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everything that falls has wings | 🧿 | 20

[u-know-too-much]

relieve.

[u-know-too-much]

Not everyone is allowed this much. I simply can't live with being myself haha

[u-know-too-much]

bruh I'm crying cs I got questioned about the trajectory I want in life like Hahaha halatamg wala akong pangarap sa buhay lowk. Gusto ko lang naman magkapera. That's supposed to be a soft callout to get wake up I'm trying my best you're not really feeling like you're doing good enough. You need to figure your shit out. And it's embarrassing and disheartening to see that oh you're right this is exactly my fault and I didn't really use all this time to do my best. I let me being tired and feeling like I don't fit in and my fear stop me from so many opportunities. Like I didn't deserve this at all. This opportunity should've gone to someone else. I'm not going to make it out of here. There's no diligence in what I do, no passion, no intelligence. I won't make it. Like fleas only reaching up to the bottleneck. Nowhere is far enough

[u-know-too-much]

I am clueless and ignorant and I should be grateful for all the opportunities coming my way. Since I am not fortunate, I do not have a safety net.

Nothing matters. It will all end. The burden of repaying back is merely the sum of all the pity that's been slowly running out these years. I need to grow up. I must fly out. I can't keep myself shelled in like this. But I am scared. That ultimately I amount to nothing. You've bet so much on the wrong cards.

All of a sudden in confronted with the future. One I've never planned to arrive.

[owwllly]

old yuji and megumi

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ He can't fuck you like I can ❞

Jason Todd x vigilante!ftm!reader | porn with plot, minor angst, hints of fluff | sub. bttm. reader (AFAB) | wc: 3.9K

warnings: most likely inaccurate gun anatomy and care, dysfunctional relationship, dub. consent, gunplay, dacryphilia, possessive fucking, mentions of abandonment issues, slight degradation, creampies, AFAB terminology (clit referred to as dick/cock. terms like cunt/boycunt, pussy/boypussy, hole, sex are used)

summary: Jason and you had broken up. He didn’t think you meant it. Not until you mention a one-night stand. He’s determined to remind you that no one else could ever have you like that.  Listening to ▸Teeth (interlude) by XXXTENTACION / The Worst by Jhené Aiko Patreon | Discord

It’s raining in Gotham City. It’s an unrelenting force, a sheet of water thundering against window panes and cars mercilessly. Yet, the citizens of Gotham City go about their nights as usual. A little rain didn’t scare them. There were more terrifying figures in the dark to fear, but there were others in the dark, too. People who would protect them. 

Whether it's Batman or the other vigilantes, despite their personal opinions on your methods, they never complained when you saved them. 

The cops, however, had their own thoughts about you. Your methods were much more brutal than they’d like; you were a harder pill to swallow compared to the Bat and his proteges of brightly coloured circus monkeys. Like you gave a shit. 

You strained your eyes to listen to the garbled chatter in your ears. Rainy, stormy nights were the perfect setting for criminals to do as they did. Lower visibility, coupled with the muffling the rain provided, gave them more cover. That, and some cops found gravity weighing down on them when it came to patrolling their routes when it rained. 

Those lazy bastards. 

Still, the police scanner crackled to life. If only you could make out what they were saying, but alas, the rain was being more of a pain in the ass than usual. You let out an annoyed sigh, half-tempted to chuck the in-ear communicator onto the ground and go back to the usual routine of chasing police lights. But before you could make up your mind, your ears picked up on a pair of footsteps that you’d memorised. 

Heavy steel-toed combat boots. Light despite it — their owner being a man who’d trained to keep his steps cat-like from years of living in Gotham, then being trained under the Batman, and finally being trained under assassins. The man, the myth, the thorn in your side and pain in your ass;

Jason Todd. 

You cursed, rolling your eyes as you face him. He stalks forward. The dingy yellow light of the rooftop you were on barely highlighted the red hues of his helmet. You scoff as he stays silent, still making his way towards you in a casual cadence that annoys you so much that you walk towards the ledge. 

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he gruffs out. You wished you couldn’t hear him. You wished his voice would be crackling and as indiscernible as the police scanner chatter. “Don’t be such a drama queen, will ya’?”

“Hell do you want, Red?” You spun on your heel, but don’t budge from the edge because if you did, he’d get into his head about how obedient you are or some bullshit like that. It wouldn’t be uncharacteristic of him — the crux of your break-up had been his silent expectations of you in the relationship. Something he didn’t communicate to you, which left him unhappy, and you bitter. 

It wasn’t your fault; Jason couldn’t open his mouth to speak about these things. Therefore, it wasn’t your responsibility to cater to his needy insecurities if he never said anything in the first place. That’s what you’d told your civilian friends anyway, and they fully agreed because they were your friends. Even if they were your own echo chamber, you still knew a part of your argument stayed true. 

If Jason couldn’t communicate, then why would he be shocked that you’d be clueless about his personal feelings? 

“What? I can’t have a chummy talk with you?” he jerks his head at you, his gloved hands crossing his broad chest as you hear him scoff. 

Your brow twitches, and you swear you feel a vein pop out on your temple. 

“Chummy talk? Now, you can talk to me?”

“Oh fuck, here you fuckin’ go again —”

You raise your hands, shaking your head. Your bangs sway along with you, rivulets of water making their way down your nose and face as you jump down from the ledge and stomp towards your gear. 

“You want to have talks? Like, therapy sessions, yeah? That’s what you want?” His jabbering causes irritation to spread through you. The feeling of rain making your hair wet, and the annoying noise in your ear of garbled speeches, is already fraying your senses as is. Jason’s obtuseness wasn’t helping lift your mood in the slightest. You hoped the criminals tonight would put up a good fight, because you desperately needed something to punch. 

“We’re vigilantes. We’re not a normal couple,” Jason said. His helmet was warping his voice slightly. 

“We’re not a couple, Red,” you remind him. He tilts his head, laughing. 

“Something funny?” You ask in a flat tone. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your annoyance. 

“What? You being serious?” 

“Fuck’s sake, Jason. I haven’t been to your place in weeks, haven’t even returned your calls, much less your messages. Are you that dense?”

“Over a dumb argument?”

“An argument you started!” You yelled, not being able to stop yourself, as you laughed in disbelief. The dark clouds above you rumbled, and the rain lightened up slightly. But Gotham’s weather was as finicky as Jason’s mood at times, so you didn’t find it at all reassuring. 

“You were the one who started talking about how I’m not good enough for you! That I shouldn’t be doing missions because clearly,” you stressed the last word with as much disdain as you could. “I’m too stupid to know how criminal enterprises work, despite my extensive multi-year career.”

“Okay, I know I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said.”

“Most of the things, Jason.”

You can’t see it, but you know he’s rolling his eyes, and the thought of that pisses you off enough to turn your back to him. 

“Can you stop walking away? I was just worried about you, alright! I could’ve worded it better, I digress. I was just angry because you were being reckless.” 

“You gave me a test, a mission, like I’m your sidekick instead of your boyfriend. Do you know how humiliating it is? Then! You graded me and gave me constructive criticism!”

Jason didn’t understand why you found that so offensive. That’s how he’d been trained all his life, and it made him stronger. His reflexes, his quickhandedness in combat, and his quick wits had been earned through grit and tests. He didn’t think you’d be so reckless, and in the heat of the moment, his words came out much harsher than he had intended. 

“I’m a grown-ass man, Jason. I don’t need to be tested by my boyfriend of all people!”

“Oh, so we’re boyfriends again?” Jason follows you as you leap to a different rooftop. If Gotham citizens could hear you both now, they’d be sitting on their fire escapes with a popcorn bucket in hand. 

“No!” You yell, just as thunder rumbles again and the rain pours down harder. 

“Move on already, Jason! God knows I have!”

His head snaps upwards as he watches your figure shrink the further away you stomp, but then he doubles his speed and grasps at your shoulder. You nearly spin from the force of his grip, but you remain steady on your feet as you level your glare at him. 

“Fuck does that mean? You seeing someone?” You hate that your cock twitches at the rough tone he takes. But you push through that mindless lust, shoving him back as you continue your journey to get away from him. 

“I fucked someone! Best night of my fucking life!” 

Jason stood there, stunned. The rain continued to pour, and the sight of your leaping figure got smaller and smaller as the minutes ticked by. Jason felt like the earth beneath him had opened up and swallowed him in those minutes. His heart started to pick up its speed again, and he tugged his helmet off when he felt the air beginning to get thinner and thinner. He hated this. This all-consumming feeling of dread swallowed him whole and turned his limbs as heavy as lead. 

Why did you have this much power over him? No, why had he given you this much power?

He thought he’d learned his lesson a lifetime ago. But here he was again, left in the dark and cold as his mind raced with a million possibilities. He loves you, did you not see that? Were you too angry to see it, or had you truly just given up on him? You promised him once upon a time that you would never do that. 

But Bruce had made the same promise before, then broke it and replaced him. Jason’s head pulsed, and he grit his teeth as he tried to ground himself back to earth. That stupid fucking therapy method again, something about focusing his senses, or was it meditation, fuck! He couldn’t think.

Were you leaving him? 

Did you hate him?

Were you wishing you’d never even met him?

It’s nearly morning when you stumble home. Knuckles satisfyingly bruised and back aching; you craved a warm shower, then your comfortable bed to end this shitty night. 

Your plans would need to be put on pause when you entered your home and immediately picked up on his presence. You hung your head, tiredly swinging your legs over your window ledge and placing your elbows on your knees as you frustratingly ran your fingers through your hair. The puddle of water dripping onto the floor from your drenched frame was the least of your concerns as you glared at Jason from between your fingers. 

He was leaning against your kitchen counter, his hood still on his face as he held his gun in his hands. He had disassembled it, and pieces of it lay on your counter, twinkling at you as though greeting you. 

“Get out of my house, psycho.” 

Jason’s cheek twitches, but he continues to wipe his gun down, pretending he hadn’t heard you at all. 

“You remember how much you slobbered on my Glock?”

You freeze as you register what he’d just so casually asked you. So he takes this chance to continue. 

“Because I do. You were begging for me to shove it in your mouth, sucking it like it was my dick.” He places his rag — it was yours, he’d gone and used your shit because he knew you used the same supplies as him, because he was a good boyfriend, and he made sure you used the best of the best like he did — down on your counter, then he fixes the barrel and recoil spring back. When he lines up the slide and racks his gun, the loud click that it makes sends shivers down your spine. 

“I fucked you so hard that night, you walked funny. You said that was the best night of your life.”

“Jason.”

“Stoker’s a funny family name,” Jason tips his head down, and your fingers curl into fists as you both glare at the other. “No relation to the author, though, shame. Would’ve been cooler if he was.”

“You found out who I fucked?” 

“Wasn’t hard. I know which bar you like to go to, asked around. Told Debby we were going through a rough patch, she said she didn’t like Arthur that much anyway. Fucker doesn’t subscribe to the idea of tipping apparently.”

You cautiously approach him, uncaring of the water you drag in as the ambience of the still-harsh rain muffles the silence between you. Jason keeps you in his sights. He knows you’re gearing to lunge at him, not because he’s a threat. No, Jason wasn’t a scumbag who’d hurt his boyfriend. He wasn’t that kind of piece of shit — he’d much rather die than become one. 

You just want to intimidate him. Chase him out of your home. Out of your life. 

Jason rolls his shoulder and lazily inspects his now-clean gun. Aiming it at your wooden floors. As you draw closer, your eyes take in the organised mess he’d set up. Then, the bloody rag.

“You pistol-whipped him?” Jason turns his head to look at you.

“You’d rather I shoot him?”

You hate how heated he got you. How easily he stokes anger and lust inside of you, how much your heart squeezes when you see those sea-green eyes stare into you. They’re always desperate, not vulnerable, but desperate. Like he wanted you to see him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to show it. So you made it a point to unravel parts of him — made sure he knew you’d always be someone that stayed, someone that wouldn’t leave him because he was broken. 

But fuck, he made you so pissed sometimes. 

“Take off your helmet, Jason.”

He perks up at the tone you take. Not snarky, not clipped. There was an air of resignation in there, but your frown remained on your face, so he remained cautious. He places his helmet on the counter, and you take Jason Todd in.

There he was. His inky black hair stuck to his forehead, streaks of white accompanying it. He had strong brow bones, shadows often enveloping his eyes, if it weren’t for how bright they were. Then, his tall nose bridge that’d been reset so many times, you were surprised it still stayed as pretty as it was. His m-shaped cupid's bow, the scar that ran down his lip and the scar on his cheek; a gnarly J carved so deep it never went away. 

He couldn’t meet your eyes. So you call out for him again. 

There’s that desperation. 

“He was a pussy,” he said flatly. “Why in the fuck would you sleep with him?”

You pull off your domino mask, rubbing at the makeup around your eyes. It smudged messily, sticking to your gloved hands, but you couldn’t give a damn. You were exhausted, and Jason’s whining wasn’t helping. Even if he pulled at your heartstrings, your body was far too tired. 

“Jason,” you sigh out. 

“You think he could’ve fucked you like I could?” He waved his unloaded gun around, a loose grin on his handsome face as he turned his body to face you. Still leaned against your counter, still entirely too casual. 

“You think anyone could satisfy your fucked up fantasies like I could?”

You rub at the back of your neck, giving him a half-hearted glare as you remember what he was referencing. He’d been cleaning his gun, and you watched on lazily. It was the way he did it so efficiently. His pretty hands are taking it apart, then wiping it clean. The way he cleaned the barrel, thrusting the brush in then out once. Then again, unsatisfied with the cleanliness.

You’d been horny. Blurting out how it looked so sensual — he apparently cleaned your gun sexily. He thought you were joking, but you continued. Saying the gun was almost like a cock. 

You ended up kneeling between his legs that night, his gun in your mouth and his fingers in your hair as you teased him. 

He was right. Not everyone would be cool with even the idea of bringing a gun into the bedroom. Certainly not Arthur Stoker. You doubted even the other vigilantes you knew would be open to it — they’d call you insane, or kinky if they were being nice, but they’d most definitely judge you. 

Jason approaches you, and you tip your head to look at him. He places the barrel under your jaw, dragging it down to your chin, then tapping it there. 

“It’s clean,” he mutters dryly. You fight the urge to scoff. 

You were so tired.  But a good fucking never hurt. Or even if it did, it’d be a good kind of hurt. 

Jason sucked in a breath when you pressed your kiss to it. Your smudged makeup and painted lashes made your eyes seem brighter than it was, even under your shitty kitchen lights.

You slip your tongue to the sides, tracing the slide and groaning softly when you open your mouth and let him admire the sight of his gun on your tongue. Jason grabs the back of your head and smashes your lips together. You react like a live wire, wrapping your arms around him, and he wastes no time in carrying you to your bedroom. 

Jason is impatient. You don’t blame him. You’re sure he intends to erase any traces of Arthur from you — he grips you like that’s the case. His eyes were heavy, possessiveness rolling off of him in waves. 

He looked so handsome.

You couldn’t help but kiss him again, and again. He grunted, bringing you on top of him and resting you on his lap as you grinded on him. He reeked of the rain, smog, and gunpowder. But underneath that, there’s his signature cologne. Bergamot and rich vanilla, burning so deliciously together. Then, as you ran your lips down his neck, you grinned at the scent of the body wash you’d gotten him. 

If your clothes didn’t have Kevlar woven through their threads, you were sure Jason would’ve ripped them to shreds. Still, the speed at which he gets you naked could have been record-breaking. You reach for his belt, but he pins you down to the bed instead.

He presses the gun to your cunt and feels a giddy laugh escaping him when your pupils blow out. 

“You’re a piece of work, baby.”

You shudder as he rubs it against your dick. The smoothness of it causes a small moan to escape you, and he grunts. “You’re getting your cunt juices all over it. You’re fucking filthy, you know that?”

“You love it though, right?” You stretch your arms above your head, and your back thanks you for it. Then you slowly melt against your bedding, looking up at him with nothing but complete trust in your eyes.

“You love me, right?”

Jason’s expression softens. He nods, helping you as he moves his weapon in tandem with the lazy rolls of your hips.  

“Yeah,” he admits raspily. “Yeah, I love you.”

You reach for his face, palm covering that scar, and he leans down to kiss you. 

Jason presses the barrel to your cunt, and you widen your legs. He watches your face as he pushes it in, his thumb over the pulse on your neck, so he can feel how you react. You face him, smudging your pillows with your dark makeup, and whisper his name. The more he pushes, the faster your pulse gets. 

When it’s inside of you, you’re panting. If you were in pain, you didn’t show it. 

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he whispers to you. Sweeping your hair back and kissing your lips chastely. 

“Taking it in so good. Such a good slut for me. You’re never gonna leave me, right?” You flutter your eyes open, nodding as you trail your hand over the curve of his ear. 

“Say it.”

“Jason — ah!”

He’s halfway there, and you’re clenching down on it. His lips purse as you struggle to answer. 

“Say it,” he says with a sharper tone. His finger dips to the trigger, and you shiver as you hear him applying more pressure. Although you knew his gun was unloaded, the fact that he was so desperate to hear you say you needed him,  he put his hands on the trigger made your heart race. 

“Please.”

“I’m never going to leave you, Jason,” you assure him in a steady tone. You gulp down a moan, stroking over his cheek as you smile at him. 

“No one else loves me like you do, Jay.”

Jason kisses you again, this time slower, with more heat. When he cries, you try your best not to get wetter, but it's hard when he starts thrusting his gun in and out of you. You mewl, voice pitched as he begins to get rougher. His arms flexed, the veins on the back of his hands and up his arms getting pronounced as he fucks you through your first orgasm. 

“Say it again, baby. Say you need me.”

Jason’s tears were welling in his eyes, and when he blinked, they finally slipped down his chiselled face. You moan out his name sweetly, watching how shimmery his seagreen eyes got the more emotional he was.

“Jay — Jason, baby.”

He makes a noise, soft and inquiring. You kiss his tears, savouring it on your tongue as you squeeze his biceps.

“Please, fuck me already.”

Jason pulls his gun out, and you shudder at the gape it leaves. He places your thighs over his hips, and you’re barely given a moment to think when he presses his head into you. Your back arches off the bed, a silent scream escaping you as he relentlessly presses on. Impatient, possessive, emotional. You smile dopily as you bite down on your stained pillows. 

“Fuck, your boycunt feels so good, baby.”

You groan in agreement, Jason’s jaw goes loose as he slips his eyes shut. He squeezes at your hips, his grip bruising as he tries to get you to take him to his hilt. But he’s so thick, and you’re so tight. You whimper out that there’s lube, so he stretches over you to grab it because he doesn’t want to slip out. 

Jason gives a generous pour, messily swiping his hands up and down your cunt. Giving your twitching dick a rub that makes you squirm. 

He slides back, leaving only his tip inside of you, then pours more. It helps you immensely. You hear him toss the bottle of lube next to his gun. You chew your bottom lip in anticipation. 

Jason’s first thrusts are slow, but deep. Grinding into you, rubbing at your swollen cock as he watches your face. He’s gentlemanly like that. Making sure you feel pleasure first, obsessed with the feeling of your cunt wrapped around him. 

Then, once he feels you tighten up and he sees the telltale signs of your orgasm, he stops. You whine and whimper, but he simply shushes you. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise, I promise.”

He snaps his hips into you. The sound of skin smacking skin echoes through your apartment. You gasp, digging your nails into his back as he folds you in half. He uses gravity to fuck into you, moaning into your ear as he braces one hand on your headboard. The springs in your mattress squeak in alarm, and you’re sure your neighbours were going to fucking despise you with how hard your bed was thudding against the wall.

Your moans weren’t helping either. 

But fuck your neighbours. If they were getting fucked this good, they’d be loud too. Jason sobs suddenly, and you press wet kisses to his cheek, shushing him when he goes back to that slow grind. 

He always gets overwhelmed when it feels good. Something he’d tried desperately to fix until he met you. You reassured him with your fucked out voice that he was good, that you felt good too. He clung to your words like they were gospel. 

“Are you close?” he asks you, his voice raspy. 

“Yeah, but…but I wanna cum with you. Please.”

Jason actually blushes. He wipes away a few stray tears, then focuses on that pace that made you dig your nails into him. You yelp, mouth hanging open as he continues his relentless thrusts. He can feel you clench down, so he reaches to jerk you off. 

Your thighs tremble, ankles locking behind him, and his eyes flutter closed as he feels you milk his cock desperately. His hips stutter, his groans turning harsh as he gives a few sloppy thrusts until he finally cums inside of you. You shudder at the feeling of him filling you up, legs falling onto the bed as you try to catch your breath. 

Shit. 

You were never going to be able to break up with Jason Todd, huh?

[pervertedaydreams]

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN

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kinktober day 8: dry humping & breath play

pairing: loner! top/seme male reader x popular! bully! character

premise: you get entangled in a game of 'seven minutes in heaven' with the group of guys who bully you every day—perhaps they don’t hate you as much as you think

postscript: y'all know the drill; this writing piece isn't explicitly for any character, so you're free to decide who you want it to be about. also, I low-key might make a sequel to this, but don't hold me to it!!!

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you were never one to be known. a majority of your time was spent in solitude, viewing being alone as a means for peace. that simple fact made you a target for a great plethora of insults and teasing from whoever felt it was necessary to call out your lack of socialization. more times than not, however, it was the popular kids of a school. 

the school fame never ceased to reach their head, and they let you know that by making it a habit to bug you at least once per day. had you not known any better, you would've thought their harassment was just a disguised attempt to linger around you, with how big of a portion of their school day they took just to be in your space. 

you didn't bother meddling in the reason behind why they did what they did; you just focused on getting through it every day and giving them the smallest reaction you could. 

eventually at some point in the year, one of your very few friends had invited you to a party. well—really, he had to beg for you to go. aside from being an outcast at school, you also avoided get-togethers of any sort. it was almost ridiculous how much you kept to yourself. 

nonetheless, after an excessive amount of pleading from your companion to leave your house and join him at the function, you finally agreed. although you gave in to his attempts at getting you to go, you didn't plan to stay for long at the gathering. if it was as good of a party as your friend had described, the chances of your tormentors being there were extremely likely. after all, what was a party without renowned students showing up?

what you didn't expect, however, was to bump into them at such an early point while there. you'd only made it ten minutes inside the house where the event was taking place before you heard a familiar voice across the room, using the insulting name that only a secluded group of individuals called you. 

before you knew it, one of your bullies had made their way across the room and draped an arm around you, prodding at the reason behind you being there. "I don't think the host would've knowingly invited you to this party; are you sure you didn't sneak your way past the entrance or something?" he'd asked, a playful tone accompanying his words while a demeaning stare stuck to his eyes.

not even getting the chance to respond, someone from the room he had previously been in called out for him, informing him that "the game" was about to start. you were beyond confused, as prior to him coming up, you had no knowledge of a game happening. 

though, you hoped that him getting that piece of data would mean leaving you alone to go partake in whatever it was. instead, he dragged you along with him, shoving you past the crowd and into a smaller room with people sitting down in a circle; one empty beer bottle lay flat in the middle of them.

as you scanned the room, you came to the realization that not only him, but also the rest of the group of boys who spent their free time harassing you were also playing this supposed game. that would've been your cue to turn around and leave, but as you were held in place by the initial guy that saw you, escaping wasn't an option anymore.

after a bit of slander from the other guys who you also recognized in the room, you ultimately sat down in the circle as well, getting a spot in between two random girls that you'd never met before. they seemed pretty normal about you, even with the continuous insults that kept on being thrown your way and questions about why you'd chosen to sit in between two chicks. 

when all of the harassment calmed down, though, the game officially began. up to this point, you were still fairly confused on what the motive behind the game was. yeah, you were aware it was probably some sort of intimate game due to the setup, but you weren't exactly sure which one it was. 

and by the time you'd found out, the bottle had already landed on you. it wouldn't have been that bad of a thing, had it not been spun again and landed on—of course—one of your bullies. this is when you immediately became tense, already expecting a wave of degrading words to fly out of his mouth as retaliation for the bottle's stopping point. 

yet, he didn't. instead, he just stood up with a grin, already walking to the closet door before you could fully register anything. he wasn't going to say anything about it? 'huh, that's a bit weird,' you thought to yourself, slowly getting off the floor and following lead to his steps. 

as the door closed with a "click," you heard the muffled voice of one of the girls saying she was going to start the timer for 7 minutes now. you heard her footsteps getting farther away from the door, letting out a deep exhale as you looked around the tight-fit room, trying to avoid any chance at making eye contact with the guy in front of you.

he didn't seem to agree with the whole silence plan, though, snickering at you with a glare of contempt in his eyes. "you've never played this game before or something?" he asked while crossing his arms. "probably not, considering you don't have any people to hang out—and much less play this game with."

he let out a laugh at his own words, thinking the topic of your solitude was beyond hilarious. you didn't feed into his taunting, however, keeping your gaze away from his body and on a part of the wall. that seemed to irk him, as he got close to you, removing one hand from his chest to grab you by the collar of your shirt.

"hey, I'm talking to you, asshole," he'd spit out, his brows furrowed at your lack of acknowledgement for him. he leaned his face closer to yours, trying to use the proximity as a means for you to look at him. "is there a problem with your vision or something?"

you closed your eyes as you let out a deep exhale, shifting your head to finally look at him. before you could tell him to buzz off and leave you alone, he took the chance of your face being aligned opposite of his and smashed your lips together. your first instinct was to try pushing him away, but he only used that as motive to move you both against a wall in the room, using the firm enclosure to wrap his arms around your neck, and deepening the kiss more.

by this point you couldn't breathe. you were too caught up on the fact that the least likely person to ever do this was actively kissing you and refusing to disconnect your lips. the shock of the situation had made remembering to take in air fairly hard, and the longer the kiss went on, the weaker you got, your legs starting to wobble and your frame sliding down the floor from your lack of oxygen.

when you eventually collapsed, he finally pulled away. you stayed sprawled on the closet floor, breathing hard in an attempt to regain the air you'd lost during the kiss. your tormentor licked his lips, a new glint of what seemed to be lust in his gaze. "shit, I've been waiting so long to do that," he'd quietly huff out, crawling over to your figure and straddling your hips, taking the opportunity of you being temporarily immobile to his advantage.

"w-what? what do you mean, y-you've been waiting fo—" before you could finish your question, a high-pitched voice rang from the other side of the door.

"four more minutes!" she exclaimed, informing you and the guy now on top of you that three minutes had passed since you entered the room. he looked to be bummed out by the lack of time, his frame slightly slumping before he turned back to you.

"guess we'll have to make the most out of what's left then," he stated, placing his hands on both your shoulders to balance himself before beginning to move his hips, grinding down on your clothed cock. you let a hiss escape your mouth, too awestruck to do anything else. the amount of things that had happened in the past minute was too much, and you were still in the process of taking it all in to really give a proper reaction.

something that did stick in your mind, though, was that this was wrong on so many levels. he was your bully. your harasser. one of the people who actively partook in making your life a living hell. yet, all of that went out the window as you felt yourself hardening through your pants. 

you'd deal with the rational side of this situation later. right now, he was rubbing his ass down deliciously on your dick, and you'll be damned if you take his willingness to please you for granted.

you got a firm grasp of his hips, tightly holding them as you threw your head back. using your hands, you maneuvered him to move faster, leading the rhythm he was grinding himself down on you with. as small groans and sharp breaths left your mouth, you started mildly bucking your own hips upwards into his ass, trying to reach your high as soon as possible. 

one of your bullies' hands left your shoulder as he shoved it into his own pants, palming his cock at the same pace you were humping into him. he pressed his lips together in hopes of holding back any noises, but small whines and whimpers still managed to make their way past his mouth. seeing him touching himself while satisfying you made a knot start forming in the pit of your stomach, the feeling of your approaching high making itself known.

"f-fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned out, your thrusts becoming more needy and irregular. you let a low moan leave your lips as you reached your orgasm, a wet and sticky mark forming on your pants. a few seconds later the boy on top of you let out a strained squeal of his own, closing his eyes as his peak flowed through him as well.

after you two both eased down from your high, he went to lay his upper body on you, head falling into the crook of your neck as he tried regulating his breaths. 

"wow," you muttered, glancing over at him. you wanted to say more, but now that the moment was over, you weren't aware if saying anything would be appropriate. for all you knew, this was a one-time deal for him to get his rocks off, and he was regretting it now that he was post-orgasm. 

you didn't get to dwell much on that train of thought, though, as you heard a knock at the door that startled both of you to your feet. "time's up!" cheered the same voice from before, the door being swung open before she even finished her phrase.

the moment the girl went to continue talking after opening the door, she immediately cut herself off. silence filled the room as everyone stared at you and the other male. the circle of people on the floor scanned both of your bodies, from the disheveled hair to your red faces to the slight stain in your pants. it was blatantly obvious that something had happened in that closet.

the tension in the room could be cut with a knife, completely unbearable even though nothing was being said. as soon as you stepped outside of the closet, you cleared your throat before heading towards the door. 

"I—um, I just remembered I need to go do something. sorry for the sudden leave." you murmured out, booking it for the door as the half-assed excuse left your lips. what you did notice, however, before closing the door to the room as you exited it, was a certain look that all your bullies directed towards the guy you'd been spending the seven minutes with. it was something so different from what you'd ever seen in their eyes.

if you were none the wiser, you'd have thought it was envy. 

────────────────────────────────────────────

[suunani]

make it right [ mark lee ]

mark is crying and fucking his apology into you after a stupid fight.

❛ content 1.4k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, bottom!male reader, established relationship, make-up sex, crying during sex, unprotected sex (p in a), creampie, mark is like really really pathetic, slight aftercare.

"just say you still want me, please, just say it," mark gasped, the words cracking in the middle as he pushed deep, burying himself inside you to the hilt.

the argument from earlier still hummed in the air, a live wire tangled in the sheets.

your back was against the mattress, mark’s weight a heavy, familiar anchor. you were still furious, your jaw tight, arms braced against his chest — not really pushing him away, but not pulling him close either. you could easily feel every ragged breath he took, see the wet gleam on his cheeks even in the dim bedroom light.

mark was a mess. a beautiful, fucking hot mess.

his black hair stuck to his sweaty forehead, damp strands falling into those dark pretty brown eyes that were usually so sharp, so assured.

right now they were wide, pleading, and swimming with tears that kept spilling over.

mark moved again, a slow, grinding roll of his hips that made you see stars despite your anger, the thick, full sensation of him stretching you perfectly, maddeningly.

"you feel—oh my god, you always feel like this," he choked out, his voice raw. "like heaven. i'm so stupid. i'm so, so stupid, baby."

you didn't answer, you simply let out a sharp breath as he pulled back and thrust in again, harder this time, the force of it jolting you up the bed.

the slap of skin, the wet, tight sound of him moving inside you — god, it was obscenely loud. your own traitorous body arched, a low moan pulled from your throat. it felt too good. unfairly good. mark’s desperate need was a tangible thing, radiating from his overheated skin, trembling in the hands that cradled your face.

"i can't... i can't lose this," mark sobbed, bending down to press his forehead to yours. his tears dripped onto your face, mingling with the sweat. "i can't lose you. please."

mark’s lips naturally found yours for a salty, clumsy kiss, that was more shared breath than anything. you kissed him back because it was instinct, because his mouth was soft and desperate and you knew its shape better than your own. mark moaned into it, a pathetic, broken sound that vibrated against your lips.

your boyfriend kissed you like he was dying of thirst, licking into your mouth, his tongue sweeping over yours before he broke away to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, your throat.

"i'm sorry," he whispered against your pulse point, his hips never stopping their relentless, deep rhythm. each thrust was a punctuation to his plea. "i'm so sorry. for what i said. for being a prideful idiot. i didn't mean any of it. you know i didn't, right? tell me you know."

you grabbed a fistful of mark’s hair, not gentle, and pulled his head back to look at him.

"you meant it when you said it," you bit out, but your voice wavered as he angled his hips just right, brushing that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl.

mark winced, but not from the pain in his scalp.

"i was so fucking scared, baby. i'm scared. ‘cause you could have anyone, and i..." mark drove into you again, his body shuddering. "i just need you so fucking much. and it makes me crazy."

his confession was a live thing between you. mark began to move faster, losing the controlled, deep rolls for something more frantic, more needy. the bedframe knocked a steady rhythm against the wall.

his arms hooked under your knees, pushing your legs back, opening you up wider, letting him sink even deeper. the new angle made you cry out, your own resolve crumbling under the sheer physical onslaught.

"fuck—yes. like that," you heard yourself gasp, the anger morphing into a sharp, clawing want.

and mark seized on it like a lifeline.

"like that? you like that, baby? tell me. tell me what you like. i’ll do anything," he was babbling, his words slurring together with each thrust. "you're so perfect. so tight for me. taking me so good, fuck, even when you hate me."

"i don't— i don’t hate you," you grunted, the admission torn from you.

your hands slid from your boyfriend hair down to his shoulders, feeling the powerful muscles bunch and release with every movement. he was everywhere — his scent, his sweat, the sound of his ragged sobs and pretty moans filling the room.

"you don't?" he cried, his rhythm faltering for a second with sheer emotion. "say it again. please."

you didn't. instead, you pulled him down into another kiss, sucking his lower lip, biting it gently.

mark whimpered, a high, needy sound that went straight to your cock, trapped and leaking between your stomachs. the friction was delicious, exhilarating.

his hands were everywhere, too — gripping on your hips so hard you'd certainly bruise later, skimming up your sides, thumbing over your nipples until you arched with a sharp cry. mark worshiped your body with a frantic, tearful intensity, as if trying to memorize you with his hands, his mouth, his cock.

"i'm gonna make it right, baby," he promised, his voice thick. "i'm gonna make you feel so good you forget why you were ever mad at me."

mark was close. you could feel it in the tightening of his balls against you, in the way his thrusts became shorter, more jerky, less coordinated. the pathetic, beautiful sounds he made were constant now; whimpers, sobs, your name choked out like a desperate prayer.

"look at me," you demanded, your own control fraying.

the coil in your gut was winding impossibly tight, fed by his desperation and the flawless, brutal pace of his hips.

mark obeyed instantly, his dark eyes locking onto yours. they were wrecked, red-rimmed, overflowing.

"i love you," he rasped, each word a thrust. "i love you so fucking much. i'm so sorry. let's not fight ever again. please. i can't stand it."

it was the raw, unfiltered misery in his voice, the complete vulnerability, that finally shattered the last of your anger. you saw it — the real fear, the love that was so big it terrified him.

your hands came up to cradle his pretty face, thumbs swiping at the endless tears.

"fuck—mark," you moaned, and his name was both a surrender and an absolution.

that was all it took.

mark’s orgasm hit him like a seizure. a broken, gasping cry tore from his throat as he slammed into you one last time, hilting himself, and held there.

you felt the hot, pulsing rush of his release flooding deep inside you, wave after wave, intense and seemingly endless. mark shook violently through it, his face crumpling, tears falling in earnest as he sobbed through the peak, his hips making tiny, involuntary jerks as he emptied himself completely inside you.

the sensation of mark coming, so deep and so much, the visual of him utterly falling apart above you, tipped you over the edge right after.

your own climax ripped through you with a silent, breathless intensity, your back bowing off the bed as you spilled between your stomachs, the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful, whitespotting your vision.

mark collapsed on top of you, a dead weight, but you welcomed it. his face was buried in the crook of your neck, his wet lashes tickling your skin. he was still crying, soft, hiccupping sobs now, his body occasionally trembling. you could feel his heart hammering against your chest, a frantic echo of your own.

he was still inside you, softening, but he made no move to pull out, just clung to you.

for long minutes, the only sounds in the room were mark’s slowing tears, the ragged pull of his breath, and the slick, intimate sound of your joined bodies.

slowly, you ran your hands up and down his damp back, over the knobs of his spine. mark nuzzled deeper into your neck, placing a soft, wet kiss there.

"i'm sorry," he whispered again, voice hoarse and shot.

"i know," you said quietly, softly pressing your lips to his temple. "it's okay."

mark finally lifted his head, his face puffy, eyes swollen, but his gaze was clear, focused solely on you. he looked ruined — beautifully so — and utterly yours.

mark shifted gently, slipping out of you, and you both winced at the sensitivity, the sudden emptiness. he didn't go far, he simply rolled to your side and immediately gathered you against him, your back to his chest, his arms locking around you like iron bands, one hand splayed possessively over your stomach.

He kissed your shoulder, then the nape of your neck.

"really okay?" he murmured, his voice small.

you intertwined your fingers with his over your stomach, feeling the sticky proof of his desperation cooling on your skin. the fight was long gone, drained away, leaving only the deep, weary truth of how much you needed each other. you squeezed his hand.

"just... don't be an idiot again."

🦇 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗴𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 <𝟯 !!

𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗌 (•˕ •マ.ᐟ

[suunani]

can’t stop moving [ mark lee ]

mark breaks down and shows you how much he’s wanted this all along.

❛ content 4.1k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, bottom! male reader, desperate loser! mark, voice kink, big dick! mark implied, begging, masturbation, mark is so down bad, unprotected sex (p in a), praise kink, creampie, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, edging, overstimulation, aftercare.

━━ ( part one )

mark barely had time to clean himself up before the doorbell rang.

his hand was still shaky as he tossed the tissues in the trash. his thighs were trembling. cum was drying sticky against his skin, and he hadn’t even caught his breath, much less come down from the high of what just happened : you’d caught him.

you knew he was jerking off to your voice, and instead of getting weird about it, you’d asked if you could come over. the second your words hit his ears — “can i come over?” — he’d said yes. without hesitation nor shame. just yes, yes, please, because mark didn’t care anymore.

he’d wanted you for too long.

and now you were here. for him.

he opened the door and you were standing there, slightly flushed from the heat, wearing a hoodie you always wore when you came over to hang, casual like this was any other night. except it wasn’t. you weren’t looking at him like his best friend anymore.

you looked at him like you wanted him.

mark inhaled hardly. his heart was racing again like he hadn’t already blown his load ten minutes ago.

“hey,” you said, voice just a little too low, like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

mark backed up to let you in, suddenly hyper-aware of how messy his hair looked, how red his ears probably were. he could still feel the throb in his cock, the need that hadn’t gone away.

you stepped in, shut the door behind you, and gave him a look that made his knees nearly buckle.

“you—uh—” he start, his voice cracking embarrassingly. mark scratched the back of his neck, eyes darting to yours. “you’re actually here.”

you raised a brow, stepping into his space like it was nothing. “you didn’t think i’d come?”

mark laughed nervously. his throat was dry.

“i thought—i don’t know. you heard me—”

“i did,” you said. your voice dropped again. that voice. mark felt it in his spine. “and you sounded so hot.”

his breath caught.

you reached up and touched his jaw, gentle but so deliberate it completely short-circuited his brain.

“mark,” you murmured, tilting your head a little. “was that the first time you touched yourself to me?”

mark froze.

his ears went bright red. he couldn’t lie. not to you. not when you were this close, looking at him like that.

“…no.”

your hand slid into his hair. “thought so.”

mark made a sound. it was somewhere between a whimper and a laugh. “you’re evil.”

you leaned in, letting your lips ghost over his ear.

“you wanna fuck me, mark?”

mark audibly gasped.

his whole body tensed. his cock twitched painfully in his sweats — already half-hard again and it hadn’t even been fifteen minutes.

“y-yeah,” he coaxed, like it physically hurt him to admit it. “fuck, i want to. i—have for so long. you have no idea.”

you smiled against his cheek. “then show me.”

mark forgot how to breathe.

something cracked open in his chest — every wall, every single dumb little fear he’d held onto all these years spend with you — it just crumbled the second you said that. like you were inviting him to do what he’d only ever dreamed about with his hand wrapped around his cock and your name deep in his throat.

his fingers twitched. his breath hitched. and then, finally, he kissed you.

it was hard and desperate.

he kissed you like he needed you to breathe.

mark’s hands flew to your face, pulling you into him with a guttural sound, as if something primal had taken over. his lips molded to yours in an instant — open-mouthed, breathless, full of hunger. he tilted his head and groaned when you kissed him back, deep and slow, your tongue meeting his like you’d done this a thousand times.

it was unreal how good you tasted, how naturally you moved with him — like your mouths were made to find each other. tongues sliding, lips parting. wet, hot, and so perfect. mark felt drunk on it.

you cupped the back of his neck, dragging your fingers into his hair, and he let out a soft cry against your lips. like some kind of pent-up loser finally getting touched. but mark couldn’t help it. your hands were on him. your voice was in his ear. he was already hard again, straining in his pants, so sensitive it was almost unbearable.

he pulled you back with a gasp, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged.

“fuck, you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“i think i do,” you whispered, your fingers trailing under his shirt. “you’re burning up.”

mark clenched his jaw, eyes instantly fluttering shut. his skin was buzzing. you dragged your palms over his chest and stomach, slow and teasing — learning him. you’d barely even touched him properly and he already felt like he was gonna snap.

your voice, low and calm, cut through the haze.

“show me.”

mark blinked. “what?”

you stepped back just a little, just enough to look him in the eye. “what you do when i’m not here. when you think about me. i wanna see.”

his whole body shuddered.

the embarrassment was instant, but so was the heat. his throat closed, and mark looked at you like he couldn’t believe what you’d just said to him, then he glanced down at himself — already tenting his sweats again, already leaking, already so pathetic.

“you’re serious,” he breathed, voice cracking.

you nodded, sitting slowly on the edge of his bed.

“i want to see what gets you off when you’re thinking about me. everything. don’t hide anything.”

mark’s knees nearly gave out.

he’d imagined this. god, he’d imagined this — but this wasn’t a fantasy anymore. you were right here. watching him. wanting him. mark inhaled hard, backing up until the backs of his legs hit his desk chair.

his palms were sweating.

“you’re gonna watch me?” he whispered.

“i’m not gonna stop watching,” you said, voice thick, steady. “now take it off. let me see you.”

mark let out a shaky breath. he couldn’t believe all of this was really happening. his hands went to the hem of his hoodie, and he pulled it over his head, dropping it carelessly. then his sweats — slowly, his fingers dragging down the waistband until they pooled around his ankles. his cock sprang up, flushed red, already wet at the tip and sensitive as hell.

he heard you exhale. a quiet curse under your breath.

mark’s chest heaved. he looked down at himself, then back at you. his voice was barely a whisper.

“…you always make me this hard.”

you didn’t say anything. you just looked at him as if he was the only thing in the world worth seeing.

so he sat. slowly. on the chair. kegs spread.

and mark started touching himself — just like he did when you weren’t around.

he spat into his palm, wrapped it around his cock, and let out the softest, neediest moan. “fuck—”

it was too much already. his fingers glided over the head, teasing it the way he always did, using the slick from his tip to stroke slowly and tightly. he was sensitive — so sensitive from cumming not long ago — and the way you were watching him made every nerve light up.

“this is what i think about,” he murmured. his hips jerked up into his own fist. “your voice—fuck—i always start with your voice…”

you shifted on the bed, visibly hard too now, breathing shallow. mark dragged his thumb under the head and whined loudly.

“i think about you saying my name. all soft. all fucking pretty. like you did on the phone.”

he looked at you then — eyes wide, pupils blown, mouth open. he looked wrecked already.

“want me to talk you through it?” you said, voice hoarse, hand moving to your own lap.

he groaned. “please…”

you got up slow, too slow, and crossed the room like you were trying to kill him with every step.

mark couldn’t stop staring at you. your face. your mouth. your hand where it pressed against your pants, stroking yourself through the fabric. you sat on his lap — not on the chair, on him — one knee sliding to either side of his thighs, your weight grounding him completely. his breath hitched. his cock pulsed against your stomach where it was caught between your bodies.

you leaned in, lips brushing his ear.

“just like that,” you whispered. “don’t stop touching yourself. i wanna hear how you sound.”

mark choked on a moan.

he was already panting, fist slick on his cock as he jerked himself off under you. your warmth, your voice — it was like pouring gasoline on fire. his body was trembling, too sensitive, too close.

and then… then you touched him.

your fingers brushed his wrist, guiding his hand just a little tighter. then you slipped lower. past his hand. you ran your fingers down the length of his cock (his whole body jolted) then cupped his balls gently, like you already knew what he liked. mark gasped, his head falling back against the chair, neck arched, mouth wide open.

“f–fuck—fuck, don’t—don’t stop,” he whimpered, so loud it didn’t sound like him.

your mouth was right against his ear now. “you sound so fucking hot when you moan like that, mark. you ever jerk off that loud when you’re alone? huh?”

he groaned, hips jerking up into his own fist. “no—fuck, no—only when i’m thinking about you—only when i’m pretending you’re here—”

“good,” you whispered. “because i want all of it now. wanna see how much you want me.”

mark was falling apart.

he didn’t even care anymore how much noise he was making. his moans spilled out of him like they had a mind of their own — high, choked, desperate sounds every time your fingers slid up and teased the underside of his shaft, or when your other hand brushed over his nipples, barely, just enough to make him jolt again.

mark was leaking like crazy, his cock flushed red and throbbing, veins thick, twitching in his grip. it felt so fucking good — but it wasn’t enough. he needed more. he needed you.

he looked at you, eyes glassy,m and lips wet.

“i—fuck—i can’t—”

you kissed him.

hot and open-mouthed, swallowing every noise, licking into him as if you wanted to taste his begging. oh, and mark completely lost it. he broke the kiss with a gasp, hips grinding up into your stomach now, frantic and uncontrollable.

“please,” he panted, eyes wide, devastated. “i need to be inside you—i need it—i can’t—i wanna fuck you so bad—please let me—let me—please—”

you dragged your thumb up the head of his cock. he sobbed out.

“then fuck me,” you breathed, eyes dark. “i’m not gonna stop you.”

mark almost came right then and there.

his whole body stuttered forward.

as if his brain stopped working and his body just moved, his hands fumbled at your waistband as he kissed you again. rougher this time, messier. your mouth parted for him like it belonged to him, and he kissed you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. teeth clashing, tongues sliding, lips swollen from how hard he wanted you.

you let him strip you, let him really see you, and mark couldn’t even look away.

his hands were shaking as he took off the few rest of his clothes, cock already flushed and leaking, curved thick toward his stomach. you stared at it. at him. you reached down and brushed your fingers up the underside, gentle and slow, and mark almost folded.

“fuck,” he gasped, clutching your wrist. “don’t—fuck, don’t do that—i’ll cum, i swear to god—”

you just smirked, teasing. “you’re so sensitive.”

“i’ve been hard for an hour,” he said, voice cracking. “and you’re just—you’re here—i can’t—i can’t think straight—”

he pushed your legs open with his trembling hands, mouth parted as he stared down at your hole. he’d dreamed about this. every night, every time he jerked off alone in this room — it was always this. you, splayed out under him. letting him have you.

he lined himself up, rubbing his cockhead over you first, spreading the slick. your breath hitched. he looked up at you, pupils blown, lips wet.

“you sure?” he asked, barely a whisper.

you nodded, voice just as soft. “i want all of it.”

that broke him.

mark slowly pushed in, inch by inch, and the second he breached you, everything left his body in a single moan.

“oh my god—” he choked, eyes rolling back. “fuck, you’re tight—you’re so fucking tight—”

your hands gripped his biceps, grounding you as he buried himself deeper. your walls clung to him like you didn’t want to let go of him. mark couldn’t breathe. couldn’t move for a second — just stayed there, fully inside, jaw clenched and whole body shaking.

his voice was already a mess. “you feel—fuck—you feel insane, i can’t—”

“move,” you murmured, breathless. “please, mark. i want you to.”

no sooner said than done.

mark pulled out a little and snapped deeply back in. you gasped, your head tilting back, and mark watched every second of it. the way your mouth dropped open, the way your back arched slightly. he memorized it.

and then he started fucking you.

he lost his rhythm almost immediately — way too overwhelmed, too full of it — but god, it felt so fucking good. every time he thrust in, your body squeezed him tighter, like you didn’t want him to stop. the slick sounds of skin against skin, your breathing, the way you moaned his name. it pushed him over the edge.

“you feel—fuck—you feel like you were made only for me,” he babbled, thrusting faster now, voice raw. “i can’t—i can’t stop—don’t want to stop—please don’t tell me to stop—”

you weren’t saying anything. you were just moaning, wrecked and flushed and gripping his shoulders hardly, whispering things like 'mark, yes' and 'just like that' and it made him go feral. he leaned down, pressing his chest to yours, forehead to your temple.

his cock was throbbing deep inside you. he could feel your heartbeat in your walls, feel the way you clenched every time he moaned too loud.

“your voice,” he gasped. “say something—say anything, please—i’ll cum, just say something—”

you grabbed his face, pulled him in close, and whispered against his lips :

“you’re fucking me so good, mark.”

mark let out a soft plea.

a broken, high sound that cracked out of him like a sob. his thrusts turned frantic — sloppy, deep, and fast — hips slamming into you as his body chased that edge he’d been hovering on for so long.

“you’re so deep,” you moaned, legs locking around him. “i can feel you everywhere. you’re perfect—so big, so good—fuck, mark—”

his body locked. everything tensed, his breath hitched — and finally he begged.

“can i—fuck, please, can i cum inside? please—please let me—wanna fill you up—need to—”

your answer was instant. “y-yes. do it. give it to me.”

mark snapped.

he let out a sound that didn’t even sound human — half cry, half moan — and slammed into you one final time. his cock pulsed, deep and hard, and he came so hard he couldn’t breathe. warmth spilled inside you in thick, desperate pulses. he kept grinding through it, kept whimpering against your neck.

“fuck, fuck, i love you—fuck, i love your voice—i love your body—i can’t stop—can’t—” he panted, still moving, overstimulated and desperate to stay inside you.

you kissed his cheek, your own breath catching, body twitching from how deep he still was.

mark was shaking.

his thighs trembled. his fingers dug into your skin. his cock was still buried deep inside you, softening slowly, but it wasn’t quite enough. he still felt like he needed more. he couldn’t stop kissing you — jaw, lips, throat, shoulder — anything he could reach. he wanted to live inside this moment forever.

but his body wouldn’t let him rest.

mark was still moving — barely so — just little, slow grinds of his hips against you. his cock had softened inside you, but not for long. not when you were still warm, still gripping him, still making the softest sounds under your breath every time he shifted just right. he couldn’t pull out. he wouldn’t.

“i’m still—fuck, i’m still hard,” he whispered, voice raw, forehead pressed to your cheek. “i don’t even—how is that possible—”

you laughed tiredly, quiet and breathless, hands dragging over his damp back. “maybe because you’ve been edging for so long.”

mark let out a sound like a broken sigh, hips twitching again. “don’t even joke—you have no idea how many times i’ve—thought about this—about you—your voice—your mouth—”

he shifted again, and his cock — sticky and slick with your mixed release — dragged against your walls, half-hard but growing fast. he gasped.

“fuck—you’re still so tight, i can’t—” he kissed you again, messy, uncoordinated, and so desperate. “let me stay inside. please. i’ll be good. i’ll go slow. i just need—i need you, please—”

you cupped his face, guiding his eyes to meet yours.

“mark.”

his heart stuttered.

“you’re still inside me,” you said, gentle, voice low and steady. “and i don’t want you to pull out either.”

he nearly melted on the spot.

“oh my god,” he breathed, biting down on a moan. his hips bucked once, involuntary. “say more. i beg you. i need you to keep talking—need to hear your voice—your voice makes me so fucking hard—”

you leaned in, your mouth brushing his ear, and said :

“then fuck me again. if you need it so bad, show me.”

he shivered — a full-body twitch — his cock jerking back to life inside you, already thickening again.

“oh fuck, okay—okay—i can do it, i can—” he stammered, voice so high and needy it barely sounded like him anymore. “just let me, just—please—”

he started thrusting again. slowly and carefully. like he was scared he’d break something in you if he went too fast — but still so deep. his cock was oversensitive, every nerve fried, every push into you making him moan just a little louder than before.

he couldn’t stop praising you.

“you’re perfect—fuck, you’re so perfect—i don’t even deserve you, i don’t—why are you letting me—why do you feel so good—”

you tightened your arms around his back. “because i want you, mark.”

he whimpered — an actual whimper — and buried his face in your neck.

“i’m gonna cum again,” he said, almost crying. “already—fuck, i can’t help it—i wanna fill you up again—please, let me—don’t kick me out—”

you rocked your hips up into him, slow andtorturous.

“you’re not going anywhere, mark. you’re staying inside me ‘til you’ve got nothing left.”

oh, that destroyed him.

he thrust harder, faster now, voice caught between gasping and sobbing.

“don’t say that—i’ll never stop—fuck, i’ll cum again—right now—i swear i will—”

“do it,” you moaned. “i want you to. inside me, again.”

and then he did. mark lost it.

again.

his whole body jerked forward, his hands gripping your sides like you were the only thing keeping him tethered. he moaned — a loud, broken moan — right into your mouth as he kissed you, sloppy and wet and desperate. his cock pulsed deep inside you, twitching violently as he came again, so much for someone who’d already cum just before.

it spilled hot into you, and you gasped beneath him, your own body seizing up, overstimulated and trembling.

mark didn’t stop kissing you.

his lips pressed to yours again and again, moaning loudly into each one, his breath catching, body twitching with aftershocks. he was gasping through it — every nerve frayed, hips stuttering forward as if he couldn’t stop even if he tried to.

“fuck, you’re amazing,” he babbled, half-sobbing into your mouth. “you’re so warm—so good—i never felt anything like this—i can’t—i love the way you feel, i swear to god i’m gonna die—”

you were panting too, hands gripping his shoulders like you needed to hold on for dear life. your legs were trembling around his waist, and he could feel how raw your body was under his.

and still, he stayed inside you.

he couldn’t stop.

“did i—fuck—did i do good?” he whispered, breathless, barely coherent. “please tell me i did good, please—please, i just wanted—i wanted to be good for you—”

you grabbed his face with both hands, pulled him down into a kiss, slower this time — messy but full of heat. mark melted into it. moaned again. whined.

“you did so good, mark,” you say into his lips. “you fucked me so good.”

mark exhaled a trembling moan.

“i love your voice,” he said, barely a whisper, his forehead pressed to yours. “i think i’m in love with you—i swear—fuck, i’d do anything for you. uou could ruin me.”

you chuckled, still breathless, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “i think i already did.”

mark quivered — hips giving one last twitch before he collapsed fully against your chest, cock still inside you, still leaking, overstimulated and clinging to you like he never wanted to let go.

“i’m never pulling out,” he mumbled, dazed.

“you are gonna have to move eventually,” you murmured, lips in his hair.

“not yet,” he whispered. “just… please. just stay.”

and, of course, you did.

mark didn’t move for a long time.

your heartbeat was steady under his ear, your arms loose around his shoulders. everything was hot and sticky and still — your bodies tangled together in the low light of his room, chest to chest, skin damp with sweat, cum slowly dripping from between your legs.

he breathed you in.

slow, deep breaths that barely helped. he was still shaking. not from arousal this time — at least, not just that. it was the crash. the sheer emotional weight of what just happened. he’d wanted you for so long and now — god. now you were here. you’d let him inside. you’d touched him like you meant it. said his name like you felt it.

mark blinked hard against your skin. he still hadn’t pulled out. he couldn’t.

“…you okay?” he whispered, voice hoarse and soft, barely above a breath.

your hum rumbled through your chest.

“yeah. just… tired.”

mark lifted his head, just enough to look at you. your eyes were half-lidded, your lashes damp. you looked completely blissed out — ruined in the best way — and so beautiful it made his chest ache.

“was it too much?” he asked, quietly, his brows drawn with worry. “i didn’t mean to—i got carried away, and—fuck, i should’ve gone slower, i’m so—”

you reached up and brushed his hair back, fingers light against his temple.

“mark,” you said gently, “you were perfect.”

his breath caught.

you didn’t even say it with that teasing lilt you always used. it was real and sincere. you were telling the truth.

mark looked like he might cry.

“…okay,” he whispered, nodding too fast. “okay. just… wanted to take care of you. i still—i can…”

he slowly eased himself out, careful not to hurt you. he winced when he saw the mess — his cum leaking from you, still thick and warm, smeared between your thighs.

“fuck, sorry—sorry, that’s so—i’ll clean you up, just stay there—don’t move—”

he scrambled off the bed on wobbly legs, tugging his hoodie back on halfway, not even realizing it was inside out. he disappeared into the bathroom, and you could hear the rush of water, the frantic shuffle of him tearing paper towels off the roll, then muttering :

“idiot—no, get the cloth, soft, soft, soft—”

he came back with warm water and the softest towel he could find.

“can i?” he asked, eyes flicking to yours, hand hovering over your thigh.

you nodded.

he was so gentle. ridiculously gentle. like you’d break in his hands if he wiped too hard. he cleaned you carefully, barely touching where you were most sore, his face flushed red and eyes focused like it was the most important task in the world.

“you’re still leaking,” he mumbled, more to himself than you. “sorry. i… i came so much.”

“you really did,” you said, smirking a little.

his ears turned bright pink.

you touched his cheek, thumb brushing the corner of his mouth. “hey. you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

mark leaned into your palm.

“i’m not. i just…” his voice dropped to a whisper. “i’ve never felt that much. with anyone. ever.”

your fingers slipped into his hair.

“me neither.”

he looked at you like you’d just given him the entire world in his hands.

you tugged at his hoodie gently. “come back in bed?”

he nodded. too fast. as if he was scared you’d change your mind. he tossed the towel aside and crawled in next to you, pulling the covers over both your bodies, wrapping himself around you instantly.

mark kissed your shoulder. then your neck. then your cheek. you sighed into him, content.

“you’re shaking,” you murmured, eyes fluttering closed.

“sorry,” he whispered. “don’t think my body knows how to calm down yet.”

you nudged your nose against his.

“you can calm down now.”

he nodded again, slower this time. his hand found yours under the blanket, and he laced your fingers together like it was instinct.

“i’m so in love with you,” he said, voice so quiet it barely registered.

you squeezed his hand.

“good,” you breathed, drifting. “because you’re not getting rid of me.”

mark smiled into your skin.

“never wanted to.”

[suunani]

orgasm.exe [ choi soobin ]

who knew that soobin had a big brain and an even bigger surprise?

❛ content 3.8k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, power bottom! male reader, big dick virgin! soobin, nerdy dirty talk, pathetic nerd! soobin, unprotected sex (p in a), praise kink, size kink, soobin talks a looot during it, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, riding, creampie, aftercare, requested here!

you didn’t expect the campus library’s most reclusive, awkward math genius to have a voice that soft.

“i brought the notes,” he mumbled, holding up a neat binder like a peace offering. his long fingers gripped it too tightly, knuckles pale. “sorry i’m late. i—i was recalculating the sample sizes in the… ah, anyway. hi.”

choi soobin.

the guy who never made eye contact with anyone unless forced. always sitting in the back row, muttering answers under his breath that were always annoyingly right. you’d caught him staring at you in lectures a few times — like full on, wide eyed, glasses slipping down his nose, inhaling your soul kind of staring — but he always looked away like he’d been caught watching porn in public.

and now, here he was. standing in the doorway of your dorm room, two textbooks under one arm, a thick bulge in his jeans he clearly didn’t know how to hide, and that same look on his face.

like his body couldn’t decide if it was devotion or panic making his stomach flip.

you stepped aside to let him in.

“make yourself comfortable.”

soobin hesitated.

his eyes did a full scan of your room — bookshelf, unmade bed, pair of briefs on the floor — and his ears immediately flushed pink. still, he nodded, set his things on your desk, and sat in the desk chair like it was a job interview. posture rigid. shoulders hunched to make himself smaller. legs spread too wide because… well. because he was too tall to sit normally in anything.

you couldn’t help it — you smiled.

“you ever been in someone else’s dorm before?” you teased lightly.

he blinked behind his glasses. “no.”

“no?”

he shook his head. “never got invited.”

you leaned against the edge of the desk, close enough that your thigh nearly brushed his knee.

“so i’m your first?”

soobin’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

“in… in a way, yes.”

that look was back again — staring up at you like you were made of fire. like he couldn’t decide whether to run or reach out and touch.

god, he was so awkward. and sweet. and kind of unbelievably hot in that tall, twitchy, no social skills kind of way. you let the silence stretch for a moment. watched how his eyes kept flicking to your mouth, then down, then back up like he was doing mental calculations.

you decided to cut the tension. “you really been staring at me all semester just to help me pass stats?”

soobin looked mortified.

“i—what?! i wasn’t—i mean, i was, but not like—it’s not just that, i just—”

you raised a brow, smirking. “relax, genius. i’m flattered.”

“…you are?”

“mmh,” you leaned in, voice dropping just a little. “you’re cute when you’re nervous.”

his breath hitched. visibly. like his brain short-circuited.

“i—you’re extremely—i mean statistically—wait no, i meant subjectively—” he stopped himself, cheeks going pink. “sorry. i talk too much when i’m… you know.”

“turned on?”

soobin looked like his bones had given up and the chair was the only thing keeping him upright.

“i think i like when you talk too much.”

he didn’t move. just watched, pupils dilated, chest rising and falling shallowly beneath his sweater vest. he had no idea what to do with his hands, which made you grin as you stepped between his knees.

he froze when your hand touched his thigh.

“wait—” he breathed.

“you okay?” you asked, instantly softening. “i can stop. i want you to tell me if anything feels off.”

“no! i mean—no, don’t stop,” soobin said quickly, voice high and cracking. “i’ve just… i’ve never… i haven’t—ever done anything.”

you nodded. “i figured.”

“is that—bad?”

you tilted your head, brushing your fingers along the edge of his jaw. “why would that be bad?”

“i don’t know,” he said quietly. “you’re… you seem like you know what you’re doing. and i—i don’t. not even a little bit. i’m probably gonna be terrible and come in like thirty seconds and say something stupid about newton’s laws of motion and ruin the whole thing.”

you huffed a laugh. “well, now i kind of want you to say something about newton’s laws of motion while you’re inside me.”

soobin’s whole soul left his body.

you stepped closer, gently guiding his hand to your waist. “you’re not going to ruin anything. you’re adorable. you’re hot. and i want you.”

he blinked up at you like he couldn’t believe this was real. like any moment, he was going to wake up alone in his bed with a hard-on and the smell of his own hand lotion.

but it was real. you were straddling his lap now, and you could feel it — so thick, so hot, so big under his jeans, pressing between your legs like a damn secret weapon. you gasped a little as it shifted under you.

“…god,” you whispered.

“i’m—sorry?”

you leaned in close, lips just at his ear. “why didn’t you tell me you were big?”

“i—what?” he squeaked.

you rolled your hips slowly against it. “that’s not normal big. that’s fuck-me-up big.”

soobin whimpered. whimpered.

“i read online that size doesn’t correlate with pleasure,” he blurted, voice desperate. “but i—i can do angles! i’ve read about—about pressure points! i know about the anterior wall, and—and—”

you kissed him.

not just to shut him up. though that was part of it.

you kissed him because his lips were full and trembling and begging for it. because he deserved to feel something other than nerves buzzing through him. because no one had ever kissed him like he was worth losing control over, and fuck, he was.

soobin gasped against your mouth like it shorted his circuits. like he’d only ever imagined this behind closed doors, in the quiet dark, with his hand on his cock and your name on his tongue.

his hands finally settled on your hips. gentle. awkward. like he was afraid of squeezing too hard, like you’d shatter. you deepened the kiss, rocking into him a little more, grinding deliberately on that massive bulge straining against his jeans.

he groaned into your mouth.

“i—” soobin gasped, breaking the kiss, his lips already flushed and wet. “i need to—oh my god—i think i’m gonna come—”

you smiled, panting softly against his mouth. “not yet. you’re gonna come inside me.”

his head dropped back against the chair like he’d been electrocuted. just that. just the promise of being inside you. his hips twitched involuntarily and the moan that left him was so guttural it made your stomach clench.

you leaned in close, whispering right against his throat.

“i’m gonna ride you until your brain falls out of your ears, soobin.”

he whimpered again. actually whimpered. arms limp at his sides like he couldn’t figure out how to move his own body. you kissed his jaw, then the corner of his mouth, slow and sweet.

“but you need to give me a second. gotta get myself ready for this.”

“r-ready?”

you moved off his lap, grabbing your lube from the drawer like it was just another night. but it wasn’t.

soobin was still panting, hard as fuck in his jeans, eyes locked to you like you were pulling the sun out of the sky. you climbed up onto your bed, knees spread as you pushed down your sweats and underwear in one single movement, letting your bare skin meet the cold sheets.

you met his gaze as you slicked your fingers.

he made a broken sound in his chest.

you smirked. “watch.”

and fuck, he did.

he watched like he’d never seen anything before. wide eyes, mouth open, fists clenched on his thighs.

you brought your fingers to your entrance, slow, teasing the rim with gentle pressure. a soft sigh slipped from you as you eased in the first knuckle. the burn was familiar, the stretch routine — but the way soobin was staring like you’d just parted the gates of heaven?

that was new.

“s-should i be helping?” he whispered, breathless.

“just sit there,” you breathed, adding more lube. “and think about how lucky you are.”

soobin made a sound like a gasped prayer. “i’m the luckiest man alive.”

you snorted, pressing the second finger in.

“holy—fuck, that’s so—beautiful,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “you’re stretching yourself open for me—me—”

you moaned, rolling your hips just slightly against your fingers, and his breath hitched like he’d been punched.

“i don’t—i don’t think i can—” soobin choked, grabbing at himself over his jeans with an urgency that was almost painful. “i’m gonna—oh god, fuck, i’m gonna come—”

you looked over just in time to see him jerk violently in the chair, hips snapping once, jaw going slack as he came untouched in his pants — loud, like something sacred had been ripped out of him. he moaned your name like he needed it to stay alive, biting down on his fist to muffle it, his thighs trembling under him.

you couldn’t stop the slow smirk that curled on your lips.

“wow.”

“i—” he gasped, face flushed, hair a mess, glasses skewed on his nose. “i’m—i’m so sorry—i didn’t mean to, i just—”

“you came just from watching me prep?” you tilted your head, biting your lip. “that’s hot.”

he looked like he was suffering. “but i—i wanted to—inside—i didn’t mean to—”

“relax, baby,” you murmured, reaching for him again. “you’ve got more in you. right?”

soobin moaned just from the nickname. moaned. and when you knelt between his knees again and started undoing his jeans, he looked like he was about to cry from gratitude.

you tugged them down, and your breath caught.

“…holy shit.”

soobin’s cock flopped free, half-soft and already twitching to get hard again.

it was big. way too big. heavy and flushed and thick even while soft. thick enough that you weren’t sure how the hell you were going to take all of it, even after prepping.

“no way you were walking around campus with this monster between your legs,” you muttered, almost reverently. “no wonder you’re so awkward. you’ve been hiding a weapon.”

soobin flushed all the way down to his collarbones. “i—it’s not— is it bad?”

“bad? soobin, it’s a miracle i’m not on my knees worshipping it right now.”

“i—i wouldn’t mind— i mean—”

you shot him a look, and he let out a tiny squeak, abruptly silencing himself.

“lay down,” you said, voice low, eyes never leaving his cock. “on the bed. i need to ride this thing before i lose my mind.”

he moved like his limbs didn’t belong to him, clambering up onto your bed with shaky hands and eyes wide, like he didn’t believe any of this was real.

his cock bobbed up fully hard again, heavy against his stomach. your mouth actually watered.

you climbed over him, settling with your knees on either side of his hips, and reached between you to guide the tip to your entrance. just resting it there was enough to make you gasp. soobin was shaking.

“w-wait,” he stammered. “what if i hurt you?”

you leaned down, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “you won’t. i want this. i want you.”

he moaned into the kiss, hands already grasping your hips like he couldn’t stop himself. you braced yourself, breathed deep, and started to sink down.

the stretch was unreal.

your mouth fell open, a strangled sound coming out as the blunt head of his cock pushed past your rim. the burn was immediate, intense. your body strained, trembling, trying to take him.

soobin was already gasping under you. “oh—fuck—you’re—you’re so—tight—are you okay?”

you nodded through gritted teeth. “y-yeah—just give me—fuck, soobin, you’re huge—”

“i’m sorry!”

“no—don’t you dare apologize.”

you forced yourself to breathe through it, relaxing bit by bit as you slid down inch by inch. his cock felt like it was punching up into your guts, thick and hot and impossible. you swore you could feel every vein, every twitch of his nerves through your walls.

soobin was losing his mind.

“y-you’re—taking me so well—how are you—god, you’re so perfect—you’re squeezing me so tight—i can’t—i can’t think—”

“you’re in so deep already—fuck, you’re ruining me—” you gasped, dropping lower with each word. “no one’s ever filled me like this—”

that set something off in him.

his grip on your hips tightened as he moaned, desperate and overwhelmed. “no one? no one’s ever—been this deep? you—you’re mine—mine—i’m the first to touch you like this?”

you were fully seated now, chest heaving, your walls fluttering around him, clenching hard as your body adjusted to the pressure. you leaned forward, palms flat on his chest, eyes fluttering.

“you’re fucking perfect,” you whispered. “so big, soobin, you’re stretching me open, you’re in my stomach—”

soobin let out a raw, high-pitched sound.

“i’m gonna die,” he whimpered. “i’m gonna die, and this is how i want to go—inside you—buried in you—”

you laughed breathlessly, rolling your hips experimentally. he arched off the bed, cock hitting something inside you that made your whole body spasm.

“oh—fuck—do that again,” you gasped.

“i—what did i do?—i need to do it again—i want to make you feel good—so good—”

you started to move, grinding slow and deep, dragging yourself up his length and then dropping down again, watching his jaw fall open, watching his whole face twist in pleasure.

“f-fuck—you’re so sensitive,” you moaned, bouncing slowly. “every little squeeze makes you whimper like a fucking virgin—”

“i am—” he gasped. “you’re my first—only— i never wanted anyone else—only you—”

god. his voice. the way he talked during sex — fast and nerdy and desperate, like he was rattling off theorems while losing his mind.

“i’m gonna make you feel so good,” he panted. “i know the angles—oh my god— i studied. watched videos—i read so many—so many forums. i wanted to be good for you—just for you—”

you moaned out loud, hips snapping faster, your cock bobbing untouched between you. the rhythm was too perfect. every time you came down, he bottomed out inside you, hitting so deep it felt like you were going to see stars.

“soobin,” you gasped. “you’re—fucking me so good—this is insane—you’re a goddamn natural—”

soobin whimpered so loud, like he’d just been told he won a nobel prize.

“i—i am?” he breathed.

“you’re splitting me open with this monster cock—fucking me so deep—you’re so good, soobin, fuck, you’re so good at this—”

“i love you,” he blurted.

you froze, breath caught in your throat, your thighs trembling around his hips, still so full of his cock you could feel it in your chest.

soobin’s face went pale like he’d just told a calculus joke in the wrong room. “i—i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to say it—i mean i did—but i wasn’t trying to pressure you or ruin this or make it weird, it just—came out—”

you grabbed his jaw with both hands, kissed him hard, and whispered against his lips :

“say it again while i come on your cock.”

he gasped like he couldn’t breathe. “i love you.”

you started to ride him again — so hard, so fast, now reckless — and the noise he made was somewhere between a sob and a scream.

“i love you,” he choked. “i love you, you’re so perfect, you’re—god, you feel so good—i wanna live in you—”

you moaned, grinding deep, his cock hitting your prostate so perfectly that your vision blurred.

“i’ve never—fuck—never felt this before,” you whimpered, bracing your hands on his chest. “you’re fucking ruining me, soobin—your cock is splitting me open—i can’t—”

soobin looked like he was about to cry. “y-you’re gonna make me cum again—please—please let me cum inside, i need to, i need to—”

you slammed down hard, clenching tight around him.

“do it—fill me up, soobin—wanna feel you spill inside me—wanna feel your cum drip out while you keep me full—”

he lost it.

with a sound like his entire soul ripped free of his body, soobin thrust up into you — so hard — hands locking around your waist, finally taking the rhythm for himself. and just like that, he was fucking you.

messy. desperate. and so, so deep.

“oh my god—” you cried out, body jolting with every sharp thrust. “soobin—fuck—what are you—”

“i’m sorry—i have to—i have to—” he gasped, voice breaking. “you feel so good—i can’t hold back—you’re letting me inside—i can’t stop—”

the dorm room filled with the sound of your bodies meeting — slick, obscene, overwhelming — the wet slap of skin on skin as he drove into you with trembling strength. he wasn’t graceful, wasn’t practiced either, but somehow it didn’t matter. he hit every spot. every time. like he’d mapped your body in his dreams.

his eyes were locked on your face, glasses still somehow halfway on, slipping down his nose with every thrust. you couldn’t look away. he looked like something primal had taken over — lips parted, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with need.

and the things he was saying—

“you’re so tight, i can feel you everywhere, every inch—i want to memorize this—i want to study you—i want to write theses about how perfect your body feels—”

you were shaking. open and gone.

your legs were jelly around him now, your arms shaking too much to hold you up. soobin noticed, and with a sudden strength you didn’t expect, he grabbed you around the waist and flipped you, pressing you down to the mattress and staying buried inside you with one deep, dizzying thrust.

you gasped, arching under him.

“soobin—!”

“i’m sorry,” he whispered, hovering above you, looking destroyed. “i—i need to stay inside. just for a little—just a little longer—i can’t let go yet—”

“then don’t,” you begged. “stay inside. fuck me, soobin—fuck me harder—”

and damn, he did.

he snapped his hips into you, relentless now, cock stretching you to the limit, his voice unraveling right in your ear as he chased the edge.

“i love you—i love you so much—i’ve loved you since the first lecture—i used to touch myself thinking about this—you—i didn’t even know what to do with my hands, i just knew i wanted you—”

your hand slid between your legs, desperate, stroking your own cock as he pounded you, your body singing from the inside out.

“don’t stop—don’t you dare stop—soobin, i’m gonna—fuck, i’m gonna—”

“come,” he gasped. “please, please come—want you to cum on my cock, want you to milk it—make me fill you—make me stay inside forever—”

and you did.

your whole body convulsed, cock pulsing in your hand, white-hot release spilling across your stomach and chest as your walls clenched down tight around him. you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently as you came harder than you had in years.

that was all it took.

soobin’s hands gripped your hips so tight you knew you’d bruise later. he slammed in once, twice, and then he was spilling inside you with a loud scream, cock throbbing so deep, filling you with so much cum you could feel it leaking already.

“i’m cumming—i’m cumming—i’m inside you—fuck, i love you—i love you i love you—”

soobin didn’t pull out.

he didn’t even move. he collapsed on top of you, trembling, still buried to the hilt, still moaning under his breath like he didn’t want it to end.

you lay there together — shaking, sweaty, breathless — and felt him press one soft, desperate kiss to your throat.

“can we…” he mumbled, voice small. “can we stay like this? just for a little while?”

you smiled, completely fucked out, one hand sliding into his damp hair.

“baby,” you whispered. “you can stay inside me as long as you want.”

soobin made a small, crushed noise against your throat. something between a whimper and a sigh of absolute, stupid bliss.

you could feel his cock twitch one last time inside you, still half-hard, still locked so deep it made your legs twitch again just from the memory. he didn’t move — he wouldn’t move. you’d melted into the mattress beneath him, boneless, body sticky with sweat and cum and love.

“…you okay?” you asked softly, fingers brushing through the damp hair at the back of his neck.

he nodded against your skin, barely moving. then a soft, muffled : “i can’t believe that happened.”

you laughed, shaky and hoarse. “you mean the part where you absolutely destroyed me?”

soobin groaned in embarrassment, shifting just slightly. his cock moved inside you and both of you gasped at the hypersensitivity. he stopped immediately, whimpering.

“i’m sorry—i don’t want to hurt you, i just— i don’t know what to do now. i—uh—do we need to clean up? should i get you water? or—wait, should i get a towel? are you cramping? oh my god, i think i’m still hard—”

“soobin,” you whispered, smile tugging at your lips until it almost hurt. “breathe.”

he paused, blinking down at you like a deer caught in your bedroom lamp.

you cupped his flushed cheek. “you did so good. i’m not dying. i’m just… full. of you. in every way.”

soobin’s eyes got glassy again.

“i made you feel good?”

“baby,” you whispered, pulling him down so your foreheads touched. “that was the best fuck of my life.”

he made a broken, overwhelmed sound and kissed you. messy, still desperate, but sweet. the kind of kiss that tasted like someone who couldn’t believe they were allowed to love you like this.

eventually, he softened inside you with a small whine and pulled out carefully. you hissed from the sensitivity, but he was so gentle — like you were glass.

he tried to get up to clean you, but you yanked him back by the wrist.

“later. just lie down with me.”

he slid in beside you, glasses crooked and slipping down his nose, wrapping those long arms around you like he didn’t ever want to let go. you curled against his chest, still sticky and sweaty, and neither of you cared.

soobin was quiet for a while. then :

“i didn’t even know it could feel like that,” he whispered. “i thought—i was scared i wouldn’t be good at it. that i’d mess it up. but you just…”

you kissed the center of his chest.

“i felt safe. and wanted. and i wanted you,” he said, voice cracking at the edges. “i’ve wanted you since forever. i just never thought i’d get to have this. to have you.”

you pressed your face into his collarbone, eyes fluttering closed.

“you have me now,” you murmured. “all of me, soobin.”

he held you tighter.

“…are you okay? like, physically?” he added in a panicked whisper after a beat. “i came a lot. like, a lot—”

you laughed so hard you wheezed. “soobin.”

“sorry! i just—i don’t want to give you, like, some weird cum-induced stomach cramp—”

“i am gloriously ruined,” you said, shifting closer. “and if you apologize for doing too good of a job one more time, i’m gonna make you fuck me again.”

soobin blushed deep red.

“…noted.”

[chososrightnipple]

clingy gojo who is rarely ever seen without his arms encircling your waist

clingy gojo who practically molds his body into yours because the feeling of your skin on his is more intoxicating than any drug

clingy gojo whose lips are constantly pressed against your neck or shoulders whenever he’s not yapping

clingy gojo whose favorite position to cuddle is laying on top of you and listening to your heartbeat

clingy gojo who can’t go a day without hearing your sweet voice

clingy gojo who leaves his clothes at your place because even if he’s not touching you, his sweatshirt is

clingy gojo who is tortured by the idea of losing you so he spends as much time as he can preventing that possibility

just clingy gojo <3

[suunani]

don’t stop talking [ mark lee ]

mark jerks off to his best friend’s voice during a late-night call.

❛ content 1.7k words, 18+ [ MDNI! ], explicit sexual content, male reader, best friend! mark, phone sex (mark’s side), voice kink, masturbation, reader is oblivious at first.

━━ ( part two )

mark’s hand was already slick.

it was shameful — he knew that — but by now, the thrill of shame was a part of the arousal.

mark sat hunched in bed, legs spread wide, phone pressed to one ear, breath shallow and uneven. the room was dim. just the soft blue glow of his laptop screen lighting his face, chest rising and falling like he’d just run a mile, bare thighs tense and trembling.

the call had barely even rung when you picked up, voice soft and just a little rough like you’d been napping.

“hey,” you said. “what’s up?”

mark’s stomach turned over. the second he heard your voice, his grip tightened, his rhythm stumbling on instinct. he sucked in a breath through his teeth.

“yo,” he rasped. his voice cracked. “you, uh… you busy?”

“nah. im just watching dumb videos. you okay? you sound weird.”

weird. yeah. that was one word for it.

he leaned forward a little, curling into himself, phone tucked between his cheek and shoulder while his other hand kept working over his cock. he was flushed to the neck, chest mottled with heat, pulse visible in his throat.

every time he heard your voice through the speaker, it was like a jolt right to his cock — he could feel the way your mouth moved, imagine how your lips would wrap around syllables if he were just a bit closer.

he bit his bottom lip, hard.

“i’m fine,” he said quickly, too quickly, then swallowed. “just… wanted to talk to you.”

he was already so close and that was humiliating in its own right.

your voice was casual, kind. “oh, yeah? what about?”

mark gritted his teeth, hips twitching upward into his palm. “i… i dunno. just missed your voice.”

a pause. you laughed softly.

“that’s weird. you literally saw me earlier today.”

“i know.”

mark closed his eyes, pressing the heel of his palm against the base of his cock to try and slow himself down. it didn’t help. he was throbbing. leaking. his stomach muscles clenched tight every time you said anything.

“but… i like hearing you.”

you went quiet for a beat. “you sure you’re okay? you sound kinda…”

“i’m fine,” mark said again, but his voice broke in the middle of it, strained and raspy, like he was talking through gritted teeth.

he had to pull the phone back a little as a soft, stuttered moan slipped out of him.

shit.

his hand kept moving — too fast now, driven by pure instinct. he tried to breathe slow, tried to pretend he wasn’t literally jerking off with your voice in his ear, but you weren’t helping.

you chuckled again. “you sound like you’re sweating or something. hot in your room?”

“y-yeah,” mark gasped, closing his fist tighter. “hot. so, so hot.”

his knuckles were turning white around the phone. he pressed it harder to his ear, needing to hear every note of your voice. his eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the wall behind his bed. sweat was already gathering under his arms, on his lower back, on the backs of his thighs. jus toes curled into the sheets, ankles twitching with every slick stroke of his hand.

you kept talking. talking like everything was normal. like your best friend wasn’t secretly jerking off to your voice and biting his fist to keep from moaning into the receiver.

“you been staying up late again?” you asked. “you really sound tired.”

mark choked on a sound that wasn’t a laugh, wasn’t a sob, wasn’t quite a moan.

“mmh—yeah. c-can’t sleep…”

“you should take melatonin or something. or stop watching porn at 3am.”

if only you knew.

mark was panting now, trying to keep it quiet, but every breath was a tremor. his thighs shook with tension, every muscle in his body drawn tight like a bowstring. he sped up again without meaning to, his body begging for release. it wasn’t just the friction. it was you — your voice, your laugh, the way you sounded like you were half-asleep and smiling through every word.

and fuck, he wanted you to hear. even if it ruined everything.

“hey,” you said again, more curious now. “you really okay? you sound like you’re—”

“i’m f—fuck,” mark hissed through his teeth, a broken sound slipping out before he could stop it.

his back arched. he turned his face into the pillow beside him and bit down, hard. his whole body jerked with need.

“s-sorry, sorry—”

you blinked on the other end. “mark… are you… are you sick or something?”

“n-no,” mark whimpered, voice cracking again.

his chest was heaving, cock twitching wildly in his hand now. the wet slick noises of it were starting to get louder — he was so close it hurt.

“just… ngh—just don’t stop talking. please.”

you paused, clearly confused.

“mark, you sure you’re okay? your voice sounds—like you’re in pain or something. you’re not crying, right?”

he almost was.

“no—n-not crying. j-just…”

his fingers slipped, the slick glide of his palm stuttering for a second. he couldn’t do this much longer. every syllable you said was like fuel thrown on the fire. his entire body was one big live wire, and all it would take was one more second of your voice, soft and unknowing in his ear, and he’d—

“oh fuck—fuckfuck—ah—” he gasped suddenly, louder than he meant to.

he couldn’t stop it. his hips jerked up off the bed, his legs kicked once, hard, heel catching on the sheet.

“shit—”

“mark?”

bit it was too late.

he came with a guttural noise halfway between a gasp and a whimper, hand still pumping as thick heat spilled across his abs, wrist, stomach. his thighs were trembling, whole body shaking, the pleasure rolling over him in uncontrollable, stuttering waves. he clenched the phone so tight it creaked in his palm.

your voice cut through the haze.

“…wait. are you—holy shit. were you jerking off?”

mark froze. his face was bright red, chest heaving, jaw slack as the last pulses of pleasure shook through him.

he didn’t answer. he couldn’t.

the silence stretched — the only thing in his room now was the sound of him breathing. hard and shallow. still a little shaky, his hand still cupped over the base of his cock, half-hard and twitching against his sticky palm.

the mess was cooling on his stomach, and he was pretty sure his heart had stopped beating somewhere between orgasm and panic.

“…mark?”

you sounded different now. not angry. not teasing. just… surprised. confused. and a little quieter. your voice had dropped half a note, softer in a way that made his throat close. mark swallowed.

his voice cracked when he finally said it :

“y-yeah.”

one word. barely more than a whisper.

he shifted in bed, feeling how damp the sheets were under his thighs, how raw his skin felt, sensitive to the air now. still holding the phone, mark let out a low, shaky breath and forced himself to speak again.

“i was. i… i was jerking off.”

silence.

god, he wanted to disappear. the shame was burning. he shut his eyes and dragged a hand down his face, fingers shaking slightly. his cock gave a small, involuntary twitch in his hand even now. he should’ve hung up. should’ve made up some lie. should’ve said anything else.

instead, he added : “i couldn’t stop thinking about your voice. it—fuck, it made it worse. better. i don’t know. i just—needed it.”

there was a pause on the other end. but this one felt different.

“…damn,” you finally said.

the word came out low, cautious.

mark’s breath caught. he squeezed his eyes shut.

“you’re mad,” he mumbled, voice hoarse. “i get it, i’m—fucked up, i’m sorry, i shouldn’t have called—”

“no,” you cut in fast. “no, i’m not mad.”

mark blinked. “you’re… not?”

“i mean…” you hesitated. “that’s kinda… hot.”

mark sat up straighter, heart kicking into a full sprint again. “what?”

your voice was a little different now. lower. a little breathy. “you really called me… while you were doing that?”

mark nodded before realizing you couldn’t see it.

“y-yeah.”

he was still hard. somehow. his body didn’t know how to stop with you still on the phone, your voice suddenly filled with something heavier. curiosity? tension? hunger? whatever it was, it sparked like a live wire right in his chest.

“you… wanted to hear me that bad?” you asked.

and mark could picture the look on your face now — confused, pink-cheeked, maybe biting your lip the way you always did when you were trying to process something fast.

“i did,” mark whispered. “i wanted to imagine you in my ear. i already was. but when i actually heard you… i couldn’t stop. you sounded so warm. like—like you were laying next to me.”

“shit,” you mutter, your breath hitched now. “that’s…”

mark gripped the phone tighter. “what?”

“kind of really hot,” you admitted. “like, weirdly hot.”

something inside mark broke open at that.

his hand reflexively slid down over his cock again — not stroking yet, but holding it, grounding himself in sensation, in your voice and the feeling of still being on the edge, desperate for more. his stomach clenched, hips shifting under the blankets.

“are you…” he tried. “turned on right now?”

a soft exhale from you bedore you anwser.

“yeah.”

the sound mark made wasn’t even a word. just a needy gasp, like he’d been underwater and your answer let him breathe again. he rolled his hips forward a little into his palm, dragging his fingers lightly over the head of his cock. still sensitive. almost unbearable.

“can i come over?” you asked.

mark’s breath hitched. the thought was overwhelming, making his cock twitch even more.

“yes,” he said immediately, too fast, too eager. his voice cracked on it, raw and wet with want. “yes, please—fuck, i want you to.”

there was a pause — not hesitation, but heat. you were quiet for a second, and he could hear you shifting on the other end, probably sitting up now, heart racing like his.

“leave the door unlocked,” you said.

mark nodded again, even though you couldn’t see.

“hurry.”

he didn’t hang up.

[ilykatz]

You and Choso are so whineyyyy

Choso x m!Reader

CW: mlm, riding, top!Choso, you’re both whiney, handjob, p in a, overstimulation, cumming dry

You were on top of Choso, leaning back with your hands over his thighs grinding his cock back and forth inside you. Both of you letting out breathy whines and moans.

“You’re so tight,” Choso whined, his hands digging into the pillow covers behind his head.

“You’re so biiig Cho,” you breathlessly moan.

You bounce yourself faster on his cock, your own dick matching your bounces, leaking precum on Choso below you. He was so pretty, his pale face flushed a dark red hue, sweat lightly coating his skin. His eyebrows were furrowed together with glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill.

“You about to cry Cho?” You tease, a breathy laugh leaving your lips. “You look so cute.”

He slightly frowns, reaching one hand out to cup your balls in his hands, slightly massaging them while with the other hand he twists his hand around your wet tip.

You lean back and let out a high whiney moan, thrusting your hips to meet his hands. Trying to chase the extra pleasure.

“Yeah, s’what I thought.” He muttered as he thrusts his hips up into you, perfectly hitting your prostate. “Don’t be mean, you’re too cute to be mean.”

Your hips move faster, both to chase the pleasure on your cock and on your g-spot. His cock thickly spreading you out, hitting every right spot.

“I’mma cum, hah!” You cry.

“Yes, pleasepleaseplease, please cum on me pretty boy, I’ll fill you up so good, promise!” He pleads, making you finally find your peak.

Your fluids spurt all over his chest, his tongue stuck out trying to catch whatever he could into his mouth. He keeps on stroking you through your orgasm making you whine at the overstimulation.

The overstimulation pushing you into another orgasm, dry cumming immediately after once again as Choso fills you with his load.

“You just cum dry?” He asks with a chuckle.

Your face flushes even more than it already was. “You kept stroking me!” You whined out.

“Heh, only on the first round too, you gonna tap out early?” He asks.

Your eyebrow raises in confusion.

First round?

[u-know-too-much]

Tag alphabet for this account hehehe (where I type in letters alphabetically and click the first tag shown so I can look back at everything I've posted so far)

[u-know-too-much]

I live how this account is either just horny or like at crisis 😭

[l00106]

Draw absolute superman and I’m sucking your toes 🙏🥲

done! now suck my toe twin

[syphasfire]

[jason todd/red hood headers!] ↪ like or reblog if you use