Little Big Noona

I'm a short person

[littlebignoona]

MASTERLIST

KPOP:

The Moon Sisters (SEVENTEEN FF)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

The Altar Between US (ATEEZ FF)

"I found my salvation between your legs,"

CHAPTER 1

Our Beautiful Life (STRAY KIDS ENHYPEN FF)

Chapter 1

HARRY POTTER FF

Only You

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

MY HERO ACADEMIA FF

Mixed Tape: (anti-hero deaf with sound quirk)

𝚈𝚞𝚞𝚔𝚒 𝚄𝚝𝚘: 𝙾𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚂𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢

Chapter 1

[chandora]

mdni 18+ — bangchan being an eater

honestly, screw him for this. you bring him to your family so he can be introduced to them, and this is how he repays you? by forcing you to hush up your sounds of pleasure in your childhood bedroom?

he’s quite pleased with himself. you can feel his growled laughter against your puffy folds, his pupils wide and blown as he occasionally looks up at you. he flattens his tongue, running it from your spasming hole to your clit before he parts from you. chin dribbling and his plush lips curled into a smile. he’s made you come once, and he doesn’t plan on stopping now.

he loves a good personal record.

you can barely breathe, and he’s tormenting you. taking a delight in it. he sat there during dinner as the perfect spectacle of a man, helping your mother, impressing your father. and now he’s got your sweetness on his tongue like ambrosia. you knew that joke he made at the table about innocent “cream pies” for dessert was too good to be true.

he nudges his nose against your thigh, kissing the junction between your mound and leg crease.

“still with me…? silly girl, letting me eat you out in your cute little room you grew up in...”

you’d throw a curse at him if you had the energy, but his words make something churn delightfully in your stomach. a wanton sound bubbles up in your throat and escapes, making you slap your hand over your lips. his hands are snaked up your shirt, kneading at your breasts in his palms. warm and soft. just like the rest of you.

you did homework on this bed. gossiped to friends about who was doing what, the people you had crushes on. and here he is, the man of your dreams giving you a nice night cap involving his drooling tongue to end the perfect day.

he dives back in with good vigor and an obnoxious slurping sound. why does he get to be loud? with his lips closing around your sensitive bundle of nerves, chan’s own eyes close as your thighs squeeze around his head. it makes his head dizzy and his cock twitch against the mattress. he laps soft, gentle kitten licks, mimicking your whining and mewling back to you before laughing with a rolled out tongue.

“shh… don’t wanna wake up your family…”

chan blows cold air against your folds as you twitch, stifling your hiccuped little moans behind your hand. he grins and nudges your clit with his nose. you smell too good, he wants to burrow his face in you forever.

“slutty pussy… dripping all over your sheets…” and because chan can never degrade you without feeling like a monster if there’s no praise—

“so pretty down here… pretty everywhere… you taste so good, i could eat it for hours. will you let me, baby? let channie love on this pretty cunt all night?”

his hands slide up and down the sides of your torso, and you’re not even sure what he’s saying. your head is spinning, on cloud 9. but you nod, staring up at the glow in the dark stars on your childhood bedroom ceiling.

if you look down at him you swear you’ll come again. the sounds are already too much, his grunts and groans with the wet clicking and squelching every time his tongue laves down on your pussy. he’s painfully throbbing in his boxers. you have that affect on him.

“there she is… letting me do whatever i want… you worked so hard to make tonight go smooth… looked so sexy in your pretty outfit… let me treat my girl…”

chan purses his slick covered, thick lips and kisses your clit. a soft suck to it, drawing back. he can feel sinewy strings of your juices and his saliva connecting his lips to you. he repeats the feverish kisses, his hips rocking against the mattress every time your hips buck and you let out a little soft cry. “yeah? mm? like it when channie kisses your soft pussy? oh, look at you, darling… you must feel so good… precious little thing.”

you babble a slew of moans as he gathers saliva in his own mouth and rolls his tongue out, letting it fall onto your slit with his expression of pinched brows and a begging eyes. oh, he knows what he’s doing.

he flattens his tongue, licking a long, pressured stripe up from your perineum to your suck a kiss onto your throbbing clit with a dramatically drawn out moan of his own. chan repeats it a few more times, making sure the round tip of his nose catches under the hood of your cute little button.

your hole is clenching around nothing, hips writhing a bit. he’s got you, don’t worry. he laps at your folds, shaking his head around and moans at the taste of you once more before drawing back. chan rests his head against your thigh and brings a hand up to play with your pussy while he talks to you, finding it amusing how you gasp for air and try to keep quiet.

“so soft… so wet and warm f’me… you love my tongue, don’t you, baby? mmm… fuck yeah… my tongue loves you too, sweetheart.”

chan rubs three fingers in gentle, petting circles around your folds, making sure his middle finger catches on your clit with sticky sounds at every rounding gesture. he could play with you like a fidget toy all day and never get bored. call you in during studio sessions, he’d feel relaxed just from making you feel good. his mouth waters at how aroused he’s made you. chan’s breathless from both devouring you like a starved man and humping the corner of the bed to relieve himself.

but you haven’t come again yet. he’s been edging you on that peak for a while like a heartless man. in chan’s defense, he thinks he can get you to gush more for him. if it isn’t messy, he didn’t do his job. he loves making you feel good, and he’s obsessed with making you come as hard as possible. it’s his best devotion to you.

“you look exhausted… ‘s okay, you’re okay… so fuckin’ gorgeous like this, fuck me… ‘m gonna… ‘m gonna rock you to sleep… fall asleep full of me…”

all you do is nod, a squeak of a whine. your fucked out expression is all he needs to sit up on his haunches and stare down at you. you’re leaking like a broken faucet all over the sheets, staining them a darker patch under your ass. it’ll be easier to slide into you like that. all pliant and soaked and craving him inside of you—

“actually, baby… you wanna try something new? be my good girl…? you’re gonna sit that pretty pussy on my face.”

—

author’s note: thank you for 500 followers, i can’t believe it! i wanted to write something as a treat in between drafting requests ^-^*

[mattbymills]

𝐏𝐎𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 .✦ ݁˖

one-shot. smut. inexperienced!pre-otw!mike x experienced!fem!reader. sub!mike. softdom!reader. praise. loss of virginity. blk!reader in mind. not proof-read .✦ ݁˖ mikey’s tired of being a virgin. masterlist

embarrassed was a poor choice of words.

michael was ashamed.

his brothers have wives, girlfriends, hookups, and michael didn’t even get his first kiss yet. he thought he was pathetic, really. and as much as michael is a shy guy, he’s also desperate for advice. so who else would he go to than to his childhood best friend?

you were quite literally perfection is michael’s eyes. beautiful hair that you always styled differently yet so entirely you, radiating smile, tons of attention from boys, and an insane clothing style to the point michael might or might’ve not tried to have his stylists make him matching outfits.

and god, how could he forget those thighs? plump, soft and squishy. he couldn’t help the way his eyes darted to them everytime you guys went swimming together and you wore that tiny hot pink bikini he loved.

you were probably the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on. which is why you’re the first person he asks for advice, of course.

“i don’t get it, you’re telling me you never even kissed a girl?” you asked gently, tilting your head as you looked up into his big brown eyes, a small chuckle leaving your lips.

“no! like, i know m’not the best looking, but—“ he muttered, before you stopped him by placing a finger to his lips.

“don’t say that.” you whispered, the tension in the air suddenly getting thicker. “m’not boutta sit here and listen to you insult the prettiest face ever.” you added, a gentle smile appearing on your face as your hands cupped his cheeks.

michael giggled and blush, his cheeks getting all rosy as he looked away. “you don’t mean that.” he replied, his voice soft and silky as he looked back at you, still smiling all flustered.

“oh, but i do, angelface. you just have to be the handsomest boy i’ve ever met.” you added, smiling wider and wider as the seconds passed.

you adored michael, truly. some might even say you were in love with him, truthfully. tho, never have you made a move — you always assumed michael wasn’t into relationships, or all the messes that came with it. you thought he was too gentle, too nice, too sweet to be with you — a maneater. you’ve always told yourself that you’re not the kind of girl michael is into, that he probably loves softer, gentler girls that match his personality style, and you couldn’t have been more wrong.

michael loved dominant women. those who knew their worth, who don’t take bullshit, who aren’t scared to put people in their places. the kind of woman that makes his knees weak, and his mind blank. aka you.

“i can’t believe a girl like you would want to hang around someone like me.” he whispered, his doe eyes staring down into yours.

“what are you sayin’, mike?” you mumbled, your voice softer as you kept your hands on his cheeks.

“i-i just..” he muttered before sighing, his eyes fluttering closed for a second, his long lashes hitting his cheeks. “i feel like such a loser. i-i’ve never.. y’know, done anything with a girl — let alone kiss her. am i that ugly?” he added, his eyes fluttering back open, yet still looking down at his thighs like he was ashamed.

“michael, look at me.” you whispered, your voice a bit more firm now, mike’s head lifting up and staring into your eyes with his big sad ones. “m’gonna show you how pretty you are.” you breathed out, which made shivers go down michael’s spine. “tell me if you want to stop, pretty boy.”

“wha— what?” he mumbled, stumbling over his words as you smiled, looking up at him while his cheeks were bright pink, his eyes scanning all over your face.

your lips slowly went over his, a soft gasp escaping michael’s throat into your mouth. his hands hovered over you, his brain already mush just from the feel and taste of your strawberry lipgloss on his lips. “w-wait—!” he suddenly gasped out, his hands going to your shoulders as you leaned back. “w-what are you— um, what are you d-doin’..?” michael asked gently, his breathing already quicker and heavier as he looked down at you, confused.

“m’givin’ you love.” you replied, voice still gentle — compared to your public persona. “s’okay if you don’t want to, michael.” you added, wanting to make him feel at ease as possible.

“y-you.. you don’t have to do this because you’re pitying me.” He mumbled, looking away as he fidgeted with his fingers.

michael’s words made you stare at him in silence, before a soft sigh left your nostrils, your eyes closing before your hands went back to his cheeks. “michael, m’not doin’ this cause i pity you.” you replied, smiling exasperatedly. “i wish you knew for how long i’ve wanted this. wish you could understand how my heart races when you’re around.” you added, which made michael’s breath hitch, his hands already gripping the sheets while his heart raced.

“you don’t have to reply.” you replied, michael staring into your eyes like he couldn’t peel his gaze away. “d’you want me to kiss you again?” you whispered, your breath ghosting over his lips. michael eagerly nodded his head, which made you smile. “words, baby.” the petname made michael’s body go warm, biting his lower lip in nervousness.

“y-yes, please. p-please kiss me.” he fumbled over his words, which made you smile and kiss him again.

you guided him through it. he was kissing you messily, trying his best to imitate your lips moving against his, his hands shakily resting against your waist, remembering all the stuff his brothers told him before. you could feel his trembling hands wander over you clumsily, not really knowing what he’s doing.

your hands gripped his wrists gently, your lips parting from him which made michael leave out a sad little noise. “michael, you don’t have to act like you know everything.” you whispered, your lips going to his jawline, which made him gasp and immediately throw his head back. “jus’ lemme take care of you.” you added, your hands running over his clothed chest as you lips kept moving down his skin onto his throat — sucking gentle hickeys.

michael fought with his own body, biting back on his lower lip until you gently nibbled down on his warm skin. “i wanna hear all the pretty noises you make, please.” you mumbled breathily against his skin, before going back to pressing kisses and gentle sucks on his throat.

it was like your words set something off in michael, a small whine leaving his lips, sending tingles all over your body. you loved seeing him unravel like him.

your lips traced slowly lower, lips moving across his throat and onto his shoulders, his breathing quickening as his hands trembled. “are you okay?” you whispered against his skin, your hands slowly pulling the hem of shirt he was wearing higher.

“m-m’fine, m-m’just— m’just nervous.” he admitted embarrassingly, looking away with a red face that made you giggle at his shyness.

“that’s okay. that’s normal.” your whispered, pulling the shirt higher until you took it off his shoulders, throwing it away behind you. “but i promise, m’gonna make you feel so good.” you added, pressing a soft kiss on his bare torso, michael’s eyes fluttering closed as he let out a shaky sigh.

your lips traced lower and lower, until your small fingers gripped michael’s belt, making him gasp and grip your wrists.

“w-wait—! i-i can’t let you—!” he mumbled hurriedly, his breathing heavy and loud now.

you looked up into michael’s eyes, yours full of need for the man you’ve craved for so long. “why not? i want to. do you want me to?” you asked gently, the eye contact making michael melt and bite his lower lip.

“b-but.. it’s so dirty.. i-i can’t let you do that..” he mumbled shyly, one of his hands going over his lips, which made you smile.

“s’okay, i wanna be dirty for you.” you whispered, your hands slowly undoing his belt, michael’s breath trembling as he gripped his own thighs.

you unzipped his jeans, tugging them slightly down to see the huge tent in michael’s boxers while he stared down at you. you pressed a soft kiss against his clothed hard-on, keeping eye contact as you looked up into his eyes through your lashes.

michael gasped loudly, his hips twitching up against you, his cheeks bright red. “m-m’sorry—!” He mumbled, before a shaky sigh left his lips as you kept pressing long open mouthed kisses against the thin cotton of his underwear.

“don’t apologize baby, just means m’doing my job right.” you breathed out, your fingers delicately pulling down on the strap of his boxers, making his hard cock slap against your face, making you smile.

michael gasped at the sight beneath him, his mind already dizzy. “o-oh god, oh god..” he panted, hands trembling against his thighs.

you kissed his pretty and flushed tip, making his dick twitch and a choked whimper leave his lips, his eyes fluttering. “breathe, baby.” you whispered, offering kitten licks all over the fat head of his cock, mewls leaving his lips.

as much as michael tried to breathe, he couldn’t slow down his heart. your lips slowly wrapped around his tip, making him gasp and buck his hips up against your face instinctively. the deeper you took him in your throat, the louder his noises were. your throat was so warm, wet and perfect — and you wanted to have him in. you wanted him.

it didn’t take long until you were bobbing your head up and down, loud slurping sounds as you hollowed your cheeks in, tongue swirling around his hard cock nestled deep into your throat. he was huge, and you kept gagging and drooling over him. the sight was so dirty, and michael couldn’t stop the loud moans leaving his plump lips.

“a-agh, g-god—! baby, babybabybaby—“ he cried out, his long slim fingers sliding into your curls, not pushing your head down but just needing to hold you.

you felt him twitch in your mouth, and his whimpers slowly got a higher pitch. you quickly pulled your mouth off him, a loud “pop!” sound filling your ears as you looked up at him, dick pressed against your cheeks with spit all over your chin, smiling with hazy eyelids.

“y-you look so d-dirty..” michael whispered, his cock twitching again — his body in contrast with his words which made you giggle.

“have you ever touched a woman, michael?” you asked gently, sitting back up, your hands slowly peeling the straps of you tank top off your shoulders with a smile.

michael’s breath hitched, his eyes going to your bare shoulders with a huge blush, heart racing. “n-no.” he rasped out, voice shaky as you threw your shirt god knows where, leaving you in a lacy hot pink and black bra.

“do you want to?” you whispered, getting closer, michael’s hands hovering around your bare waist, his lips parted open as he panted.

“p-please.” he whined, his eyes meeting yours, full of need which made you giggle.

your hands went over his, guiding them to your waist, before your lips went back to his, moving slowly as michael’s hands gripped your waist out of instinct.

“you feel so good against me.” you whispered against his lips, slowly crawling over his lap, making michael gasp into your mouth. your clothed pussy was right against his bare cock, still rock hard and needy from the orgasm denial you forced upon him earlier. “d’you wanna see me fully?”

michael nodded quickly and eagerly, his hands still on your waist. “y-yes, yes..” he breathed out, voice trembling while his eyes stayed on your tits sitting so prettily due to your bra.

you smiled gently, your hips slightly raising as you slid your shorts and panties down in one go, your pussy glistening from arousal just by sucking michael’s cock.

you settled back down on michael’s lap, his hard cock sliding between your wet folds, both of you letting out a shaky sigh.

“o-oh g-god, you’re s-so wet..” whimpered michael, his head throwing back as you slowly grind down against him, your wetness coating his length, gentle sighs leaving your lips.

your eyes scanned over him, realizing his size. sure, you weren’t unexperienced, it’s not like you’ve never seen a dick before — but god, michael was big. not super thick — but he was long. you bit your lip at the mix of the image of mike’s cock glistening with your wetness and your clit grinding against said length.

“i-i need to feel you inside me. y’gonna let me? gonna let me ride you?” you whispered, grinding a bit faster against michael, his eyes fluttering closed as his hips bucket up against yours.

“p-please.” he cried out, and you didn’t need to be asked twice.

you lined yourself up with michael’s twitching dick, shivering before you slowly slid down, inch by inch, feeling him stretch you open. your eyes fluttered closed, loud moans leaving your lips as your body adjusted to michael’s size. michael was whimpering, his hands squeezing your waist as they trembled, eyes practically rolling back as you slid down his length.

once you bottomed out, michael whined your name, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hid his face in your neck, panting heavily between whimpers. “o-oh b-babyyyy, f-feels soooo good..” he whimpered, hips twitching as he trembled.

you slowly started bouncing your hips over his, the tip of his cock hitting those perfect spongy spots inside you that already had you seeing white. “c-can’t believe m’your f-first, g-god fuck—“ you whimpered, slowly speeding up as wet sounds filled the room, a continuous “shlick , shlick , shlick” mixed with moans and whimpers. “w-wanna have you everyday, m-my boy..” you whispered against michael’s hairline as he kept his face in the crook of your neck, hypnotized by the feeling of your tight walls around him.

michael’s whimpers got louder and louder at your words, and you could feel him twitch inside you as you kept riding him, his hands now roaming all over your body in desperation — a stark contrast in confidence compared to earlier.

“i-i can’t, y’feel t-too good, o-ohhh—“ michael cried out, his head throwing back as your fingers went down to rub your swollen clit.

“m’so close, angel. p-please cum with me.” you whispered, breath ghosting over michael’s face as you kept riding him, ass bouncing against him.

michael’s eyes darted down, looking at your tiny hole swallowing him with each bounce until you started clenching around him — and it was all too much.

michael came deep inside you with cries of your name, his eyes closing as his hips twitched up, squeezing your waist. “o-oh—! i-i love you—!”

his words sent a spark down your spine, making you cum quickly after him. loud mewls left your lips as you clamped down around him, sucking his cock in like you never wanted to let go.

you collapsed against his chest, panting heavily while small drops of michael’s cum slid out of you, rolling down against his thighs while you sat seated on his lap.

“i love you too.” you whispered against michael’s shoulder, pressing a soft kiss as he panted heavily.

a/n: PHEWWWW this is my longest fic yet 😭😭😭 i hate how i wrote this eughh also my first mj fanfic pls b nice … pls accept my blog mjtumblr also PLSS CAN U TELL I LIKE DIRTY TALK

mattbymills © 2026

[f0ofishies]

A Small Taste of Marriage

It all happened so fast— You were wearing a shiromuku as the attire for today. It was your mother's, and here you are staring at the man who was to be your husband, Tomioka Giyuu. But this wedding was not from love, it was from a deal. How did it even get to this point?

A few months back, you were just sneaking out at night, as a rebellious young adult would do. Your plan was perfect to a tee well until you’ve gotten yourself in a bit of a pickle. The demon was about to attack you before you got saved by a young man, well younger to be exact. That was your first experience with a demon and just recently learned about demon slayers corps.

What you noticed was the way he could use different types of breathing styles when you had literally no idea how he does it! His name, Kamado Tanjiro, what a sweet young man. You've later found out— he had a group with his other friends, a man with a boar head and a neon yellow haired man. He also had a demon younger sister..? Though you don’t mind her, she's actually pretty adorable. There was another particular male, but he kept to himself most of the time.

Being the granddaughter of a government official was pretty much being spoiled rotten by everyone, but you are a dear. You've been disciplined and have also earned skills to show honor in your family name. With a grandfather as old as he is, time is the only thing that can't be bought— so here you are beside him.

He let out a coughing fit, your heart couldn't bear looking at him like that. “Grandfather let me help..!” Your delicate hands wrapped the small damp towel onto his forehead. “You’re burning up..” The revelation didn’t concern him nor did he press on the topic of his own health. “My dear, you mustn't worry too much now.” His small token of appreciation from your actions gradually melted your heart. “Tell me, why did you need my presence?”

“WHAAAT—!” A loud yell could be heard throughout the house, servants were concerned for their dear heir. “You want me to marry already?” Your voice caught in your throat as your grandfather, your only guardian, was about to make you marry Tomioka Giyuu. That man who you've only shared a small introduction, from the meetings you've had with Tanjiro. The same man that had the title of ‘Water Hashira’. You did not want this, no! A husband? That’s too much of a hassle for yourself. “You must reconsider this..”

“I have already decided with the young master..” You cannot believe this, you don’t want to believe this. This was all too much information to handle in the span of 15 minutes, only then the deafening silence filled the room. Though, as your mind races with a bizarre range of thoughts of which both your mind and your heart are at different sides. The sole purpose for this marriage was just an arrangement of your grandfather and Master Ubayashiki to ensure the safety of you in exchange of a largely vast donation for the corps.

Your mind considers the increase in demons around this time period and yet your heart does not want to be tangled to another purely for safety and not love. And now here you are dressed like a bride, a beautiful one to be exact. An exact replica to how your mother’s wedding photos were, at least that’s what your grandfather would’ve said, his life ended shortly before the wedding. 

Giyuu wasn’t a distasteful type of man, he’s actually pretty handsome and just overall shy. That night, you both didn’t do the marital act under the disguise of it being too early to do it. Marriage life wasn’t hard per se, although it was peaceful it still felt suffocating for you. Giyuu comes home most times, you’d talk for a while then go to your preferred alone time. You couldn’t live like this forever— it wasn’t a routine you’d let yourself fall accustomed to, so you broke the walls between him. A small talk here and there, then it leads to tea sessions between one another. It gave a sense of security between the both of you, it thread over the lines of friendship and perhaps lovers. None of you dared to question the unrelenting question towards this.

Even though it was your residence and had plenty of staff at times, you still wanted to be a dutiful wife— your activities would be helping around the kitchen and occasionally cleaning. Tonight you wanted to make his favourite meal, even if you’ve never done it before, the effort might be the hint he needed. Simmered salmon with daikon radish, the stew was supposed to be comforting for him, it was drowsed with mirin, sake, and many varied ingredients. So, why did you remake it three times? One of the staff had stayed to be your taste-tester, she liked them all. You were just being anxious, Giyuu wouldn’t like it since it wasn’t up to his standards. 

The shuffle of the sliding door echoed through the residence. He’s here! You appeared in the hallway already, greeting your husband. “Good evening, Giyuu-san.” Your tone had shifted to a more cheery one. His face relaxed seeing your expression. “Good evening, dear.” The katana he usually carries is discarded by the front door, quickly you help carry it. Giyuu knew you had such fascination on the blade he wielded. “Careful.” He noted beside you, the sound of your huff close to his ear surprised him. “I am, I’m not a kid you know.”

As they both slid into the dining area, his eyes fixated on the large pot covered. “Is this dinner?” You chirped, “Yeah, I made it!” Your voice echoed in the next room, throughout your whole marriage both of you had chosen to sleep on separate futons, out of respect for each other. Once the katana was laced back in its original place. Giyuu had already opened the pot, once he saw you come into view he let out a smile. Wow, he looks so handsome, the thought evaporated quickly, as he approached you. “Did you like the surprise?”

“Very much..” He hesitated on embracing you, his hands twitched— You noticed, of course you did, clasping each other's hands. Rubbing his rough palms as you smiled. “I wanted to treat you, its the least I could do.. Since you're out there always in danger.” He could feel something shift between you two, as he gulped. The dim-lit room covered the way his face was pinkish. “I am truly grateful, thank you.” He took the first move, shifting his legs closer to you and hugged your shoulders. Even now, he was so respectful to you. He caressed your soft locks, as he breathed in your scent. “Shall we eat?” You whisper, the soft grumble from his stomach indicated just how hungry he was.

The dinner was nice for both of you, you each followed the same nightly routine, except he didn’t leave the table first, he waited for you to finish the meal. His eyes had burned at the back of your head, as you crouched washing the dishes in a bowl, his stare so intense, you felt so seen. Turning around meeting his gaze, “Giyuu, come here.” And just like that he was right beside you. Something encouraged you to get up and tilt your head so near to his, your lips— his lips were so near. Giyuu pulled away, covering his mouth, “I don’t want to take advantage of you.” The tips of his ear deepen another shade of color. 

You pouted, “Don’t.. I want this.. But do you?” The small plea in your voice broke his silence. He had kissed your forehead, another pout. “You’re treating me like a kid, I am not that younger than you.” The small complaint made him chuckle. “But, you act like one.” Sure, they had an age gap but they were both adults anyway. If he wouldn’t do it, you’ll do it instead. You grabbed both his cheeks and pulled him down to your lips. The kiss was brief as both of them succumbed to it.

Once you both pulled away, his expression completely set something lit inside you. You puckered your lips again. “Again.” You muttered against his lips as both of you kissed again, already getting accustomed to how to kiss. Giyuu pulled away first, rubbing his palm against your waist. “This place isn’t appropriate,” gesturing to the scene where they were in. The bedroom door slides shut, as Giyuu holds onto your hand. Both of you smiled, “I have been holding back all this time.” He admitted beside you, now both of you stood in front of one another.

“I had thought that this marriage would mean like a cage to you—” before you could even cut him off, he had shushed you already with a rub against your waist. “I refrained from engaging any of this with you, because I respect you so much to the point where I couldn’t express my infatuation to you.” You cut him off, “I know, I could feel it.” Your hands pressed against his haori. “Which is why, I want us to be more affectionate.. I crave it.” You admitted slowly as his breath hitched. “Then can I give you my love?”

He had shifted your leg over his shoulder, clothes discarded across the room. Giyuu is and will always be a determined man, which is why he’s determined to pleasure you. His mouth latched onto your clit, while his eyes paid every expression on your face ensuring you were in a good mood. He sucked lower, easing your thighs with his hands, “Doing so well for me..” He flattened out his tongue against your slit, giving kitten licks towards your poor pussy. 

For you, this was such a surreal experience, the way you both were confessing and now doing such marital acts, it gushed your pussy even more as it oozed out more of your wetness. “Giyuu owwhh, it feels all so tinglyy..” You held onto the wall for support, trying to stay so quiet hoping you didn’t disturb the guards posted right outside the residence. You moaned once more, as he had particularly tried another approach, one thumb rubbing your clit as he had shoved his tongue inside of you. This heightened up your pleasure by a ton, as you suddenly came just from that. 

You looked down at him, whining “You.. you’ve done this before..” You whispered as he shaked his head. He pulled off his tongue, as your folds gushed out the rest of the liquid you had produced. His chin stain from the results of your pleasure was evident. “No, never.. I am just experimenting on you.” He trailed off as he rubbed your thigh. “You did so great, it felt nice I am assuming.” You meekly nodded at that, looking down on him. “Yes.. it did..” 

Now you were on the bed, back to your mattress as you felt his fingers probe inside of you. “Does it hurt..?” He asked, it was useless to ask when you’re absolutely losing your mind as you moaned out loud. “Noo.. it’s sososo good..” you huffed as he had made a scissor motion. “I have to prepare you, my dear.” He grunted against you, easing the inside of your folds, going at a pace comfortable for you. Sprouts of your arousal had stained the futon under both of you making a squelching sound. “You’re doing well, look at you, you’re leaking so much.”

The sound of his pants rustled, could be heard as you both kissed once more, you pulled away to look at him. Slap! His dick had slapped against his stomach as your eyes zeroed onto it, it was throbbing, erected with a burning pink shade. He pulled back his foreskin, revealing the tip as you gasped. You didn’t know this was what a man’s genitals were like, the textbooks never really gave you a bright image onto your mind. “Giyuu, is that.. thing supposed to enter me?” He slowly nodded.

You let out a small breath, “This thing.. Will it hurt?” You needed to air out the question as he couldn’t help but chuckle again. “My dear, my dick.. is not a thing.” His hand held onto his base, slowly stroking it up and down. “But, it will.. And you must know if you are not up for it we can always stop—” You huffed again, “No, please.. I need this.” Giyuu couldn’t believe just how brave you were as he let out a small sigh. “Of course, we can always go at your pace.” 

Another change of positions, as Giyuu lay flat against the futon now. You perched on his thighs as his dick was just standing upright. You brushed your hands against it, "There we go, dear, you can just.. hah.. stroke it just like that.” It twitches against your soft palms, then you hover above it. “Go slowly okay?” He reminded you, your hips lowering down, as your pussy drips down against that pinkish tip. The intrusion made you weak, He had quickly helped up your thighs as you moaned out. “It’s..” Your lips made an ‘o’ shape as the inside of your folds gripped his dick so much. The sound of Giyuu slowly moaning made you gush out more— right on his thighs.

Once settled down, each inch disappearing right inside of you, only sitting down for a brief moment. “It’s inside me..!” the small comment made him twitch inside as you let out a gasp. “My dear.. hah, please refrain from speaking that..” He pleaded against you, as both your eyes met. “Why.. hehe..” another twitch again as you moaned out. “I might just bust inside you already..” He was balls deep inside you, he needed to hold back just for you. You squirmed at the comment, “Hah.. nonono not yet..” You whined.

A steady rhythm was paced between you two, you were lightly bouncing right on top of him, as he held down your thighs fondling with your breasts. “Fffuck.. Hah you’re just extraordinary.. bouncing sshit just like that, dear..” His voice when he cursed abrupt such a fast orgasm out of you, as cum sprayed right onto his legs as you screamed. You almost collapsed on top of him as he got up. “I got you.” His hands wrapped around your waist shifting both of you.

The sound your pussy makes was just so good, he held back against cumming already. “My dear..” He laid you down onto the futon again, spreading your legs as it hovered up. Once he pushed his fat tip against your folds again made you babble on your words, not even making sense to his ears. “...Waitwait.. sososo sensitive Giyuuuu…” The only coherent words you said to him, as he chuckled. “I need to cum too.. My sweet.” He whispered, going at a pace that hit against the spongy flesh inside of you. Your pussy tightened up as soon as he thrusted more, the sound of delicious skin was heard.

“Hah.. wife.. You’re absolutely divine.. I might just get you pregnant…!”

[tiannabananna]

۶ৎ 𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲

۶ৎ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:


You walk into Chan’s room late at night to drop off something he forgot, only to find him deeply asleep, flushed, breathing unevenly, and clearly caught in the middle of an extremely vivid wet dream—his hips twitching, soft moans slipping past his lips, and an obvious, straining bulge tenting his sweatpants. As his longtime friend who’s always secretly wanted more, you convince yourself it would be cruel to leave him like this… so you decide to “help” while he’s still lost in sleep.


۶ৎ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬:

somnophilia (non-con/dub-con elements due to him being asleep), handjob, oral (reader giving), Chan waking up mid-act, mutual pining that finally snaps, soft-turned-rough sex, praise, slight possessiveness from Chan once he’s awake, creampie. 18+ only.

⏔⏔⏔ ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ ⏔⏔⏔

The door to Chan’s room is already cracked open when you arrive, probably from him airing out the stuffy space earlier. You only meant to slip the charger onto his desk and leave, he’d been complaining about his phone dying mid-session all day.

But the second you step inside, the air feels different. Thicker. Warmer.

He’s sprawled on his back across the bed, sheets kicked down to his thighs, black tank riding up to expose the hard cut of his abs. His chest rises and falls too fast for regular sleep. A thin sheen of sweat glistens along his collarbones. And between his spread legs…

God.

The gray sweatpants do nothing to hide how hard he is, thick, heavy outline pressing insistently against the fabric, a dark wet spot already blooming at the tip. His hips give these tiny, helpless rolls every few seconds like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach. A low, broken whimper escapes him.

“Fuck… please…”

Your name.

He’s moaning your name.

Your stomach flips so violently you almost drop the charger.

You should leave. You know you should leave.

But your feet won’t move.

Another soft, needy sound spills from his throat. His hand twitches like he wants to touch himself but can’t quite wake up enough to do it. The wet patch spreads.

You swallow hard.

What kind of friend would you be if you just… walked away and left him aching like this?

You set the charger down silently. Step closer.

His lashes flutter but don’t open. His lips part on another shaky exhale of your name.

You kneel on the edge of the mattress, heart slamming against your ribs. Slowly, carefully, you rest your palm over the length of him through the cotton.

He jolts.

A long, relieved groan rumbles in his chest. His hips buck up into your hand before he even fully registers it.

You squeeze gently.

“Shhh,” you whisper, thumb brushing over the soaked head. “I’ve got you.”

Another whimper. His brows pinch like he’s trying to surface, but the dream still has him under.

You tug the waistband down just enough. His cock springs free, thick, flushed dark, slick at the tip, veins standing out. You wrap your fingers around him and fuck, he’s burning hot, throbbing in your grip.

The first slow stroke makes his whole body arch.

“Y/N…” he breathes, voice wrecked, still asleep.

You lean down. Let your tongue flick over the slit, tasting salt and need.

He chokes on a moan.

You take him deeper, past your lips, over your tongue, until he’s nudging the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and suck.

His hand flies to your hair even in sleep, fingers curling weakly.

You bob slowly at first, savoring the weight of him, the way he twitches every time you swirl around the head. Then faster. Wetter. Messier.

His breathing turns ragged. Hips jerking up in shallow thrusts he can’t control.

“Fuck—gonna—” he slurs, still not quite awake.

You pull off with a wet pop, replace your mouth with your hand, and pump him hard and fast.

His eyes snap open.

For one suspended second he just stares, pupils blown, lips swollen, chest heaving, trying to understand why his best friend is between his legs with her hand wrapped around his leaking cock.

Then he groans your name like a prayer and a curse at the same time.

“Wha—what are you—oh god don’t stop—”

You don’t.

You stroke him faster, slick sounds filling the room. His abs clench, thighs trembling.

“Been dreaming about you,” he rasps, voice shot. “Every night—fuck—thought it was just another dream—”

“It’s not,” you murmur, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m really here.”

He surges up, crashing his lips against yours, desperate, messy, tasting himself on your tongue. His hands grab your hips, yanking you into his lap so fast you gasp.

Clothes come off in frantic pulls. Your shirt, his tank, your shorts, his ruined sweats. Then he’s pressing you down into the mattress, caging you with his body, cock sliding hot and slick between your folds.

“Tell me you want this,” he pants against your throat. “Tell me I’m not still dreaming.”

“I want it,” you breathe. “Want you. Please, Chan—”

He sinks in with one long, slow thrust.

You both moan, loud, broken.

He’s so thick it almost stings, but the stretch is perfect, filthy, everything you’ve imagined on nights you touched yourself thinking about him.

He starts moving, deep, rolling thrusts that hit exactly where you need. His mouth finds your neck, sucking marks you know you’ll have to hide tomorrow.

“Mine,” he growls against your skin. “Fucking finally—mine—”

You claw at his back. “Yours—Chan—harder—”

He gives it to you. Hips snapping, bed creaking, headboard knocking the wall. One hand pins your wrists above your head; the other hooks under your knee, spreading you wider so he can go deeper.

You’re both loud, moans, gasps, filthy praise.

“Feel so good—fuck—so tight around me—”

“Chan—gonna come—don’t stop—”

“Come on my cock,” he orders, voice rough. “Let me feel it—been dying to feel you come for me—”

You shatter.

Back arching, thighs shaking, crying his name as you pulse around him.

He fucks you through it, growling, stuttering, then buries himself to the hilt and comes with a long, guttural moan, spilling hot and deep inside you.

For a minute you just lie there, panting, sticky, tangled.

He presses soft, shaky kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips.

“Was gonna confess tomorrow,” he mumbles, embarrassed. “Had this whole plan…”

You laugh breathlessly, threading fingers through his damp curls.

“Guess I ruined the surprise.”

He grins against your neck.

“Best fucking interruption of my life.”

He doesn’t pull out yet. Just holds you close, still half-hard inside you, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

You don’t plan on going anywhere.

[makeyoumine69]

Tim couldn't stop filling you up. (Kinktober 2025)

Pairing: Tim Drake x Fem!Reader Kinks: Creampie Requested by: @jakiicomics💓

Tim promised he'd pull out.

But now your back was pressed against the desk in his hideout, papers scattering to the floor, his mouth buried against your throat as he fucked you open. Your thighs locked around his waist, dragging him deeper, holding him where you both knew he couldn’t control himself.

His cock pulsed inside you, hot and thick, and you could already feel him getting close again.

"Tim—" you gasped, fingers clawing into his shoulders. "You said—"

"I know," he cut you off, ragged and frantic, hips snapping against yours. His voice cracked, broken in your ear. "I know. But I can’t—"

The words dissolved into a low, guttural groan as he shoved himself all the way in and cummed again, spilling hot, thick, relentless. You clenched hard around him, your body milking every drop, and he shuddered like it was killing him.

"Fuck," he gasped, trembling against you. His cock twitched inside your soaked walls, already overstimulated, already leaking more than it should. "I can’t stop cumming in you."

You should’ve shoved him off, maybe slapped him, maybe told him to get a grip. But instead you arched into him, moaning at the way he filled you, at the warm slickness dripping down your thighs.

He groaned when he felt it—the mess he’d made—and the sound was almost desperate.

"I keep trying," he admitted, voice breaking. "I tell myself I’ll pull out—next time, I swear. But then I’m inside you and it’s so fucking good, I lose everything. My brain—my training—it’s just gone. It’s only you. Only your pussy. I’m addicted."

His forehead pressed to yours, sweat sticking your skin together, his breath hot and ragged. But his hips didn’t stop. Even after cumming, even when his cock twitched too much to bear, he couldn’t stop fucking into you.

"Tim, you’re—ahh—" you gasped, the stretch almost unbearable. "You’re still—"

"I know. I know." His hand cupped your face like an apology, even as his thrusts grew messier, sloppier. "I can’t stop filling you. You don’t get it—I need it. Need you dripping with me, every time."

You whimpered when he hit deep, when another rush of heat spilled inside you, your cunt clamping down as if your body wanted every drop.

"That’s it," he groaned, kissing you hard, teeth clashing, like he had to devour you or lose his mind. "God, you take me so good. No one else—fuck, no one else could."

By the time he finally stilled, you’d lost count of how many times he’d come. All you knew was the way he stayed inside you, refusing to pull out even now, cock still throbbing weakly as his arms caged you in.

And when you whispered his name, half-plea, half-reproach, his lips ghosted your ear with a hoarse promise:

"One more. Just one more time. I swear."

Kinktober 2025 by makeyoumine69™

[heartz4angels]

“ Velveteen Rabbit. ”

cw : ftm & poc reader, husband & soft dom izuku, pet names, reader gets called bunny once, slight feminization, cowgirl, prone bone, headlocks, dumbification, overstim, squirting, established relationship, creampie & implied aftercare

a / n : working on requests and an izuku fic rn but i need to get this out i’m ITCHING for him. this is very self indulgent i feel the need to remind you guys that i haven’t forgotten my original target audience. hi guys ^—^

izuku remembers when you were mean.

well, technically, you’re still mean—just not to him. which is more than fair in his eyes. it’s just that, izuku remembers when you hated everyone including him. the first time you sparred, he’s pretty sure you tried to give him a concussion on minimum, and a cracked skull at worst.

you’re not that mean anymore. he prefers it this way, really.

especially when you’re like this—settled on top of him, drool that you don’t seem to notice, or care about, sliding down your chin as you bounce on top of him without a care in the world after your third orgasm. yeah. he prefers it like this.

“you’re so sweet to me,” izuku has a dumb smile on his face, keeping those scarred hands on your hips to guide you every once in a while. he doesn’t think you’re listenin’, but that’s okay. “so pretty like this.”

the words are followed with a kiss on your cheek and a thick thumb on your clit, your little determined movements stuttering for a moment as you jolt. whatever trance you were in pauses for a moment—blinking as you lock eyes with him. you’re . . . soft? is that the way to describe it? when you’re like this.

a little stupid, even, but that’s okay. izuku’s there to do the thinking for you.

“aw; don’t stop moving for me, honey. you can keep going,” your husband coos, hands encouraging your hips to move—and you listen. hands on his chest, the pretty, gentle gold ring with his name carved into it catching the light from the lamp as you start riding him again.

he’s big. izuku’s always been big, especially these past couple years ever since the two of you graduated. it’s a little ridiculous. the thought slips from your mind though as you pick up the pace, moaning softly with each bounce. stupidly, you would argue that you’re your husband’s biggest fan, and izuku would agree.

the sounds and scent in the room are both outright filthy. he whimpers every time you grind down on him—and you hiccup when he spells out his name on your twitchy nub. you’re fucking each other stupid. as per usual.

“i-izu,” you manage to squeak out that dumb nickname you’ve been using for him, the one that took him forever to convince you to use. “‘m gonna cum. y-you’re gonna-”

“shh, shh, i know. lemme take over.”

he’s so gentle with you, despite the way he makes sure you can’t walk without his help after he fucks you. you know what he means when he offers to take over—and you never say no.

you’re reluctant to pull off of him, but izuku just smushes your cheeks and makes you flip over. takes his time looking at your poor, pliant pussy; sloppy and wet. he always ignores the way you whine at him, tellin’ him not to look as he feels himself go a little dumb just at the sight of you.

“i’m gonna take care of you, mkay? just let me handle it, pretty boy.” he murmurs, and pushes your hips flat against the soft, green colored silk sheets on the bed. they’re gonna need a wash after this.

“let izu handle it.” the words are mindless when you’re like this, back arched as you drool into the soft pillow. he’s been putting in this position a lot as of late—but it isn’t like you’re complaining.

you feel when the tip pops in, ‘cause it’s hard not to, honestly. it has your eyes rolling back when he pushes in deeper—making space for himself while you’re willing. soft and warm just for him.

always just for him.

“mmh, fuck. relax a little, bunny,” izuku laughs, but it’s breathless and breaks off into a moan. “we’ll cum together, yeah?”

“yeah . . .” you nod, gasping when he finally bottoms out. the feeling leaves you dizzy and breathless, eyes rolling back as izuku slowly picks up where you left off—speeding up to your pace in just a few thrusts.

there’s a filthy noise every time he pulls and pushes. and you know better, gosh, you know better, but your teeth sink into the pillow and you practically bite down every noise by force of habit. you don’t exactly enjoy letting your neighbors know you’re getting the soul fucked out of you at the moment.

izuku doesn’t seem to really care, though.

“ah-ah,” your husband leans down, and you can feel the weight of his body and his dick, and it makes your heart stutter. “you know not to do that. thought i taught you better than that.”

“i-i don’t wanna-”

“it’s okay, sweet thing.” oh. “i know how worried you can get. that’s why i gotta do the thinking for you,” izuku slowly lifts your head up, tapping your cheek for a moment before wrapping his bicep around you.

oh.

you subconsciously squeeze around him—already wound up tight with nerves and stars bursting behind your eyelids as you take a deep breath. force of habit by now.

“there we go. lemme handle you.”

he doesn’t give you another second to think before he pulls out, leaving just the tip, before sinking right back in. this time, you squeal, unable to hold it back from the mere feeling of him settling right back in where he belongs.

and he fucks you just like that—making sure you let out every hiccup, squeak and moan, grinding into you every once in a while just to let you feel him.

when he adjusts his angle, tilting his hips up justttt a little, you’re a goner.

“ohmygoshhhh- there! there- izu!”

this time, izuku doesn’t bother giving you much of a response besides another groan—swallowing down his own drool at the feeling of you getting ready to cum this time. it’s like both of you can sense it, used to each other’s bodies to the point you can just tell.

“uh-huh, i know, pretty boy. i know.” izuku’s arm tightens around your throat, and you gurgle in a pathetic attempt to respond, feeling that band in your tummy stretch and stretch.

it’s not like you can help it. he’s the reason you’re like this, after all. years of putting you above himself has you like this.

you tighten up real nice around him, nearly pushing his cock out in the process, feeling your own wetness slide down your thighs and onto the sheets. it’s filthy. it leaves you raw, messy and drooling onto your husband’s arm.

it never fails to make him smile.

“o-oh,” izuku’s hips stutter for a moment, grinding nice and deep into your poor cervix. “ah, shit. that felt good, huh sweetheart?”

he sounds breathless—voice teetering into a whimper as he presses a kiss to your temple, letting you nod. you don’t have to talk for him to know how happy he makes you.

just the thought has his thrusts getting sloppier. more uncoordinated than before. it doesn’t have any less effect on either of you, really, because it still leaves you stuck between running away from it, or pressing back into it.

it doesn’t take much for izuku to press his middle and index fingers to your clit—rubbing messy circles onto it as your breath hitches, and his moans start cracking.

“mmh, fuck. fuck. you gonna cum again? make yourself feel good?”

“mhm- mhm! please, pleaseee—”

izuku always, always makes sure to give you a kiss whenever he cums inside of you. swallows down whatever pathetic noise you make when you milk him for all he’s worth, both of your hips twitching helplessly against each other.

by the time he lets you out of that headlock, you’re boneless and melting into the bed, thighs trembling as he pulls out with a gross, wet noise while rubbing your hips in a soothing manner. almost like he’s sorry for fucking you after such a long day.

“ . . . you want me to run the bath?”

“mmh.”

[cinna-creme]

a/n: this was supposed to be freak!zu and somehow it became domestic 💔

thinking abt roommate!izuku who is slowly turning you into his lil housewife. like you complain about your job once and he’s telling you to quit saying you’re too pretty to stress about anything.

he’ll wave you off when you say it’s too much for him to pay for everything and says he doesn’t mind as long as you cook and clean and places a kiss on your forehead before heading out for the day.

he gets rock hard when he steps into the apartment and finds you in the kitchen in a cute frilly apron making him dinner and you turn to him with the widest smile saying it’s a new recipe and telling him to come try.

and he leans in behind you while you cook and rests his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, whispering the softest words that bring heat to your cheeks.

after really long days he’ll come home and just collapse on the couch and you stand behind him and rub his shoulders, pretending that every groan isn’t going straight between your thighs.

“c’mere pretty girl. just wanna hold you.” he pulls you around the couch and down onto his lap and wraps his arms around you holding you close.

“you work too hard.” you hum, running your fingers through his hair.

“gotta keep the wife happy.” he lets out a breathy chuckle.

“then.. lemme help my husband relax while dinner cooks.” you pull back.

you’ve felt how hard he’s been since you’ve sat down and you’re quick to pull him out of his pants and pump him a few times. he watches you with parted lips and starts to shove up your dress. he tugs your panties to the side and slides his fingers through your folds like he’s already mapped you out.

you lift up and slide his tip through your slick before lining him up at your entrance and slowly sinking down. your toes curl as he splits you open, hands trembling on his shoulders as his eyes stare into yours.

the moment you ass meets his thighs, he’s pulling you into a sloppy kiss and grinding his hips up into yours. you’re gasping into his mouth, rocking against him unable to keep a rhythm.

“i got you.” he mumbles, holding your hips and fucking up into you.

and he’s not fucking up into you with a purpose he’s just slowly plunging in and out of you. sighs slip past his lips, fingers dug into your plush as he loses himself to your perfect pussy.

“my pretty wife.” one of his hands cups your cheek. “so perfect and so sweet.” he nods. “cooks and cleans and then rides me after a long day.”

“i.. i wanna ride you zuku.. lemme- ngh! lemme take care of you like a good wife.” you nod, thighs shaking as you start to bounce.

when you start to actually ride him, his head tips back and his grip breaks on your waist. you feel the coil in your tummy and chase your pleasure knowing he’ll cum with you by the sounds coming from his lips.

“izu!” the first pulse of your orgasm pulses through you.

“fuck.” his fingers dig into you again.

you keep humping against him when you feel his warmth start to fill you. he yanks you against his chest, stilling you and panting into your neck. the timer goes off on the oven and you pull back.

“dinners almost ready.” you smile and press a small kiss to the corner of his mouth and get up.

“wanna get married?” he calls after you watching his cum leak down your thighs.

[eikyuuni]

18+ mdni

your ex's name had slipped out of your mouth earlier in the night, buried somewhere in the middle of a rant, and katsuki hadn't said a single word. he'd just listened, arms crossed, jaw tight, letting you get it all out—right up until one particular line that made something in him snap.

"he probably thinks no one else will ever want me."

that one sat in the silence for a second. you'd tried to laugh it off. he hadn't.

now you're on your back in his bed, your breath punched out of you in sharp, helpless little noises, nails digging crescents into his shoulders while he hovers over you like a storm about to break.

"fuckin' idiot," he growls, the words grinding out of him in time with every rough, determined roll of his hips. "who wouldn't want you? you're— fuck— you're perfect. tight little pussy like this? he should be on his knees beggin'."

you whimper his name, and his gaze snaps to yours, eyes blazing, sharp and mean in a way that clearly isn't aimed at you.

oh, he's mad. just not at you.

suddenly, he pulls back just enough to reach over you, hand fumbling blindly along the nightstand for his phone. you blink up at him, dazed and confused.

"katsuki... what're you—"

"let's really fuck him up."

he angles his phone so the camera catches the two of you perfectly; your flushed face, your messy hair, the way you're clinging to him. he pans it down to where his cock is still buried inside you, his free hand sliding down to press lightly over your stomach, making sure the outline of him pushing deep is in the shot. "let him see exactly what he lost."

your breath hitches, heat rushing up your neck at the thought of it—of him seeing you like this. it makes your walls flutter around him. "oh, you like that, huh?" his grin widens, cruel and triumphant. "yeah, of course you do. bet he never made you feel this full. bet he never knew what to do with you."

the bed creaks under you both as he rolls his hips again, his thumb now circling your clit in a slow back and forth motion, and the sound that rips out of you is embarrassingly raw.

katsuki shoves the phone closer to your face, making sure the camera catches every detail—your glassy eyes, your kiss swollen lips. "smile, princess," he rasps, smug satisfaction dripping from every word.

"let's show him how much better your best friend treats you."

a/n a slight rewrite from one of my posts on yuunisvault so if it looks familiar, that's why! ♡ likes and reblogs are much appreciated! | mha masterlist

[kryptidfiles]

Lover Boy

pairing David!Clark Kent x wife!reader summary Clark's a greedy, indecisive man when it comes to you. tags minimal plot, mostly porn, 18+, mdni, smuuuut, hot n heavy make out, fingering, oral (f receiving), groping, brief nipple play, body worship, doggy style bark bark, creampie, the suit stays on, Smug!Clark, Lovesick!Clark wc 3k

Not my finest work. Wrote in one sleepy pass, if you saw a mistake, you know the drill 🫵🏼 no. you. didnt.

based on this ask (is Clark a boob/ass man?) | Mrs. Kent Diaries

Clark’s hands were on you the moment the farmhouse door quietly clicked shut behind him.

It was well past midnight, and he was still in the suit, blue and red stark against the dim pink wallpaper of his parent's hallway, against the worn denim of your jeans and the soft cotton of your white t-shirt.

He crowded in close before you could get a full breath, broad chest firm and unyielding as he pressed you back against the wall, and the little sound that left you—a soft, startled, breathy oof—barely made it out before your hands came up on instinct to grab at his biceps.

His arms, impossibly strong and somehow still gentle, slid around your waist and pulled you tighter against him. Heat rolled off him through the fabric between you. Want settled hot and low in your ribs, sudden and familiar and a little embarrassing in how fast your body answered him.

"Baby, I missed you too, but…" you breathed, the protest weak even as it left your mouth. "Ma and Pa are just down the hall."

"They’re sleeping," he murmured, a confident rumble that vibrated through his chest and into yours. His mouth found the spot just below your ear like he’d been thinking about it for hours, and then he was kissing there, slow at first, then nipping, then sucking gently until your fingers tightened on him. "Soundly. I checked."

"But still, behave." 

The words were automatic despite your pleasure, a reflex honed over years of stolen moments in this very house.

A slow, smug smile spread against your skin. You felt it more than saw it. 

"Oh, that’s funny. You know that just makes things worse."

It did. I absolutely did. You should’ve known by now. The command, the pretense of propriety, was a spark to the tinder of his focus. That singular, overwhelming attention he turned on you when the world wasn’t watching. 

One of his hands slid down, broad palm spanning the curve of your ass through your jeans, holding you there with a possessive little squeeze that made your breath catch. The other came up to your face, thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip, once, twice, like he was reacquainting himself with the shape of your mouth. You opened for him without thinking. Caught the pad of his thumb between your lips.

His eyes flicked to yours, bright blue in the moonlight spilling in from the kitchen window at the end of the hall, and all at once the teasing softened a notch.

"I missed you, sweetheart," he confessed, quieter now.

He’d been gone thirty-six hours. A tectonic event in Indonesia. Unstable plates, a collapsing undersea volcano, too many people in danger, too much pressure under too much water. He’d kissed you quick before he left and promised he’d be careful, and you’d nodded like you always did, and then spent the night pretending not to count the hours. You’d stayed up just long enough to welcome him on his return.

"Did my girls miss me?" his gaze dropped pointedly to the front of your shirt.

You let out a soft laugh, one hand sliding up into his hair at the nape of his neck, fingers curling there.

"They’ve been inconsolable," you murmured, a smile curving your lips. "Pining. A real Greek tragedy."

He chuckled, the sound a pleasant tremor against your sternum. 

"Yeah?" he asked, mouth brushing your jaw, already moving lower again. "I could fix that."

He didn’t kiss your mouth.

Instead, he bent, dipping his head to nose the neckline of your t-shirt aside, his breath hot over the upper swell of your breast before his lips closed over the thin cotton, drawing the fabric—and the sensitive flesh beneath—into the warm, wet pull of his mouth. Pleasure struck sharp and sweet, a clean jolt from your nipple straight to your core, and you gasped, fingers tangling helplessly in the cape at his shoulders and in the thick, dark curls at the nape of his neck.

He made a satisfied, hungry sound against you, his tongue swirling a damp circle through the material. The cotton clung to you, soaked and transparent. He switched to the other breast, giving it the same devoted, thorough attention, his free hand kneading the cheek of your ass in a slow, rhythmic pulse. You felt the hard ridge of his cock through the spandex of his suit, press against your hip.

"Clark," you moaned, your head falling back against the wall. "Your suit…"

"Hm?" he mumbled, mouth still working at your breast. "What about it?"

"You’ll—it’ll get…"

"Hon, I don’t care."

He lifted his head then, finally, and the look on his face made your stomach drop. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, your shirt damp and cool where the hallway air hit it. His mouth was wet. He looked a wreck already.

"I’ve been thinking about you," he said, voice rougher now, gaze dropping to your chest again. "About these since I left. The way they feel in my hands. The way they taste."

His hand left your ass and hooked under the hem of your shirt, tugging it up just enough to bare your stomach. Then he dropped to his knees in front of you, big and broad and still in the suit, and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your navel. Another just above the waistband of your jeans. His tongue traced a slow line across your skin, and your muscled tightened under this attention. 

"But then I remembered," he murmured, mouth moving lower, "I didn’t get to kiss you here yesterday."

Another kiss, lower.

"Or here."

His teeth scraped lightly over your hip bone, just enough to make you shiver hard against the wall.

He was everywhere at once, a superhuman blur of need. One second he was on his knees with his mouth on your stomach, and the next he was up again, one hand at your jaw, the other at your waist, dragging your mouth to his in a deep, consuming kiss that stole the breath right out of you. It was heat and tongue and the wet sound of your moans swallowed between his lips, all urgency, and when his hands found your ass again he lifted you easily, allowing your legs to wrap around his waist on instinct.

He carried you quietly down the hall to his old bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

The door to his old bedroom barely made a sound. Then he was lowering you onto the quilt-covered bed, following you down, his body a heavy, welcome weight. The red chest pressed against your damp shirt. He rolled his hips once, grinding the thick length of him right where you needed him through too many layers of fabric, tearing a ragged moan out of you.

"Fuck–"

"I know," he mumbled against your mouth, breath hot and uneven. "I know, sweetheart. Let me—"

He shifted, and whatever steadiness he’d had a minute ago was gone. His hands turned frantic at your waist, fumbling at the waistband of your shorts, dragging them down your hips and thighs just far enough to get what he wanted. He didn’t even bother taking them off. He just shoved them down and out of the way, your jeans catching around your calves, and then his fingers hooked into the sides of your panties.

With a soft rip of fabric, he tears them right off you. 

"Clark!" you hissed, half scandalized, half breathless, but the rest dissolved into a gasp when his fingers found you, sliding through your folds with a slick, filthy sound that made heat flash up your neck.

"Clark what?" he breathed, and the smugness was back, threaded through all that hunger as he watched his own hand move between your thighs. His fingertips circled your clit once, twice, slow enough to make you twitch, before he pushed two fingers deep inside you in one smooth thrust.

Your back bowed off the bed immediately.

"Something the matter?"

"You—ah— you know what," you panted, hips rocking up to meet the rhythm of his hand anyway, chasing the stretch, the friction, the pressure that had your thighs already trying to close around his wrist.

"Do I?" He tilted his head, mock innocence gone syrup-sweet in his mouth.

His thumb pressed down on your clit and began those tight, deliberate circles, and when he curled his fingers inside you to stroke that sensitive spongy spot that made your eyes roll back and see stars, your hands fisted in the quilt, and your legs trembled faster than a rabbit’s.

"I’m being unfair, aren’t I?" he murmured casually, like this was a mundane conversation and not him ruining your ability to think. "I’m neglecting… so, so much."

With a wet, sucking sound, he pulls his fingers from your cunt. Before you can protest, he’s moving down your body. He pushes your ruined panties aside, your jeans still tangled around your calves, your shirt still bunched up under your breasts. You’re half-dressed, completely open to him, his wife spread out on his childhood bed with your legs shaking and your skin hot and your cunt aching where his hand had been.

He doesn’t hesitate.

He buries his face between your legs.

The first flat stroke of his tongue was a lightning bolt. It was broad and hot and perfect, laving from your stretched entrance all the way up to your sensitive clit. You cried out, grab for him, both hands in his hair, fingers tightening in the dark curls. He groaned against you, and the vibration went through your whole body, deep enough to make your hips jerk and your thighs clamp around his shoulders.

Then he feasted.

His mouth was relentless, all appetite and devotion. He licked into you with long, languid strokes that made your thighs shake, then switched without warning to quick, precise flicks over your clit, sharp and pinpoint and mean in the way he only got when he was paying very close attention. He drew the sensitive nub into his mouth and sucked gently, worrying it between his lips just long enough to make your breath hitch, then soothed it with slow, circling laps like he was apologizing for how good he was at this. He drank from you, tongue delving deep, and the room filled with the wet, shameless sounds of him taking his time with your body.

"Good fucking God—" you dragged out with a long, shaky sigh. "R-right there, fuck…"

"Mmm," he hummed against you, and the vibration hit your clit so directly it made your whole body jerk.

His hands slid under your ass and lifted, tilting your hips up into his mouth, opening you wider for him. His thumbs spread you apart while he worked, greedy and focused, and then he fucked you with his tongue. Alternating shallow and fast, then deep and slow, changing rhythm to mimic what he was aching to do with his cock for the last thirty-something hours.

Your orgasm built hard and fast, a tight, coiling spring low in your belly. Your heels dug into the quilt. Your back arched. One hand flew to your mouth because you were in his parents’ house and some reflex still clung to you even now, even with him between your legs like this.

"I’m-ah!-gonna—Oh, shit C-Clark, I’m gonna come— right now, right now, shit, faster!"

He doubled down immediately.

His tongue became wickedly precise, all clever speed and pressure, focused on your clit like nothing else in the world existed. He sucked hard, then flicked, then sucked again, nose pressed into you, breath hot and uneven. The scratch of his stubble burned sweet against your inner thighs. His hands held you up so firmly it was almost too much, almost unbearable, and underneath it all he kept making those low, incoherent little sounds into your cunt—pleading, hungry, praising—like he’d come home from saving the world and this was the only thing he wanted as his reward.

The orgasm hit all at once.

It crashed through you in a bright, blinding wave, your body seizing around it, your cries muffled behind your clammy hand as your cunt clenched on nothing and pulsed hard.

He stayed with you through every second of it, easing his tongue into softer, gentler strokes as you shook, lapping through the aftershocks and drinking down everything you gave him.

By the time the trembling started to ebb, your legs felt useless.

Clark lifted his head slowly. His chin was wet. His mouth was swollen. He looked wrecked and pleased with himself in equal measure, like he knew exactly what he’d done to you and intended to do worse.

Then he crawled back up your body, broad and warm and heavy, settling over you again, and kissed you open-mouthed before you could even catch your breath. He let you taste yourself on his tongue, the kiss deep and slow this time, savoring.

"Gosh, your pretty mouth, too," he whispered against your lips, smiling. "I love how it tastes after I’ve been on you."

You couldn’t do anything but whimper. Boneless. Hot all over. Still twitching.

But he wasn’t done. Of course, he wasn’t.

His large, calloused hands were already moving again, roaming your body.  One big hand palmed your breast through your shirt, finding your nipple through the damp cotton and pinching it between thumb and forefinger, rolling and tugging until the sensation went sharp and bright and made you gasp into his mouth. It mixed with the lingering throb between your legs, the aftershocks still sparking every time he shifted over you.

He broke the kiss and looked down at you, at your wrinkled and damp shirt, your shorts shoved almost to your ankles, your body still heaving under his.

"Oh no," he breathed.

You blinked up at him, dazed. "W-what?"

"I’d been negligent." The words came out with genuine distress. "A complete failure."

You stared at him, frowning, still trying to catch up. "What are you talking about?"

"Your ass," he clarified, as if stating a profound and tragic oversight. "We’ve been at it for… how long? Twenty minutes? And I haven’t given your perfect, incredible ass proper attention. It’s probably feeling abandoned. Unappreciated."

A snort burst out of you before you could stop it. "No, it’s okay. It’s managing just fine."

"Unacceptable."

The word had barely left his mouth before he moved.

He turned you over with effortless strength, smooth and quick, and by the time your brain caught up you were on your stomach, cheek pressed to the quilt, your ass tipped up in the air for him. He knelt behind you in the mattress dip, hands spreading your cheeks apart, and the cool room air hit your wet, swollen folds hard enough to make you clench.

"So beautiful," he whispered. 

Then he bent and kissed you there, open-mouthed and hot, right on your center, his tongue swiping through your slickness from behind. You moaned helplessly into the quilt, pushing back against his face. He did it again, and again, eating you out from this new, deeper angle, his tongue spearing inside you. One hand remained on the curve of your ass, kneading the flesh, while the other slid around your hip to find your clit again.

"Isn’t that better?"

The combination nearly undid you on the spot. You were still sensitive from your first climax, and now every touch amplified, electric.

Clark scissored two fingers inside you, curled them, while his thumb rubbed tight, urgent circles on your clit. Then his mouth left your center and moved to your ass, biting the rounded flesh in soft, possessive little nips before soothing each one with his tongue.

"Baby, please—" you pleaded, back arching deeper. "I can’t— it’s too much—I need—"

"I know, I know," he murmured, mouth warm against your skin, the words half swallowed by your body. "You were doing so good for me. Just wanted to take my time with you, sweetheart."

He shifted behind you, and you heard the distinct shhhk of a zipper and fabric being shoved. The sound sent a fresh flood of heat and slick between your legs.

You could hear the rough drag of his hand as he fisted his cock, giving himself a few rough strokes. You felt the broad, slick head of him nudging against your entrance, still stretched and wet from his mouth and his fingers.

He didn’t push in yet. 

He held it there, the thick tip parting your folds, the sheer size of him a delicious promise. He leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, mouth pressing kisses along your shoulder, your neck, temple. One hand still splayed across your ass, lightly gripping every few kisses.

"Hon, I need to be inside you," he whispered. "Right now. Just like this, with you on your knees." 

He kissed just behind your ear, breathing hard, and you felt the way he held himself back for the space of a second.

"I might be a little rough with you like this," he admitted, low and honest, one hand smoothing down your hip before tightening again. "I don’t want to be, but I might." His mouth brushed your skin. "Can you take it for me? Do you want—?"

"Yes," you said immediately, the answer tearing out of you before he’d even finished. You pushed back against him, needy and shameless, trying to take more of him at your entrance. "Yes! Please. I want it. I want you like this, now hurry up!"

He let out a sound that was a mix between a groan and a laugh.

"O-okay," he murmured against your shoulder, kissing one more time. "That’s my girl. I got you."

The first push inside was slow and steady, and even with all your slickness, even with how open he’d prepared you, the stretch still stole the air from your lungs.

He was too big to take any other way. It was immense, almost sharp for a second, your body pulling tight around him before it gave, before the ache melted into that dizzy, overwhelming fullness that only he could give you. 

He kept going, breathing hard against your shoulder, one hand firm on your ass, and the other smoothing your side tenderly as he filled you. By the time his hips were finally flush with your ass, by the time he was buried all the way inside you, both of you were shaking and groaning.

"O-oh, geez," he panted, his forehead dropping between your shoulder blades, causing you to arch your back at a steeper angle. "Sh–Gosh, you feel… sweetheart, you’re everywhere. You’re squeezing me so tight—"

He didn’t move right away. He just stayed there and let you feel it with him, the tight, skin-hot fit of him, the way your body clenched and fluttered around every pulse of his cock, the way your breath came in little broken pulls into the quilt. His mouth found your shoulder. He kissed you there, open and wet, then your spine, then the back of your neck, like he couldn’t decide what part of you he needed first.

"That’s it," he murmured, voice low and strained. "Take your time. You’ve got me."

Naturally, you started rutting against him, small, quiet pleas of ‘move’ and ‘keep going’ puffing out of your lips. Clark drew back, almost all the way out, and thrust back in hard.

The force of it shoved you up the bed, a choked cry punching out of you before you could bite it back, brace on your forearms, and whatever was left of his restraint disappeared with the sound.

Clark set a brutal, pounding rhythm immediately, no warm-up, no gentle build. This was reunion and hunger and thirty-six hours of wanting you packed into every thrust. Every thrust was a deep, driving piston stroke that jarred your entire body, that hit your cervix and made you see stars.

The wet, rhythmic slap of his skin against yours, the squelching sound of your copious wetness, the creak of the bedsprings—it was a symphony of filth.

"This," he grunts, his hand coming down on one ass cheek in a light smack. Not enough to sting, but enough to feel the contact. "I love it. I missed it."

Another thrust. A grope. A sharp whimper from you.

"I missed your hips," he went on, words breaking up with the rhythm. "Missed your thighs. Missed your stomach. Missed these pretty breasts—"

He leaned over you, his red cape sliding to one side and covering you like a blanket. One arm braced just next to yours while his free hand slipped under you to your chest, finding your nipple through the damp cotton and pinching it, rolling it carefully between his fingers until you sobbed and clenched around him hard.

"T-there," he groaned, hips stuttering once before he found the pace again. "There she is. I love all of you. Missed all of you. Every part."

His hand came back to your ass, spreading, squeezing, holding the plush flesh.

"My beautiful girl," he moaned, mouth at your ear, all heat and devotion and need. "My God. I thought about having you like this the whole time. Thought about being inside you. Thought about how you feel when you take me." A hard thrust, deep enough to make your fingers claw the quilt. "My wife. My beautiful wife."

The words unraveled you faster than the rhythm already was. You were babbling before you could help it, his name and yes and please-please-please all blurring together, your body rocking back to meet him even when it made the next thrust hit harder.

The second orgasm was already building, tighter than the first, sharpened by the rough drag of him, the sting in your skin, his hand on your breast, his mouth on your neck, the way he sounded half gone and completely in love.

"Baby— God, C-Clark—I'm close!"

"I k-know," he breathed, and kissed your shoulder again, then bit gently, then soothed it with his mouth. "I know, hon."

His hand slid up into your hair and he guided your head just enough to kiss you on the lips. He kept thrusting, harder now, deeper, his control falling apart right in front of you.

"I’m gonna...." he ground out, warning. "I’m gonna fill you up, hon." His hand tightened on your hip. "Do you want it? Tell me you want it."

"Yes," you sobbed, already shaking on the edge. "Yes, God, yes— inside, Clark, please—"

The permission snapped his control. He whimpered into your shoulder, half groan, half swallowed cut-off curse, and drove into you one more time.

The first burst hit hard and hot, deep inside, and your whole body jerked with the force of it. Then another followed, and another, his hips flush against your ass as his cock pulsed inside your cunt, each release thick and heavy. He kept holding you open and close at the same time, one hand spread over your hip, shaking through his climax.

"O-oohh, sweetheart—" he panted. "So good. So good, I love you—"

His unadulterated bliss triggered your orgasm, tearing through in a hard, shuddering rush. Your cunt convulsed around him, clenching down in sharp pulses that dragged another low groan out of him and wrung a few more hot, weaker spurts from him while he was still buried to the hilt.

Your legs shook so badly the mattress creaked under both of you. You could feel warmth spilling out around him, sticky down your inner thighs, the two of you making a complete mess of the quilt and the clothes still tangled around your legs.

By the time the last pulse left him, he was breathing like he’d flown across the entire galaxy.

He collapsed over you carefully, still covering you with his body even while trying not to crush you, his cock staying deep inside, thick and hot, and you both just lay there for a long moment listening to each other breathe.

Your shirt was still bunched under your breasts. His suit was damp and wrinkled and definitely ruined in at least three places. The bed was in terrible shape, something that had to be managed before Ma woke up.

You could feel the heavy, leaking fullness between your legs every time either of you moved.

Eventually, Clark kissed the back of your shoulder, then your neck, then rested his cheek there.

"So," he said after a long, contented silence. "I think…I think I covered everything. Nothing neglected, right?"

"Not at all," you laughed, a tired, happy, sated sound. "You can never decide, can you?"

"An impossible choice," he agreed immediately, his hands stroking your sweaty back and side. "It’s like asking me to pick between Ma’s apple pie and her peach cobbler."  He kissed your shoulder again. "Both are… transcendent. Vital. Everything about you is."

You laughed into the quilt, fingers lazily toying with his red cape enveloping half your body.

"You’re a greedy, messy, indecisive man, you know that?"

"Yes, I’m a greedy, messy, indecisive man," he kissed the top of your head, words completely lovesick, lovestuck, whatever you wanted to call it. "But I'm yours."

He kissed the top of your shoulder, then your lips, lingering there.

"And later," he added, already sounding excited. "After we clean up, I’m sleeping with my head inside your shirt. I’ve decided. Non-negotiable. Think I’ve earned it."

.

Thank you for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs especially are forever appreciated. Keeps me motivated!

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Tags: @sphynxx @untilmynextstory @sevinaqia @animegamerfox @dreaming-starlet @nnab @catsdenia @friedunknownphantom @garfieldhollander @hallow-blue @httpstoyosi @yeontanssecretblog @kristine13 @alexandritte80 @may-machin @snowsgames @alanahlovesryan @athenxt @nobeautywithoutstrangeness @wtfrudoinhere @thel0v3hashira143 @vanillapjm @doctorwhoandfairytaillover @marvel-hiddles-stark @foremma444 @yyiikes @kooquetre @niceforcum22 @tw1sters @54nboo @jordiemeow @strawbvrrystrgirl @pinksplace @zutara-s @ticklish-leafy-plant @crazycatchloe @isthisprada @clarknsun @blueki16 @rynwritesstuff @luvekent @lilypad-55449 @serenityrjd @stellarbstar @a-lumos-in-the-nox @thychuvaluswife @punkrockrr @sunlightkent

[deadpanjisung]

˖᯽ ݁˖ friends, lovers or nothing ˖᯽ ݁˖

pairing: idol!bangchan x hairstylist!reader

genre:  friends to lovers, smut!!!! (18+, MDNI)

cw: mentions of drinking/getting high, unpr0tected s3x, oral (m!rec), fingering, car s3x, semi-public s3x, cre4mpie (lmk if im missing any!)

wc: 3.1k

synopsis: many, conveniently, ‘forgotten’ kisses later, you and chris finally let yourselves ruin the friendship.

a/n: first repost of the year!!! i’m also editing them a lil bit as i read them back (:

“I can’t believe I  actually grew it out.” Chris said, examining his figure in the mirror in front of him. His hands played with his own hair, longer than anticipated. His hair grew without him noticing —most days he would have it up in a ponytail or covered by headwear of any sorts. 

“You’ll officially keep it long, then?” You asked, staring at your friend curiously as he tousled his hair. 

“What do you think? Should I?”

“I like it.” You answered, reaching to run your fingers through his new luscious locks. “It’s gotten healthier, too.”

“Really?” A rhetorical question. You removed your hand from his head as he ran his own fingers through his hair to validate your statement. “Hmm. I guess so.”

“I think you look great like this.” You stated, looking at him through the mirror. “I just cut the ends a bit. And, please, do not dye it for a while. I want to see if it can reach its full potential.” Chris scoffed at that comment, knowing well that he didn’t always have a say on whether or not he’d dye it for a comeback.

“I’ll try.”

“If they give you shit, send them to me. I can fight.” You joked. He chuckled.

“I’m probably a better shot than you, if we’re being honest.”

“I have shears, though. I’m basically Edward Scissorhands.” 

“Touché.”

“So, am I still invited to the release party on Friday?” You asked Chris, who was still styling his hair in front of the mirror. 

“Of course you are.” He replied. 

“Don’t you think it’s kind of… funny that you’re bringing your hairstylist as your plus one?” You asked. Chris placed his hands on each side of his hips and rolled his eyes at you.

“Did you forget the many years of friendship we’ve had?” He asked. “You’re not just my hairstylist. Plus, it’s great that we get to celebrate Itzy’s new EP here instead of being on tour or busy or whatever.”

“Okay, ‘m just making sure that you don’t regret it.”

“I won’t. Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Yeah.”

—

Chris was always busy, working on something… he never had time for leisure or for dates, visits to his family, long-term relationships, nothing like that. He barely made time to take care of his basic needs. He had been like that since you met him when you worked for JYPE. You started there as an intern and took a temporary position for a few months; which turned into a few years. It hadn’t been long since you opened your own salon. You were still familiar with the current talent. But you didn’t keep in contact with anyone except Chris and the occasional text or visit from Hyunjin or Jeongin, who asked for hair-related consultation.

It didn’t shock you too much when Chris sent an apology text that he’d been running late at the studio and that Jeongin would pick you up instead. You were slightly disappointed at Chris overworking himself (again!) but definitely not surprised. 

Jeongin picked you up earlier than you anticipated. 

“Hi noona. Have you been well?” He asked, as you sat down in his car, pulling down the mirror to continue doing your makeup.

“I have! How have you been?” 

“Tired. Hungry. Bloated. A little bit of everything.” He replied, a light blush appeared on his face. 

“Your hair looks cute like this.” You commented. Jeongin blushed.

“Thank you. I think I’m liking it natural for now.”

“Good, you should all stop bleaching it so often if you don’t want a baldracha before your military service.” You teased, he laughed. “Thanks for picking me up, by the way.” “You’re always welcome, noona.” 

Jeongin pulled up at the company’s venue and left his car in the valet parking. You, who had considered taking your own car and meeting Chris there, were endlessly thankful that you didn’t; just because you wouldn’t have to park. When you arrived at the venue, someone took your attendance as Chris’s plus one that instead arrived with Jeongin.

You greeted your past clients and coworkers with excited and emotional hugs; holding small talk with all of them, even with JYP himself. 

“Y/N!” Yeji almost screamed when she saw you, instantly taking you into her embrace. Jeongin congratulated her and squeezed your arm to let you know that he’d be with his members. “I’m so happy to  finally see you again!”

“You too! Congratulations on the album as well. I’ve been playing ever since it came out!” You said, she blushed at that.

“Where’s Chris? I thought you’d be coming with him… not Jeongin?” She asked. “Did you know that I asked him for your new address to send you an invite and he said that he’d be bringing you? Rude, right? I didn’t want you to think that we didn’t want you here!”

“I did not know that.” You chuckled, confused but, again, not too surprised. “I would never think that you didn’t want me here, though. I’d be salty if that were true.” She laughed. 

“Ah! I miss you, unnie.” She said. “My new stylist is great but I miss talking to you.”

“Feel free to text me whenever.” You offered. “Hyunjin and Jeongin text me, like, once a day to ask about shampoo and styling cream.” She giggled, still holding you in her embrace. You felt reminiscent; not missing the workplace environment in itself but you did miss your clients. Especially those with whom you had worked closely with, like Itzy and Stray Kids.

You turned around when you felt a hand on the small of your back. You smelled his perfume before actually seeing him. Looking back, Chris, Changbin and Jisung stood around you and Yeji. They expressed their commendations to Yeji before shifting their attention to you. Yeji thanked them and gave you one last squeeze before leaving you. 

“Noona!” Jisung sang as he gave you a hug. Changbin followed suit. 

It had been months since you had last seen them. They both looked (and felt) more muscular. You almost blushed at their embraces. Then you turned your attention to Chris frowning at him. Jisung and Changbin waved at you, leaving you alone with Chris; catching the vibe around you two.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry!” He said, before you could speak up. You deadpanned. “I couldn’t leave just yet! I was going to let you know with a bit more time but Jeongin offered to pick you up.” You just stared at him, slowly blinking. “Will you keep guilt-tripping me or are you going to enjoy this? I could’ve brought my sister.”

“I don’t know. A certain member of Itzy told me that I was invited anyways, so you could’ve brought your sister instead.” You smirked, Chris’s face turned crimson immediately. “So yeah. I could’ve been here on my own accord!” 

“Okay, you got me there. I wanted to pick you up because I have something that I wanted to show you…” He muttered. “But whatever, it’ll be too late to go now. I wasn’t even supposed to go to work today. You can blame Jisung for that.” You rolled your eyes.

“Or you could’ve been honest and invited me out independently.” You countered, making him blush again. 

“I didn’t think you’d want to hang out with me if you saw me last week.”

“Chris, I love hanging out with you. You don’t really need an excuse for that.” You added, softly, taking a hold of his arm. “Let’s go. Your sons look so lost and miserable without you. They work with everyone here, why are they standing in the corner huddling like penguins?” Chris laughed.

“I promise it won’t happen again.” He said, you deadpanned once again. “Okay, I’ll let you know with anticipation, if it’s going to happen.” You stared at him. “I won’t lie about your invitation to events.” You said nothing, he sighed. “And, I’ll give Yeji your address…”

“Apology accepted! Let’s get shitfaced!”

You excitedly greeted Felix, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Minho. You had seen more of Jeongin and Hyunjin as they visited you at the salon sometimes. And you did know what Jisung and Changbin were generally up to because they were always working at the studio with Chris. But the other members and their current personal endeavors were a mystery to you. You listened as Felix talked about how their tour would start soon. Seungmin was working on way too many OSTs for dramas. Jisung had been writing song for a new group. Changbin started playing golf. Minho told you about his latest fishing trip and how it ended early because Jisung couldn’t handle living without air-conditioning. 

You, admittedly, didn’t pay too much attention to their conversations. You couldn’t focus when with every passing drink, Chris’s arm shifted a little lower on your body. It started with his arm around your shoulders, then on your upper back, lowered down to your waist and now his arm was draped lazily around your hips. It almost seemed unintentional. 

You could feel the heat of his body next to yours. His hold on you nearly seemed… possessive. As if he wanted to let everyone know that you were there with him. Him… not anyone else, despite being surrounded by men and arriving with a different guy. A few drinks in and the alcohol’s buzz made you feel like dancing. You were taken by surprise when Hyunjin asked you to dance with him, even with Chris’s grip on you. 

You agreed. 

You couldn’t remember which track was playing, you just knew that dancing was top priority. Especially when you had Hyunjin, an acclaimed dancer, on your arm. His hands found their way to yours, interlocking your fingers. He twirled you around, laughing at the childish dance for a not-so-childish song. You didn’t care and neither did he or anyone else. Instead, people joined you and Hyunjin; always a natural trendsetter. The song changed to a slower beat, a deeper tone.

Suddenly, you felt the same warm arm around you, dragging your attention away from Hyunjin who kept dancing alone. Chris’s strong hands held your waist, pulling you closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck. You were so close that his drunken breath ghosted against your. Your heart nearly skipped beats due to the close proximity between you. You swung your hips lazily to the song, not being able to register anything aside from Chris. 

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He said in a low, deep voice. “I would’ve loved to have brought you here. For everyone to see us… getting here… together. Y’know, the way it should’ve happened.”

“Chris.” You warned him, knowing that he could regret saying something stupid. 

“I know…” He paused. “but I don’t care.”

“You’re drunk.” 

“I’m tipsy at most, not even that.” He countered. “I meant what I said. I wish we had come together. I should have risked it all.”

“Why don’t you, then?” You teased, he blinked at you in disbelief. You weren’t sure if he was bluffing or not. “…risk it all.” Chris clenched his jaw. 

“Babe, you’re joking, right?” He asked less dazed, more serious, “don’t play me like that.” You nodded in response, inching closer to his ear and whispered.

“I’d risk it all… if it’s for you.”

Chris took no time in grabbing your arm, pulling you away from your dancing friends, who stared at you confounded —not that you noticed or even cared about that. Not when Chris seemed so desperate. 

You had blurred the lines of your friendship many times… a drunk confession here, a stoned kiss there. But, you weren’t sure where Chris actually stood in terms of you —not until Yeji said that he was adamant about you being his plus one… or him wanting to arrive with you on his arm. And you would risk it all for him. That was the truth of the matter, you hoped that he’d mean those words as well; that it wasn’t just another tipsy confession that would be ignored the next day. 

You said a very, very quick and superficial goodbye to the members of Itzy and the Chris’s members who weren’t on the dance floor/ You were still held onto by Chris’s grasp… on your hand now. Using the excuse that you were tipsy and not feeling well. Which was a blatant lie, you felt sober once Chris’s hands were on your body. By the looks of it…  and the intentionality of his actions, he wasn’t even tipsy either. 

He didn’t say anything to you, you arrived at the parking lot. Chris never cared for valet parking, instead he searched for his car , parked in a dark corner of the lot, and unlocked it with his beeper. Your heart raced when he opened the passenger door for you. Once inside, he slammed his lips on yours… not giving you or himself no time to regret it. This kiss was different from the others. It felt hungry and real. It felt like a kiss you weren’t going to conveniently forget the next morning. His lips tasted faintly like lychee soju and neat whiskey, yours were locked on his… your lipstick transferring to a smudge on his face. His hands were on your face and yours tangled in his luscious locks. 

You kissed him hard and slow and sexy for that seemed like an eternity. The familiar warmth of his hands roamed your entire body as the kiss grew needier and hungrier with each passing moment. And you couldn’t help but focus on the feeling of your arousal soaking your panties. Especially when one of Chris’s hands had been sitting on your inner thigh, grabbing at it, inching closer to your center.

“Fuck, Y/N..” Chris moaned out, breaking the kiss. “Want to get out of here?”

“We could…or…we could take it to the backseat?” You offered. Chris nodded frantically. You crawled from the passenger seat to the backseat as Chris placed the sunshade on his windshield for a better —false sense of privacy. You started undressing, desperate to finally feel Chris’s body on yours. You took off your heels, then your panties. Then, Chris joined you in the back, desperately attempting to take his shirt off, discarding it in the front seat.

“C’mon, baby.” Chris said, patting his lap for you to straddle him.

His black slacks did miracles to conceal his growing bulge because you didn’t notice it until you were sitting on top of it. You could feel his sharp erection poke at your entrance through the flimsy fabric of your underwear. The unexpected friction made you let out an involuntary moan. Chris’s hands found your hips, helping you grind against him until it became too much. His head was thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted in such a delicious manner that you would’ve loved to take a picture. To save that moment forever in a physical sense. You halted your movements, lowering yourself onto your knees in the small space between the back and front seat. Chris looked at you, confused. 

Your hands found the button of Chris’s pants, he looked at you with dazed stars in his eyes and helped you lower down his pants and underwear. His cock sprung up, girthy and hard against his stomach. You wasted no time in taking him into his mouth. Chris’s hands wasted no time in tangling his hands into your hair, which, in return, made you moan. 

“Baby, that feels…heavenly.” He groaned as he accidentally bucked his hips upwards. Your nose met the coarse hair on his pubic bone. His hands pushed your head, making you deepthroat him further. “Sorry, baby. S-sorry. It just feels so good.” He released his grip on your hair, but you kept him deep in your mouth. Chris moaned at that feeling. “Shit, baby. I’m going to cum if you don’t…”

You released his cock with a pop of your mouth. Your saliva coating his dick, pubes and the corners of your mouth. 

“Come ride me, baby.” He said, breathless but grinning with satisfaction. 

You were now bare in front of him, teasing his erection with your folds, grinding against it. He threw his head back every time his tip prodded your entrance. Then, you took him in… all at once. It was painfully pleasurable. But you still made a mental note to not take him without prep again. 

The stretch was still delicious. Chris took his time in adjusting to the feeling of your walls clenching around him. But, you were desperate. His hands tried to ground you on his dick, you started moving. Chris moaned at your unexpectedly fast pace. His tip kissed the deepest crevices of your cervix as his hands caressed your ass. They groped and grabbed at it every time you moved on his dick. 

His hand snaked between your bodies to find your clit, rubbing sultry circles around it. The pleasure made you feel surprisingly on edge. 

You kept bouncing on Chris’s dick, desperate for release… more specifically, his release inside of you. You didn’t have to say that you wanted it. Chris knew. 

“You want me to cum, baby?” He asked, breathless. You nodded frantically, speeding your movements. Chris thrusted upwards, meeting you in the middle. Until he pumped you full of him with a curse; warm, deep and delicious cum flooded your insides.

Chris slipped out of you after he caught his breath. He asked you to sit down where he was sitting just moments before. He observed his cum dripping out of you, licking his lips. Ultimately deciding to use his fingers to bring you to your release. Two fingers on one hand worked on pushing his release deeper into your counter, while the fingers on his other hand rubbed wet circles on your clit. The sight itself could make you cum if you weren’t already about to. Your climax found you quickly, you saw white stars everywhere as you clenched around his fingers; helping his cum reach deeper than he ever thought it would. Chris pressed a kiss to your soaked cunt and slid your panties on.

“Not that I care if you drip on my car…” He justified. “I just like seeing you full…” He chuckled lightly, un-seriously. Chris leaned to kiss you in a reassuring way.

“So what are we now?” You teased. “Friends, lovers or nothing?”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to go back to being friends.” He replied, chest rising up and down. “And I could never bear to be ‘nothing’ to you.”

“So, lovers it is?”

“If you want to, of course.”

You do. 

Of course.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

© deadpanjisung || reposting, translating, modifying or plagiarizing is strictly prohibited

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

taglist: @inaribu00 @luvvvivi @kiwiinx @you-dont-know-my-name @kissesmellow21 @lveegsoi @kaiyaba @ivaviavi @nvuueas

[oneglass-zinfandel]

hi can y do oral links please?😭

Oral links

A/N : These are some oral links, non specific to any characters but I'll tag my usual munches in the tags 😋

TW : Oral (duh)

Most don't show the guy's face so imagine who ever you want <3

Short kisses

Oral 1

Cute strawberry Dip image

Kisses and licks

4 oral videos

Oral 2

Oral 3

Soft licks

These are all from my personal saved, low-key keep rewatching them.

[novthewolf]

Kinktober 2025 - Day twenty two : Quiet sex, George Weasley

⋆｡° George needs you badly, now °｡⋆

Warnings : fem!reader, not-that-experienced!George, people in the next room, p in v, protected sex, doggystyle, fingering, it's not october anymore but idc, not my best work, english isn't my first language.

*-*-*

What happens when you give two young adults even a little minute alone ?

Well, the answer could be heard through the thin walls of George's childhood bedroom. George had you pressed down on the bed, chest rubbing against the soft sheets as he held your hips firmly, guiding the pace as he wished. The door was locked but in hurry you didn't think of on putting a silencing spell. He kept his thrusts slow and deep, not wanting his dear family to hear the obscene wet sounds of your drenched pussy or the way the skin of your ass echoed with each move.

It was hard to keep it down, neither of you ahd much experience and every new sensations and discoveries drew deep satisfied moans and high pitch whines. But you two wanted each other so bad, it was so unfair you weren't home right now. But to hell with risk, especially after George had pinned you to door and his fingers dragged dragged through your drenched folds.

"Shh... shh—god." His breath hitched as his cock reached deeper inside, grazing your sweet, gummy spot. You clenched around him and closed your eyes at the pleasure. If it wasn't for his hand over your mouth, moans would be spilling right out of your lips.

He kept rocking against you slowly, dragging out the pleasure as much as he could. But even though he had built up his stamina quite well, it was still hard for him to keep his eagerness down. His cock wouldn't stop oozing pre-cum into the condom, red and swollen with the painful need to come.

But god, George didn't want your squeaky, muffled sounds to stop. No, he wanted—needed—you to finish on his cock. So he didn't increase the speed; instead, he pulled out almost entirely. Only the mushroom head remained between your folds before surging back inside.

You moaned into his hand, the force of his thrust like nothing you had ever felt before. It made your back arch, your soft butt resting against his pelvis. Though George didn't let you squirm around. His left hand grabbed onto your hip, and he used his strength to keep you still as he started pounding into you. You turned your head the best you could to watch him, his jaw tight as he grunted and groaned at each stroke.

Both of you were starting to lose yourselves, just barely able to keep your noises at a minimum level. George was going mad with your noises, but he needed to hear them better. He lay on top of you suddenly, pinning you down to the bed, arm circled around your waist, keeping you as close as humanly possible. You felt his breath behind your ear as you whimpered higher and higher. The more he heard, the crazier he felt, like he couldn't stop his hips from rutting against yours.

The knot in your belly felt incredibly tight as you were approaching your release, your gummy pulsating around his angry cock. He let out the lewdest, yet quietest moan into your ear, but it made your heart beat even faster.

"I'm close, I'm close... please, love, please…" He whimpered, needing you to cum with him while keeping a vice-like grip on you.

The boards of the hallway creaked as someone passed in front of the door, so incredibly near. The thrill of being caught, of being seen in such a primal, intense way, sent you over the edge, spasming and damn right milking your lover's member dry.

"Yes, yes, that's it—oh god !" George's hips stuttered, hot cum dripping in the condom. He couldn't help himself, not with the way your pussy choked his dick so deliciously.

He loosened his grip around you, just laying on top of you as you took your time to catch your breath. The room was filled with shallow pants and quiet whines. Slowly, he kissed your temple and looked down at your pretty face. You smiled softly before he gently pulled out, lying beside you. He grinned, happy like a puppy, proud that he was able to make you orgasm this way for the first time.

"Don't be too full of yourself, Weasley..." You chuckled, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest while he got rid of the condom. He smiled and hugged you closer, pulling the blanket on top of you.

"Can't promise anything, love." He smirked but kissed your forehead. You knew you could trust George. You always could.

*-*-*

[deepsummitfate-deactivated20260]

omg bakugo railing reader in her childhood room when her aizawa, her dad, is right next door 👅

okay okay wait I feel the vision coming to me.... ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

a little light peaks through your bedroom door showing the signs of life of your father behind it.

you and your boyfriend, katsuki bakugo, decided to pay your dear old dad a visit. much to his surprise he was NOT happy to see that one of his old students was dating his precious angel. little did your father know you weren't such a precious angel after all.

at the moment katsukis hand is clamped over your mouth to stop your sounds from making it under your bedroom door, as little creaks and rattles from the tiny double bed echo quietly throughout the room.

katsuki, who is trying his hardest to not pound into like an animal in heat is struggling so hard with the fact you two need to keep quiet. "fuck- 'm sure ya old man couldn't hear us if we were a bit louder, sweets."

his thick cock slowly moving in and out of your sweet pussy, hitting that spongy spot everytime as you shake your head while holding back a moan that is bubbling in the back of your throat.

"'suki, hnnghh- can't. we can't be l-loud.. haaah.." you throw your head back on the bright pink pillows of your old bed as katsuki continues to hold himself up over top of you. he brings his hand to clamp your mouth shut once again while he repositions himself to make it feel as if he's deeper then he already is.

that causes you to let out a high pitch moan which almost makes it past the hand of your boyfriends. until you both hear it. the creaks of someone walking on old floorboards heading towards your room. in an instant, katsuki pulls out with a hiss and a whine from you as he flops back on the bed behind you.

you two are both stunned before aizawa knocks on your door. "heya sweetie. are you two alright in there?" there's a moment of silence between you and katsuki before you reply. "yea dad! just... katsuki was tickling me! that's all! sorry for the commotion!" you hear aizawa grunt in approval before he walks away and shuts off the hallway light.

when katsuki sees the light go out, he immediately shoves himself back into you from behind and starts fucking himself into you once again. his hand snakes around your head to clamp back over your mouth again as he thrusts into you with so much more power then before.

"s-shit, was 'bouta cum before ya old man came... he's always been fuck- a nosy bastard..." katsuki groans as he throws his head in your shoulder, his other hand reaching up your shirt to toy at your nipple.

your whimpers and moans become more repetitive the closer you are to cumming, you feel the coil in your lower tummy growing with each thrust of your boyfriends.

"k-kat.. hngh- baby, 'm gonna cum!! p-please don't stop i-" you let out a loud moan against his hand as you throw your head back into his shoulder while his hips stutter. "g-gonna cum in ya. h-holy shit- you feel so good... gonna take it all."

there's a shift in his breath as he lets out a breathy moan while he cums inside of you. his hand lets go of the grip on your mouth as his hips buck into the fat of your ass. you're able to feel each rope of hot sticky cum slowly pour into you while you whine.

after your breathing settles down, katsuki is still slumped against your shoulder. you nudge it a little bit before he groans and pulls himself out of you. you're able to feel his cum leaking out of you and onto the bedsheets.

"you're cleaning these sheets tomorrow, kats."

"yes fine woman, I know."

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖ WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK (is it appropriate to do that?)

[multi-fandom-imagine]

The Perfume Incident || Bill Weasley ||

A/n: Here is that smut I promised for Bill Weasley 👏. I love all the Weasley boys.

You only meant to try it.

A tiny glass vial Fleur left for you on the vanity.

A gift, she said. “One dab,” she teased. “Bill will adore it.” And then she left with a knowing smile and a wink.

You thought she meant he’d politely compliment you, state he enjoy's the smell.

You did not expect what was going to happen next, the moment your husband smelled you.

With a hum, you dab the perfume on your wrists and neck, then head into the Burrow’s kitchen to finish prepping dinner.

Light.

Sweet.

Warm like honey.

You barely smell it.

But when Bill walks through the doorway, he stops like he hit an invisible barrier.

Freezes.

His chest rises sharply.

His pupils blow wide—dark blue swallowed by black.

He goes absolutely, terrifyingly still.

And then

“Sweet Merlin,” he whispers, voice wrecked, “what are you wearing?”

You blink. “I—uh—Fleur gave me this perfume—”

Bill is on you before you finish the sentence.

His hands grip your waist.Your back hits the kitchen wall.

Hard.

You gasp, and he groans at the sound, fingers gripping your hips tightly.

He buries his face in your neck, inhaling deep, shaking with the force of it.“Oh… fuck.”

Your knees go weak.“Bill—?” A whimper left your lips.

He shoves your thigh up around his hip, grinding into you reflexively.

He’s already hard.

Painfully.

“This...perfume—” His voice breaks. “You have no idea what it’s doing to me.”

His breath is hot against your skin, his nose tracing your pulse as he inhales you again—slow, hungry, reverent.

He shudders.

“I smelt good things before but this perfume on you sweetheart, it’s amplified. It’s...bloody hell—”

He kisses your neck wet, open-mouthed, desperate as his teeth graze the nape of your neck.

Your head thumps back against the wall.“Bill—someone could walk in—”

“No one is walking anywhere,” he growls, pinning both your wrists above your head with one hand as his thumb ran across your lower lip.“You smell like… everything I’ve ever wanted.”

Your thighs clench.

He notices instantly.“Oh, sweetheart.” A wicked grin curves his lips. “You’re feeling it too, aren’t you?”

Your breath shakes. “I....maybe a little—”

He presses his thigh between yours.

You gasp.

He exhales like he’s been punched.“Don’t make that sound,” he whispers dangerously.“I’ll lose whatever restraint I have left.”

Your heart slams at the tone because Bill has always been gentle, steady, warm.But this, this shows that Bill is starving.

You swallow. “Then lose it.”

The growl he lets out is feral.

Before you can breathe, he grabs your hips and lifts you, sliding you up the wall effortlessly, the strength in his arms making your stomach twist with heat.

You wrap your legs around him automatically.His lips crash into yours.

Hot.

Messy.

Perfect.

He kisses like he’s drowning and you’re air.He groans deep in his chest when your tongue meets his.His hands move urgent, frantic and down your waist, your hips, your thighs.

He grips your ass with both hands and pulls you tighter against him, grinding his erection right against your heat.

You cry out.

His forehead drops to your shoulder as he swears softly, raw desire tearing through every syllable.

“You’re soaked,” he pants, rocking into you. “Fuck—just from a little perfume—are you trying to kill me?”

His fingers slip beneath the hem of your skirt and finds your underwear then slides them beneath it.

He nearly chokes when he feels you.“Sweetheart… you’re dripping.”

Your hips jerk into his hand.

He drags his fingers through your slick, slow and deliberate.

“Gods,” he whispers, voice trembling, “I want you so badly it hurts.”

He pushes two fingers inside you as you gasp loudly too loudly.

He slams his other hand over your mouth.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, fucking you with his fingers in slow, dirty curls. “Do you want all of the Burrow to hear you?”

You moan into his palm.

His eyes roll.

“You’re gonna make me come in my trousers if you keep doing that.”

You pull his hand away, breathless.“Then stop teasing.”

He freezes and stares at you.

Then in one swift motion, he yanks your underwear aside, unbuttons himself just enough, and lines himself up with shaking hands.

“Bill—!”

“I can’t wait,” he warns, voice shredded. “I’m sorry—I can’t—sweetheart, I need to be inside you now.”

He thrusts into you in one deep, devastating stroke.

Your breath shatters and so does his.

“Ohhh, fuck—”He buries his face in your neck, panting like he’s losing his mind. “You feel...so...perfect—”

He pulls out a little and thrusts again.Your nails dig into his shoulders.He growls, full, low, wolfish.

He pounds you against the wall, slow but deep, each thrust hitting right where you crumble.

Your body contracts around him, and his breath hitches.

“You’re close,” he whispers, dizzy with need. “I can feel it...come for me...right here...on me—sweetheart, please—”

You break.

Your orgasm hits hard, shaking you from head to toe, your cry muffled by his mouth crashing against yours.

He thrusts through your climax, groaning into your lips, pulse hammering against your chest.“Oh gods—sweetheart—”

He slams deep, holding you against him as he spills inside you with a sound that’s half-moan, half–desperate prayer.

He keeps you pinned to the wall as both of you shake, forehead pressed to yours, breathing each other in.

His voice is soft again now.Gentle.“I’m never letting Fleur give you perfume again.”

You laugh weakly.

He nuzzles your cheek. “But if you ever do want me to lose control like that—”his lips brush your ear, giving the nape of your neck a small nip.“tell me, and I’ll give you more than any perfume ever could.”

[crushmeeren]

⋆ ࣪ ౿ shouto todoroki and his endearing method of trying not to cum before you during sex. ⋆ ࣪ ౿

⟢ fem! reader and chatter about sex. ‹𝟹

m.list

Shouto bites his fingers when he’s holding off on cumming.

He has the upper hand when he’s got you on your back, knees to your ears, or when you’re face down ass up. Generally, he controls the pace. Allows himself the chance to slow down when he’s too close, pulls out to let his cock twitch eagerly between his legs a few times and get ahold of his orgasm.

The same can’t be said when you ride him.

His cock is so big in this position. Your palms stay braced on his muscled chest while he lounges against the pillows. Lifting your hips slowly, sitting down even slower, appreciating being stuffed full of Shouto.

There’s no change in speed. Just one smooth, steady rhythm. Fucking Shouto while he stares up at you with flushed cheeks and heavy lidded eyes, so very in love.

“Baby,” Shouto moans, drawing his legs up and planting his feet on the bed. He sighs, gently pushing his hips to meet you halfway each time. “I love this. Love when you ride me.”

You smile, lashes fluttering as his cock presses against your g-spot. “Yeah? Me too. You’re such a sweetheart, Sho.”

A soft, whiny moan falls from his mouth, goosebumps erupting along his chest and arms. One hand squeezes your waist and suddenly Shouto’s middle two fingers are slipping between his lips, teeth digging into his knuckles.

Your pussy squeezes tight at the sight and his eyes roll, the next moan muffled as steam curls out the sides of his mouth.

Sweet heat builds in your belly, pulling you closer and closer to the intense high you’re on the edge of. Shouto’s dick throbs. You circle your clit twice before there’s a rush of heat that stills you above his lap, Shouto thrusting upwards to fuck you through the pleasure.

Shouto uses both hands to lift you with urgency until he slips free, dick wetly slapping his belly, cumming in glossy threads up to his collarbone with a broken moan.

You collapse on your back beside him, melting in the afterglow.

“Haven’t seen you bite your fingers like that in awhile,” you tease, tilting your head to lock eyes.

“Yeah. Half the time it doesn’t work.”

“Why did it this time?”

“You weren’t going to give me a break, and I really wanted to feel you cum first.”

[minholuvr333]

keeping secrets

pairing: han jisung x reader (fem)

warnings: perv!jisung, edging, sexual activities (MDNI), no protection (b smart), dry humping, “just the tip” is a real sentence jisung says, creampie, dacryphilia, threat of getting caught

summary: chan is your big brother, jisung is his best friend. jisung is also the guy gooning over you every time he’s in your home.

han jisung is always in your fucking house.

does he even have parents? a bed of his own? you honestly aren’t sure. it’s not like you could ask if you wanted to, because even though han jisung is always in your fucking house- he’s also always with your older brother.

“y/n, did you eat the last of mom’s leftovers?”

“no.”

“are you lying?”

“she looks like she’s lying, hyung. looks guilty.”

you roll your eyes, feeling the weight of annoyance spiking at a level only your brother and his best friend could conjure in your soul as you glance sideways at them. if your popcorn would just turn a little faster in the microwave, you could escape them so much quicker.

han jisung is the type of person that makes you question how he got there in the first place. you don’t remember meeting him, don’t remember your first impression or the first conversation you had. it’s like he’s just always been there, attached to chan’s hip and eating all the snacks in your parents’ pantry. chan treats jisung like the brother he never had, and in return jisung treats you like he’s the second brother you never asked for.

it really irks you- how he is always in your space, long legs taking up all the room on the couch, loud laughter and clapping hands carrying from chan’s room to your own across the hall. chan is irritating at times, as any sibling is, but jisung is irritating in entirely different ways.

example one: chan had always been a year above you in school. you never got to introduce yourself to your teachers, because they already knew you as chan’s little sister. he was the football captain, and the class president, and participated in so many extracurricular activities you felt your own head grow heavy at the thought of his daily schedule. everyone knew him, and everyone knew jisung- because jisung was always beside him.

jisung was co-captain, he was vice president, he was in every single club chan was. they both swear they never planned it, the same way they never planned to make you the world’s most lonely teenager ever. because no high school boy wants to mess with chan’s little sister- and the ones that were brave enough to try, dealt with jisung.

jisung, who threw his arm around you every time he saw you talking to a boy by the lockers. jisung, who turned down every date you were asked on before you could even open your mouth. han fucking jisung, who-

“so, you know your friend with the curly hair?” jisung speaks up, standing way too close, leaning his elbows against the counter beside you while you zone out to the hum of the microwave. your popcorn just started popping.

you glance at him sideways, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “yes, i’m aware of her. you know, since she’s my friend and all. ”

jisung hums, biting into his pink bottom lip and looking up at you from his slouched, lazy posture. looking entirely too cocky, way too sure of himself. you blink, looking away before that mental image can get stuck in your head.

“is she single?” he asks, ignoring your scoff of discontent. when you don’t respond he follows up with a whine, drawn out and scratching at your eardrums. “come on- i’m asking for a friend!”

“what friend?” you shoot back, a little incredulous. “chan is the only friend you have!”

han fucking jisung- who is still the devil on your shoulder, even now.

chan graduated college last year. he moved back home, moved back in with your parents until he could find a place in the city- and you couldn’t even pretend to be shocked when jisung decided to move back home too. then, it was your turn to graduate college. and it was only a little embarrassing to fold all of your clothes into your childhood dresser three months ago, feeling better knowing that chan was in the exact same boat.

now it feels like you never moved out. because you still live in your parents’ house with your brother and jisung is still torturing you with his presence.

what makes everything about a billion times worse is that jisung got ripped while he was away at college. it’s obvious chan dragged him to the gym often, the muscled biceps underneath his tight black t shirt flexing with every move he makes. he isn’t some scrawny boy who wears hoodies that swallow him anymore- now he’s… grown up. taller, bigger, but still a pain in your neck. now, the added irritation of all of your friends commenting on how hot your brother’s best friend is just adds more insult to injury.

so, that’s how it goes. you wake up every morning, have your first cup of coffee in peace, and let your mind wander without a path to follow. with your parents gone most of the time, enjoying each other’s company now that they (in theory) have an empty nest, there’s no one around to tell you not to use the good mugs- whatever that means- and there’s no one to break the quiet comfort of silence in the mornings.

that is, until jisung knocks on your front door.

chan is never awake in time to answer, so it’s your duty to be the designated greeting card. you know it’s jisung, because it’s always jisung; when you open the door it’s with a loud groan, as if your peace has been shattered into tiny little shards of what once was. really, it has.

“good morning to you too, gorgeous.” jisung hums, even throws in a wink when he squeezes past you to enter the space. as if he lives there, too.

“chan isn’t awake,” you mumble as you always do, running a hand through your hair and sipping your coffee. it scalds your tongue, still way too hot, but it’s a better alternative to whatever jisung wants to ramble about today.

“oh! i actually meant to tell you- guess who i saw yesterday?” jisung is grinning, sharp white teeth on display. you fight a cold chill that makes you want to shiver, crossing your arms under your chest as you blankly look back at him.

“please tell me who you saw yesterday, i’m on the edge of my seat,” you drawl lazily, monotoned. jisung chuckles as if he is winning an impromptu standoff, as if he’s never lost anything in his life. suddenly, you feel the spike of nerves in your stomach. jisung is always bad to be around, but he’s hellish when he has a secret he knows you want to know.

“i saw lee felix,” he hums out, grinning wider, eyes flicking down your body in slow motion, as if he wants to take the time to savor your reaction and watch the twitch in your fingertips.

you try not to react- you really try. but the flush you feel warming your cheeks and the furrow in your brow can’t be hidden. once again, you’re irate because of han jisung. naturally.

“you mean the guy you lied to about me not being single junior year of high school?” you huff, biting your cheek to stop your anger from slipping into your tone. jisung looks like he is entirely too pleased with himself. “the guy you didn’t correct when he assumed you and i were together? the guy i had a major crush on?”

jisung hums an affirmative sound, resting against the back of the couch behind him, mimicking the cross of your arms with his own muscular ones. you feel your grip tighten on your mug.

“exactly! and you know what he asked me?” jisung raises an eyebrow, tongue pressed between rows of pearly white teeth peeking out of his mouth. you feel the sudden intrusive thought to throw your scalding coffee at him, wipe the cocksure grin from the corners of his lips.

through gritted teeth you decide to humor him. “what did lee felix ask you, jisung?”

and his grin turns sharper- eyes narrowing, pushing off the back of the couch to step an inch closer to you. you hope he doesn’t notice the way your breath hitches in your chest, hope he can’t hear the way your heartbeat is loud in your ears. you have to look up to meet his eye, trapped between his muscled chest and the wall behind you.

“he asked me if you were as good of a fuck as he imagined you to be.”

tv static is taking up all of the space in your head that usually holds your wit, your sharp tongue dulled under the all-encompassing heat in jisung’s stare. if you had any thoughts to spare, you would be asking yourself what the hell is happening. because this isn’t the usual, annoying and protective act you were used to jisung pulling. this isn’t the same as him telling every boy you’ve ever met that he bites- jisung is looking down at you with an intensity behind his dark brown baby doe eyes that makes him look less like prey, more like the thing doing the hunting.

you have to ask yourself, what the hell is wrong with me? because even after all these years of jisung being the thing haunting your every waking moment, your thighs still clench together when he pushes closer. you still feel the way your eyes fight not to flutter closed when his cologne hits your nose, something that smells like roses and petrichor. you feel the pulse of want curl into the base of your stomach, thinking his hands look so much bigger now, wrapped around vein-ridden biceps with crossed arms, thinking about all the ways his hands could engulf you-

jisung is pulling away quickly, and by the time you complete a series of blinks he is leaning against the couch again, phone in hand, casual as ever. you’re about to ask him if you had experienced a hallucination, mouth open but brain not quite working yet, when you hear it: footsteps, slow and dragging down the hall upstairs.

chan comes down the stairs groggy, eyes half closed and curly hair sticking up all over his head. he’s scratching his chest, yawning and barely glancing at your disheveled state before hitting jisung lightly on the arm to get his attention.

“hey man, you still staying here tonight?” chan asks, already retreating back up the steps with jisung tailing him, feet softly thumping the staircase.

“yeah, if that’s cool. dad is having a poker game tonight, he’ll force me to play with his buddies and lose all my money.” you hear the echo of jisung’s chuckle, but you don’t process the words. your brain is still on loop, repeating jisung is staying here tonight over and over again uselessly.

jisung has stayed the night with chan countless times. like previously mentioned, you’re not convinced he even has a house of his own. jisung waking up and descending the stairs of your home is just as normal of an occurrence as chan being here. but-

but. your body is still hot. your thighs are still clenching, as if to get a hold on your bodily reaction to him being as close as he was. he didn’t even do anything- just pushed hot air from his lips, let it hit your neck, just leaned in far too close.

and it’s not like you’re some blushing, virgin mary. your body count isn’t in double digits, but it’s more than one. you like to tease and flirt and let people stutter through trying to do the same in return. you like it when people fawn over you, biting their lips nervously and ducking their head down when they ask you out. so what about the situation that occurred less than five minutes ago made you have such a violent, embarrassing reaction?

you shake your head, using the excuse that it’s just… ovulation. probably. never mind the fact that your period isn’t due for another three weeks, it has to be some weird bodily hormone that makes you feel like opening your legs wide and begging- whatever.

you focus on carrying on as normal, business as usual. you video chat with your best friend, listening to him complain about an art critic who reviewed his favorite piece at the local gallery and totally missed the point. you shower, apply your favorite skin care routine and braid your hair, anything to keep your mind pleasantly busy. anything to keep you from gritting your teeth when you hear the loud claps of laughter from the other side of the hall.

your bed seems so much more comfortable than usual, letting your body sink into the mattress with a sigh of relief. it’s a couple hours earlier than you would usually go to sleep, but the events of this morning made you run circles in your head that exhausted you. so with the moon still rising and the sky just turning completely dark, you close your eyes and try not to think.

and of course, han jisung doesn’t let you know peace. even in your dreams, your mind replays the way he never quite touched you this morning. your mind wanders to thoughts of what it would have felt like if he had- if he had gripped your waist with one large hand, warm palm running up and down your ribs in a faux gesture of innocent intent. would he lure you in gently, like a cat waiting for the right moment to descend with fangs? or would he be mean from the start, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth just to hear the way you whine and see how fast your skin breaks?

the thoughts manifest as visions, dreams of honey skin and a heart shaped mouth. then you feel a hand on your shoulder, shaking you slightly, and that doesn’t feel like a vision at all. it feels real, so real you flutter your eyes open with a squint of confusion.

“hey- there you are,” a low voice, sleep-ridden and scratched, murmurs from above. you swallow the whine trapped in your throat from left over sleep, blinking up to see… han jisung. as if you conjured him from your dreams. of course.

“you were talking in your sleep,” he says next, chuckling after. “nightmare?”

you shake your head, waking up more and more. jisung’s hand is still pressed lightly to your bare shoulder, warm and engulfing. his fingertip rests under your tank top strap.

“wasn’t a nightmare,” you mumble, watching him shift to squat next to you, eye-level. “what are you doing up?”

“bathroom,” he shrugs. “heard you on my way back to chan’s room.”

then jisung is looking at you- really looking, taking in the position your body is in and the flush on your cheeks. the blanket is only covering you from the waist down, too warm in your room to have it up any further. when jisung’s eyes flit down to where your legs are hugging one of your pillows, his head tilts to the side.

“not a nightmare, hm?” he murmurs, phrasing the question in a way that doesn’t want a response. his hand trails down your arm, making you fight off a shiver when his fingers grip the blanket at your waist lightly. “you know, this pillow between your legs is all rumpled up. were you using it?”

then you feel the blanket move down, slowly revealing your hip and the exposed skin of your thigh. you vaguely register that you aren’t wearing pants, too hot to bother with anything more than the underwear clinging to your skin. and jisung is taking in a breath, hitched and amused like he just confirmed his own suspicion. when you glance down you can’t see much, but the moonlight filtering through your window highlights the dark patch of cloth amongst your clean pillow case- right where you suppose you were grinding into it, right where your pussy is clenching at having been caught.

“you know, i only came in here because i thought i heard you say my name,” jisung is grinning. he pulls the blanket further down your thighs, off of your legs, and rakes his gaze back up to your eyes. despite the warmth of your room, you shiver. “were you saying my name, baby?”

baby, baby, baby- playing on loop in his low, scratchy voice. jisung has never called you that, has never looked at you with so much unabashed desire. and his hand moves again, gripping your hipbone in a way that’s almost soft, fingers digging into the space around your hip like he wants to carve out its shape.

“i wasn’t-“ you whisper, shaking your head like you could possibly deny what he so clearly heard. jisung grins like that’s exactly what he wanted you to say.

“oh, you weren’t saying my name?” he hums, brow raised, fingers digging into you just an inch harder. “so i didn’t hear sungie, need you, need your co-“

he’s whining and moaning loud enough to make you panic, hand slapping over his mouth to shut him up. you feel your breath stutter when he doesn’t put up a fight, just looks at you from behind your own hand. you listen for the telltale thump of chan’s feet, but the house outside of your room is silent. jisung wraps his fingers around your wrist, engulfing it, and pulls you away. not far- your hand is resting on his jaw now, only moving you enough so he can speak.

“he’s asleep, you know?” jisung bites into his lip, head tilting back towards the door. you scoff and pull your wrist out of his grip.

“and what are you going to say when he wakes up and comes looking for you? when he finds you in his little sister’s room trying to- seduce her?” you hiss, flustered at the situation. all you get in return is a raised brow and the amused quirk of jisung’s lips.

“come on, baby. you know better than anyone how deep he sleeps. the house could be set on fire and he wouldn’t wake up until the flames hit his foot.”

you don’t have a rebuttal this time. you know jisung has a point, but it’s still so, so wrong. jisung is chan’s best friend, if he ever found out you would both be six feet under. chan would never speak to either of you ever again.

but jisung is right in front of you. he is standing to his feet slowly, like he is afraid to move too quickly and scare the small, feral animal in front of him. your breath hitches sharply when he turns your body, hands guiding you until you’re laying on your back and he can crawl onto the bed. his knees land between your legs, your body responding and legs spreading open even as you think of all of the horrible ways you could be caught.

jisung lets out a long, slow exhale from his parted lips as he looks down at you. your tank top has rumpled up in your sleep, laying right above your stomach, and the hand that lays on your ribs feels so big in comparison. you bite your lip as his hand travels lower, dipping under the waistline of your soaked panties to pull and tug upwards at the material.

jisung groans, “god- you’re so fucking pretty, baby. it’s not fair.”

“what’s not fair?” you mumble, half-dazed and fighting a whine at the way the material of your underwear slides against your sensitive clit.

“you get to walk around like this all the time,” jisung whispers, gaze never leaving your pussy- like he doesn’t want to miss a single twitch of your hips. “and i have to pretend i don’t think about how tight this little cunt would be wrapped around my cock.”

the whine that leaves your lips is one of pure desperation, making your hand slap over your mouth to avoid being heard. jisung flicks his eyes toward the head of the bed, gaze meeting yours, as he tilts his head to the side.

“you like that, rockstar?” jisung asks in a quiet hum, palming his bulge over his sweatpants. he uses his other hand to tease your clit over your thin panties, thumb rubbing over the bundle of nerves ever so lightly. “like when i tell you what you do to me? what i think about when im sleeping in the next room over?”

you nod, bordering on desperate as your hips kick up. jisung groans under his breath, bringing his now slick thumb to his lips and sucking at the digit. then a sigh leaves his mouth, hands moving to pull at the hem of his pajamas.

“can’t fuck you tonight, sweet girl.” he mumbles, leaving you to decide if you want to scoff or cry at the denial. “you’re already so loud, you’ll be screaming if i stick it in. but we can still have fun, yeah? i’ll make you feel good, baby. don’t worry.”

jisung barely gives time for your foggy brain to process the words, sliding his sweats and underwear down to mid thigh and leaving you to gape at his hard cock like a woman starved. jisung is, like, ridiculously big. how did he manage to hide that with all those baggy hoodies? you feel your pussy throb and clench at the mere thought of feeling him stretch you open.

and jisung doesn’t stop- he brings himself closer, spreads your legs so they are wide open and lifted to your chest. one large hand is pressed to the back of your thigh, holding you open, while the other gives lazy attention to his glistening length.

“sung, please-“ you whisper, feeling hot all over and almost possessed. you need him, bad. jisung knows that, too. he knows and all he does to placate you is grin out of the corner of his mouth and grind his hips in a slow, dirty roll forward.

the feeling of his cock, hard and pulsing against your dripping slit with only the dainty fabric of your sheer underwear to separate you, makes you tip your head back in a helpless whimper. he keeps going, grinding his length forward in lazy rolls of his hips, the head of his cock pushing against your clit in a way that makes your head spin. you’re already soaked, panties dripping wet to aid in the glide of jisung’s length, and you can’t help the little gasps leaving your mouth as your hips buck forward.

“ah- yeah baby, just like that,” jisung pants, one arm resting by your head while the other keeps your thigh held up. he grinds into you faster, matching the stuttered pace of your own hips as he bends down to lay messy, open-mouthed kisses to your neck. “keep moving those hips, rockstar. making me feel so good.”

you whimper softly, near pathetic, as your head tilts to the side to give jisung more access to your neck. his mouth moves constantly, licking and biting at the skin with a reckless sort of desperation. he’s wet, too- you can feel the precum dripping from his tip smear against your panties, soaking through to your clit with the rest of the mess you’ve made.

“sung, please- want more,” you whine out, arms wrapping around his neck and nails clawing at his shoulders. he curses, hips bucking harder before he pulls away slightly to look at you.

and you’re a mess. panting for breath, tank top tucked up to rest just under your tits, face and neck flushed, underwear clinging to your soaked cunt and throbbing with need. jisung bites his lip harshly, causing a white indent on the flesh. when he gives his length a slick pump, the sound makes you both whine.

“shit, okay. can’t fuck you but- just a little more,” he’s breathing out, sliding your ruined panties to the side. he groans at the sight, your pussy glistening in the low light as he uses his thumbs to spread you open. you can’t help but clench as his eyes land on your needy hole, moaning a little too loud when long, deft fingers dip inside of you just slightly.

“baby, rockstar-“ jisung is huffing against your ear, fingertips barely pushing in and out of your entrance. “you’re soaked. do you always get this wet, or do you just like me that much, hm?”

you can’t help the whine that leaves you, feeling so on edge but not getting enough stimulation to push you over, embarrassed at the thought of jisung knowing just how much he affects you. “just for you, ji. no one else.”

a moan from above, soft and airy, followed by an equally soft, “good fucking girl.”

jisung’s fingers flit over you, grazing your throbbing clit before lining his leaking cock back up. the feeling of bare skin sliding against bare skin, his slick length nudging your clit and the wet sounds of each roll of your hips makes your whines grow an octave higher. jisung is there to tease you, as always. leaning back into your space, panting into you ear as his length throbs on your pussy, up and down and up and down.

“gotta be quiet rockstar, remember? wouldn’t wanna wake channie-hyung up, would you?”

you remember the situation you’re in with startling clarity. chan, your older brother, in the next room over. jisung, his best friend, sneaking into your bed in the middle of the night and finding you a pathetic, needy mess. somehow, the idea of being caught like this, with jisung over you and his length sliding between your slit, makes you feel that much closer.

“god, please i-“ you break off your begging to moan when the tip of jisung’s cock catches against your entrance- not entering you, but so close. “need you, ji. need you to fuck me, please-“

“shh, sh, sh, baby. how am i supposed to fuck you like this, hm? already so wet, fuck- i’d bust as soon as i stretched you open on it.”

you feel tears build up in your eyes at being denied again, hole clenching at the empty feeling even though you feel so good from the stimulation his hips provide. your clit is hyper-sensitive, every press and push against it making your thighs twitch and shake more. you don’t realize the tears have spilled from your lash line until you feel jisung’s tongue, hot and so wet, sliding against your cheek to clean you up.

“oh, what am i gonna do with you?” jisung is whispering, almost to himself, shuddering into your skin. “fine, shit- okay. just the tip, alright?”

you blink through the daze in your mind, giving jisung a look that attempts a blank stare. “did you learn that from porn, sungie?”

he responds with a scoff, an incredulous raise of his brows. “i mean it! just the tip, baby. no more, wanna hear you scream properly the first time i sink all the way into you.”

oh. yeah, okay.

you feel heat roll through your body, jisung not even moving away from kissing your cheeks and neck as he lines his hard cock up with your entrance, running the tip of his length up and down your slit. finally, finally, pushing inside.

jisung feels huge inside you- after being teased relentlessly for what felt like hours, his cock finally stretching your walls open felt like heaven. but as he said, he thrusts only the tip inside.

“ngh- god, rockstar. you feel so fucking good wrapped around my cock,” jisung is whining, panting against your collarbone. “so tight, trying to suck me in all the way.”

all you can do is muffle your moans against jisung’s shoulder, nails digging into the skin of his lower back where his shirt has ridden up and legs wrapping around his narrow hips. you can feel the ridges on his length, the head of it pressing into you just barely past your entrance before pulling out again. it’s so much, it’s not enough- at this rate you feel the urge to flip positions and push yourself so far down on jisung’s cock you can feel it in your stomach. but your body is useless, thighs trembling from the continued barely-there stimulation, and jisung is murmuring against your ear again.

“wanna know what i said to felix, baby?” he’s asking with a sharp inhale, remembering your conversation from earlier. you’re tempted to scream, tell him you don’t care what he said to felix, you don’t care about felix- or anyone else, for that matter. all you can think about is jisung, jisung, jisung, and the way he could be filling you up so deliciously right now if he would just go a little bit further.

instead, you speak around the whine in your throat. “what?”

jisung fights to keeps his words steady in between little aborted grinds of his hips, fat head of his cock pushing inside you again and again. his hands wandering to your hips, squeezing fingers hard enough to leave indented bruises in their wake.

“he asked me what you felt like, if you were a good- fuck. and i said,” a moan, burying his head in your neck and muffling his words just barely. “said you were the best fuck of my life, rockstar. shit- so tight, so hot- swallowing my cock like this little pussy is starving for it. told him- all he could do was fist his dick and imagine it, you know why?”

jisung pauses the small, fast thrust of his hips. you can’t breathe, can only feel the head of his cock resting at your entrance, barely inside, spreading your folds open. you throb, clenching around the small amount of his length inside you, and his exhale is stuttered before he finishes rambling.

“‘cause you’re mine to fuck, baby. and i’m the only one that gets to make you cry like this.”

there’s a large palm pressing over your mouth as jisung buries his head in the side of your neck, muffling his own long, drawn out groan as he pushes his thick cock inside you- all the fucking way. the hand at your lips barely offers reprieve when you scream, eyes clenching shut at the feeling of finally being so full and stretched open around jisung’s length. delirious, you think you can feel the bulge of it in your lower stomach.

jisung can’t control his hips anymore, biting the skin where your shoulder and neck meet to keep himself somewhat muffled as he snaps in and out of you at a rapid pace, never leaving your soaked pussy more than halfway. your legs are barely holding onto jisung’s hips, ankles weakly hooked at his back, and you pant harshly into the hand around your mouth.

“so, fucking, good-“ jisung moans by your ear, voice low and gravelly and dripping with that same desperate need you feel clawing up your spine. it’s almost too much- the all encompassing stimulation you get to have so suddenly after being teased with the lightest touches for so long. jisung does what he does best, and he makes matters so much worse.

deft fingers reach your clit, throbbing and sensitive to any touch. the response is immediate, lightning curling your toes and making you yelp into the palm over your mouth. jisung chuckles, half breathless and half manic, continuing to ramble on in your ear.

“that’s right rockstar, just keep shaking,” he moans, fingers circling your clit in fast little figure eights. you feel the spark of pleasure in your gut grow bolder, louder, and know you’re close. jisung must know too, you can feel his teeth against your neck as he keeps his pace, hips slamming into you, fingers working you over until your eyes are rolling back and stars are dotting your vision.

the moan that leaves your mouth would surely be loud enough to wake chan up if not for jisung’s hand muffling it. he curses quick, hips stuttering before he’s cumming too- inside you, filling your cunt up in a way that makes you shiver through the last of your own orgasm. jisung thrusts again, riding out his high in a slower, syrupy grind, before he pulls out with one last sigh.

you can feel his release leaking out of your spent pussy, whimpering as the warm air hits your soaked core. jisung moans softly, almost pitifully, thumb running through the mess leaking out of you and smearing it along your slit. then, he has the audacity to pull your panties back into place over the mess. with a quick pat to your ruined underwear and a kiss to your forehead he stands.

the wink he throws you is absurdly nerdy, using both eyes to do so. you roll your eyes but can’t help the fond smile on your face as he pulls the blanket back over you.

“sweet dreams, rockstar.” he whispers, kissing your lips once more and sinking his teeth into the lower one in a tease. you pout as he walks away, looking back at you once more to give a wide grin before dipping out of the room. you hear the soft close of chan’s door before you drift off again, body spent but mind quiet and a small, content smile gracing your lips.

when you wake up, it is to aching muscles and a content, quiet buzz in your head. you stretch, groaning at the sheer amount of bones that pop in your body, before getting up and getting ready for the day. blushing, you remember the messy state your body was left in, showering to get rid of the worst of it. the bruises on your hips and collarbone won’t wash away, but you smile at them before covering them up. you hope they never fade.

downstairs, the house is alive with the sound of two deep voices. you must have slept longer than anticipated, for once waking up after chan. you descend the stairs with your heart beating in your throat, nervous and hoping chan doesn’t immediately clock the sinful thoughts in your head.

“y/n! you slept in late,” chan hums, glancing up from the video game he and jisung are in the middle of. jisung doesn’t tear his eyes away from his character on the screen, but there’s a small twitch to his lips that makes your thighs clench just slightly.

“morning,” you mumble, pouring scalding coffee into one of your favorite mugs. you shuffle into the living room, criss-crossing your legs in the armchair to the left of the couch in use. you don’t know who is playing what character, but isabelle is kicking donkey kong’s ass.

once a winner is announced chan sighs, grinning and allowing jisung to tease him for his apparent loss. then chan turns to you, making his best friend do the same, and you fight the flush threatening to announce suspicion.

“by the way, were you having a nightmare last night?” chan asks, you blinking dumbly at him in response. jisung coughs beside him, poorly attempting to hide the snort of laughter that almost bubbled up.

“no. why?” you ask, fighting to remain normal and like the picture of nonchalance. chan shrugs, turning back to the television like he is none the wiser. he switches his character from donkey kong to link. jisung picks a weird red dragon.

“i was half asleep so i could’ve imagined it, i just thought i heard you talking. sounded like a nightmare,” chan says, mostly focused on the start of a new round.

you hum noncommittally, watching jisung’s character hit a fast combo and KO link. while waiting for chan to respawn, jisung catches your eye with a bitten lower lip that hides a cocky, satisfied grin. he clears his throat softly, throwing his hand up to run through messy hair. on the way back to holding his controller, jisung sneaks his hand to the side of his neck and taps the skin there, flicking his gaze down to your own neck.

your breath hitches when you touch the skin there, feeling the faint thrum of pain from a bruise you know is visible. you raise the collar on your shirt to cover it, quickly looking back to the tv when the next round starts.

“you should try to get more sound sleep,” jisung is speaking now, shrugging like he’s just making conversation. you can only watch his slim fingers flit over the buttons on his controller out of the corner of your eye, ears ringing. “they say working up a sweat beforehand helps you sleep like a baby.”

chan nods, barely paying attention to the conversation as he curses under his breath at the game. jisung glances at his best friend, glancing at you after, and winks.

“if you ever need a tip, just let me know, y/n. i always have time to help.”

han fucking jisung will never stop being a problem. that thought doesn’t feel as heinous as it once had.

a/n: hello lovebugs :3 :3

i can’t help it really i can’t the parasites in my brain take over and move my stupid little thumbs in a way that just writes perv hanji without me even knowing until i see the finished product in my drafts i swear

as always,, requests are open!! i promise i will eventually post the requests that are pending… i just have a worm in my noggin, as previously mentioned

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@pineapple-in-a-burgah , @breakmeoff , @dollce-exe , @kwomikailea , @emkvlixsx , @bahngarang