly, he nods slightly, but taunting, “go on.”

It wasn’t the first time you’ve performed for an audience, feeling eerily normal now—but in a room full of generals? Acacius? You could hear your heart pounding in your ears, deafening everything else around you as you split his robe apart and dragged your fingers up the inside of his thigh, his tongue peeling slightly through his lips as you wrapped your delicate fingers around his cock, watching as he hardened under your skilled touch, despite how incredibly awkward the air felt, some of the men murmuring around you quietly.

His fingers dig into your hair at the start of your scalp, unhappy with your pace as he grips, pulling you forward until you get the idea, your tongue licking slowly along the head of his cock, the reddened tip glistening with a small drop of precome. You circle around it, slow and tantalizing before you run down the length of his shaft, having memorized every ridge and vein by this point that it has become second nature to instinctively know what pulls him toward the edge faster, easier. But, he wasn’t even looking at you. He was staring through you, behind you.

He was staring Acacius down, guiding you down his cock without much relief as your eyes flutter shut when his cock head nears the back of your throat, using practiced breathing as you focus. He didn’t like it when you gagged, eventually allowing you up for air as you claw gently at his thigh, but the process is repeated over and over again until you’re tearing up, drool collecting down your neck and chest, hand still secured tightly at the root of your hair as he pulls you off suddenly, demanding a tense, “Open, tongue out,” as he comes in short, but forceful spurts against your tongue, swallowing the heady taste of him without another thought.

He pats at your cheek lightly when you open your mouth, showing it empty.

“Stand,” He ordered, adjusting your dress back up slightly to cover your breast, chuckling underneath his breath at how disheveled you looked otherwise, hair an absolute mess and your chest slick with spit, “oh—why don’t you give him a kiss? As a thank you for his generosity.”

Geta covers himself lazily, uncaring as if a dozen or so men hadn’t just watched him come down your throat. You turn on your heels, approaching Acacius who was simmering with rage, it was subtle, but you could sense it as you came closer.

You smile softly, a silent apology as you touch him first, fingers curling around the side of his neck as you press your lips against his in a chaste kiss, knowing Geta would allow nothing more. And it doesn’t surprise you how easy it feels to fall back into his touch, the polite press of Acacius hand at your hip catching you by surprise, feeling the faint adjustment of fabric, invisible to the naked eye, but you feel it.

Geta doesn’t appreciate Acacius reciprocity, cutting the moment short.

But, Geta is more relaxed that night after Acacius departure than he’s ever been.

He’d won.

At least, he thought so.

–

“An entire limb seems harsh,” Geta thinks, twisting the rings on his finger as you dry from the bath he had ordered you take before lying in bed with him, always wanting you perfect and clean, “maybe a few fingers would suffice as punishment.”

You keep your silence, letting him think aloud as you squeezed the water from your hair with the cloth, but eventually Geta’s hand wanders, pulling at the cloth covering your body, forcing it to drop to the ground, “What do you think?”

Your eyebrows raise in faint shock, that he was legitimately addressing you about a concern, a choice he would happily make himself—so, why? Why was he asking?

Whatever, you’ll bite.

“What did they do?”

“The general—from the other day, who had such choice words for your dear Acacius—”

“Geta, I have told you—”

“Do not interrupt me,” He seethes, pulling at your wrist, forcing you to be done with your hair and climb over him in bed, “He assaulted a maid of ours—or Caracalla’s specifically, we had caught him up in his room, trespassing, touching things that did not belong to him—”

People, he means. But, he would never be so generous.

“And, you think a few fingers? An arm? That taking away a limb would keep him from doing it again?” You clarify, rolling to your stomach as you crawl toward him, your face level with his own as you rest your head into your open palm.

“Unless, say, you suggest something different.”

“Kill him,” You offer lightly, “If you think one less appendage would teach him a lesson, your highness, I hate to speak out of term, but—”

Geta considers the thought, head tilting to the side before he slowly opens his mouth to speak, “No…I do understand. But, he is a general. It would be something to discuss with a council.”

Your fingers slide across his chest, fingertips rubbing against the small patch of auburn hair at the center of his sternum, slowly crawling up his neck, idle movement that you didn’t think about at all anymore.

“You are an emperor. The people of Rome listen to you,” He and his brother were burning it to the ground, but that wasn’t something you could stop alone, “you are powerful—and, forgive me, but watching you command a room,” It amazes you sometimes how easily it was to play into his weaknesses, a smile spreading across his face as you boosted his ego, “—it does things to a woman.”

His hand, like a magnet, attaches to your thigh to spread you out on top of him, straddling his groin, your bare pussy pressed tight against the cloth of his robe, your hands pressing into his naked chest.

“You are smart,” Geta notices, “educated—a keen eye unlike I have seen on someone of your social status, I do not know much about you.”

“You have never asked,” You reply honestly, “though, it does not matter. I am here for one reason, to serve you.” His grip shifts your waist slightly, aiding the slow, but gentle rock of your hips against his hardening cock and if you closed your eyes long enough, you could enjoy it.

“Yet, you may be of more use to me than I suspected,” Geta teases, his hands rising to massage at your breasts, casually nodding to the maid who had peeked her head inside after a quiet knock, nodding as he answered, “—yes, bring them in.”

A line of varying women filter into the room with somber faces.

And just like that, the moment was lost.

–

Geta was such a heavy sleeper, fortunately. Gently prying yourself away as he rolls onto his side, mumbling something unintelligible in his sleep as you quietly step toward the the attached room where you bathed, pulling at a loose tile in the floor where you had stowed away what Acacius had slipped into the fold of your dress, withholding for the right moment to peek.

It was a tiny scroll, rolled up with a thin string and no bigger than your thumb, your nails pulling at the slab until it pops free, quietly unfurling the curled up paper as you read what was carved onto the thin paper, an overuse of ink smudged in spots.

It listed a place, a monument he knew you’d remember and a promise that he would visit every night after the sun set for a small window in time, hoping to catch you.

He was still trying to reach you, to provide himself as a comfort in such a time.

You had to plan accordingly, find someone you trusted enough, and convince Geta of your undying loyalty—though, it seemed that you were breaking him down.

And luckily, you did have a maid you trusted, to a degree—a young woman of similar age, meek but unsuspecting, she often sensed your displeasement and unease, didn’t fit in like the rest of the women that bowed so loyal to the emperors. But, she was a gossip, a troublemaker like Caracalla who she served loyally. She tended to him more regularly, often dealing with his breakdowns and tantrums caused by Geta or, lately, anything. There was never a way to know when he would blow a fuse and cause more bloodshed, he was unruly.

There was only one hour of the day when you see her—morning proceedings, food served to their royal highness, the two brothers chatting amongst themselves as everyone moved fluidly around them. Caracalla had requested fresh squeezed juice, a rather tedious task, but you sneak away with her as the opportunity arose, digging through the oranges without prying eyes.

“I must ask you a favor,” You begin in a hushed tone, rubbing your thumb over the skin of the orange, “and I will owe you immensely.”

She looks at you curious, but expectant.

“The stuff…that helps Caracalla sleep,” You hint at out of habit, paranoia getting the best of you, “I would…I require it, for Geta. He sleeps heavily, but I need…to be sure.”

“He is insatiable as of late, that act in front of the generals—”

“Irene, I am at my end, please—do you have any remaining?”

It was opium poppy, it had many forms but the one you knew most of was powder. Easy to slip into a drink, often undetectable. It was worth a shot, even if it meant your life.

“At dusk, by dinner. Is that enough time?” She answers easily, a sigh of relief breathing past your lips as you nod, cradling a few oranges in the crook of your elbow.

You had only prayed Acacius hadn’t given up hope, that he might still be lingering in the shadows in wait, hoping for a glimpse of you again.

As promised Irene delivers, dousing both of the boys inconspicuously as you kept watch, tainting their wine with the sleeping drug, watch as his eyes began to tire before you as you slipped a grape between his teeth, a sated and happy smile on his face.

You hate it, but he almost looks normal. Like he wasn’t slaughtering people for entertainment and ruling like a madman—he was still young, just beyond his teenage years and into adulthood, like yourself. You wonder where things went wrong and why, that someone could be filled with such unrestrained rage and hate.

Caracalla beckons for Irene eventually, Dundus hopping from her shoulder to his as she trails alongside him to his quarters, suddenly feeling the nudging of a sharp nose into your neck, a faint sniff and a hum as Geta appreciates the flowery smell, a faint lavender on your skin.

“I need you,” He speaks against your skin, nearly sliding your dress down then, your hands grabbing at him quickly and his reaction is delayed, almost confused, “did you not hear me?”

“Let us retire to your bed,” You suggest, dragging your thumb along his bottom lip, watching as his wine-stained tongue licks at the digit, “and you will have all night to ravish me as you please.”

Thankfully, it doesn’t take much convincing. Though, he’s less coordinated than you’re anticipating, draping himself over you lazily as he kneads at your breasts, cupping your cunt over the fabric of your dress, the silk halfway down your body as you step beyond the threshold and Geta is on you without a moment to breath, peeling his clothes of layer by layer before he’s bare before you, a surprising gentleness to his movements.

He takes a seat on the side of his bed, at the edge as he pulls you into his lap, hands spread out against your spine, fingers digging into the skin and begging to make it ache, hurt, but he doesn’t have the strength, his kisses become increasingly more lazy as the opium takes hold.

Eventually, his eyes flutter as you pull back, your lips barely brushing against his as he fights the exhaustion, but eventually succumbs, falling slack on the bed as you climb off of him, leaving him sprawled out in his bare state to your valiant amusement, given the amount of times he’s taken to shame you rather than show sympathy, it seemed fair.

Sneaking out of the palace is easier than you expect, having spent endless weeks being mindful, watchful of even the smallest of things. Paths, open windows, learning the schedules of staff and guards, it was almost too easy as your feet fell against the broken pavement, the quiet footfalls following in your quick departure, praying to whatever deity above that General Acacius believed in you enough that you would fight to see him.

–

When you show, it is quiet. Dark, not a soul in sight, tugging the cloak hastily over your shoulders, sending a chill up your spine against the bare skin underneath, a small inkling of doubt seeping into your thoughts as you stare around aimlessly, wondering if you were too late.

Your frame slumps against a nearby pillar, secluded in the shadows, the cold night biting at your feet, the faint sound of hooves off in the distance, realizing just how noisy the streets could be outside of the palace—it was comforting, in a way.

“You came,” The words come from your left, behind you as your head whips over your shoulder and he’s touching you before you have time to take him in, a gentle but firm press against your clothed arms, holding you still, “you are here, dove.”

It was a tone of disbelief, like he had lost hope.

He wouldn’t tell you that he almost didn’t come tonight. It didn’t matter, because you were here.

The visceral reaction you have at his endearing name for you is like a vice grip on your heart, mouth opening to speak but words falling short.

Eventually, the tears fell.

“I am sorry, General,” You speak with a shaky timber, “I am—that act, his performance the other day—“

The general soothes your worry, dragging his thumb along your cheekbone to catch a stray tear, “That has no meaning to me, if anything, it was his mistake for allowing us so close. Otherwise, you would not be here with me now.”

You peer at him through tear-soaked lashes, feeling as if you would be snatched away at any moment, your fingers curling into his similar clothing, a cloak covering what you could assume to be a more relaxed attire, a toga that he would often where around his home, strolling barefoot through his atrium.

“Why am I here, Acacius?”

“You must trust me,” He urges, “that when the time is right, I will come for you.”

“We could go now,” You plead, “he would never know, he does not care enough to go after me, I swear—“

“Little dove, he cares for you much more than you know,” The general counters, “you are valuable to him.”

“He asked something of me the other night,” You speak absently, rubbing a fingertip along the frayed thread of his cloak at your eye line, “what a fitting punishment I thought would be of a man who assaulted a servant—I believe he was testing me.”

Acacius furrows his brow, “You loyalty, it seems. You are getting under his skin, I see it. He knows of your value to me and that as much as he tries, you will not be tamed. But, he is trying.”

You chew at your bottom lip quietly, a nervous tick that Acacius picked up on long ago, both of his thumbs pulling your lip away from further mutilation.

“Little one, what is on your mind?”

“I have to go back soon,” You say with an obvious bitterness to your tone, “though, I do not wish to.”

His large hand curls around the side of your face, cradling your head as you lean into the touch, warmth spreading like fire over your skin, “You will be with me again.”

He barely registers as your lips touch his, a blink and you were there, lips pressed so tightly against his own that they might bruise, leaning into him like he was the only thing keeping you upright, pulling at the fabric of his toga as his hand wanders beyond your cloak, in search of a touch.

“Dove,” He breathes at the realization of skin, “you are bare, your clothes—“

“I rushed,” You stare at him impishly, “I did not think, I know, but,” the general smiles, cheeks dimpling with the show of emotion as he shakes his head.

“You have me wanting what I cannot have,” He sounds somber, his hand still lingering against your hip, “I know he does not cherish you the way he should.”

You laugh softly, your stomach fluttering at his wandering hand, drifting along your public bone before the full expanse of his hand was cupping your cunt, welcomed by warmth and the sticky wet sensation of arousal that he’s been longing for, like an addict.

“General, would you like to know something?”

“What is it?” He inquires to your obvious amusement, his and cradling your head back, neck exposed slightly, thankful that the streets around you were empty.

“He likes to watch me pleasure myself,” You admit, “mostly because he cannot achieve the feat himself, but as I close my eyes I picture those mornings when you snuck under the sheets and spread my legs open,” Acacius leans forward greedily, hot breath fanning over your face as he yearns for another kiss, moving away from him tauntingly as you finish your speech, “that sweet look on your face as you taste me, thankful that you expertise was not contained to only battle—“

“Careful,” He warns, “I am not against a reminder if you continue.”

You peer over the broken set of stairs behind him, attached to an abandoned structure, eyebrows raising expectantly, “A parting gift, General?”

—

The discomfort was nothing compared to a general kneeling into the dirt and stone without a hesitation to please you, a whore, a servant—your title no longer mattered, having carried so many.

He’s still hooded, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he kneeled against the steps, forcing you down flat against the concrete as he licked a slow line through the seam of your cunt, again, again. A teasing trace over your clit as he pressed two thick fingers inside of you, lapping at you loudly.

“Did he bed you tonight?” Acacius inquires curiously.

“Nearly,” You sigh, a high-pitched breathy noise as his pace quickens, knowing that you both were on a time limit, “he—huh—was far too tuckered to be fulfilled.”

His brows raise subtly at your choice of words.

“I drugged him,” You admit, an unexpected moan ripping from your throat as his tongue flicks over you sensitive clit, fingers digging into his cloak-covered shoulder, “seems the Emperor is not as untouchable as he thinks, and tricked by a whore—he would have a fit.”

His fingers dip into your thighs as you squeeze them together around his head, his tongue working quickly over your clit until you’re breathless and whining, feeling the rushing wave of your climax as it crashes into you, Acacius licking up the mess like a starved man.

It takes you a few moments to come back to earth, feeling a gentle tug at your hand as Acacius helps you up, readjusting your cloak over your naked body without much of a word, knowing your time with him was up.

“Wait for the bells,” He tells you, “light, delicate—look for me, I will be near.”

You begin to speak, but are silenced with a kiss.

A final goodbye.

“Remember what I told you?”

Live.

You nod.

“At whatever cost, little dove.”

—

You go to great lengths to make it back to the palace before dawn, hiding behind every pillar, sneaking around corners, somehow managing to slip back into Geta’s bed without so much as a sound, his body still mostly laid out as you had left him, aside from a little rousing around.

When morning breaks, Geta wakes with an obvious grogginess to his tone, forcing his eyes to stay open.

“You stuffed me full of wine,” Geta jokes, “I cannot remember anything from our night prior.”

You’d tried to look particularly exhausted, hair slightly disheveled and the satin bed sheet askew, “It was quite a night, your highness. Such a shame,” You reply mockingly, though there’s a sweetness to your tone, almost teasing.

And if Geta suspects anything, he doesn’t say it.

It takes a day, two, silently mulling over the events.

He wasn’t a half-wit like his brother, his brain like mush beyond repair, useless by result of the infection in his loins. He was helpless, spiraling deeper into madness.

Geta had his wits about him—his eyes drag along your body, the deep swooping fabric showing off your exposed back, the soft skin and gentle slope of your spine, a look shared between you and Caracalla’s most trusted maiden.

Along with the lightness in your tone, a revered outlook, a bounce in your step that most people wouldn’t catch, but Geta—he’s just as much an observer as yourself.

He suspects, no—senses, feels, the deceit in your challenging gazes, the additional touches with an air of confidence, too cocky for someone who has been nothing more than a whore and housemaiden.

He’d always known you were particularly special; smart by means of General Acacius, knowing how to read and write and many other things that others of your station did not have the luxury to learn. And you were hard to break, though Geta had worked at it for weeks, he’d gotten you there.

Obedient, compliant, merciful.

At least, he’d thought so.

He knows he won’t get a word out of you.

So, he goes for Irene.

The guards corral you at dinner, sitting silently with Caracalla as Dundus perched on his shoulder, eating quietly. They aren’t kind either, grabbing hard at your bicep as they drag you from your spot on the floor, Geta’s throne eerily empty.

Your stomach turns at the slow realization as you’re dragged down the hall, tossed beyond the threshold of Geta’s room as you stumble to the floor, groaning at the impact, head hitting the ground first as you roll over in pain, opening your eyes to an even more horrific sight.

Geta, hovered over Irene, lifeless eyes staring back as he dropped the thick cord from his hands, something he must have ripped from the curtain as one drooped down from its normal placeholder.

There was no blood, no mess, but the light in her eyes was gone, and Geta stumbled over, crawling—hunching down to intersect your bleary eyesight as you slowly came to the realization of what was happening.

“You have betrayed me,” He announces calmly, despite the eyes of a crazed man staring straight through you, face void of any emotion, “after all I have given you.”

“Geta—“ You plead, pushing up on your palms to sit up, his foot coming in contact with your shoulder as you roll into your back forcefully.

“I AM YOUR EMPEROR,” He seethes, spitting as the words left his mouth, “YOU—BETRAYED—ME!”

And left a mess in the process, unfortunately.

“If you would…let me explain,” He stalks closer, watching as you rise slowly before his hand is striking across your face, the sting almost immediate, “I—think…that you—“

“You do not think,” He spats through clenched teeth, shaking with rage as he kneels to your level again, like a rabid dog, “whores do not think, they are fucked until there’s nothing left and then they are tossed out. Like trash.”

In desperation, the words slip out.

“I love you,” You say softly—it was a careful bundle of words that you’ve never spoken before, not even to General Acacius, “whatever she has told you, it is lies.”

His silence isn’t an answer, but you took the opportunity, unsure if he was stunned or gearing to explode.

Convince him, at whatever cost.

“She knows—of my past with the general. She was jealous of me, you. She drugs your brother, you must know. And she tried it with you too, it is why I did not leave your side, why I insisted we come back to your room.”

“But, you knew—“

You reach for him, a hand circling his wrist.

“No, no,” You speak softly, “It was small things. Your speech, it was slurring. You were drifting away, almost as if you were floating. I could see it. I have seen it before, with your brother. The nights when he is unruly, she…calms him.”

“Her story is entirely different,” He challenges, “you see my issue, yes?”

“Geta,” You challenge him, reaching forward to cradle his face, surprised by his willingness to allow it, watching you carefully, “I am loyal to you—no one else. I do not know another way to show you, but I will. I will, you must—“

“Strip,” He orders, “—on the bed,”

It makes your stomach twist, but you follow his orders.

His demeanor is unreadable as he watches, mirroring your movements before he’s climbing over you in bed.

He settles on his calves between your open legs, a blanket of silence falling over as he reaches for your hand, a surprisingly gentle touch as he brings your fingertips to his cock, slowly hardening at the sight of you.

Your fingers circle his shaft as you lean up on your elbows, ignoring his intense eye contact as you drag your palm along the velvety soft skin, feeling him grow to a stiff hardness within a few minutes—it should disgust you.

It does, to a degree. It wasn’t that Geta was unattractive in a physical sense, but the mental picture was hard for you to overlook. But, for the moment, you could pretend like he wasn’t the worst human being to walk the earth.

His fingertips brush against your cunt slightly, fortunately your body has adjusted to the pleasure of such a complicated predicament. You’re sure if you tried hard enough, you could truly enjoy it. But, you’re thankful that your body connects with the severity of the situation, quivering slightly at his touch, mouth opening in a small gasp.

“Are you nervous?” Geta inquires.

You shake your head, “No—it is only, we have never…”

“Let us try something new, hm?” He offers with a grin and you nod instinctively, feeling two thick digits dip inside of you with no warning, not so much grace as Acacius would have, but it isn’t uncomfortable.

It seems Geta has his wits about him, fortunately, diminishing you to nothing but a whimpering mess after a while, some of it a little bolstered for his benefit, but the pleasure was real.

And god, did you crave that release.

Soon, his hand is gripping his shaft, sliding between the folds of your pussy as he coats himself, mouth twitching at the sight as he speaks, “I want you to watch.”

And you do, his cock pressing into you slowly, “It is such a generous act, you see, feeding you my cock like this,” another slow push, “you should feel special, little dove.”

The words are jarring, but you try not to react.

“It is not everyday you are fucked by an emperor,” The dichotomy to his words almost makes you chuckle, as if he wasn’t fucking you every day, sometimes even two or three times, “you should be thankful.”

“I am.” You quickly appease.

“Then thank me,” His voice was tense again, his neck flexing with the tightness to his words.

“T—thank you, Emperor Geta.”

“For?”

One last forceful push and he’s seated fully inside of you, your brow pulling together at the pressure, lips parting open, “For your cock, for making me feel so—oh,” His thrusts are careful, calculated, your head falling back at the divine angle he’s found, “for—oh, gods—so good.”

You fist the sheets in desperation, back arching up slightly, watching his jaw tense at the way your breasts bounce, his eyes darkening over time, only a shell of himself as he thrusts into you, two firms hands on your hips slowly making their way upwards, wondering if he was following the path toward your breasts before they are bypassing and going straight for your neck, his hands encircling your throat.

It is merely a second too late before your brain catches up, too overloaded by pleasure that you don’t see the definite switch, quickly going from gentle pressure to the type of force that makes your vision white out.

You choke, gasping for air as you try to speak his name, plead, anything—his eyes are locked on your face, a sick determination as your stronger, forceful blows to his chest quick become weaker, weaker, feeling yourself teetering on that edge before he’s releasing his hold, forcing you to gasp for air.

“Do you still love me?” Geta asks.

And despite yourself, you lie.

“Yes, I love you, Geta.”

He was a sad boy, you’ve come to realize, wanting love but also craving unyielding power. He did not want equals, he wanted subordinates, fans, people that would sacrifice everything in his name. But, underneath it all, Geta was just as broken as you suspected.

—

A parade of the gladiators wasn’t a normal occasion, but it was quite the event—a way of wealthy men showing off their new toys, dangerous murderous machines out for blood.

It was the entertainment before the big show, sitting in the expansive throne room underneath the colosseum as the rich drowned in wine and food, you and several other servants surrounding the two brothers, eagerly awaiting your next order.

At least, for you, it was being obedient.

It felt like a collar around your neck, his fingers tracing along the back of your spine and up, fingertips resting against your shoulder, his thumb rubbing against the column of your throat.

Geta spots him from a mile away, that trademark white against gold, gaudy armor fit so perfectly for a man like Acacius, you bow your head at Geta’s push, the footsteps approaching steadily.

Your throat ached still, eyes slightly bloodshot. He hid your face, the evidence, speaking to the line of approaching generals as they greeted the two men with high regard.

“I commend you, your highness,” A general speaks, faceless but you sneer at his tone, fists balling into the fabric of your dress, “she is so well behaved, you must teach me your tricks.”

You bite down at the inside of your lip as Geta pets your head, tilting your head to the side slightly as you close your eyes, his thumb pressing against your cheekbone.

“There is no trick,” He retorts, “my little dove is loyal, a hard thing to find in a world full of deceit.”

It was laughable, coming from the emperor.

The moniker is an even lower blow, knowing that General Acacius was a few feet away, the white fabric of his traditional armor dragging along the ground.

“Ah, Acacius,” Geta boasts, “I hope you have come to bring me good news.”

It best only be good news.

As he approaches, Geta’s grip tightens, curling around the side of your neck as a show of dominance as his finger digs into your skin, daring you to defy him.

The soreness is pertinent, causing you to grimace in pain at his actions, something that Acacius spots but does not acknowledge.

“Yes, our army is nearly ready, Emperor Geta,” He nods before acknowledging his brother, “Emperor Caracalla,” but Geta is not amiss to the way his eyes drag toward you for a brief moment.

“Careful,” He warns, “doves are…so sacred, yes?”

Your sideways gaze peeks through as his eyes bore into Acacius, the subtle glimpse of broken capillaries and a plea for help as you lock eyes with Acacius is all he needs.

It would be tonight—it had to be tonight.

—

He’s a horrid mess, drunk off his ass as he drags you back toward the room. His brother and he were always more rowdy after gladiator games, riding the high of an entertaining act of violence, slaughter for mere amusement. Geta nearly topples over you as he opens the door, pointing hastily toward the bed with a slurred speech, “Naked, on the bed.”

He’s heading for more alcohol, a table tucked away in the corner of the room with a plethora of choices, pouring lazily as he stumbles, the utensils from an earlier meal falling to the floor as he bumps into it, looking displeased at your state of dress. He grimaces, nose scrunching as he reaches for the knife that had clattered to the floor, twisting it in his hand to point it at you.

“You dare—you dare to defy me?”

Your eyes squint, narrow as he jabs at you sloppily, dodging the action with ease.

“You cannot even see straight, your grace,” You jeer, watching as he gulped down the crimson liquid, remnants trailing down the side of his mouth as he threw the glass away carelessly, the glass shattering against the floor as he charged at you, pressing the tip of the knife under your chin as he backed you into the wall, his eyes capturing the similar essence of rage when you knew there was no saving him, determined to cause bloodshed no matter the consequence.

You can hear the soft lilt of bells in the distance, the sky as black as the darkened state of Geta’s eyes—if he had any humanity in him, it was gone.

“You are…broken,” You speak to him, accepting the consequence, even if Acacius failed to save you, “A poor, poor boy with no one to love him—your confidence, it will be your demise.”

The knife knicks your skin, a subtle sting.

“Are you unaware of Caracalla’s plans?” You inquire, privy to Caracalla’s incoherent babbling, often feeling like Geta’s scapegoat, the constant source of blame. It was true, Geta had never accepted responsibility for anything in his life, “You should be careful, Geta. He has a slippery hand and a temper. If given the opportunity, I am sure he would do away with you. I cannot say I blame him—you are a disgrace of an emperor, ruling Rome like it is a playground—”

His eye twitches, the slight hesitation. It gives you enough time to react, twisting his arm away from your neck and on himself, “Unfortunate that you cannot do that as a dead man,” You bite, pushing against the force of the knife, knowing that Geta had no instinct of survival, a feeble man raised in a glass house for the entirety of his life.

The blood quickly pooled in his mouth, pouring out as his body slumped.

You had prayed it would be slow and painful, that the misery would last.

The rustling near the window pulls your attention, the city quiet and unsuspecting of the violence having just taken place, Acacius' frame obscuring the view of the stars as he climbs through the window.

“Oh, dove,” Acacius sighs, taking in the sight of the slowly dying emperor, his fingers weakly grabbing for you as he choked on his own blood, “you have made a mess.”

“I could not survive him any longer,” You admit, feeling his arm encircling your waist as he tugged you away, “—what—what is to happen now?”

“It is a fate he would have met eventually, if not at the end of my own blade,” Acacius admits, “–—come, we must go. We only have a few moments, my lady.”

Your breath catches at the words, nodding in agreement as you allow him to tug you along, met with a few men on the other side of the wall, catching you as you dropped, draping you in a thick cloak.

“General,” You breathe, sensing his overpowering frame behind you as he grabs the reins of the horse in front of you, assisting you in climbing on the creature, “where are we going?”

“Away,” He promises, “somewhere we can both be free.”

“But, your status—does it mean nothing?”

It never did, not since the minute Geta had stolen you away.

You peer over your shoulder, his eyes soft.

“I love you,” He utters, answering your question without direct confirmation.

And for the first time, you say it as you mean it, feeling the tug at your heart, “I love you, too.”

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