#What Do You Mean By Premature Ejaculation | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anghimalaaynasapuso · 5 months ago

Text

HYENA JOHNNY

sfw + nsfw. rut. knotting. premature ejaculation. service top!johnny (?)

you meet johnny at a bar.

the place is old but well-kept, a place that’s obviously seen its share of rowdy nights and heavy pours but still holds its charm. dark wood, polished by time and restless hands, stretches beneath your fingertips. liquor bottles line the shelves behind the counter.

the air hums— conversation rising and falling in waves, punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter, the sharp clink of glasses meeting in messy toasts. the dim lighting catches on old brass fixtures, scuffs on the floor telling stories of countless nights just like this one.

and behind the bar, johnny.

he moves like he owns the place, because, clearly, he does. he reaches for bottles without looking, flicks open the tap with a smooth twist of his wrist. the other bartenders glance his way for cues. it’s plain that johnny doesn’t just work here. he runs the show.

and it's that experience that has him spotting you immediately.

“what’ll it be, sweetheart?” the words roll off his tongue, practiced but not indifferent.

"a mocktail.”

johnny pauses, processing, then snorts. “that’s tragic. you say that like you mean it.”

"i do."

he clicks his tongue, shaking his head, the motion loose. “waste of a perfectly good night, that.”

"i’m the designated driver," you shoot back, somehow feeling like you have to defend yourself, jerking a thumb over your shoulder.

your friends are deep in it— half-dancing, half-stumbling, belting lyrics to a song that isn’t playing. one of them throws their arms around another’s neck, nearly taking them both down in the process

johnny follows your gaze, lets out a low whistle. “ah. the shepherd of the drunk.” his tail sways behind him, amused. “a noble role.”

"someone has to get them home alive."

he drums his fingers against the bar, eyes flicking between you and the mess unfolding on the dance floor. “you sure you don’t wanna let natural selection do its thing?”

you huff a laugh, shaking your head. "tempting. but i’d rather not explain to their mothers why they woke up in a hedge."

he grins. “fair enough. guess that means you get a drink that doesn’t kick back.” he rolls his shoulders before reaching for bottles. “what’s the call, then? fruity? sour?”

"surprise me."

johnny hums, tilting his head, eyes narrowing slightly like he’s sizing you up. “dangerous words,” but he’s already moving, rolling up his sleeves as he reaches for a shaker. “hope you like a bit of bite.”

"that a threat?"

“nah,” he says. “just a promise.”

you watch him work.

his hands move fast, sure, an efficiency that only comes with time and muscle memory. bottles tip, liquid pours in smooth arcs, ice clatters against the tin before he seals it with a sharp tap. he doesn’t fumble, doesn’t second-guess— he moves with a rhythm stitched into his bones.

and he’s a hyena. no mistaking it.

the broad grin, all sharp teeth. the spots dusting his forearms, darker markings trailing up his skin where his sleeves are shoved back. but more than that, it’s how he carries himself— as if he was built to be here, to take up space without hesitation.

he shakes the tin with quick jerks, wrists rolling, muscles shifting under skin.

“so,” he starts, barely looking up as he strains the drink into a glass, “you always this responsible, or is this a special occasion?”

"i like knowing i’ll wake up in my own bed."

he hums, dropping a garnish into the glass with a flick of his fingers. “can’t argue with that.” then he slides the drink toward you, tapping the rim lightly with one claw. “still. shame to waste a night like this on sobriety.”

you lift the glass, taking a slow sip. citrus, something tart, something fizzy at the edges, a hint of spice lingering at the back of your tongue.

"not bad," you admit.

johnny leans in slightly, bracing his forearms against the bar, grin widening. “’course it’s not. you think i’d serve you shite?”

"i've known you for all five minutes. forgive me if i didn’t know what to expect."

he chuckles, head tilting, ears flicking forward. “stick around, sweetheart. i’ll raise those expectations in no time.”

"confident, aren’t you?"

“damn right.” his eyes flick over you. “why? that a problem?”

"just wondering if it ever gets you in trouble."

his grin turns wolfish— if a hyena could pull off wolfish. “constantly.”

you don’t take him home that night. not because you don’t want to— because you do, god, you do— but because you’ve got a job to do.

instead, you spend the next hour wrangling your friends, guiding them into overpriced rideshares, confiscating a stolen pint glass, and prying one of them away from a very ill-advised conversation with a married senior executive.

by the time you finally collapse into bed, your jacket still smells like whiskey and citrus, your ears still ringing with laughter.

you tell yourself you won’t think about the bartender with the easy grin and the voice that curled around your name like it belonged to him.

you tell yourself a lot of things.

the work gala arrives like an obligation dressed as an opportunity. the invitation promised networking, an open bar, and a celebration of months of labor.

but you don’t want to go.

you doubt anyone does, but it’s not really a choice. the project your team has spent months sweating over is finally seeing the light of day, and the higher-ups need their captive audience. they need applause, nods of approval, praise whispered over crystal flutes of overpriced champagne.

so you go.

you let yourself be swept inside, past sleek decor and halfhearted compliments, past handshakes that mean nothing and conversations that mean even less. the champagne is crisp and the hors d'oeuvres bite-sized and forgettable.

the work gala is everything you expected.

the kind of event that looks dazzling in photos but feels hollow in person. the chandeliers glisten, the glasses are always full, and the music hums soft and unintrusive, a backdrop for corporate egos to stretch their legs. it’s all smiles that don’t reach the eyes, laughter that’s a beat too polished, and conversations that carry the distinct flavor of ambition disguised as small talk.

the dress helps, if anything. a deep color, clean lines, the kind that turns a glance into a second look. a little armor against the monotony of handshakes and careful smiles.

you last about ten minutes before you seek out the bar.

and that’s when you see him.

johnny.

standing behind the counter like he owns the place, despite the fact that he very much does not.

his sleeves are pushed up, forearms bared, and his tie is hanging loose like it barely survived a halfhearted attempt at professionalism. he looks like someone who should be on the other side of the bar, drink in hand, making people laugh too loud. but he’s here, somehow, and he’s already watching you.

he leans into the counter, the soft golden glow of the pendant lights casting sharp shadows across his grin— and it looks suspiciously like he’s been waiting for you to notice him.

and of course, you do. how could you not?

johnny isn’t just attractive.

that would be too simple. attraction is easy, common. but johnny is something else. something loud and impossible to ignore, the kind of presence that bends a room around him, that demands attention without asking for it.

you stop short, fingers tightening around the stem of your glass. “johnny?”

he grins. “last i checked.”

your eyes flick down to the neatly pressed vest, the gleaming bar, the expensive bottles lined up in perfect order.

then back to him.

“what the hell are you doing here?”

johnny reaches for a glass, inspecting it against the light before setting it down with a soft clink. “servin’ drinks, apparently.”

your brow lifts. “you own a pub.”

“that i do.”

“so why are you working here?”

“money’s good.” he shrugs, as if that’s a reason.

you give him a look. “you could’ve sent someone else.”

his smirk twitches into a grin. “could’ve.”

you narrow your eyes. “but?”

johnny leans in slightly, resting his forearms on the bar. “but then i wouldn’t have run into you, would i?”

heat pricks the back of your neck. “you expect me to believe you took this job on the off chance i’d be here?”

“nah,” he says easily, reaching for a bottle, twisting off the cap with practiced ease. “but it’s a hell of a nice surprise.”

you exhale, shaking your head. “unbelievable.”

“what’s unbelievable is that you’re still holdin’ that same drink,” he says, nodding toward the half-full glass in your hand. “startin’ to think you don’t trust me.”

“i barely trust this event,” you say dryly. “let alone the bar staff.”

johnny places a hand over his heart, mock-wounded. “cut me deep, sweetheart.”

you roll your eyes, setting your drink down. “fine. impress me.”

he moves to prepare your drink and soon enough a drink slides across the bar. he taps the rim lightly with one finger. a challenge.

his grin turns sharp, all teeth. “dangerous thing to ask.”

you take a sip.

pause.

lick the taste from your lips.

his smirk lingers, watching. waiting.

“…damn it.” you exhale. “that’s actually good.”

johnny laughs, pleased. “you plannin’ on apologizing for that remark earlier?”

your pulse jumps.

“and how exactly would i do that?”

he tilts his head, considering. “stick around. drink somethin’ strong. keep lookin’ at me like that.”

and just like that, you’re in trouble.

you don’t mean to get drunk. you came here to be seen, to endure, to let your boss soak up the credit for your work while you nod along. but then johnny makes you a drink, and when you finish it too fast, he makes you another.

responsibility starts as a whisper.

drink slower. be professional. don’t plant yourself at the bar all night.

then he tilts his head just so, watching you like you’re a puzzle he intends to solve and the whisper fades.

you order another.

somewhere around your third drink, your laughter turns ease. johnny’s grin mirrors it, fingers working effortlessly over glass and steel as he keeps the drinks flowing.

fourth drink, you tell him he has unfairly nice hands. he nearly spills a cocktail laughing.

five drinks in, you go for a napkin, miss entirely, and send a row of garnishes tumbling. staring down at the mess, you seriously debate the logistics of picking them up without falling under the bar.

johnny exhales, tossing a rag over his shoulder. "i think that means you’re cut off, sweetheart."

"you think a lot of things," you mutter, blinking up at him, heavy-lidded and unbothered.

his laughter softens, turns fond. "and i’m usually right."

you pout at him until you sway a little too much, and the world tilts just slightly before a hand reaches over the bar to steady you.

he exhales through his nose, shaking his head, muttering half-amused, half-exasperated, "jesus."

for a moment, johnny considers just throwing you over his shoulder and dealing with the consequences later. he’s a hyena, after all, and hyenas take care of their own. you’re his, in some loose, nebulous way, and it wouldn’t be difficult to make sure you got to a home safe. yours or not.

but even in your current state, he figures you wouldn’t be thrilled about waking up in a stranger’s bed with no memory of how you got there.

so, he does the next best thing.

he steals your phone.

you don’t even notice, too busy playing with the condensation on your glass, and he sighs as he tilts the screen toward your face.

the lock screen slides open instantly.

"oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, shaking his head. "you’re makin’ this too easy."

he scrolls through your messages, scanning over names he doesn’t recognize until he finds a group chat that looks promising. lots of emojis. lots of inside jokes. someone had typed in all caps at some point about a brunch reservation, so yeah— this’ll do.

he thumbs out a message: “your friend is very drunk. come get them before she pukes over my bar.” and attaches the location.

and then, because he can, because he wants to, and because some part of him already knows he’ll be seeing you again, he puts his number in your contacts, too.

you wake up to a headache and a mistake.

the headache, at least, makes sense. it splits through your skull the second you shift, a dull, relentless throb pulsing behind your eyes, pressing into the backs of your sockets like a vice tightening around your brain. your mouth is dry, tongue thick with the stale aftertaste of liquor, and your body feels like dead weight, limbs tangled in sheets that are too warm, too heavy. everything is stiff— your neck, your shoulders, your stomach twisting in protest as the memories of last night flicker back in fragments. a bar. dark wood. golden light. laughter that lingered low in your chest, warm and sweet, and—

him.

your stomach flips before your brain can even process why.

you groan, rolling onto your side, pushing your face into the pillow to block out the morning. you want to sleep, to bury yourself beneath the covers and pretend none of it happened— whatever it is. but your body betrays you, instincts dragging your arm across the mattress, fumbling blindly for your phone where it must’ve slipped from your hand sometime in the night.

your fingers brush cool metal. you blink blearily at the screen.

the glow cuts through the dimness of your room, soft and insistent, illuminating the single notification waiting for you.

a new contact.

johnny ;)

your stomach twists harder.

you blink at it.

once.

twice.

the emoji taunts you, cocky even in pixels, a playful little wink that makes something hot curl at the base of your spine. the name itself is bad enough— too much of a reminder of how his mouth quirked up when he poured your drink, and the warmth of his fingers when brushed against yours as he slid it across the bar.

your pulse ticks up. you hesitate, thumb hovering over the screen, torn between the impulse to check and the ridiculous urge to just not know.

but you already know you’re going to look.

you swipe, and the screen shifts.

one unread message.

johnny: still alive, sweetheart?

your first instinct is to throw the phone across the room. your second is to type something back. something quick, something effortless, something that won’t make it obvious that your pulse just stuttered in your throat.

you fail spectacularly.

you: barely. might never recover.

his response is immediate, and it makes you wonder if he was already waiting.

johnny: tragic. if i’d known, i would’ve given you a proper sendoff

heat prickles at the back of your neck. you stare at the message for a second too long, then lock your phone and press it flat against your chest as if that might do something about the way your heart is suddenly working overtime.

and just like that, it starts. small things, at first. quick, snappy messages.

johnny: remind me to never let you near tequila again. i don’t think you’d survive round two.

you: bold of you to assume i wouldn’t win.

johnny: bold of YOU to assume you won anything last night. you begged me for water.

you: lies. slander. i demand proof.

johnny: aye, sweetheart, i’d send the security footage, but i think the sight of you poutin’ at me over a glass of water might be too much for your fragile ego.

you don’t have a response for that. you lock your phone, toss it onto your bed, and roll onto your stomach, groaning into your pillow.

but the messages keep coming.

johnny: how’s the hangover? or should i start gettin’ that funeral procession in order?

you: surprisingly not dead.

johnny: pity. i would’ve made a great eulogy.

it’s easy, too easy.

he starts asking about your day. you start telling him.

johnny: how’d the deadline go? survived it?

you: took three cups of coffee and some questionable life choices, but it’s done

johnny: questionable life choices, huh? do i even want to ask?

you: if you must know, i impulse bought a croissant the size of my head. no regrets

johnny: i admire the dedication. although i’d be more impressed if you could finish it.

you: challenge accepted

he keeps talking to you. keeps pulling you in, coaxing conversation out of you and somehow it all feels natural, effortless.

he makes fun of the salad you regret ordering for lunch.

you: i don’t know what i expected. it’s lettuce.

johnny: truly a tragic meal. if you die from boredom, i promise i’ll give a heartfelt speech at the funeral.

you: that’s the second time you’ve threatened to monologue at my funeral. should i be worried?

johnny: just bein’ prepared, sweetheart. never know when tragedy might strike.

he complains about a difficult customer but immediately follows up with “not that i'm whinin'. boss can’t be seen whinin’."

the more he texts, the worse it gets.

you catch yourself checking your phone too often, waiting for his name to light up your screen. you start carrying your charger everywhere, the battery never allowed to dip low, just in case. when he texts, you answer too fast. when he doesn’t, you fight the stupid urge to stare at your phone, to wonder if he’s busy, to think about what his hands might be doing instead.

somewhere along the way, the teasing shifts into something else. something a little slower.

johnny: long day?

you: feels like it

johnny: go easy on yourself, sweetheart. tomorrow’s just gonna show up and make a mess of things all over again.

your fingers hover over the keyboard. something about it makes you pause, makes your stomach do that stupid little thing where it twists up in knots.

you: that’s bleak

johnny: nah. just means there’s always another chance to make somethin’ good out of it.

you don’t have a response for that either.

turns out you don't need one because then he follows it up with a—

johnny: what are you doin’ friday?

your stomach flips.

you: depends. why?

this time, the response doesn’t come immediately.

you watch the typing bubble appear. disappear. reappear.

johnny: takin’ you out. that’s why.

your breath catches. your hands hesitate over the keyboard, mind racing, running in circles. you type something and delete it. type again. delete. finally, you settle on—

you: at your pub?

his reply is fast.

johnny: christ, no. my staff would never let me leave alive.

you: fair point. so where, then?

johnny: you’ll see ;)

you are, without a doubt, in trouble.

johnny is ready. more than ready. too ready, if you ask his staff.

he’s been buzzing since you said yes, practically vibrating through the walls of his pub, too restless to stand still. his staff have been suffering through it for days— watching him plan the date down to the minute, pick out the restaurant, polish his shoes, practice his stories in the backroom mirror with an alarming level of dedication.

“you’re a grown man,” gaz mutters at one point, rubbing his temples as johnny rehearses a joke for the fifth time. “not a schoolboy with his first crush.”

he’s taken people out before, sure, but this— this is different. his fingers twitch when he thinks about it. his pulse kicks like it’s trying to outrun him. he shoves it all down, tells himself to act normal, be normal, but his body betrays him at every turn.

and then, just as he reaches your door, just as he lifts his fist to knock—

his rut slams into him like a sledgehammer.

hyena ruts are brutal.

unlike wolves or big cats, they don’t creep in slow, don’t build over days like a fire waiting for kindling. no, hyenas go from zero to hundred in the space of a breath— one second fine, the next wrecked by an all-consuming need, by instincts that don’t care for reason or timing.

johnny staggers, barely catching himself before he hits the wall, his shoulder slamming into brick with a dull, shuddering thud. his claws scrape at his own arms, blunt nails dragging hard enough to leave welts beneath his fur, but it doesn’t help, nothing fucking helps. his body isn’t listening. his breath stutters, fast and uneven, catching in his throat like he’s choking on something thick and hot. sweat beads at his temples, slicks the back of his neck, soaks into his shirt despite the night air.

his stomach knots, muscles pulling tight, something twisting low in his gut like a wire wound too far. his mouth hangs open, his tongue thick, saliva pooling behind his teeth like his body is preparing for a bite, for a kill. his canines throb, the dull ache settling deep in his jaw, instincts curling sharp beneath his ribs, thick and hungry and dangerous.

and fuck. fuck, he’s so hard he can’t breathe.

his cock strains against his trousers, the fabric pulled taut over the thick, aching line of it, every throb so deep it rattles in his bones. he shifts, trying to ease it, trying to will it down, but the movement just grinds the swollen head against the seam of his fly, drags coarse fabric over his leaking tip, makes him hiss between clenched teeth. his balls are tight, drawn up so high it’s like they’re trying to retreat into his body, his whole system locked down, caught in something primal and unforgiving.

he clenches his fists, claws digging into his palms, every muscle in his body coiled and trembling with the effort of staying still, of not grinding down against something, of not reaching between his legs and squeezing his own cock in his fist just to take the edge off.

and then he fucking whimpers.

the sound wrenches out of him, cracking at the end. his breath stutters, catches in his throat, his body too hot, too tight.

johnny's head tips back, knocking against the brick, his hips twitching forward in a broken little jerk, chasing nothing, his cock pulsing angrily, trapped and swollen, sensitivity that borders on pain. he squeezes his eyes shut, teeth grinding, sweat rolling down his spine, but it doesn’t help. nothing helps.

and then— the door creaks open.

he flinches, his whole body jolting, his breath shoving out of him in a ragged, shaking gasp.

you’re there.

crouched beside him, close enough that he can catch your scent, something grounding and unbearable all at once. your hand hovers near his arm like you’re about to touch him.

no.

“no-” it breaks from his lips before he can stop it. “no- back inside-”

his fingers barely catch your sleeve before slipping off, his limbs weak, useless. “call-” he tries again, panting through clenched teeth. “call for help- call for- fuck-”

but you don’t move. you don’t go back inside. you don’t slam the door shut. you don’t listen.

you reach for him. and he folds.

the second your fingers brush his skin, johnny's whole body caves, shaking apart under the weight of whatever the fuck is happening to him. his forehead knocks against your shoulder, a shuddering noise ripping from his throat as he clings to you, his fingers fisting into your shirt like you’re the only solid thing left in the world.

“oh, fuck-” his cock aches. throbs. pulses against the stiff, unforgiving line of his zipper.

he grinds against nothing, every twitch of his hips sending another spike of sensation shooting up his spine. his balls are heavy, swollen, so full it’s like they might burst, like they might spill just from the way his trousers dig into them, the way his body is wound too tight, too fucking close to something he can’t control.

he needs. he needs.

fuck, but he shouldn’t.

“i-” he tries to pull back, tries to put space between you, but his fingers won’t listen. instead, they curl tighter, dragging you in, his body betraying him in real time, his cock pressing flush to your thigh, the heat of it scalding even through layers of fabric.

a noise breaks from him, sounding dangerously close to a sob.

he can’t. he can’t.

“fuck-” he buries his face against your neck. “m’sorry- m’sorry, just-just a second-”

he’s trembling, breath stuttering, little whimpers breaking past his lips no matter how hard he tries to choke them down.

you say something and he barely registers it through the thick haze clouding his head but your warmth weight, and the press of your body against his—

it helps. just a little.

and you— well, you know exactly what’s happening.

you don’t waste time pretending this is something johnny can just ride out alone. you grip his arms, drag him inside, shove the door shut with your heel and twist the locks tight. then the deadbolt. then the security chain.

your fingers are practiced, muscle memory guiding you through the steps of securing the space.

just in case. just in case someone else nearby is in rut or heat, just in case some poor bastard catches wind of johnny’s scent and decides to come sniffing around.

(he smells good. too good. sharp and heady, the scent of him curling in the air, thickening with every ragged breath he lets out. you, even you, feel your own instincts stirring, muscles tensing in awareness, your body recognizing his rut and urging you to stay close. to soothe. to let him take what he needs.)

johnny is shaking against you, his whole frame shuddering with the effort of keeping himself together. his breath is hot against your skin, slipping out between the low, broken whimpers he can’t seem to bite back

“fuck-fuck, m’sorry,” he stammers, voice catching. “didn’t- didn’t mean-”

his claws twitch against your arms, not quite gripping, afraid to hold on too tight.

his tail flicks behind him, anxious, ears pressed flat against his skull. his pupils are blown wide, swallowing up the blue of his eyes, his whole expression caught between shame and need.

“wanted this-” his voice cracks, something dangerously close to a whine. “wanted this to go well. wanted- wanted t’please you.”

johnny shudders, forehead knocking against your shoulder as another tremor rolls through him. “wanted you to- to see me. see me as a good mate. confident.”

he breathes in, sharp, and his whole body locks up for a moment, every muscle going taut— then a full-body shiver wracks through him, cock pulsing hard enough that you feel it, even through his trousers, even through your own clothes.

your throat goes dry.

you reach up, smoothing your fingers through his fur, brushing a hand along his back, trying to offer something— some kind of grounding touch, reassurance.

“johnny,” you murmur, voice steady, firm. “it’s not your fault.”

his breath hitches.

“i really don’t mind,” you say again, softer now, pressing the words into the shell of his ear.

a noise catches in his throat, something small, choked and helpless, and he drags his face away from your shoulder, tilting up to look at you properly.

his pupils are still wide, expression still hazy, but he searches your face with almost terrifying seriousness.

his tail flicks again when he seems to find nothing or what he was looking for.

“…can i make it up to you?”

your brows lift.

his ears twitch, jaw flexing, uncertainty plain with how his teeth catch on his lower lip, his eyes flicking down to your mouth and then lower, dragging slow over the curve of your body.

you shift, tilting your head. “how?”

johnny's tail twitches again then stills. he swallows hard, nostrils flaring, then lifts his gaze back to yours, something new burning in the depths of his expression.

“…can i lick your pussy?” he’s puppy-eyed and pleading, expression screaming with ‘please let me- please let me take care of you- please, i need this.’

his breath ghosts warm over your lips, fingers flexing where they’re still curled weakly around your arms.

he’s trembling, cock leaking. and you—

you nod.

his ears twitch, breath shuddering out in a sharp little gasp, grip on your thighs tightening. fingers hook into your waistband not a moment later, and he yanks, dragging your pants down, underwear with them, his movements are frantic, almost clumsy in his eagerness. he groans, wrecked and relieved, the second you're bare in front of him, pupils blown, tail wagging, whole body thrumming with ‘please, please, please.’

and then—

oh.

his tongue is warm.

hot and wet and wide, the rough texture of it dragging over your slit in a slow, open-mouthed lick, firm and eager like he's trying to taste every inch of you.

your breath stutters, hands flying to his head, fingers curling into his thick fur as he groans against you, the sound vibrating up through his tongue, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your spine.

and he doesn't stop.

doesn't hesitate. doesn't tease.

no, johnny dives in, pressing his face right up against your cunt, burying his nose in the soft flesh of your inner thigh, mouth sealing over you like he's starving.

his tongue flicks, curls, scoops into you, lapping up your slick with these obscene little slurping sounds, breath coming fast and desperate through his nose.

"fuck," you gasp, hips jerking, but he just growls, arms wrapping around your thighs, locking you in place.

his tongue drags up, then circles your clit, flicking once, twice before sucking it into his mouth, lips sealing around it with wet, sloppy pressure.

a sharp, helpless sound breaks from your throat, fingers spasming in his fur, tugging hard, but he just whines, pushing closer, pressing his face deeper between your legs, like he wants to drown in you.

his tail thumps against the floor, hips shifting, rutting, desperate little movements like he needs the friction, like eating you out is wrecking him just as much as it’s wrecking you.

johnny’s tongue works you open, the rough drag of it lighting up every nerve in your body. he’s sloppy with it, messy and eager as a puppy, sucking and lapping and groaning like he can’t get enough— like he won’t get enough, not until you’re shaking, not until you’re breaking apart in his hands.

his nose presses in, nuzzling against your clit as he angles his tongue deeper, the slick heat of his mouth sealing around you, sucking, devouring every drop of slick that spills from your pussy. his grip tightens, claws pricking your skin, grounding you against his face as he buries himself in your cunt, breath ragged.

his ears twitch at every moan, every gasp, tail wagging, thudding against the floor in frantic, jerky movements. his hips roll, little ruts against nothing, cock straining in his pants.

and fuck, the way you’re squeezing around his tongue, the way you’re whining, the way your fingers are tugging at his fur, yanking him closer, using him for your pleasure—

it’s perfect.

his tongue flicks against your clit, so fast he feels like his jaw is gonna cramp and your whole body locks up, muscles tensing, thighs clamping around his head as your pleasure slams through you.

"johnny-!"

you break, back arching, fingers spasming in his hair as your orgasm rips through you, cunt clenching.

and johnny loses it.

his hips snap forward, grinding down against the floor, cock pulsing in his pants, the thick length throbbing in time with your orgasm, so turned on with how you’re gushing into his mouth.

"fuck-” johnny’s body shaking, arms tightening around your thighs as his own climax crashes into him, his whole frame jerking with it.

his tail spasms, ears flicking wildly, and he ruts with mindless abandon, his tongue still lapping at you as he comes, soaking his trousers, thick spurts spilling out in his underwear, making a mess of himself, of the floor beneath him.

johnny’s breath stutters, his tongue slower now, softer. he whimpers against you, his hips giving these tiny, involuntary twitches, pleasure still rattling through his system, buzzing under his skin.

he’s a mess. ruined. wrecked.

but he’s still got his mouth on you. he’s still hard.

even after all that, after coming in his pants like a desperate thing, he’s still thick and straining against the damp fabric, the outline of his cock pressing against his zipper, a dark stain spreading where his release had soaked through.

but he’s smiling up at you, lazy, hazy-eyed satisfaction, ears flicking, tail giving a slow, contented thump against the floor. he looks pleased with himself, looks like he just had the best meal of his life, tongue flicking out to lick the last traces of you from his lips.

you swallow, your gaze flicking down, heat curling in your stomach.

"johnny-" your voice comes out soft. "do you- do you wanna fuck me?"

his ears perk up. his breath hitches.

"fuck," he gasps, pupils blown, hips giving a helpless little jerk, grinding into nothing. "fuck, yes- yes, please-”

your voice comes out soft, barely above a whisper, but he hears it like a gunshot.

"fuck me..."

johnny whines. he’s so happy, so relieved, so thrilled that his hands are already moving before his brain catches up— grabbing at your clothes, tearing them off your body, dragging fabric down your arms, over your hips, tossing them aside like they offend him.

you barely have a second to breathe before he’s fumbling with his own clothes, his pants sticking to his skin, soaked through with his release, and he growls under his breath, impatient, frantic, tearing at the fabric.

you hear the sharp rip before you see him, and by then, it’s too late.

his hands are on your hips again, tugging you back against him, the heat of him pressing up behind you. bare now, nothing between you, and—

oh.

there is a lot of him.

you don't see it, but you feel it, the weight of him pressing against you, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, leaking precum against your folds. your brain catches up in a single, dawning moment of realization.

"u-um- johnny, wait-"

he doesn’t wait. he pushes in.

your mouth drops open around a soundless scream, arms giving out beneath you, sending you down onto your hands as your body stretches around him.

"hnnngh- fuck-”

johnny groans, hands locking around your hips, fingers digging in, holding you still as he sinks in deeper, his fat length forcing you open, your walls struggling to accommodate the sheer size of him.

his cock is thick, veined, hot as a brand against your insides, his knot still deflated but already pressing against your entrance, teasing the stretch that’s still to come.

"s’good- fuck- so warm-" he babbles, hips twitching. rolling. driving him deeper. deeper. deeper.

you can feel every ridge, every pulse, the wet sounds of your slick mixing with his precum, making everything so messy, so hot, so unbearably good.

your fingers curl against the floor, nails scraping for purchase, breath coming in ragged gasps. you can barely speak, but you manage a single, broken sound—

"johnny-"

he whimpers, hips jerking forward, sinking the last of himself inside.

he’s so deep you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

he snaps his hips forward, slamming into you with a force that knocks the breath from your lungs.

again.

it’s feral. frantic. mindless. his claws dig into your hips, keeping you locked in place as he fucks into you with the wild, unrelenting pace of an animal.

"fuck- fuck- fuck-"

he’s babbling now, every noise ripped straight from his chest. he’s gone, lost to instinct, breath ragged, panting against your back.

and you— you’re drooling.

your mouth falls open, a string of spit slipping past your lips, eyes hazy, unfocused, body pliant beneath him. it’s like you’re the one in heat, like his need has infected you, sinking into your skin, making you just as desperate, just as mindless.

his knot isn’t even swollen yet, and still— still— it feels like too much, like your body is barely keeping up, like you’re caught in the eye of a storm and all you can do is take it.

and he’s loving it.

“s-so good-" he whimpers, his voice shaking, thick with pleasure, his ears twitching. "s’takin’ me so well- fuck- made f’me, yeah? made t’be bred-"

his teeth graze the back of your neck, not quite biting, but close, breath hot against your skin.

"tell me- tell me y’need it-"

his hips snap forward, hard, cock grinding against the deepest part of you.

"tell me, bonnie-“

you somehow managed a choked moan of his name which seems to please him enough. “j-johnny!”

"hah- hah- hah-" his panting is ragged, tongue lolling out between sharp teeth, drool slipping past his lips, dripping onto your back. his claws dig into your hips, dragging you back onto his cock with every thrust.

you're reduced to a mess of slick and sweat and open-mouthed moans. your vision swims, breath stuttering, drool slipping past your own lips. your cunt grips him tight, sucking him in, slick coating his cock, dripping down his balls, wetting the base of his knot as it starts to swell.

"pretty..." johnny fucking giggles. it’s breathy, boyish, downright giddy as he snakes a hand down between your legs, fingertips dragging through the sticky mess between your thighs, rubbing over your swollen, aching clit.

"pretty clit… so soft... s’cute like this, all swollen f’me..."

he snickers to himself, his other hand coming up to your lower belly, pressing down, feeling the bulge his cock makes inside you. his hips snap forward hard, pressing down at the same time, making you feel every inch of him.

"fuck-" he whimpers, laughter breaking into a moan, tail flicking wildly behind him. "y'feel that? s’me, bonnie- deep inside- fuck, s’good-”

your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body locking up, cunt milking him as you shake. your mind goes hazy, all-consuming pleasure buzzing through your nerves, and you barely register the way his rhythm falters—

until he gasps, breath catching, his whole body trembling, hips stuttering against you.

but he doesn’t push his knot in.

his cock throbs, leaking, twitching inside you, but his knot— still swollen, thick and pulsing at your entrance— doesn’t breach. he was too caught up, too lost in you, and now.

well, now it’s too late.

"fuck- fuck, bonnie, ‘m sorry-" his voice is frantic, hands shaking where they grip your hips. "i was s’posed t’ knot you, i- fuck, i know it hurts-”

and it does.

the ache of being left open, empty where you should be full, the throb of your walls still pulsing around nothing.

johnny knows.

he knows it hurts to push his knot in if you’re not distracted by your orgasm. he also knows the second the high fades it’s going to leave you aching, needy, sensitive in a way that burns.

"i got you, bonnie-" he murmurs, voice soft, affectionate even as he drives into you again, already chasing another orgasm from you. "gonna make it up t’you, promise-"

he grabs your hips, yanking you back onto his cock, fucking you harder, faster, desperate to fix it, desperate to make sure you don’t feel the pain.

his fingers find your clit again, rubbing quick, his touch clumsy, eager. “fuck- ‘m sorry, s’gonna feel so good, swear it-"

and he’s right.

your body can’t fight him, can’t deny him, the overstimulation pushing you right back up that peak, another orgasm slamming into you not even a minute later.

your walls clamp down around him, milking him, and he chokes on a moan, his whole body tensing. "fuck, fuck, that’s it- thass it, bonnie-"

his knot swells, stretching you wide, pushing in finally, locking him deep inside you—

and then he comes.

he fills you, cock pulsing, spurts of cum pouring into you, stuffing you full. his hips twitches, grinding against you, voice breaking on your name.

johnny's arms wrap around you, hugging you tight, chest pressed to your back. "s-sorry," he breathes, still panting, nuzzling against your shoulder. "s’never gonna happen again, promise-”

oh but it does. it happens multiple times, in fact.

you don’t know how long it’s been. you lost count after his fifth load. time has lost all meaning, swallowed up by the relentless rhythm of johnny’s rut.

he’s insatiable. a desperate, panting mess, rutting into you over and over, knotting you again and again, rolling his hips even when he’s still locked inside you, grinding his over-sensitive cock against your walls like he can’t stop.

his hands won’t let go of you, always grabbing, always holding— your hips, your waist, your thighs, your wrists. pulling you back onto him, keeping you flush against his sweat-slicked body.

johnny's all heat, burning up against you, whining your name in between frantic, slurred murmurs of "so good, so good, my bonnie, mine-"

but eventually— finally— the first wave of his rut starts to fade.

he slows. his thrusts lose their urgency, grip loosening, breath evening out, the feverish need in his eyes softening into something dazed, exhausted.

you take your chance.

"johnny-" you murmur, shifting slightly beneath him. "you need to drink some water, love."

he doesn't seem to really hear you, nuzzling into your neck. "mmm… later…"

"no, now," you insist, stroking a hand through his sweat-damp hair. "you’ve- we've been going for hours- we need to hydrate, okay?"

he grumbles, but when you finally manage to untangle yourself from his grasp and sit up, he whines, reaching for you again, ears flattening against his head.

"no- bonnie- come back-"

"drink first," you say, grabbing the water bottle from your nightstand and holding it out to him after you've had your own fill. "then I’ll cuddle you."

he pouts but takes the bottle, chugging down greedy gulps, tail flicking sluggishly behind him.

you press a granola bar into his hand next, watching as he blinks at it, then at you, before finally taking a bite.

he chews slowly, brows furrowing like he’s thinking about something, the fog in his brain is clearing just enough for rational thought.

and that’s when you pick up his phone from the mess of clothes, phoning his emergency number.

a guy nicknamed 👻.

you hesitate, fingers hovering over the call button.

johnny tilts his head at you, ears twitching. "whatcha doin’, bonnie?"

"calling your emergency contact," you say, glancing at him. "someone needs to know you’re in rut."

johnny groans, flopping back against the pillows, rubbing a hand down his face. "oh, fuck me-"

"i did," you deadpan. "for hours."

he snorts, but his face is already going pink. "fuckin’ hell… he’s never gonna let me live this down…"

you press the call button. the phone barely rings twice before a gruff, sleep-roughened voice answers. "this better be important, mactavish.”

"uh- hi," you say, gripping the phone tighter. "this isn’t johnny, but i feel like i needed to call his emergency contact so..”

there’s a pause. a sharp inhale. then— "…what happened."

you glance over at johnny, who’s sprawled out on the bed, still naked, still flushed, body twitching with the last remnants of his latest orgasm. his tail flicks, ears pinned back, eyes half-lidded and dazed.

"he’s in rut," you explain. "we- uh- handled it. but he’s still got waves coming, and i don’t think i can keep up with him forever."

"fuck," the guy mutters. there’s some shuffling on his end, the sound of movement, a door creaking open. "how long’s he been at it?"

you hesitate, looking at the clock. "uh… at least five to six hours?"

"jesus fucking christ." more rustling. "i’ll drop some suppressants off. you got any blockers up?"

"yeah, doors are locked, everything’s secure," you say. "no one else has caught onto his scent. hopefully."

"good. last thing we need is someone else getting ideas."

you nod, happy you're both on the same page.

"i’ll be there in twenty," he continues. "keep him calm, get some fluids in him, and don’t let him knot you again unless you wanna be stuck for another hour."

you open your mouth to answer, but before you can, johnny groans, rolling onto his side, tail swishing, his voice petulant.

"is that ghost?"

"is that his name? i mean, i guess so-"

"tell him he’s a fuckin’ cockblock," johnny whines, pouting up at you. "cannae believe this- rut suppressants? really? yer ruining all my fun, mate."

"oh, fuck off," ghost deadpans. "you’ll thank me when you’re not dead from dehydration and a broken dick."

johnny grumbles, burying his face into your thigh, huffing dramatically. "don’t wanna suppressants. wanna keep fuckin’ my bonnie-”

ghost sighs, long and heavy. "jesus christ. twenty minutes."

the line goes dead.

3K notes · View notes

talaok · 11 months ago

Text

Sunbathing

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’ve decided to sunbathe topless, or as your husband Joel would put it, you’ve decided to torture him.

Warnings: needy Joel, kind of sub!joel, unprotected p in v, premature ejaculation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), come play.

a/n: i sunbathed topless for the first time and well this wrote itself

"You've seen my boobs before babe" A soft laugh bubbled up your throat as you turned your head left.

He wasn't even pretending not to be staring.

"Not like this"

You smiled, "what does that even mean?"

"not out... here"

You lowered your sunglasses to see him better, tilting your head to ask for further explanation

Yes you were outside, by the pool of the beautiful summer house you'd rented, but you didn't get how that made any difference, they were the same boobs he'd seen hours prior in your bed.

"I'm not used to not doing anything about them"

"ah" you hummed "is it that hard?"

You didn't even need to look at the smirk painting his face to regret your choice of words.

"yeah babydoll, it's real hard"

You only needed to lower your gaze a little to asses his statement.

"You're incorrigible"

"And you're torturin' me darlin'"

"How am I torturing you?" you laughed "I'm just taking advantage of the privacy we have to get a good tan"

"and besides, I seem to remember how hard it is for you to see me with the whole bikini on too"

He sat up, the sunbed squeaking as he faced you.

"It ain't my fault if my wife's so pretty it hurts"

"you get so dramatic when you're horny" you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

He smiled, letting his gaze wander all over your body for a good minute, before getting back at your face

"nothin's gonna happen is it?" his tone was full of hope nonetheless

"no baby" you shook your head

He sighed, dramatically letting his head fall to his chest

"I'll have a swim then"

"have fun honey"

__ __ __

"darlin'?"

Not even ten minutes had passed, and that scene from the Barbie movie with the "Ken! Go for a walk or something" line couldn't not pop into your head.

"yes?"

He was standing right next to your sunbed, dripping wet and blocking out the sun.

"don't ya need sunscreen?"

A soft smile pulled at your lips.

Ten minutes, that's how long it took for him to come up with that.

"I put it on already"

He wasn't gonna give up, not on the first try.

"how long ago?"

"an hour, I think"

"the sun's real strong now doll," he said, drying his hair with a towel before throwing it on his bed "I think it's best if you put some more on… I can do it for you if you don't feel like it"

You chuckled, looking up at him, but he stayed in character, continuing to look oh-so worried about your safety.

"Somehow I knew that offer was coming"

"'m just worried about my wife, 's all"

he'd crouched down, taking your hand in his

"mh-mh" you hummed, sarcasm tracing your tone

"can't have you get sunburt now, can we?"

"no, we can't" you played along, smiling at him

"'f course" he murmured, leaning down to leave a soft kiss on your lips as he grabbed the sunscreen.

"I'm so lucky to have such a caring husband"

"I'm the only lucky one babydoll"

He gave you one more kiss, before he leaned away and got to work.

He squeezed some cream into his hand, but to your surprise, his hands didn't land where you'd expected them to-

Only his eyes were betraying him. They were only on one, or actually two things even when it was your legs he was massaging.

The coldness of the cream and his hands felt good against your warm body, so much you couldn't help but hum appreciatively.

"feels good?"

"yeah baby" you breathed as his hands made their way to your thighs.

It always amazed you how hands so big, rough, and strong were able to be so gentle and soft on you.

You couldn't deny the shivers running up your body when his fingers reached your inner thighs, getting close to your core.

"what's that?" your husband was smirking like a cat, as he dedicated himself much too long on that spot.

"I didn't say anything"

If he thought this was gonna work, he was wrong. It was too hot, and you were too relaxed to do what he so obviously wanted to do... although you both knew how much you liked seeing him desperate...

He still didn't touch your boobs, no, next were your shoulders, then your arms, and then... when he felt on the brink of exploding, when he couldn't stop himself anymore, he squeezed a generous amount of sunscreen in his hands, and oh so gently started massaging your tits.

He couldn't stop a soft groan from fleeing his lips.

It felt amazing- of course it felt amazing, but you didn't wanna give him the satisfaction, and this was mostly for him, not for you, so your eyes remained closed as you pretended like it was nothing.

But that only lasted so long, because Joel could endure just about 30 seconds of that before he was bending down, and his mouth was sucking your nipple.

"Joel!" you gasped, your eyes snapping open just in time to see him climb onto you to straddle your waist, and then go right back to groping and licking and sucking your nipples like it was his life long duty.

"baby you're all wet" you tried complaining, but the smile on your lips was everlasting.

He looked so damingly cute like this, looking up at you with those big doe eyes as he worshipped your tits.

"so are you"

And yeah so what if you were- there's only so much a woman can do in front of this.

A soft laugh spilled from your lips as your hand went to find a place in his hair, your back arching to offer more of yourself to him.

"I don't even know how good it is for you to be licking sunscreen"

The look he gave you made it very clear he didn't give one single fuck.

And just when you were about to protest again, his teeth had gently bit your nipple, and a moan had spilled from your lips.

he took that as an incentive to go further, his hand slowly sliding down your belly, between your bodies, until it was seeping underneath your bikini bottoms.

"babe-" you stopped him, your voice breathless

His hand stopped on your mound as he groaned in frustration.

You could feel his rock-hard cock on you since the moment he straddled you- the man was desperate.

"please doll" he murmured against the soft skin of your chest in between kisses "Gimmie something-anything” he pleaded “Have mercy on your poor husband"

Your response was mixed between a laugh and a moan

"I can take care of you if you want"

He shook his head, his teeth grazing your nipple "Need to feel you darlin’"

Again, a soft giggle rumbled from your chest

"’S too hot to have sex here baby"

His hand had gotten out of your bikini to reach the other on your waist.

"the pool- the ground? fuck- anywhere you want sugar, just tell me where"

His clothed hard-on was rubbing against your core now, and fuck but once again you’d succumbed to Joel and his goddamn irresistible neediness.

"bring me back into the house"

It was like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear those words.

In a haze of kisses and lust, he’d picked you up, letting you hold onto him by wrapping your arms and legs around his body as he hurriedly walked into the house.

He didn’t make it far enough to encounter a single surface- and perhaps that was because he’d stopped looking and placed you against the wall the moment he’d passed the threshold.

His mouth was on your tits again, his cock was out, and his fingers had pulled your bikini to the side.

He said nothing as he slowly began entering you, the only sounds in the room being your moan as you threw your head back, and the groan he emitted, muffled by your skin.

“Oh fuck” you cried once he bottomed out.

Your husband was a very gifted man.

"'m not gonna last"

He sounded like the mere act of talking was taking all of his energy, and yet he was thrusting up into you like it was a matter of life or death.

"'s ok"

"I've been hard since you took your top off" he murmured, his breath fanning over your chest “you-you-jesus”

Your left hand passed through his hair, softly soothing him.

“‘S alright baby, don’t wait for me”

“You’re too fuckin’-” he tried to speak, but he was interrupted by yet another groan

“What?” you taunted him, a smirk pulling at your lips “what is it baby?”

His eyes were wide with desperation as he looked up at you, as his mouth stole languid kisses from your tits.

“Too hot- too goddamn perfect”

You bit down a grin at that, still stroking his hair

“I love you baby” you breathed, his cock reaching the deepest, most fucking amazing spot inside you in the meantime.

The moment those words left your lips your husband was fucked- the only words he was able to mutter were a series of -fuckshitgoddamn- before he inevitably reached his peak, filling you up with rope after rope of come that never seemed to end.

He remained like that for a little while, buried inside you, eyes closed, mouth still connected with your boob, until you left a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, and he woke up from his heavenly trance.

He let out a soft groan as he slipped out of you, and took his time letting you down.

You were smiling at him with that soft smile that melted his insides right up, and he couldn’t help but lean in and kiss it, kiss you like you were a soft delicate thing that he was scared of breaking.

“I love you more” he promised, kissing you again, even if you were smiling.

“Feel better now?”

You said it like he was a kid with a stomach bug, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Yeah darlin’” he murmured against your mouth “thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me” you laughed, but he was already shaking his head

“Yes I do”

And without further explanation, he’d dropped to his knees.

He slid your bikini to the side once again, looking up at you with only adoration in his eyes.

“Baby you don’t have to” you tried to reason with him, but his mouth was already latched to your clit, and your hand had already flown to his hair.

He remained on your bud long enough to make you desperate, and then he started focusing on your whole core, his tongue lapping between your folds with what could only be described as feral hunger.

His come was everywhere, and yet he didn’t care, he was happy tasting the mix of your fluids, because that’s how Joel was- a nasty nasty man- only for you.

So much so that you felt his tongue enter your hole, simulating what he was doing just minutes before with his cock.

“Fuck-babe-”

Your moans were breathless, more like whines, like prayers.

You were looking at him as he was looking at you and Jesus... He looked fucking heavenly.

His hair all tussled from your fingers, his blown-out pupils, his never-stopping tongue-

“Joel” you cried, but he didn’t dare speak a word as he went back to your clit.

“Shit-baby- god!”

You had to tighten your hold on his hair as your orgasm crept up your body- and it was as you heard him groan with pleasure, as he sucked your clit into his mouth like a man starved, that it all came crumbling down, and you felt your body light on fire as your climax took over.

You were moaning and crying into the air for a good minute before you were sane again.

Only Joel hadn’t stopped eating you out for a single second, and even then, he looked like he had no intention of doing so

“Baby-baby” you whimpered, having to literally pull him away from your core.

He was smiling like a kid, and you couldn’t help but follow suit.

He put your bikini back in place, and then stood up, his hands lingering on your waist

“You’re crazy”

He couldn’t help but kiss you before answering,

“You make me”

4K notes · View notes

little-miss-dilf-lover · 3 months ago

Text

THE SUNDAY REGULAR. 18+

bucky barnes x waitress fem!reader

wc. 4605 summary. you’re a waitress working at some shitty run-down diner in the middle of nowhere. and every sunday you see the same person at the same time walk through the doors. the pair of you forming a bond over time. though today, he doesn’t at his usual time and you begin to worry that you’ll have to wait another week to see him. the regular then finds out some information about you that he didn’t wish to know, and in turn, information you didn’t wish to share. warnings. 18+ only! very brief indirect drug description, reader is engaged, small moment of violence, wound tending, repressed feelings, yearning and pining bc its yummy, idiots in love, filth, pinv, premature ejaculation (he can't help it. he's wanted her a while, okay?) creampie. mdni

⎯ ☆ ⎯

Sunday, 8:26pm. 24 minutes until closing time.

40-some miles outside of Washington DC.

You peer up at the clock on the wall behind you and weirdly find yourself hoping that it was displaying a lower number — wishing it to be an hour, maybe two earlier. You would never wish to be working at the diner for longer than you needed to be, but you were a customer short today and you were starting to grow restless.

The regular's presence becoming all the more noticeable as the hours passed you by. They were truly the only reason you began to pick up Sunday shifts in the first place.

Your hope begins to dwindle as you watch the second hand briskly move its way around the clock. There was a very strong chance that you won’t be seeing him walk through those doors tonight and you had to start welcoming that possibility. Unless your Sunday regular shows up in the next twenty minutes, you’re sadly going to have to wait another week more.

You rest your arms across the counter of the bar, hands stretching outwards as you slot your head between your upper arms. Using the moment as a way to ease the strain in your eyes. You hear the sound of what you know for certain is a motorcycle, his motorcycle, and your head whips up, checking if your suspicions were as true as you knew them to be.

And it was. It was him. Only several hours later than what he usually is.

You twist on your heel to the wall of mugs behind you and reach for the cleanest one you can see. You place it onto the bar just as he walks through the doors, meeting him with one of those smiles you only show to those who mean most.

The feeling of relief fills your lungs as you in turn fill his cup, pouring him some black coffee.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show,” you welcome as you turn your back to him, placing the pot back onto its spot.

“You serve the best coffees, how could I not?” Bucky smiles, taking a seat at the empty bar — dismissing his usual seat in the far left booth against the window.

“The trick is to let it sit for hours at a time.”

He takes a sip and nods, letting the particularly bitter liquid sit in his mouth a moment. “Yeah that would do it.”

“The kitchen is closed for the night, but I can offer you some pie? I was gonna take it home but it’s all yours if you want it,” you offer, suggesting a compromise to his usual order. “It’s pecan,” you tempt, pulling the paper box out from under the counter.

He looks at the singular slice and back up to you briefly, appreciating the rather selfless offer. But he couldn’t do that to you, it was yours.

“No no, I’m fine thanks. The coffee will do just fine.”

As you close the box, something shiny on your left hand catches his attention. He grows quiet and his eyes become fixed on your hand atop the box, focusing on an engagement ring.

You snatch your hand away and laugh dryly, hiding it like you were ashamed of it.

“I uh, didn’t know you were—” he stops himself, pulling his gaze away from the band. He swallows thickly and coughs in his fist. “Congratulations.”

It doesn’t match your other jewellery, he thought. It's the wrong metal.

“Thanks,” you smile weakly, stashing your hand into your pinny – keeping it from his view, and quite frankly your own. “It all happened kinda fast, but uh,” you pause, trying to find the words. “I’m happy.”

Such a lie.

“Good,” he forces a smile. “I’m happy for you.”

You clear your throat, and nod. “Thanks.”

You each still rather awkwardly, the announcement –or if that’s what you’d call it– making you both fumble for conversation for the first time ever. But what else could one say after that?

Bucky stares down at the mug in his hand, mentally plucking out conversation starters — hoping to think of something to say. But frankly, he was rather devastated, heartbroken even. The sight of the engagement ring feeling like a knife to the chest. Any chance of speaking was likely to result in further heartbreak.

He really thought you liked him.

He peers up at you when he notices your silence, though your eyes never meet his — they've become rather focused on a spot above his shoulder. He follows your eyeline and sees two men by a tree swapping items from their pockets.

Bucky’s gaze slowly finds its way back to you, moving slow like he was reluctant to see the upset cloud within your eyes.

“That’s him, right?” he asks hesitantly.

You can only scoff, head shaking disapprovingly as you watch the exchange play out. You had already previously suspected that the quitting was a ruse, and now you have the proof. All of it happening in front of your eyes.

“He said he stopped,” you mutter under your breath, forgetting your present company.

Though Bucky hears, he doesn’t say anything. Rather he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s quite sure he’d make the situation worse if something were to be uttered from his mouth. But in truth, he was disappointed in your choices, and while he doesn’t know you a whole lot –nor you him– he’s always had the assumption that you were strong of mind. That you were capable of making good choices for yourself.

“I need to start closing up,” you hint, avoiding Bucky’s eyes as you make yourself busy behind the counter.

Any other time you would’ve given anything to stall closing up shop, do anything to just spend a few more minutes in his company. But after everything that’s happened in the last few minutes, you could barely look at him. Quite frankly, you were embarrassed with the events of it all, mortified and ashamed even.

You knew you were making a mistake with your choice of partners, and you could tell that Bucky knew it too.

“I understand,” he nods.

He stands and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ten and placing it under his mug. He can only observe you from behind, your lack of eye contact telling him all he needs to know. And so he slowly begins gathering his things, stalling to see if you would give him anything more than the back of your head.

“I’ll see you next Sunday?” he questions as he backs away from the counter.

He prays that you would give him a smile or wave perhaps, just something before he reaches the doors, though you never do — you just continue to busy yourself with things that do not require your attention. You couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes or for him to see the heartbreak in yours, so you faked work: adjusting already adjusted cups on the shelf.

“Yeah,” you hum, your back still to him.

As soon as you hear the doors shut, you begin to quickly make your way around the diner to shut things off, finding yourself in a rush to confront your fiancé outside. You lock the front doors and head out into the back, grabbing your things so you could exit through the kitchen.

You see and hear your partner’s truck off to the side and head towards it, walking to your fiancé in the driver's seat.

“You’re a liar,” you shout over his loud music, talking to him through the rolled down window. “You are a fucking liar!” your voice grows louder, physically expressing the hatred in your heart.

He shuts the music off with a smack to the console and turns to look at you.

“You’re outta your fucking mind, you know that?” he returns, his tone matching yours.

You scoff, laughing at him like it was entertaining. “Wow,” you shake your head.

“Okay then, give me back that ring,” he extends his hand towards you out the window, opening his hand. “You clearly don’t trust me, give it back.”

“Oh what, the ring you found at a fair?” you scoff. You yank it off your finger and throw it into his truck. “It’s the wrong metal anyway. I don’t wear that colour.”

In the front parking lot, Bucky waits. Lingering and pretending that he was trying to fix and adjust something on his bike. He could tell something were to go down, and he couldn’t leave you on your own to fend for yourself with a man that’s off his head. He hears voices raise from the back and his ears prickle, his suspicions proving to be correct. He slowly makes his way around on foot, walking a little faster when he hears a man’s voice raise.

“Get your own way home,” your fiancé, well, now ex-fiancé yells and unmutes his deafening music, turning it up even louder.

You weren’t sure if you were able to say anything more without crying, so instead you hit his truck, kicking a dent into the rusty door. He shouts something indecipherable and opens the door to get at you, but you push on it, shutting it closed.

And in that moment warning signs flicker rapidly in Bucky’s brain – his brisk footsteps becoming a hastened jog. He didn’t know this man or what he was capable of, and he did not want to find out.

But before he could get there, he sees you land a hefty punch to the man’s face inside the truck, a shout and a curse following after. Bucky rushes to your side, like he was offering his assistance, but the man in the truck speeds off — the large, manly company seeming to scare him off.

“Are you okay?” he swallows thickly, heart pounding in his chest. He turns you by the shoulders to face him, a look of pure worry slapped across his face.

You stare off into the distance, gaze detached as if you were trying to process everything. It all happened so fast. You direct your eyes to focus on Bucky and nod slowly, finally able to look at him once again.

And while one may think that you were lying with that nod, it was one of truth, because you really were okay. Maybe for the first time since you put on that ring.

All you can do is hug him, arms wrapping tightly around him as you bury yourself in his comfort. At first he’s reluctant, his own arms hanging at his sides while he debates with himself. This is all he’s ever wanted, why else would he travel forty miles for a cup of shitty coffee and dry pie? And so, he finally gives in, his arms finding themselves circulating you, hands tight to your back as if he’s trying to prolong this moment. Take it all in, in case this were to be the last.

You eventually pull away and look down at your feet, staring at the cracked concrete beneath you. “I uhm,” you start. “My car’s in the shop and he was my ride.”

“Of course,” is all he says, understanding exactly what you were trying to ask of him.

During the short walk to his motorcycle out front, nothing was said with words — all of the talking being said through glances and smiles, small shy looks away when gazes were to meet.

Reaching his bike, he hands you his helmet and hops on, extending a hand to help you get on behind him. You were hesitant at first, the thought of being on a motorcycle for the first time ever made you feel sick. But you knew you were in safe company, him giving you his own helmet proving so.

You reach your arms around his waist, securing yourself to him as your fingers interlock around his stomach. His eyes close briefly, the feel of having you so close to him makes it difficult to breathe. He glances downwards, wanting to curate the memory in his brain.

He watches your hands adjust in front of him and sees a lack of shine on your left ring finger. The sight practically made his heart swell.

Conversation was non-existent on the way to your house, which one would expect while on a motorcycle, but that didn’t mean neither of you had nothing to say. Quite the opposite in fact.

He pulls up outside yours with the help of your direction and shuts off the engine. He helps you off first, holding your hand as if to give you balance before he joins you on the ground. Standing a few short inches from you.

You pull out your keys from your bag and head to your small, quaint house — walking towards the windchimes and well attend to potted flowers on the porch. Bucky shadows you, keeping a respectful distance as he walks you to your house.

“Would uh,” you pause and turn to look at him, offering a smile. “Would you like to come in for a bit?”

He so desperately wants to, though he’s not sure if you’re in the right frame of mind to have a guest –practically a stranger– in your house.

“I promise I make better coffee than the diner,” you playfully offer, exhausting routes to get him to come inside.

He hesitates, footing scuffing against the doormat as he battles with himself.

“Only a small one,” he smiles and begins to take off his jacket.

Your smile widens and you turn to open the door, making your way inside. You flick on a couple lamps and gesture him inside, trying to make him feel comfortable. Doing whatever you can to get him to stick around a little longer.

“Take a seat,” you nod to the sofa in front. “Be right back.”

You head into your room and mimic a silent scream, you couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited to have a man in your house. Undressing from your work uniform, you put on your pyjamas from the night before: mismatched oversized tee and plaid bottoms. You didn’t want any exaggerated effort in your appearance to be known in case it makes him flee, so you opt only for a few spritzes of deodorant.

In the other room, Bucky shares a similar feeling. He chews on a mint from his pocket and adjusts his hair, suddenly feeling a sense of pressure in the way that you might now perceive him.

You join him in the main room a few moments later and head to the kitchen, making a start on the drinks.

“Can I ask you a question?” you call out to Bucky and he turns to follow your voice.

“Anything.”

“Do you even black coffee?” you ask, a lively tinge in your voice.

“I do,” he mimics your tone, nodding a singular time.

“Okay, let me rephrase,” you pause and reach into the freezer, pulling out several large ice cubes. “Do you like the diner’s back coffee?” you smile, heading towards him as you twist the ice into a dishtowel, securing it.

His lips form a straight line as he thinks about the weight of the question. Either way, his answer would contain a lie of some kind.

“I don’t,” he answers truthfully.

“I knew it,” you smile and plonk yourself down beside him. “No one likes our coffee.”

He twists slightly to look at you, watching your grin widen as your eyes fall to your lap. You’ve begun icing your hand from the punch earlier, holding the cold compress to your knuckles. His eyes fall to your hand, watching you struggle to hold the awkward shape in your non-dominant hand.

He once again battles with himself, mentally weighing it all in his mind. He wanted to help you, but he didn’t know if he could go without not being able to touch your skin ever again. But as he continued to watch you struggle with the shape, he thought that surely one touch couldn't hurt.

“Let me,” he whispers, moving closer.

And so his hands reach for yours hesitantly, holding your hurt one carefully within his left, metal hand as the other presses the compress to your skin. Your eyes flicker up to his, silently appreciating how attentive and gentle he’s being with you. And how he seems to be doing it all from the kindness of his heart — no other ulterior motive following.

It made you realise how much of a mistake you made by saying yes to that proposal earlier this week. How much it’s complicated things if you would have just been honest with yourself from the start. You only wanted security, and you’ve grown to realise that what you were getting with your now ex-fiancé, wasn’t safety. It was fear. Fear of being alone and for admitting you had deeper looming feelings for your regular than you had first realised.

And while Bucky could only speak on his behalf, he always had a feeling there was something more between you. He wouldn’t have travelled eighty miles every Sunday if he didn’t think there was a possibility that you could in fact like him too.

So, he enjoys this moment, eyes transfixed on the kindling of your fingers atop your lap. It’s all so casual, so intimate. The feeling in person far better than what he’s imagined.

You wanted something more. You wanted it to progress into something you weren’t yet quite sure of. So, you place your free hand atop his, holding the back of his hand as he attends to the swelling on your knuckles.

He meets your eyes to see that your focus was already set on him, gaze soft and trusting as you watch him tend to you. The ice beginning to melt between the warmth of your touch.

You move your hand from atop his and extend it outwards, slowly reaching for the side of his face. You hold him there as you lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek as if to show your thanks. It wasn’t originally the placement you had in mind, but truthfully you copped out at the last minute — far too afraid to be the one to ruin things.

He sensed that.

And so, he took the pressure off you by being the assertive one: guiding you back in for a kiss to the lips before you were to get too far. It was clearly what you both wanted, the prolonged contact of your lips a physical declaration of that.

Setting the ice towel on the coffee table, you bring your other hand to his face, holding him within your palms. And in turn his hands slip up to your waist, grip tight like he was afraid that if he were to let go, you’d disappear like you’ve done in all of his dreams before.

The kiss grows deeper and you each move closer, both eager to make this moment last. But it has to end at some point and Bucky parts away first, forehead resting to yours briefly. The tips of your noses rubbing against one another.

“You’ve had a tough night,” he catches his breath, speaking quietly between the close distance. “You shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“I’m not,” you pull away, shaking your head at him sternly. “I have wanted this for so long,” you finally admit, your hands falling to rest on his shoulders.

He just simply stares at you, head tilting as his lips open to speak.

“You’re the reason I started picking up Sunday shifts,” you whisper, trying to persuade him that your feelings about progressing with him could not be swayed. And that this is what you wanted.

His eyes lower bashfully and his head shakes. You were the reason he would drive that distance every week.

“And, I…” you cut yourself off, pausing as if it had all become too real. So you change what you were going to say, thinking it may be too soon to proclaim such wild, outlandish feelings. “And I made a mistake… I didn’t love him.”

Bucky places his fleshed hand to your cheek, holding you dearly while you speak into existence the things he too feels.

“I couldn’t have what I wanted… so I settled,” you divert from his eyes, suddenly aware of how little he’s speaking and how much you are..

He itches closer and closer, mouth ghosting yours once again. “And what did you want?” he whispers, speaking against your lips. It was like he was trying to pry it out of you for his own validation, tease it out of you almost.

All you can muster in response is a small, “You.”

And that's all he needed.

He directs you to lay lengthwise across the sofa, his body joining yours mere seconds later to over atop — the weight of him supported so as not to crush you. You wrap yourself around him as quick as your own body could allow it: bent knees lifting to hug at his sides, arms wrapping around his neck. Hips winding up against his desperately, keeping him close.

The deepened kisses divert, and the trail of his mouth moves across your face, heading for the skin under your ear. He litters a few flutery kisses into the patch before lowering, peppering open-mouth kisses down the side of your throat.

He wished that this moment could last, that he too could last. But he was fairly certain his stamina would fail him tonight, the way you look and smell and feel and sound all hindering his self-control. The sheer fact that this was all finally happening makes him feel like a very weak man indeed.

And suddenly the panic settled in for him. He had nothing. He wasn’t expecting this to happen, especially not tonight.

You sense a sudden worry and pull back, lusty heavy eyes flickering across his face. “What is it?” you ask breathlessly.

“I don’t have anything,” he hints, waiting for you to fill in the blanks yourself.

“Don’t worry about it,” you reassure, wandering hands moving down his sides. “I do… I’m on something,” you reassure.

He looks quite visibly relieved.

Your fingers slink into the hem of his long sleeve and you tug on the fabric. And while you’re eager to get him out of it, your pace remains slow. Like you were savouring it all. Your fingers skit over his skin as more of it becomes exposed, the top almost all the way off by now. He helps you help him out, alternating the anchoring of his hand so that you could pull his arms from either sleeve.

You drop it to the floor and in turn he starts to undress you from your t-shirt. His knuckles skim your stomach and the slow lifting begins to feel tortuous, the presence of him growing overwhelming.

And when your top half is finally bare, he adjusts himself over you, itching down your body. He presses a trail of kisses around each tit and down your stomach, moving hesitantly to the waistband of your pyjamas. His lips halt in place, searing white hot warmth to just under your belly button.

Your hands follow with him, fingers weaving through his dark hair as if to offer an ounce of the pleasure he’s giving you right now. His movements are slow and teasing as he starts to undress your lower half — removing both your underwear and bottoms with the same motion.

He stills for a few seconds, taking all of you in. How surreal that it is that you’re lying there completely naked on the couch before him, your gaze intently following every one of his movements. Sealing a final kiss to your upper, inner thigh, he sits back on his heels to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Tugging them both down to pool at his knees — saving the trouble later on.

Bucky moves back up you to resume his prior position. Chests close, faces even closer. He reaches between your bodies and to his rock hard cock, carefully wrapping a hand around himself as he guides his aching dick towards you. Touch faint to ensure things don’t end prematurely for you both.

He presses his head to your folds, coating himself in your arousal and you both gasp at the sheer contact of the other. You were both virtually at the edge already, despite not having touched each other properly yet. It was as if this has been building for months and months and months. And now that you’re finally touching skin, it’s nearly impossible to contain yourselves. Control yourselves.

He taps his head at your cunt a couple times, swirling it around briefly before lining up with you, tip of his cock resting perfectly against your entrance. Stilling for a second, he simply allows a moment to soak all of this in, take it in that this really is happening. But he can’t leave you waiting too long, especially when you’re looking up at him so keenly.

And so he leans in to kiss you, lips locked with yours as he simultaneously feeds himself into you, cock worming its way inside your pussy. You gasp into his mouth and the noise vibrates on your tongues, the sound becoming a strained muffle. He mirrors you with a groan of his own, unable to keep himself quiet from the way you feel wrapped around him.

Bucky retracts his hand from his dick and places it on your cheek, holding you as he sinks more of himself inside, moving slowly so as to allow you time to adjust. Eventually easing the entirety of himself in you. Balls pressing firmly to your folds from the depth of him.

You feel even better than he imagined. So warm, so snug, so safe. And he has to pause, halt any further movement so that he doesn’t explode right now and then.

Your fingers grasp at his hair, using it as something to hold onto — something to pour your intense want into. You break the kiss and your head falls back against the cushion, weight of it growing far too heavy to hold up.

“I can feel you in my stomach,” you whine in a whisper, eyes half lidded as you peer up at him.

He shakes his head and his brows furrow, the utter filth you whispered seeming to strip him of his control, and he wasn’t entirely happy about it either. He’s wanted this for seven months and it was over in as many seconds. He groans faintly from atop and strength vanishes from his neck; forehead resting against yours as he empties himself into you. Muttering indecipherable nonsense

“I'm so sorry,” he murmurs, clearly embarrassed.

You’ve grown rather engrossed in the lewd display above you and you find yourself smiling, head shaking sweetly. “Not at all.”

He kisses the underside of your jaw and the crown of your head tilts backwards, exposing the full length of your throat to him. His mouth linger on the base of it and you begin to speak, your words vibrating against his lips.

“Well,” you pause. “I think…”

“Mhm?” he hums, head lifting to look you in the face.

“I think you should stay the night,” you start, eyes honing in on his, emphasising your severity. “And I think you should make it up to me.”

Who was he to object such a request?

“Yeah?” he smiles lazily, speaking softly between the close distance. “Lead me to your room.”

And who were you to object such a request?

⎯ ☆ ⎯

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x reader #bucky x reader smut #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic

1K notes · View notes

shawtuzi · 7 months ago

Text

thinkin’ of sheriff toji!

cw include: black coded!fem reader, toji is very sweet in this hehe, lots of fluff, premature ejaculation (he came in his pants while they were making out), size kink, breeding kink, oral f & m receiving, protected & unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, backshots, pussyjob, mating press

sfw

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who was the biggest n’ strongest man you’d ever met in all your days. standing at a whopping six three and well over two hundred pounds of pure handsomeness.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who always stopped by your booth at the farmers market on sunday’s, partaking in every homemade sweet treat you had to offer. ‘these cream puffs are almost as sweet as you, sugar’ he’d always say with a low chuckle, his heart relishing in the way you’d act so bashful afterwards.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who always helped you pack your booth up after the farmers market was closed. he’d do most of the work, insisting that a ‘pretty lady’ such as yourself shouldn’t be worried about such things when he’s around.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who smells of aftershave and on a rare occasion cinnamon! he’d always had a bit of an oral fixation so best believe he was always chewing on his favorite cinnamon gum.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who was elated when he found out you were unwed and not seeing anyone. the second he saw you selling your sweet lil pastries on that fateful sunday, he was already picturing how cute you’d look next to him.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who passes by your house every tuesday and friday morning on his morning runs. you always refilled your hummingbird feeders on those mornings so each time he passed by he had to say hello bc duh! as you converse with him you can’t help but notice how….nice and toned his body is, especially when he lifts his shirt up to wipe his sweat away! the happy trail that led into his sweats definitely had you curious but he didn’t need to know that.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who picked up a habit of calling you everything but your name. pretty girl, sugar, darlin’, peach, honeysuckle—you name it!! it didn’t bother you in the slightest especially with that low country drawl of his hehe.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who is flooredddd when you bring him lunch at the station. you looked breathtaking in your pretty pink sundress and matching kitten heels, he could’ve ate you up instead if he was being completely honest.

“now what do we have here?” toji chuckled, tipping his hate up to get a better look at you. you didn’t say anything but your toothy smile said more than enough for him. you sat the pink tupperware in front of him with shaky hands, giggling when he was quick to pull the top off.

“s’nothin’ special just some baked ziti i whipped up, i remember you saying it was your favorite when you were younger! n-not that i made it specifically for you of course, but i m-mean i certainly wouldn’t mind making you a-anything you wanted….”

as toji watched you babble he couldn’t help but let his lips lift into a smirk—were you….flustered?

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who picked up on your crush on him faster than it took you to even register it. after you brought him lunch he thought it was only fair that he treated you to dinner, granted he quite literally served you meat and potatoes bc let’s face it he’s still a man. that night he learned a bunch about you, securing his bond with you even more.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who finally grew a pair and asked you on a proper date. his ears were as red as your famous fried tomatoes, and he stumbled over his words but you said yes regardless with the biggest smile he’d ever seen you wear. although he was sure you liked him just as much as he liked you he couldn’t help but be shocked that you said yes!

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who took you to the fanciest restaurant in town, insisting that you get whatever your little heart desired. he was looking as handsome as ever in his formal jacket and button up shirt, and you looked liked the most darling doll in your pastel pink dress. you recalled him saying one time he absolutely adored you in the color pink, so pink on the first date was definitely a no brainer.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who finally bit the bullet and asked you to be his darling after your third date. you both shared a steamy kiss afterwards and as corny as it sounds one of your legs did lift up a tiny bit out of instinct when his lips smushed into yours <333

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who surprisingly takes you out dancing every other week. sure dinners and picnics are fun especially there’s a little making out but he believes this is where the intimacy lies.

nsfw

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who came in his pants the first time you two made out. it wasn’t his fault it rlly wasn’t!! it’s just the way you were grinding your hips into his lap as you tongues tangled together that he couldn’t help but bust a nut right then and there!

“a-agh f-fuck,” toji growled against your lips, his hands gripping harshly onto the plushness of your love handles. “y-you okay?” your voice was breathy and boarder line whiny as you inspected toji’s face for anything wrong. he grunted something about him being fine then buried his face in your neck, inhaling the sweet smell of your vanilla n caramel scented perfume. it wasn’t until you felt a sudden warmth against your panty clad pussy that you realized what the big man was so embarrassed about hehe.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who couldn’t help but slobber all over your pussy like a dog the first time he ate you out. you’d never known what pure ecstasy felt like until you felt toji’s plush lips wrap around your swollen clit.

“to-tojiiii!” you squealed, pink pedicured toes curling in pleasure when you felt toji’s tongue draw figure eights around your clit. pulled the skin above your clit up, spitting on the pink bud before sucking it back into his mouth. he’s pulled three orgasms out of you now and frighteningly enough he wasn’t showing any signs of stopping.

“stop—mmph, movin’” toji purred, throwing his arm over your stomach to keep you in place. his skillful tongue began to draw the letters of his name, a deep chuckle rumbled in his chest when your hips bucked upwards. “can ya guess what i’m spellin’ peach?” he asked spelling his name once more. just as he finished the dot on the ‘i’ you came with a loud scream of his name, your fluids soaking his chin and neck.

toji sloppily wiped his mouth with the back of his hands before moving himself up the bed to hover over you. “you’re so smart darlin’ i was spellin’ my name,” he chuckled, squishing your cheeks together before giving you a messy kiss, which you happily returned.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who can’t help but jerk off to the thought of you daily. he’d be minding his business on patrol until he’d see something that reminded him of you and from there it was over. god did he love eating your lil pussy till you cried, he liked it so much that even the mere thought had him popping a boner. almost every night he’d call you, panting and groaning into the phone as he beat his dick to your voice—it wouldn’t even have to be sexual, you talking about just anything had him leaking like a faucet.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji whose dick was as big as his heart. i’m talking eight and a half inches and so thick that the first time he showed it to you you were worried that he wouldn’t fit in your mouth/pussy. ‘don’ worry peach i’ll make it fit’ he said to you as he ran that fat tip over your glossed up lips.

“hah! s-shit pretty girl ‘yer takin’ it like a champ,” toji grinned, teeth clamping onto his bottom lip. you whimpered around his dick, spit dripping from your mouth and foaming up at the base creating the perfect mess. toji preferred his head sloppy and you delivered, the obscene noises of you choking around his cock sounded like music to his ears.

when toji cums he cums a lot….like a lot a lot. i mean look at the breeder balls on this man, he was bound to give you a mouthful—and he did!!

“take it all sweetness, swallow my cum like a good girl,” toji growled, caressing the bulge in your cheek. it was so much it began to drip from your mouth and onto his thighs but neither of you seemed to care. he tasted salty, but there was this tinge of sweetness to him that had you moaning like a bitch in heat. toji was shocked, yet extremely turned on when you whined for him to feed you more of his cum, your doe eyes looking as shiny as ever.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who almost shed tears the first time you two made love. he handled you as if you were the worlds most precious china, his calloused hands touching you ever softly with love laced in every squeeze have gave your body.

“s’good toji,” you mewled, tightening your legs around his slim waist. toji pressed his lips against yours, happily swallowing up every moan and whine you let out. his skillful hips slammed into yours, his hard stomach rubbing deliciously against your puffy clit. “such a good pussy. y’see darlin’? told you she’d be able to take me,” he slurred, groaning rather loudly when he heard you pussy squelch at a particularly hard thrust.

he used protection of course, but the thought of him being able to nut inside you had his orgasm approaching far sooner than he wanted to.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who made you squirt for the first time ever that same night, his eyes as wide as saucers as a fountain of your essence hit his lower stomach. you were utterly embarrassed, hiding your face in his pillows as you kicked your feet at him to not tease you. he did tease you, but it’s okay bc he thought that shit was so. fucking. hot.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who made it his mission to make you squirt every single time you two fooled around.

“c’mon sugar, where that special spot of yours eh?” toji hummed, the rough pads of his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive parts. he was knuckle deep inside your pussy, absolutely determined to get you to squirt on his fingers. you weren’t even too sure what he meant by your ‘special spot’ until his fingers bumped into that spongy area that had your eyes rolling back.

“ohh? right here huh? is that the spot peach?” he smirked, increasing the pressure of his fingers. your thighs began to tremble, drool slipping past your parted lips and onto your chin. “o-oh my goodness!” you squealed, hips pushing upwards when toji pressed roughly on your lower tummy. your thighs trembled violently as your release hit you like a truck, wave after wave of your cum soaking toji’s hand and wrist.

when you finished toji slapped your pussy followed by ‘atta fucking girl, my peach is so good f’me.’

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who has a habit of fucking you on top of his patrol car. he just can’t help himself!! especially when you’re all tipsy and handsy after your dates :(( it was supposed to be a one time thing but soon every other week he’d have you on top of car, panties around your ankles while he fucked you like a madman.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who fucked you on every surface of his house once you finally let him hit raw. you brought it up randomly one night that you had started taking birth control a few weeks prior and wanted to feel him, all of him.

“fuckkk honey,” toji hissed, pushing his hips forward one last time before releasing inside of you for the fourth time that night. your legs were practically jello, your hands holding onto the kitchen counter for dear life. you didn’t even know how you ended up from the living room to the kitchen, but you were in no place to do thinking rn sooo oh well!

you gasped when toji flipped your body around, strong arms lifting you off the ground. you weakly wrapped your legs around his waist, mewling when you felt his tip press snugly against your clit. “jesus you’re worse than the drugs i lock those sorry fuckers at the station up for,” toji grinned, gripping roughly onto your ass cheeks.

“d-don’t say stuff like that honey,” you sniffled, back arching when you felt the coolness of the wall against it. toji now had you pressed against the wall, his head tilted down, “a little to the left and—mmph, there we gooo.” your dropped open when toji slipped inside you once again, your walls hugging his dick tightly. you could feel him throbbing inside you, dick begging for yet another release.

“you’re relentless,” you hissed, manicured nails digging into his toned back. toji chuckled, flexing his back muscles to soothe the stings from your nails.

‘mmm only for you sugar’

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji whose become a serious fan of backshots ever since he got with you. you’re on the curvier side, giving him lots of soft to grip and slap to his hearts content. hearts form in his eyes every time he gets to see the beautiful recoil of your ass against his pelvis.

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ sheriff!toji who develops a serious breeding kink the more he gets to fuck you raw. not only does the sight of his cum leaking from spent pussy draw something animalistic out of him, but he also thinks you’d make the prettiest mommy <33

“how pretty,” toji murmured to himself, pushing softly on your stomach. a flood of his cum dripped from your cunt, soiling the sheets beneath your trembling body. “y’er gonna make a such a pretty momma one day,” he spoke softly, rubbing his hands on the backs of your thighs before pushing them wayyy back.

“at this rate m’sure it’ll ha-happen soon,” your giggle was replaced with a moan when toji placed his cock between your folds, his hips drawing back before pushing forward. his tongue poked out to swipe over his bottom lip, a pool of drool forming on his tongue at the thought of knocking you up.

‘you think?’

#boarder credit @bernardsbendystraws #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x black reader #toji x you #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jjk x black reader #jjk x reader

2K notes · View notes

millermouth · 8 months ago

Text

Teach You

Daryl Dixon x Reader

warnings: smutttttt

notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation

She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it

The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, she’d said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.

He’d almost said no, but the way she’d looked at him—smiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone else—made him mutter, “Yeah, alright.”

Now, he’s sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if it’s too late to leave.

“Don’t sit too quiet in there,” she calls, teasing. “You’ll scare the furniture.”

Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. “Furniture don’t need me to make it nervous.”

She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. “You kidding? You’re terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.” She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.

Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. “S’not what people usually say.”

She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. “What do they say?”

He doesn’t answer, staring into the spaghetti like it’s gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.

“You’re not used to this, huh?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.

He shrugs. “Dunno what ‘this’ is.”

“Someone flirting with you,” she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. “How’s that feel, by the way?”

He almost chokes. “Ain’t what you’re doin’.”

“It’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. “Y/N—”

She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. “If I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.”

The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. “Ain’t right.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… too old.” He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. “You could do better.”

Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. “You really think that?”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “Don’t got think ‘bout it. It’s true.”

She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, “When’s the last time someone told you you’re wrong?”

He tenses under her touch but doesn’t pull away. “Not wrong—”

“Daryl,” she interrupts gently. “You’ve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And it’s bullshit.”

He stiffens. “Ain’t—”

“Bullshit,” she says again, firmer this time. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

He frowns but nods hesitantly.

“Have you ever… been with someone?”

His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

“That’s a no, then.” Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.

“Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.

“It means everything,” she counters, stepping closer. “Because if no one’s shown you what it feels like to be wanted, how’re you supposed to know?”

His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What’re you doin’?”

She smiles, tilting her head. “Only what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.”

He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “I...I dunno.”

“It’s okay to want, Daryl,” she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.

His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.

Her voice drops lower, softer. “You don’t even know where to put your hands, do you?”

“I— I can’t—”

She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. “Start here.”

He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.” She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. Only if you want me to.”

His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Yeah. I want it. I want you.”

Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.

"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"

He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.

Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."

Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.

"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.

She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.

"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."

Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."

"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.

As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.

Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"

"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.

"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.

Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."

His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."

"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.

"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."

She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.

"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."

Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.

"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.

"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.

His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.

She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.

"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."

Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.

"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."

"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."

With newfound confidence—or maybe just desperation—Daryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.

Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makes—low and ragged—has his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him he’s never felt before.

His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.

She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. “That’s kinda the point.”

Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. “Here,” she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.

His mind races. He’s never had a woman like this before—so wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, he’s thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, it’s happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesn’t know where to begin.

She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.

His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.

She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.

A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moans—loud, uninhibited—and the sound nearly undoes him.

"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."

He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.

She’s beautiful—blissed out and needy, her body moving with his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. He can’t take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.

When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. “Did you just…?” she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.

His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.

“That is so hot,” she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.

Daryl’s head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. “Hot?” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.

She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. “Yeah. You’re so worked up just from me, Daryl. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her words make his head spin. She’s serious—dead serious—and it hits him like a freight train. She isn’t mocking him, isn’t annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.

“You really mean that?” he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.

Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. “Of course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?”

He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t understand it—can’t wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like him—but the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.

Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. “Wanna go again?” she whispers, her voice like honey. “I’ve got a few more things I can teach you.”

His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. She’s not just enjoying herself—she’s reveling in it, like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as he has.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. “Yeah, okay.”

Her smile widens, and it’s nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is real—that she’s here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.

Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Good. ‘Cause we’re just getting started.”

Part II

#gooood morning!#the walking dead #daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl twd #Daryl Dixon smut #smutty

2K notes · View notes

inlovewithquestionablecharacters · 1 month ago

Text

Bob Floyd X Reader: Speedy Landing

a/n: Can’t stop thinking about Bob cumming in his pants from desperation and being embarrassed. So yeah, that’s what this is, porn with no plot.

Warnings: smut, premature ejaculation, Bob being Bob, no use of y/n

Word count: 659

You couldn’t blame him—it wasn’t his fault. You were so beautiful, and so very desperate for him. It was impossible for him not to be just as desperate for you.

He was lying on the couch, you on top of him. Both of you were fully clothed and fully consumed by your lip-lock. He hadn’t even managed to get his uniform off before you jumped on him. The flight suit always seemed to put you in a good mood.

In between filthy kisses, you pulled back to whisper against his lips.

“Missed you.”

“I was only gone for a week,” he said with a soft laugh.

You pulled him into another messy kiss, nipping at his lip before answering.

“A week without you is a long time. Far too long.”

Bob’s brows furrowed as you moved to lick at his neck, soft whines escaping his lips.

You didn’t even realize you were doing it—not really. The way your hips moved—slow, unconscious little rocks against the growing bulge beneath you. Like your body knew what it wanted before your mind could catch up. And he let you, because how the hell could he not? He was already so hard it hurt.

It was remarkable how quickly you could get him needy for you.

The truth was, he’d missed you too. Every night he thought of you—of your warm body beside him. They weren’t even dirty thoughts, just thoughts of missing you.

He hadn’t even realized how touch-starved he was until now—until your body was pressing against him like this, warm and eager and so heartbreakingly close. Bob’s hands gripped your waist, fingers digging in, but not to stop you. Never to stop you. Just to hold on, desperately clawing at you as you continued to move against him.

God, how he loved you.

How you smelled. How you felt. How his name slipped from your lips in a breathless sigh.

He could barely breathe. You didn’t let him escape your mouth, trying to consume him entirely with only a feral kiss.

He buried his face in your neck, breathing hard, biting down on a groan as you kept moving against him, grinding in just the right way without even trying. You let soft pants into his ears, mouth moving over his neck. You were kissing him like you couldn’t get enough, like you needed him, and it was all too much—your mouth, your weight on him, the friction, the heat.

It was like a switch flipped in his head—like suddenly he’d been able to see through the foggy haze of lust. His eyes widened in realization, hands grabbing onto you with more desperation.

“Honey, please,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. “You have to stop. I’m—fuck, I’m gonna—”

But it was already too late. His hips bucked up in their own accord. He tensed beneath you with a choked, broken sound as he came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

You didn’t even realize what had happened at first—not until you felt it. A sudden warmth seeping through the front of his flight suit, pressing hot and sticky against your inner thigh. You froze mid-motion, blinking down at him in surprise.

Bob’s face crumpled, equal parts overwhelmed and mortified.

“Fuck—I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to. You were just—Jesus, I tried to hold on—”

But you weren’t upset. Not even close.

“You came in your pants,” you whispered, almost in awe.

He groaned, covering his face with one hand.

“God, I know. Don’t—don’t say it like that.”

But you didn’t move off of him. Instead, you pressed your thighs tighter around his hips, just enough to feel the sticky warmth again. You looked at him—red-cheeked, hair mussed, lips still wet from your kisses—and you felt your core clench with the sheer heat of it. Your hips rolled forward, slow and deliberate, and he shuddered beneath you.

“That,” you said, voice low and reverent, “was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”

867 notes · View notes

mullermilkshake · 3 months ago

Text

I'll look after myself, first

Part 2 <- Part 3 -> Part 4

Jinwoo agree's to take care of you, so just let him.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - Smut, porn with plot? mentions of preganancy/preganancy sex, Jinwoo definitely has a breeding kink, breast play, nipple licking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, p in v sex, mentions of premature ejaculation, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, manipulation, mentions of swallowing/blowjob/facial

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

“Jin-Jinwoo, wait.”

There was no way you were thinking of backing out. There couldn’t be, Jinwoo handled you as delicately as possible when laying you down on the freshly made bed, you couldn't be backing out now.

“What’s wrong?” He said, practically on top of you already.

“Uh…” He couldn’t see your expression from the darkness of the purposely drawn curtains. “Well, I want to ask you something, before we…”

His cock throbbed in his pants, aching and twitching to escape, eagerly sitting to put forward its usefulness. Even so, he sucked in his breath and played with the hem of your shirt.

“Of course.”

“Well… why were you spying on me and Hae-In earlier today?”

Crap.

“You noticed me, huh?” Jinwoo played it off as something less creepy than how it left your lips. He just chuckled it away. “Your perception is higher than I thought… I wasn’t spying, I came around that way and Hae-In looked sad. I kinda panicked and disappeared in hopes you wouldn’t see when you looked over. But I guess you saw me anyway… but the reason I left the boardroom so close after you was because-”

He stopped himself and waited for you to take the bait. “Because what, Jinwoo?”

The weight on the bed shifted, his body still over yours and he could tell you were propped up onto your elbows to get a better look in the dark.

Should he tell you now? Tell you how his love for you grew from one pinnacle moment when before he never had much to do with you? Jinwoo could tell by the tone of your voice that if he came clean wholeheartedly, you would be sure to bolt. And it would take ages to claim you back and reel you in again without the association’s help.

If he came clean, you could make things difficult or try your hardest to pull from the programme all together. That would prove difficult, but the stress alone wouldn’t be adequate for getting you pregnant.

He had to get you pregnant.

“Well,” he didn’t remove his position from over you, but pulled away a fraction to make it look like he did. “I uh…. I’ve had feelings for you ever since we met and- well, I just- I mean, I wanted to reassure you that this was just sex… if you didn’t feel anything like that.”

You were speechless for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it was merely a few seconds. “You… you do? But- but what about Hae-In? She really likes you, like really likes you- if she found out that you…”

And then the news hit you, like Jinwoo’s lips did. Slowly, but with supportive tendencies to keep your confidence in check. “You- you feel that way about me?”

“I do, but I never said anything because I thought you and Jong-In were-”

“We're not together, we’re just good friends. I know he doesn’t feel that way about me. To be honest, I was happy for him because I think he has a thing for Hae-In. But she has the biggest crush on you. Oh my god this is so confusing-”

Jinwoo kissed you again, and this time he lingered his lips on yours as a sign of his own affection. “Don’t overthink it, we’re adults here. We can talk about that stuff later. But I promised that I’d look after you, right?”

“Fuck- this is so wrong.” Now you were breathlessly whispering to him. Did you want him to fuck you mercilessly for as long as you were conscious? That could be a tantalising end result.

“Maybe, but it’s just sex. No boundaries crossed.” Yet.

While it stung to hear that spill from his own lips any time he said it, the term ‘it’s just sex’ only settled you into a more textured depth of security he assumed you needed. Because eventually, it wouldn’t just be sex. Jinwoo worked so hard to level up, he could wait a little while longer before edging himself in hearing you say I love you back,

Though for now, he wanted to lap up the warmth of your breath tickling his lips, bite them and suck until your bottom lip turned purple, swollen and sore. To fondle and pinch your breasts and leave the most stunning love bites so broken on the surface, the blood vessels never calmed down.

Like marking you permanently.

But Jinwoo was a patient man, a calm being to wait out the storm for the fresh rain smell and wet grass under his feet before the main event of sitting out for the rainbow. The longer he waited, though despite his darker side never wanting to, Jinwoo could get a fantastic view of that pretty rainbow and ensure that one never faded.

Your chest rose and fell, you never said anything in the lingering pause. But, you pulled him in first before Jinwoo could get close to you himself. It set his senses alight when your fingers slid up the back of his neck and through his hair, tugging at it with little pinches.

You’d definitely done this before.

Jinwoo wrapped his arm around you, lifting you up a fraction just so your back arched and your legs spread wider for him. Fuck, he wanted to see you like this with the lights on, take note of the fucked out gaze you were going to have when he was through with you and keep it in his mind for eternity.

When Jinwoo’s hips pressed tight against yours, that little sensual gasp sent him over the edge, driving him to run his free hand up your shirt with his fingertips. Each touch, every inch, all spaces he’d never touched until now.

A space that Jong-In had never touched, and wouldn’t ever touch for as long as Jinwoo was alive. So soft, velvety and as supple as he fantasied over, tickling dainty drags over your rib cage and up to your bra.

His thoughtful caresses did not go unnoticed, not at all. Before Jinwoo could fiddle with your shirt or think of unclasping your bra, you slipped your shirt off yourself and tossed it on the floor before kissing him again, even slipping your tongue inside.

Maybe getting you on side would be easier than Jinwoo initially thought. Either that or you were getting far more into character than needed.

Either way, you were getting it tonight. And you were getting it good.

An example? When he ground his cock against you, you moaned, right into his mouth.

When Jinwoo removed his lips from yours to which you tried chasing back, he left them for your nipple, he exposed it with his long fingers so that your breast spilled out and made you writhe. He kneaded the plush of it, squeezing it in his fingers so that it bulged between them and ramped up the sensitivity. He flicked his tongue delicately over your nipple so that pussy he was grinding on had no choice but to gush before he even got a chance to slide a finger or two into.

After he ground against you again for another second, you bucked your hip as indecently as you could with your back arched the way it was. Your grip on his shoulders spurred him on to do more, to take your nipple right into his mouth and make a seal around his lips.

He could imagine your tits already swollen and full before this future hypothetical baby was even a possibility. Those hormones making you horny just for a quick fuck and tumble in the covers and that meant the many times you’d be on top, grinding yourself on Jinwoo’s cock and milk it for everything you possibly had.

The filthy thought of filling you up with his come made his cock weep, he took the forward thinking notion under the cover of darkness and undone the zipper of his pants. Gently so as to not startle you, but if his cock went any longer without attention and breathing room, he’d burst before he could shoot it inside you.

Unless it was in your mouth or face, Jinwoo wasn’t wasting a drop.

“J-Jinwoo…” You were so breathless.

“Mhm?” He never unlatched his mouth.

“I- I… give me more. Please. Please.”

Already begging for me? A good example of how he was going to train you.

With time, he’d programme you to only enjoy his cock.

His fingers, his huge loads.

His encouraging words.

And his tendency to push boundaries until you couldn’t stand anymore.

In the end, he would mold you to his expectations and nothing less.

And if anyone got in the way of that? Simple. They’d cease to exist anymore. Because this aura you gave to him was too intoxicating to kick the habit.

“You want more?” He said, leaving a wet from his lips over your skin that would have glistened beautifully had you allowed the moonlight in from the window.

“Yes.”

“If you need to stop, tell me.” Later down the line, that wasn’t an option, but he’d give you that stop valve for now.

All in the name of gaining trust, though when push came to shove and if Jinwoo had his way, you wouldn’t dare question his actions in the slightest when he was done with you.

His cock was already out, twitching in his free hand with a quick jerk while sitting up and back on his knees so he could paw and tug off your clothes and remove the barrier between you and him. When you were eventually pregnant, there was no need for underwear and pants like this. Jinwoo wanted you in those cute summer dresses that drove him insane, easy flowing and perfect for fucking you in, right over that kitchen counter for comfort and convenience.

No silly bras either.

If Jinwoo had it his way, what he obsessed over whilst testing the waters with his finger slipping inside your pussy, he’d ensure whenever you were in this apartment, you were full of his bodily fluids until they dripped out and trickled down your thighs.

One finger turned into two, then three. You took three of his thick fingers and whined, clenching your legs despite him keeping them open with his knees.

“Is that more you were thinking of? Or is this just a necessary step to that part?”

“I… I want more, I want you to fuck me, Jinwoo.” It must have been a long time since your last assisted orgasm that wasn’t ran on batteries if you were trembling like this and you hadn’t even come yet.

Though Jinwoo refused to think of who else you had slept with. He’d ask, but later down the line. But what did interest him was your quick turn around of doing the right thing for Hae-In, quite the change to his liking.

Guess he already had a hold on you.

“There’s that attitude I was looking for.” He chuckled and played with your clit by the pad of his calloused thumb. “I can definitely do that, are you ready for me?”

A little forward, but it slipped so easily from his lips and you responded so beautifully. “Yes. I’m ready- just fuck me already. Please.”

“Then stop holding back and come on my hand before I do that. It has to be really hard to hold it in.”

Your legs trembled beside him like your breaths had dramatically decreased in depth, like a shallow winded gasp. Jinwoo had eternity to figure out your body, yet you were an open book to him just like that. He knew you were close and by the way you grasped his wrist, the same wrist his fingers were attached to currently deep inside you, he could tell you were about to come.

“Come for me.”

“Fuck.”

You became rigid, legs shaking and convulsing by his knees with a held breath. Jinwoo waited for that breath to escape and continued to fuck you with his fingers, the only sound of the wet squelching from the gushing of your pussy all over him. And then you let that breath go, fuck he was so hard and he never waited for you to gather your thoughts before lining his cock up.

For all the time he touched himself and masturbated any chance he had after seeing you train or command a room with the likes of the other S-Ranks, he never thought he’d have you like this under him, at least not this soon.

He was never letting you go, not when your pulsing pussy sucked him in this good.

“Damn.” This next year, and all the others after this were truly going to be fantastic.

But at this rate, Jinwoo would come too quickly. Though in this state, would you really care? Probably not, but the man had a reputation to uphold. One that never involved premature ejaculation.

So he bit his lip and moved his hips, jerking closer than he realised when your legs wrapped around hip and yanked him towards you.

You absolutely filthy girl.

Maybe it wouldn’t matter if he came inside you right now, bucking his hips with no protection under the promise of knocking you up turned him on more than anything ever had. Then, he’d not only have your body, but that permanent ownership over you, a hidden agenda disguised as hard work for the association.

A baby. He’d fuck a baby into you and watch you become his for good.

His.

Jinwoo laid down as close as he could to you, nipping at your bottom lip and sucking it, masking his own groans under your helpless ones.

“J-Jinwoo- I’m close-”

“Me too-”

Just to give you something else on your plate to think about so that it didn’t add insult to injury of his quick and incoming orgasm, he held you again so that your back arched more than before, he ran his tongue up your neck and grazed his teeth over the skin. Jinwoo held onto the headboard and fucked you with everything he had.

Who cared if he came quickly, he was coming inside you.

And when you were most vocal, coming around his cock, he quite graciously emptied his cock inside you, shooting his come where it belonged. Deep inside your pussy. He rode that orgasm out with every cell in his body until he was certain that there was nothing left in his balls to give you.

Though he never pulled out. The first load of many.

Now you had to follow the association's tips and lay there for a moment so that none of it leaked out. Jinwoo’s cock being the most useful tool in securing two pink lines on that pregnancy test.

He doubted it would take long to get you pregnant, but maybe a few more times to be sure.

Having the weight of the association’s future on his shoulders, Jinwoo gladly accepted the stress relief.

Part 2 <- Part 3 -> Part 4

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️ Also sorry! I didn't realise I had to space the tagged blogs out 🫠 I'm sorting it now

Tag list - @bubera974,@snowy-violet,@sky2lar,@starrynights23x,@minh907

@yessirr7,@aussie-boys-wife,@yihona-san06,@mashiromochi,@daiyanomochi,

@justatimidcreator,@alia-17,@otomegamesforlife@m00n-estelle,@towomatos

@stormnightingale,

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

#solo leveling au #solo leveling #solo leveling jinwoo #jinwoo sung #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo x reader #jinwoo #sung jinwoo #sung jin woo x reader #jinwoo smut #jinwoo sung smut #solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader #x reader #fem reader #reader insert #minors dni #minors do not interact #yandere

755 notes · View notes

amortsukii · 18 days ago

Text

dumb & poetic | choso kamo

sum. who knew that your sexy emo bestfriend was a virgin? certainly not you! so when you find out, your first thought is to rectify that. your second thought, however, is holy shit he's so big... | wc. 3.2k | 18+

cw. dirty talk, pervy!cho, kissing/making out, male masturbation, breast play, tit sucking, handjobs, piv, unprotected sex, cowgirl, virginity loss, mommy kink, premature ejaculation, switch!choso, cunnilingus, cum eating, fingering, missionary, mating press, choso is so in love with you, breeding kink, creampie, lots of cum

a/n. im so sorry for the wait! i've pretty much just been exhausted the entire month cuz of the heatwave. hope this is worth the long wait though — i'm pretty proud of it and i absolutely love cho so i had to write something for him. maybe more in the future depending on how this does?

short n' sweet collection. | masterlist. | request info.

"you're a virgin!?"

choso hums and ducks his face, black strands of hair falling further in front of his eyes. you're both sitting cross-legged on his living room floor, some random movie playing in the background whilst you sip on beers and talk about anything. somehow, the topic of body counts came up, and choso admitted his large lack of sexual experiences.

it's surprising to you, of course, as you aren't blind to your best friend's attractiveness. the thought that he'd never had relations with someone before is honestly ridiculous.

"how!? you're so sexy—" you blurt, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, not noticing the blush quickly coating his pale face.

he splutters, coughing on the sip of beer he took previously, "s-sexy? you think i'm sexy?"

you scoff and reach over to pat his back in aid, though just before pulling back you lean into his ear and whisper seductively.

"i think a lot more than that."

"what do you mean..?" his voice is breathy, eyes wide and mouth parted in shock. a large hand subconsciously slides to your waist to steady you when he sees the slight wobble in your kneeled form and his fingers twitch on the oversized shirt of his you're wearing, chipped nail paint glinting in the lamp light.

your smirk, twirling some strands of his black hair around your fingers as you adjust your position— hiking a thigh over his lap and sliding your leg up against his, knees bracketing his hips. "i think about you like this," your mouth is still near his ear, and you feel his warm breath against your neck as he breathes shaky and unsteadily, "underneath me. completely at my will."

you're hovering just above his crotch, ass almost resting on his hips, and your other hand slides down his chest slowly. you feel the defined ridges of his abs even through the black shirt he wears, the thin piece of cloth restricting your touch. he shivers under you, hand tightening on your waist— fisting the fabric of your his shirt to ground him.

"what else do you think about?" choso hesitantly asks, already feeling himself grow harder in the baggy sweatpants he's wearing. the thought of you fantasizing about him is something he never would've guessed to be true. he always thought of himself as a pervert for dreaming about you— touching himself late at night, picturing you in every position he could think of, and even going so far as to steal your underwear when you leave it in his washing basket whilst sleeping over— but learning that you're likely doing the same has any ounce of guilt he may have had leaving his body.

"it'd be easier just to show you." you shift back to your previous position, kneeling next to him with a hand on his beefy shoulder to steady yourself. his hand never leaves your waist, rubbing small circles with his thumb into the fabric there. and when you lean close to his face his fingers halt their movement, squeezing slightly as your breath fans over his lips. your eyes flutter shut as you place a tender kiss there, letting him set the pace.

choso's lips press back after a few seconds, when his mind has finally caught up to the present that holy shit you're actually kissing him, and his dark brown eyes slowly close.

it's starting to get sloppy, your tongue slipping into his mouth, saliva dripping and teeth clashing. your free hand moves to palm the swell in his sweatpants and he whimpers at the feeling. that's when you pull back, desperate to see him in all his glory.

"touch yourself for me, cho. show me how you make yourself feel good." you lean away from him, fully sitting on the balls of your feet now, and tug down his grey sweatpants just enough to see the prominent bulge in his boxers. he whimpers, eyes fluttering open to watch as you slowly pull his dick out. its flushed red, already leaking from the tip, and practically throbbing with need. he's so thick (you briefly wonder if it'll even fit) and at least seven inches. you almost drool from the sight alone.

"you're so pretty, baby. such a beautiful cock."

he blushes as his hand slips down, gripping the base tightly. "can i.. can i see you?" he hesitantly asks and very slowly starts stroking his hand uppp and downnn his cock. you only smirk and pull the shirt over your head, chucking it behind you to pool on the floor, leaving you in only a lacey black bra. though that's discarded quickly as well, thrown mindlessly somewhere in his living room. your breasts spill out, bouncing in front of his face causing his dick to jolt. you then lean forward and spit directly onto the tip of his cock, sitting back up with a whispered command of "you can touch me however you want, pretty boy."

cho's eyes drink you in; the curves of your body and breasts, the softness of your skin, your nipples— hard in the chilled air. he's still for a couple minutes, just looking at you with fullfocused aw, before he hesitantly reaches out and skims a finger over your ribcage. you shiver at the feeling. his other hand starts up a steady pace on his cock, stroking up and down whilst tightening occasionally. you hear the wet slaps from spit and precum and smirk when his head leans close to your chest.

"can i..?" his voice is raspy when he asks, practically dripping with lust and anticipation, and hot breath hits the skin of your collarbone. you just wordlessly nod, slipping a hand onto the back of his head to tangle your fingers in his hair and lightly tug to encourage him to move forward.

finally, his lips enclose your bare breast, sucking slowly and tenderly as he learns how to please you. his tongue starts flicking against your nipple, matching the same rhthym of his hand that continues stroking his cock— getting faster and harder as seconds go by. his other hand still grabs and kneads at your opposite breast, thumb running over your hard nipple at a much slower pace. your quiet moans and subtle whimpers urge him on, feeling that coil in his abdomen tighten when you tug at his hair and cup your hand around his to help him jerk off.

you match his speed, learning how he likes it for the future, interlaced fingers working together to push him over the edge. you can feel yourself growing wetter and wetter as he's sucking on your tits and nipples, switching back and forth from each one when he's decided they've had enough attention, and you find yourself subtly grinding down on the carpet without even realising it. he notices though, and pulls his hand (and subsequently yours as well) off of his cock to instead grip your waist. his head pulls back off your nipple with a sharp pop! and a little bit of saliva is dribbling down his chin.

"why'd you stop?" you ask, voice breathy and low, as your thumb moves to grip his chine and wipe away the drool in one smooth motion.

"i- i want you to ride me."

your eyes widen at his forwardness but before you can even think of what to say he speaks again. "i'm really close— but... i want to come in you."

you nod wordlessly, unhanding his chin to instead reach down and slide your shorts and panties down together. it's a bit of a hassle in the position you're currently in but they're both chucked away as soon as they come off— leaving you completely bare.

choso has no time to comment on how wet you are because you throw your legs over his lap and straddle him. the soaking tip of his cock prods your ass cheek— while you try to adjust to the new position— until your hand goes to grip his base and align it just below your sopping hole.

he whimpers when he feels your wetness drip down onto him, coating the cum-covered thickness of his dick in your slick. his hands rest limply on the dip of your waist and his thumbs absentmindedly rub gentle circles into your skin. you wonder if it's to comfort you or ground himself.

"you ready, pretty boy?"

he's practically trying to pull you down by the time you ask. and he's so desperate that he begs. "yes, please! i need to f-feel you." he's whiny and pleading, with jet black strands stuck to his sweat-slicken forehead from when you unknowingly tugged out his pigtails.

"beg for it, cho."

you're really teasing him now. so desperate for his cock yourself but how can you help it if he sounds so pretty when he's begging? his head is tilted up, tearful lidded eyes boring into your soul, and his mind is already so gone from his previous orgasms that his words are slurred and barely registered by him.

"fuck— please. i wanna feel your pretty pretty pussy. i need it. please, fuck me, mommy!"

when the name accidently slips out your smirk widens, stashing away that little slip up for later as you slowly begin to sink down. his tip slips in first, and as soon as he finally feels your warmth he tries to thrust up. though, you catch him; hands flying to his hips to harshly push down and keep him steady. you almost lose balance but quickly right yourself.

"uh uh, naughty boy. let mommy do it."

cho moans loud, eyes rolling into the back of his head, at the sultry and commanding tone of your voice. it's then that you feel a familiar warmth spread inside you, coating your walls and filling your hole. choso's shaking underneath you— hips trying to thrust pathetically, head thrown back against the couch, cock jolting and balls squeezing as he comes for the first time. and it was just the tip.

he's whimpering from the aftershocks of his orgasm, legs shaking and chest fluctuating fast from his unsteady breaths. tears are gathered in the corners of his eyes now from overstimulation and you only pull off him when he starts to beg for you to "stop."

you place a kiss on his forehead as his cock flops onto his stomach, cum dripping steadily from your hole onto his thighs. one of your hands caresses his head, gently scratching through his hair to soothe him. your thighs are starting to ache from the position you're in and so you start to get up.

and you're just about to pull away— thinking about cleaning him up— when you suddenly get flipped onto your back on the carpeted floor. choso's hovering over you now, biceps flexing on either side of your head. he starts placing kisses all over your face, smooching a trail down your jaw and neck then across your collarbone and chest. he briefly sucks on your breasts again— tongue circling each nipple— but quickly moves on down past your stomach and settles his chin there, looking up at you.

"i wanna make you cum" choso whispers, "please, can i?"

"—you don't have to." you try to say but his head instantly shakes in disagreement. he says something along the lines of "i want to" but it's heavily muffled against your skin. you smile endearingly at him and slowly spread your legs. "okay then."

your pussy is revealed to him— cum still dripping out and slick coating so much of your flesh— and his head eagerly dips down to lick a stripe all the way through your slit. his own cum gathers on his tongue and you think it may be the hottest thing you've ever seen— only to be proven wrong as he swallows all that he gathered whilst maintaining eye contact with you.

"—holy shit," you choke out just before his head plunges back down and he greedily starts practically munching down on you.

his hands are on your hips, pinning them down when you start to wriggle in desperation. his tongue is so skilled, despite it being his first time eating someone out (though you're starting to question if that's really true), circling your clit like an expert before sliding down to prod as far into your hole as it will go. you're already feeling your orgasm approaching embarrassingly quickly when one of his hands releases your hip to glide down and meet his mouth at the crux of your pussy. so when two of his fingers slink their way past your walls to replace where his tongue previously was, your cunt clenches tightly.

his tongue is back to its work on your clit, teaming with his lips to switch between sucking and circling in a way that's driving you mad. his long, slender fingers are penetrating deep inside you and when he adds a third, you come.

it's an aggressive orgasm— slamming into you with such force that you sob out his name, a high pitch "cho!" that you're sure his neighbours will hear. your juices wash over his face, coating it in even more liquid, and he eagerly slurps it all up with such passion.

it gets overwhelming quickly though. euphoric pleasure turning into overstimulating pain that has you weakly tugging at his hair to try and pull his head away. your voice is broken and raspy when you whisper, "—stop. 's too much!"

that seems to have snapped him out of whatever pussy-induced haze he was in as his head quickly reels back. and when it does, you finally get a good look at the aftermath on his face. the entirety of his lower half is just soaked— a mix of slick, cum, and sweat— and his tongue flicks out to lick his smirking lips.

"god... you taste so good."

you barely have time to recover from your orgasm before you're being picked up. and in one smooth motion, cho is standing up with you plastered to his front— bare legs wrapped around his waist and still-dripping cunt soaking his stomach. you feel his cock just underneath your ass, hard and throbbing yet again. he pulls you in for a love-filled kiss whilst maneuvering you both around his house to, where you can only guess is, the bedroom.

your assumptions are quickly proven correct when he unceremoniously drops you onto his messy bed, black covers practically invisible in the unlit room. he climbs on top of you in no time— planting his biceps next to your face and sliding in between your spread legs. your hands slide around his neck and you play with the split ends of his hair as he aligns his cock with your hole once more.

your legs are already shaking by the time he slips it in, feeling that burning stretch from before even more intensely now due to your previous orgasm. his lips meet yours in a tender kiss to distract you from the pain as he bottoms out. he's whimpering, the foreign feeling so much for him already and he finally thrusts after a few seconds of letting you adjust to the feeling.

he pulls out until just the tip is in, before slamming into you with a loud cry. "fuck!" you can't tell if it's your or his voice. his hips are already speeding up their thrusts, desperate to keep feeling the wet warm heat of your pussy around him and before you know it, choso's desperately pushing your legs back until your knees hit your shoulders. he's fully bent you in half now, the new position making his cock hit spots so deep you didn't even know existed. it's all uncomfortable— the stretch in your cunt and legs, the aches— but the overwhelming euphoric pleasure you're feeling is enough to let you ignore that.

"fuuuck, i love this prrrreeeetty pussy. so so pretty. love you so much." cho's babbling mindlessly, hips sloppily thrusting and your back arches up into him. your legs are aching, calves thrown over his shoulders with heels clicking together occasionally and your knees are bumping into your upper arms. there's carpet burns all along your back, the skin rubbed red and raw, and bite marks on your front. long story short, you look wrecked.

but choso doesn't look any better; his hair has fully fallen from its updos, covering his eyes with the inky threads, and he's covered in a thick sheen of sweat. his cock is hitting the deepest depths inside of you, stretching and bullying your gummy walls, and it's all so sloppy that the most prevalent noises in the room are squelches as you continue to suck him in.

your breasts are pressed hard against his chest and jiggle with each thrust. you're both so so sweaty— the bed is drenched, sheets rumpled with blankets and pillows thrown all over the room, and the air stinks of dampness and sex. the very familiar feeling of an incoming orgasm is creeping up on you and cho seems to notice as well because his thrusts are speeding up and he's moaning praise at you.

"gonna come, pretty girl? go on, come for me. c'mon, you're— fuck— such a good girl."

tears are welling in your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. and you're right on the edge when choso leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss. saliva drips down your chin as your teeth clash against one another, lips sucking and tongues roaming. you whine pathetically when he pulls away, teeth unlatching your bottom lip. his eyes are practically closed from how lidded they look now but he somehow manages to rub the tip of his nose against your own in a comforting gesture when he thrusts even deeper in you.

"'m gonna— cum! fuuuuck, gonna let me fill you up, sweetheart? s-shit— want me to breed you?"

his voice is low and right in your ear as your foreheads brush, lidded eyes locked onto yours. you can't tell if he's begging or promising at this point as the previous dominating persona he had seems to have worn off. back again is the whiny cho from before who beseeched and called you mommy. though you're no better as the pleasure seems to have completely taken over your own brain.

"please do! please cum in me! please... please!" your pleas trail off as you come with a loud moan, raspy and broken. your cunt convulses around him, pulsing in time to your orgasm, and the foreign feeling pushes him over the edge as well.

his dick shoots out thick wads of cum deep deep inside you but it's only a few seconds before they're nothing but pathetic spurts. it's enough though, as you're already filled to the brim. and when cho pulls out— body half collapsed onto yours— and rolls over onto the floor next to you, you feel it all start to drip out of your hole.

he didn't even try and pull out! you're thinking it's a good job you're on contraception until he shoves his fingers into your wet hole to plug it all back up with a raspy whisper right into your ear.

"need to keep it in. gotta make sure it sticks."

taglist. @articel1967

#♡ amortsukii writes #♡ short n' sweet #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk fic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu choso #smut

446 notes · View notes

sluttyminghao · 17 days ago

Note

wonwoo + premature ejaculation 🤲 plssssss

i gotchu bae

You hadn’t even meant to take it that far, not yet anyway. It had all started with you simply teasing him in his lap, straddling him over the couch cushions, and your fingertips trailing along the line of his jaw, with your voice low against his ear.

“You always act so quiet and calm,” you whisper, your hips rolling once, deliberately and slowly. “I wonder what it takes to break you...just a little.”

Wonwoo groans, the sound low and sharp, with his hands digging into your hips. But you see it: the tension in his jaw, and the way his thigh muscles tighten beneath you.

He’s already close, too close, and he knows it.

“Don’t...” he huffs, his breath catching as you shift again, “...don’t move like that unless you mean it.” You grin, brushing your lips against his, featherlight. “Why not?”

He opens his mouth to warn you again, but as you rock your hips forward again and press down on him in just the right way, his head tips back with a choked gasp. Then… complete stillness.

There's a long second pause before anything happens. His hands are clutching onto you tightly, with his chest rising and falling too fast.

“…Wait.”

You blink. “Wait, did you?”

He doesn’t answer you at first, instead opting to hide his face against your collarbone, muscular arms tightening around you like he wants to disappear into the furniture.

You feel the heat spreading through him, the wetness seeping through layers of clothes, and the very real aftermath of your teasing. “Shit,” he mutters under his breath.

You can’t help it, you laugh, a breathless laugh that has tears pricking at your eyes. “Already?” He groans again, this time in pure shame. “You were doing that on purpose.”

“What, just a little grinding?” you murmur against his collarbone sweetly. “I thought you could handle me, Wonwoo.”

His grip tightens, but not in an angry way, instead turning needy and embarrassed. He's still throbbing beneath you. “You were talking in my ear,” he accuses, flustered and cheeks pink. “You...said I was quiet. You know what that does to me.”

You smile, fingers carding through his hair. “You came so fast, baby…”

“Shut up,” he grumbles, but he’s already kissing your neck, licking into your skin like he has something to prove. You hum. “You gonna make it up to me?”

His eyes flick up, dark and hungry as they meet yours. “Lie back,” he growls, pulling you down with him. “I’ll ruin your bedsheets."

#sm: masterlist 2025 #sluttyhao smut #wonwoo smut #wonwoo scenario #kpop smut #kpop scenario #seventeen smut #seventeen scenario #wonwoo x reader

422 notes · View notes

notjustjavierpena · 1 year ago

Text

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, “Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

#pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #my writing #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller the last of us

5K notes · View notes

sincerelyneo · 9 months ago

Text

igloo | h.rj

“i make him lose his cool, yeah i make him go…”

💿now playing: igloo by kiss of life

❯ summary: No Nut November is stupid—so why is your boyfriend making a bet with Hyuck that he can last the longest? Surely he doesn’t want to actually deprive himself from sex with you for a month? Surely he’s not serious…? Oh, he is. That won’t do.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut

❯ words: 4.1k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, swearing, petty stupid argument, slight angst, female masturbation, voyeurism, premature ejaculation, begging, slight sub!renjun, lots of teasing, reader uses she/her pronouns, basically just renjun agreeing to a stupid bet and y/n making him regret it

“Personally,” Hyuck says, throwing his hands up confidently, “I think I’d last the longest. Strong willpower and all that, you know?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, swatting him with a light smack on the back of the head. “No, you wouldn’t. You can’t go five minutes without emptying your balls, slut.”

Hyuck growls, winding up to smack him on the back, but he stops short as you stroll into the living room, a few cans of beer balanced in your hands. You drop them onto the coffee table with a loud thud, raising an eyebrow at the two of them.

“What are you idiots arguing about now?”

This was how every Friday night hangout went with your boyfriend and his friends. Laughter, drinks, and memories in the making—until Hyuck and Renjun would start bickering. Hyuck started it every time on purpose, and without fail, your boyfriend would take the bait, falling right into his trap.

And when you say fall right in, you mean it. They’re so wrapped up in each other’s throats that neither even acknowledge your question. You turn to Jisung, who shrugs and mutters something about No Nut November. Your mouth drops open in an “oh.”

“I’m just saying, I’d last the longest out of all you boys,” Hyuck insists, crossing his arms lazily.

“Bullshit!”

Hyuck’s brows knit together. “Oh, so you think you could last longer, Junnie?”

“Without question,” Renjun scoffs. “I’d last longer than you in every single way.”

Hyuck scowls. And perhaps it’s the double meaning in Renjun’s words that has him snapping, or just his overall general competitive streak, but all of a sudden he has no interest in dropping this argument or backing down.

“Are you challenging me, Huang Renjun?”

Renjun grins, leaning forward. “I mean, if you’re asking…”

You can’t believe Renjun is even entertaining the idea. No Nut November is stupid on a good day, let alone when someone has a girlfriend, you think. But it’s downright laughable when that someone happens to be your boyfriend—and the two of you go at it like rabbits.

Hyuck smirks, his gaze flickering from you to your boyfriend with a glint of mischief. “Oh, I’m definitely asking. Let’s see,” he drawls, leaning back with an exaggerated grin. “Which one of us can last the longest this month, loser owes the other $1000?”

“Done.”

You stare at Renjun, your mouth slightly ajar. “Done?” you echo, your tone fuming. He doesn’t even flinch, too busy locking eyes with Hyuck like it’s some weird standoff: men and their egos.

“Renjun,” you say, sharper now, catching his attention. His eyes flicker over to you, and for a split second, you think he might come to his senses. “You’re my boyfriend. My boyfriend,” you emphasise. “You just basically agreed to not have sex with me for an entire month.”

“Well technically, you can have sex but he just can’t cum—”

“Not now, Jisung!” You snap.

Hyuck bursts out laughing, clapping his hands like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all year. “Oh, I sooo have this in the bag,” he cackles. “And Renjun, you can’t take it back now. We shook on it—well, metaphorically. I have witnesses.”

Renjun pales slightly, glancing between you and Hyuck. “I—uh—” he stammers, but Hyuck cuts him off, wagging a finger mockingly.

“Nope! Rules are rules, Junnie. You’re in this now…unless you wanna forfeit—”

“No!”

You cross your arms, fixing Renjun with a glare. “So, let me get this straight. You’re really going to prioritise this over your girlfriend?”

“It’s not like that!” Renjun says quickly, looking genuinely panicked now. “It’s just—Hyuck started it!”

“Hyuck started it?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. “That’s your excuse? Are we in middle school?”

“No–baby–I–” Renjun stutters. “I just—You know what he’s like. He’d never let me hear the end of it if I said no.”

“Oh, I still won’t,” Hyuck chimes in, grinning ear to ear. “Because there’s no way you’re making it through this, Junnie. Not when your girl looks like that.” Hyuck gestures toward you with a smirk, clearly enjoying every second of this.

Renjun glares at him, a growl of anger leaving his lips, but you’re quick to interject. “So you’re risking $1,000 and pausing our entire sex life for a month—because you can’t handle Hyuck’s teasing?”

Renjun winces. “When you say it like that, it sounds bad.”

“That’s because it is bad,” you shoot back. “What are you even trying to prove? That you have more self-control than Hyuck? Congratulations, Renjun. Everyone already knows that.”

Hyuck gasps, feigning offence by clutching his fists to his chest. “Wow, Y/N. You wound me.”

“I’m sure you’ll live,” you retort dryly because he’s pissed you off just as much.

Renjun sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s just a month. It’s not a big deal—”

“Not a big deal?” you cut him off. “You do realise this affects me too, right?” You throw your hands up, standing to your feet. “Fine. You know what? Do whatever you want. But if you even think about caving, just remember—you’ll owe Hyuck $1,000 and me an apology.”

With that, you grab your beer and stomp out of the living room, leaving Renjun to stew. Hyuck leans back, grinning smugly before turning to Jisung. “I give him three days.”

Jisung nods thoughtfully. “I’m thinking two.”

Renjun manages to last two weeks without cumming—a new record since the two of you started dating, though it’s hardly an accomplishment. When your girlfriend is mad at you, it’s easy not to cum—mainly because you weren’t offering.

You weren’t outright ignoring him, but your usual affection had taken a sharp nosedive. No lingering kisses, no teasing touches, no late-night “accidental” brushes under the covers. It was like you’d put him on lockdown—and, annoyingly, he was thankful for it.

That pissed you off even more.

Here you were, trying to make a point, and Renjun was treating it like some kind of twisted blessing. He wasn’t sulking, wasn’t apologising profusely like he usually would. Instead, he seemed…relieved, like your passive-aggressive cold shoulder was doing him a favour.

It especially pissed you off one night when Renjun came back from dance practice, his shirt clinging to his torso, sweat beading on his forehead, and his eyes glazed over in exhaustion. Usually, when he came home like that—when it wasn’t No Nut November—you’d order takeout, settle on the sofa, and have lazy couch sex, no effort, no stress.

But not tonight.

No, because it is No Nut November and he agreed to it. So instead of collapsing into your arms, he takes himself upstairs, barely sparing you a glance, getting straight in the shower and tossing on a pair of grey sweatpants—torture, you think—and sits himself down in front of his PC, clicking at the keyboard as he logs online

He. Pisses. You. Off.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you snap, arms crossed, eyes fixed on him as he spins his chair around to face you on the bed.

He raises an eyebrow, pulling his headphones off and letting them hang loosely around his neck. “What are you talking about?”

“You don’t miss me touching you, do you?”

“Baby,” he starts, his voice low and soft, “That’s not true—”

“Really?” You tilt your head. “Because it sure feels true.”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair. “I do miss you. I miss you a lot, okay? But you’re mad at me, and I know I deserve it...so I wanted to give you space.”

You shake your head, “That feels oddly convenient.”

“I promise you it’s not,” he sighs, cautiously sliding closer. “How about this… is there anything I can do to at least try and make it up to you?”

You arched an eyebrow. “That depends. Are you planning on sticking to this ridiculous bet?”

He hesitates, and you can practically see the war waging in his head. “...Hyuck will never let me live it down if I back out,” he admits sheepishly.

You groan, sinking back against the headboard. “You’re actually unbelievable.”

Renjun doesn’t make a move to comfort you, doesn’t try to touch or reach for you. He knows you’re pissed, but for some reason, he can’t bring himself to drop this stupid fucking bet. His eyes flicker to you for a split second, and even though you're giving him nothing but cold, angry silence, he can’t help but think how fucking cute you look when you're this worked up.

You’re absolutely right to be mad. He’s an idiot. He misses you so much, misses your lips, your touch, your smile.

Fuck, he feels his resolve starting to crack, and so he spins around in his chair, putting all his attention back on his game and not on your pretty little pout. His fingers hit the keyboard aggressively. And although his eyes stay glued to the screen, he can feel the heat of your stare drilling into the back of his head.

Unbelievable, you think.

He’s really doing this. Pretending like he doesn’t care that you're right there, seething and beautiful and willing. You can see the tension in his shoulders, how his jaw tightens whenever he thinks you’re not looking. He needs this, needs you but he won’t let himself because he’s been in a dick swinging competition with Lee Donghyuck since he met him.

It pisses you off—at first. But then the anger twists into something darker, bolder. Maybe it’s the frustration of going a week without him, or maybe it’s just the pure, unfiltered horniness. Either way, your patience snaps.

You didn’t agree to this no-orgasms-for-a-month bullshit. You had nothing to lose. You didn’t need to punish yourself.

If Renjun won’t help you, fine. You’ll just have to take care of it yourself.

The thought is intoxicating, and once it’s in your head, there’s no shaking it. You shift against the headboard, eyes locked on his back. He’s been insufferable, sure, but the memory of him coming home sweaty and dishevelled—so fucking hot—has you pent up.

Your fingers brush your lips, and you can almost feel his again. Wet. Hungry. God, you’ve missed stumbling into bed together, tugging at his clothes and fighting for breath. You’ve missed the warmth of his body, and Renjun was always warm; the way he feels against you—scorching, consuming, addictive. He’s practically a fire hazard for your senses.

Your hand trails down, teasing over your chest, your fingers clutching at the fabric as you imagine it’s his touch. He could be doing this—should be doing this—but he won’t. Because you both know it wouldn’t stop there.

You let out a slow breath, the ache between your thighs growing more unbearable with every passing second. It’s the closest you’ve been to sex for the past two weeks and still, Renjun hasn’t looked at you once, his focus stubbornly locked on his stupid game.

The memory of him murmuring “Look, it’s just a month,” as he ran a hand through his hair flashes through your mind, and it makes you want to scream. He had no idea how badly you’d need him, how badly you’d miss him, and how much it would hurt when he started pulling away. Or maybe he did and perhaps he was being selfish.

But that’s okay, because you were about to do your own version of self-indulgence.

Your hands drift to your thighs, nails raking lightly against your skin as you glare at his back. He hasn’t even flinched, acting like he can’t feel the fire you’re staring into his hair.

You start slow—fingers brushing against the fabric of your panties, the warmth pooling low in your stomach making you shiver. You bite your lip as you press down harder, a sharp pang of pleasure hitting you as you add a small amount of pressure. The thought of him watching, of him finally snapping and turning around, sends a thrill straight through you. But he doesn’t move.

You want him to move.

You try parting your lips with a quiet sigh to get his attention—hands still teasing yourself, slipping under the waistband of your underwear. You know exactly how to touch yourself, how to work your body into a frenzy. But it’s not enough—it’s never enough—not when you know how much better it feels when it’s him.

When he still doesn’t look, your last ounce of patience snaps. Fine, if he wants to ignore you, you’ll make damn sure he can’t.

Your hand moves to the nightstand, yanking open the drawer with just enough force to make it rattle. You grab the vibrator—the vibrator, the one he’d bought you for your birthday with that smug little grin, saying he wanted to “make things interesting.” Well, you plan on making tonight very interesting.

This isn’t for fun. This is revenge, pure and simple.

You lean back against the headboard, spreading your legs just enough to get comfortable, the cool air hitting your heated skin. Your thumb presses the button, and the low buzz fills the room, cutting through the quiet. It’s barely louder than a whisper, but it’s enough to make Renjun’s fingers pause mid-keystroke, his entire body going still.

Good.

You don’t even look at him. Not yet. Instead, you drag the toy against your inner thigh, a soft moan slipping past your lips, breathy and deliberate, as you let your head fall back, eyes fluttering shut.

And then, just like you planned, he turns. And when he sees you—legs spread, vibrator in hand—his eyes go impossibly wide.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

You hum softly, dragging the toy up your thigh with evil slowness. Your lips part with a quiet gasp, and his breath hitches audibly. “I’m watering the plants. What does it look like I’m doing!?”

“Y/N,” he tries again, this time more forceful, his eyes shooting to the ceiling as he takes a long deep breath. His hand clenches the edge of the desk like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. “I’m serious. Turn that off.”

You finally meet his gaze, expression dripping with mock innocence as you scoff. “Why? I never agreed to No Nut November. I can entertain myself all I like.”

His mouth opens, but no words come out. You can see the panic flickering in his eyes, the video game in the background long abandoned flashing with the ‘respawn’ screen as a flush creeps up his neck. You can tell he is desperately trying to hold onto whatever self-control he has left. So far, No Nut November had been surprisingly easy for him—mostly because you’d been at each other’s throats all week. But now? With you looking like this? He’s fucked.

“Y/N, I mean it,” he warns, his voice shaky. His gaze darts to the vibrator in your hand, then to the way your legs are spread, and then back to your face. You can tell he’s trying not to look, but his resolve is cracking with every passing second.

You shake your head, biting your lip as you trace the toy over your clothed clit. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. You don’t miss the way his hand twitches like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you as you whimper.

“You know…you could always just look away,” you say with a shrug, your tone light, teasing. “Unless, of course, you like watching.”

His eyes snap to yours, panic flashing behind them, but there’s no hiding the way his chest is rising and falling faster now. The blush staining his cheeks deepens as he shifts again, and your eyes drop—just for a second—to the bulge straining against his pants.

Like you said, those grey sweatpants are torture and you can see everything. It only spurs you on to pull your panties to the side and run the buzzing toy between your slick wet folds. The first real contact has you gasping, your back arching slightly against the headboard, and Renjun visibly twitches in his chair.

“Y/N, I’m warning you,” he tries again, but his voice is shaky, almost pleading.

“Warning me?” You echo. “What are you gonna do, huh? It’s not like you can do anything. You’re just gonna sit there and play your game while I get myself off because of a stupid dumb bet.”

His hand flexes against the armrest, his breathing ragged now, and you know you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

“Go on,” you taunt, your voice dropping lower, dripping with mockery. “Prove how much self-control you have. Or…” You trail off, letting another soft moan spill from your lips, your eyes locked on his. “You can always give up that stupid bet and come help me.”

Renjun moves before he can stop himself, the chair scraping loudly against the floor as he stands. His body betrays his mind, the bulge in his sweats unmistakable as he strides toward you, breath shallow with desperation.

Fuck the bet. Fuck Hyuck. He just wants to fuck you.

“Alright, fine,” he growls, “You’ve made your point. Just—just stop, let me—”

But before he can close the distance, before he can even get a touch of what he’s been missing, you press your foot firmly against his chest, halting him mid-step. His eyes widen, lips parting as he gasps, completely caught off guard by the sudden force of it. For a long moment, he stands frozen, confused.

“Hmmm, I’ve changed my mind,” you say in a low voice. “You don’t get to make the rules and then break them the second you get hard. Sit. Back. Down.”

“Y/N,” he whines, the sound ragged and desperate. His hands hover around you like he doesn’t know whether to push forward or pull back. “I thought—”

You simply smirk, leaning back into the headboard with an air of defiance, your leg still pressed against his chest, keeping him in place and giving him a perfect view of your open-spread legs. The vibrator hums between your thighs, and you can feel his gaze searing into you, his eyes flicking down to where it rests beneath your wet soaked panties.

Fucking torture.

You drag the vibrator over yourself with steady, careful motions, breath hitching as you lean into the sensation (slightly making a show of it to tease him further). “You wanted to prove you could last, didn’t you? Prove it. Watch me.” You purr.

He groans, his head tilting back as his hands curl into tight fists, helpless and frustrated. “You’re fucking cruel,” he mutters, his voice strained, barely keeping it together.

“Am I?” you tease, your words laced with finger-licking venom. “You’ve been avoiding me for days, Renjun. Ignoring me, turning your back, all for a stupid bet with Hyuck? Now you get to feel exactly how I’ve felt.”

His jaw clenches as his hips shift, the fabric of his sweats doing nothing to hide his need. His eyes lock on yours, pleading, his chest rising and falling with erratic breaths. “Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” you taunt. “Please stop? Please let you touch me?” You press the vibrator harder against yourself, letting out a loud, shaky moan, and his knees nearly buckle as you continue, your smirk growing as you watch him unravel.

His body trembles, a curse escaping him as he sinks back into the chair, defeated and desperate, fighting the urge to touch you, to do something, anything. Renjun’s never felt a tightness in his body like this before. His muscles are tense, every inch of him on fire, but it’s not the good kind of heat—it’s raw and painful, like his body’s been caught in a vice that won’t let go. His breath comes in sharp, ragged gasps, every shift only intensifying the ache. The throb is relentless.

"Y/N, please," he whines desperately, the plea barely a whisper, but you hear it. He looks so broken, so beautiful, eyes fluttering closed as he tries to regain some shred of control.

You smirk at his desperate pleas, the sound making your heart race faster. You’ve never seen him this far gone for you, and knowing you've been the one to drive him to the edge like this—it’s a rush.

You spread your legs even wider, the cool air of the room hitting you and you moan as you pull your panties down and toss them aside. He stares at you—eyes wide, face flushed, lips parted—as you slide your fingers between your slick folds. You’re so wet already, so hot, and all it takes is the combination of cool air and the vibrator on your clit to have you soaring.

“Fuck,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as you arch against the toy in your hand. “God, I’m so close.”

He groans in response, hips shifting against the chair as he fights the urge to move, his body desperate for friction, for any kind of touch.

“Y/N, please,” he tries again, voice so thick with need. “Let me help. Please. Let me—”

You press harder, your entire body starting to tingle as you drive yourself closer to the edge. His own hips roll desperately, and you wonder how close he is too. He doesn’t even need a hand, it seems. His body’s already learning to react without stimulation—and it would be his own fault for blue balling himself for two weeks. The thought of it almost sends you over the edge, but you want to draw this out a bit longer.

“Nope,” you grunt, breathy moans escaping you as your hand speeds up. “No touching.”

His breath hitches. “Fuck, you’re so fucking cruel,” he pants, his body writhing in the chair. His face is flushed, eyes wild, and you can tell he's not far from losing it completely.

You smirk. “And you’re so fucking desperate,” you reply. “So close, aren’t you? And I haven’t even touched you.”

He nods, his hips rolling desperately as he clutches the edge of the chair, knuckles going white with tension. You can almost feel the ache in his body as he strains against himself, fighting against his own needs.

Your eyes flick to where his sweats are straining and you let out a small whimper at the sight. God, he’s so big, and you can practically imagine him thrusting against you, his cock sliding in deep with a rough, possessive motion. Fuck you’ve missed that. You gasp, your body clenching around nothing, and you swear you can feel his touch on you, all over, everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

“God,” you whisper, your hand moving the toy faster against your clit. “God, fuck—Renjun,” your voice breaks on his name, “Fuck, I’m close.”

His hips snap forward, his back bowing against the chair. “Oh fuck,” he moans, his eyes wide as they stare straight into yours. “Fuck, baby. So pretty—”

You cum with a sharp cry, your hand spasming against yourself as your body trembles through the orgasm. Renjun watches—desperate and hungry—for every second of it, just the sound of your orgasm sending his own body to the edge.

“God, yes,” he groans, eyes closing with a harsh curse. “Fuck, yes. Y/N, fuck, yes.”

You open your eyes to see him bucking in the chair, his body shaking as he stares at you—wide-eyed and panting. You watch his cum spill into his sweatpants, creating a dark, damp stain that makes your chest swell with satisfaction.

Your gaze stays locked on him—your body still twitching as your own orgasm fades—and a slow smile spreads across your face as you realise he came untouched, from just watching.

Your boyfriend sits frozen, completely caught off guard, his eyes staring blankly at his lap, cum stain splattered over his sweats. He blinks rapidly as he struggles to form coherent thoughts, his mind a mess. A long, long moment passes, and then he lets out an awkward cough, eyes darting around the room in search of an escape. There’s none. He’s just cum all over himself and can’t even blame it on someone else.

He looks mortified.

You bite your lip, a mischievous smile tugging on your face. “I’m sure Hyuck’s gonna love this.”

“Hyuck isn’t finding out,” he groans.

You raise an eyebrow, teasing. “Oh, he will. You made a bet about not cumming for a month, and well…”

Renjun growls low in his throat, rising up and crawling onto the bed. “Exactly. I made a bet with him, and if I’m gonna lose $1,000, I might as well fuck my girlfriend properly, and cum inside her, and tell him that’s how I lost, since you wanna be such a fucking tease.”

You smile as he hovers over you, a challenging gleam in your eyes. “Oh yeah? Is that a threat?”

“No,” he murmurs. “It’s a promise.”

#nct smut #renjun smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #renjun x reader #nct dream x reader #nct oneshot #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #no nut november is so stupid #kpop smut

1K notes · View notes

devotedlyandrogynousyouth · 3 months ago

Note

Can you write a slur of Dick Grayson, where he’s so desperate to make you come and that means he won’t come first, and when you ask him to go faster he struggles cause he doesn’t want to fail you. He knows if he goes faster he’d come, but he WANTS you to come first. 🦋

You got it!💙 also I guess this should be the time to say that i am a-okay with anons claiming an emoji!

First

Dick Grayson x Fem! Reader

Smut!! Premature ejaculation, pet names, cum eating, oral (f receiving), overstimulation

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” Dick’s voice is so whiney, so full of uncontained lust, that it nearly sounds childish. His face is flushed to the point of looking like a tomato, his kisses so warm along your neck that they feel borderline feverish. Along your body are his hands, brushing oh so gently across every inch of skin.

“Want it faster…” you cry softly, arms snaking around Dick’s neck to pull him just that little bit closer. The pair of you have been at this for a while with two sets of legs tangled in sheets that will need to be placed in the wash by the morning. He was already buried as deeply as possible into your cunt, the warm, red tip of his hardened cock leaking pre-cum constantly. And, as much as you loved the slow grind of his pubic bone and hair against your sensitive clit, you needed something more… active.

As you speak, though, Dick nearly feels himself stop breathing. His balls were already drawn up so close to his body, his orgasm practically within sight. Richard was never one to leave you wanting and needy during sex, but his entire body is just so tired. The mission he’d returned from merely an hour ago was brutal, leaving him with achy muscles and tender bruises. “You want it faster, beautiful?” he finds himself asking before he could even consider his own capeabilities at the moment.

When you nod, hair damp and sweat-slicked to your skin, he doesn’t hesitate.

Within moments, his hips are slotting perfectly into yours as fast as his body will allow without protesting. The slapping of skin on skin is erotic, especially when mixed with your breathy moans and Dick’s soft, tired whines. Every time your bodies meet, skin sticks together like glue from the sheer amount of sweat clinging to the pair of you.

The feeling of his thick and heavy cock dragging through your pulsing walls is intense, causing another wave of arousal to drip right down between your plump cheeks and onto the sheets. His balls are covered in it, too- slapping against your skin with every forward thrust.

Dick is panting now, his breath coming in hot gusts against your neck as he tries desperately to hold himself back from the edge. Each thrust becomes more erratic, more strained, as if he's physically fighting against his own body's urges. "F-fuck, baby, you feel s-so good..." he whines, voice cracking with desperation.

His grip on your hips tightens, fingers sinking into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks. He's not being gentle anymore, too lost in his own pursuit to chase his pleasure. Sweat drips down his temples and back, muscles trembling with exertion as he drives into you with abandon.

"I... I can't... can't hold it much longer, sugar," he gasps out, head dropping to your shoulder as he grinds his teeth. "Tell me... tell me what to do, beautiful. Help me... help me last..."

His movements are starting to slow, each thrust taking more effort than the last. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin is replaced by the wet squelch of your combined arousal and the harsh pants of his breathing. He's trying so hard to keep going, to satisfy you, but his body is betraying him.

"Please... please don't let me cum yet," he whimpers, clinging to you like a lifeline as he grinds his hips weakly against yours. "I need... I need to feel you cum first. I can't... can't be selfish..."

His eyes are clenched shut, jaw tight and muscles locked up as he battles his impending orgasm with every ounce of his willpower. You can see the strain in the way his face is flushed a deep, mottled red and his handsome features are twisted up in concentration. He's right on the knife's edge, teetering between the blissful oblivion of climax and the desperate need to please you.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay baby, you're doing so good," you coo softly, one hand coming up to cup Dick's cheek and turn his face towards yours. Your eyes are filled with tender concern and loving encouragement as you gaze at him with unveiled adoration. "You don't have to hold back, handsome. I want to feel you..."

Your other hand slides down to grasp the firm globes of his ass, fingers sinking into the taut muscle as you urge him on. "Keep going, Dick. Keep fucking me just like this," you breathe against his lips, your voice a husky purr of desire. "I want to feel your cum."

You rock your hips up to meet his slowing thrusts, your slick inner walls clenching greedily around his throbbing shaft. "It's okay to be selfish, baby. So very okay," you murmur, your breath hot against his ear. "I want you to cum... I need you to cum inside me. Right now. Please, Dick..."

Your words seem to snap something inside of him. With a guttural groan that borders on a sob, he surrenders to the inevitable. His hips jerk forward one last time, burying his cock to the hilt inside your spasming cunt as his orgasm crashes over him like a tidal wave.

"Fuck! Ahhh... Ahhh, pretty girl!" he cries out, voice breaking on a choked moan of ecstasy. His body goes rigid above you, muscles locking up as pleasure whites out his mind. You feel the first hot spurt of his cum flooding your insides, his cock pulsing and twitching wildly as it pumps you full of his thick, virile seed.

He continues to grind against you, working his hips in small, aborted circles as he rides out the intense waves of his climax. Each clench of your cunt around his spurting cock milks him for every last drop of his release. He's never felt anything so incredible, so absolutely perfect, in his entire life.

"Oh god... oh god, sweetheart," he pants harshly, collapsing heavily against your chest as the last tremors of his orgasm roll through him. He's trembling and gasping, his skin flushed and slick with sweat as it sticks to your own.

"Aww, shhh, there you go sweetheart. That's my good boy," you praise softly, wrapping your arms around his heaving shoulders and holding him close as he comes down from his intense high. You stroke his damp hair lovingly, your fingers combing through the sweat-dampened locks as you press tender kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, his lips.

"Shhh, it's okay. You did amazing, baby. I'm so proud of you," you murmur, rocking him gently in your embrace as he pants and shudders against your skin.

As Dick's breathing slowly returns to normal, you feel him begin to stir against you. His head lifts from your chest, blue eyes blinking up at you with a mixture of sated contentment and rekindling hunger. A slow, sensual smile curves his kiss-swollen lips as he takes in your own blissed-out expression.

"Mmm, you taste amazing, beautiful girl," he rumbles, voice still slightly rough from his recent cries of rapture. His hands begin to wander your curves once more, palming the rounded globes of your ass and the soft swells of your breasts with appreciative squeezes. "I could just eat you up..."

And with that, he starts to slide down your body with clear intent. His lips blaze a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, across the tops of your heaving breasts, over the quivering flesh of your stomach. He doesn't stop until he's nestled between your spread thighs, his heated breath fanning over your dripping vagina.

"Beautiful," he breathes, his voice a low, reverent rumble against your sensitive flesh. "You're absolutely drenched... and it's all because of me." His tongue darts out, lapping slowly through your folds and savoring your tangy essence with a deep, approving groan. "Fuck, you taste incredible. I could feast on this sweet little cunt for hours..."

And with that declaration, he dives in, sealing his lips around your clit and suckling the sensitive nub with relish as he sets about his mission to bring you to your own shattering peak. His fingers delve into your soaked entrance, pumping steadily in and causing his cum to spill out slightly.

Dick feels your walls starting to flutter and clench around his fingers, your body tensing as your climax rapidly approaches. He doubles his efforts, sucking your clit hard and fast as he pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt at a furious pace. The obscene sound of your arousal fills the room, your juices dripping down his wrist as he finger-fucks you with wild abandon.

"That's it, pretty baby. Cum for me," he growls against your flesh, his voice vibrating deliciously against your over-sensitized nerves. "I want to feel this pretty pussy gush all over my face as you scream my name."

With a keening cry, you shatter. Your body goes rigid, back arching off the bed as a gush of your release splashes over Dick's chin and cheeks. He moans in approval, lapping and slurping at the flood of your essence coating his face as he works you through your intense orgasm. Your pussy spasms and convulses around his plunging fingers, trying to suck them in deeper as you ride out the crest of your pleasure.

But Dick doesn't let up. Even as you start to come down from your high, he maintains his relentless pace, fingers pumping and tongue swirling as if trying to wring every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering body. It's almost too much, the overstimulation bordering on painful as your nerves scream for respite.

"A-Dick! Oh god, it's too- too much!" you whimper, trying to push his head away as your hips buck and twist beneath him. But he's unyielding, grip tightening on your thighs to hold you in place as he continues his sensual assault on your most intimate area.

"Shhh, I know baby. I know it's intense," he soothes, voice a low rasp against your sensitive flesh. "But you're going to give me one more. One more for me, sweet girl."

You ended up staying there until he passed out from exhaustion, still buried between your thighs.

Masterlist

#batfam #batfamily #batman #dc #dick grayson smut #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #dick grayson #richard grayson fluff #richard grayson x reader #richard grayson smut #richard grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing

702 notes · View notes

shycloudkitty · 4 months ago

Text

Time off

Summary: A rare time off with your boyfriend spent in creative ways ;)

Pairing: Re4r Leon × Fem! reader

Tags: NSFW 18+, MDNI!!! , Soft dom Leon, Oral (f! receiving), spanking, Swear words, Fluff, Light angst, Mostly fluff, premature ejaculation

A/N: Long time no see you guys!!! Okay so this is my second time writing smut, it's kind of clunky ig? But I feel like it has improved (I really hope it has). Shoutout to @writingwisterias and @fawnsflowerbed for giving me useful advice, the writing is not perfect but I feel like it has gotten better. Okay so, Things written in italics are a flashback scene, so be mindful of that.

WC: 4.1K

Credits to @/strangergraphics for dividers

Masterlist | Ao3 account

Finally, God, finally. A week free from work.

A week where you could happily enjoy the company of your boyfriend. Surprisingly, he happened to be free at the same time as you. Miracles do exist, it seems.

And now these past few days, you were in your boyfriend's arms sleeping late just because you can. Cuddling and laughing while he made another corny joke, he was charming enough to get away with it. Making out lazily and whispering sweet nothings to each other.

It was a miracle because whenever he was free, your hectic job used to pull in for a new project or a meeting. You couldn't help but dread and curse at your job for pulling you out of your boyfriend's arms while he was kissing your neck and caressing you all over like he could do it all day. And then, you have to leave.

“Leon, I'm sorry baby but I have to leave. It's important.”

As soon as those dreadful words leave your mouth he immediately holds onto you tightly, muscular arms wrapping around your waist as if caging you and huffs like a child who was about to throw a tantrum.

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘No’?”

“No.”

You tried to wriggle yourself out of his grip but it was useless. Trying to push his arms away that were wrapped around you but they only grew tighter like a venus flytrap capturing a fly.

You couldn't help but groan half heartedly at his attempts. “Oh come on, Leon. You know I will be back soon.”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Yeah… like an eternity later when I'm old and sad and…miserable thinking about where my one true love went…”

His hands slowly slipped inside your clothes as he caressed your skin there, you suppressed a shiver as his calloused hands roamed your soft skin.

He sighed dramatically. “You want me to die old thinking when that asshole of your boss would let you come home?”

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. He could be dramatic when he needed to be. “Y'know I will come home by 8 right?”

“Same thing.” Honestly, if it was upto him he would have marched up to your office and gave your boss a ‘talk’ about calling you whenever he wanted some help with work but he knew you would be upset so he didn't.

You were sure if you rolled your eyes any further they would fall out of your skull. When did he got so dramatic? “Leon, I will make it upto you I promise but for now I have to go really.”

He held you tightly for a few more minutes and saw you weren't budging, he couldn't help but sigh deeply and loosen up a bit. Giving you a chance to slip out.

You don't, it's not like you were happy to leave him here all by himself. You definitely wanted to keep cuddling with him, feel him wrap around you like a warm blanket on a cold night. Talking to him until one of you falls asleep or till your talks drift somewhere else… that somewhere being your face buried in a pillow while he arranged your insides from behind, him whispering all kinds of dirty things that made you come undone.

You looked back at him and cupping his face in your hands, his eyes looked into yours giving you puppy eyes which could melt anyone's heart but reserved only for you. You kiss his cheek, softly whispering. “Leon, I'm sorry but it's important. I don't wanna leave you either.”

“Then don't.” His answer came immediately. He leaned into your touch pressing a soft kiss in your palm, making your heart melt once more.

You sigh and kiss his forehead softly. Your thumb caressed his cheek gently as you continued to console him with love. “Babe don't make it any more difficult than it has to be. I promise I will make it upto you tonight.”

He slowly nods and immediately hugs you tightly in his arms and grumbles. “Fine, but if works calls in once more, I'm going there myself to talk to your boss.”

You chuckled and kissed him. “Deal.” He kisses you back, a small smile appearing on his face.

You pulled away and started make your way out of bed when he immediately yanked you back and held you tightly, making you yelp in surprise.

“Leon!”

“Just pretty please. 30 more minutes.”

“30?!”

“Ugh. Fine. 20 minutes. God it's like you love your job more than me.”

“It kind of pays my bills y'know.”

“I can too. Stay. 20 minutes. Final offer.”

You knew it was useless to fight against this, might as well rest up while you can. You can tell your boss you got held up in traffic or something.

And whenever you were free, it was him getting yanked into his government missions to save the world, literally. Not that you weren't grateful. But him leaving always felt like a piece of your heart breaking. The type of work he was in… there was no telling when he would come back or if he would even come back.

What words might be his last to hear, which emotions would be his last to be feel, will it be fear or will it be anger?

It was kind of funny, in a dark way. When you left home, all he was complaining about was not getting enough cuddles.

But when he leaves home, you don't even know if he will be back. And neither did he, although he tried his best to make you think otherwise.

It was still early in the morning when some rustling sounds around the room, woke you up from your peaceful sleep.

Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the dark room barely lit up from the sunlight. You could make out the silhouette of your boyfriend preparing his duffel bag for his mission. He was trying his best to be quiet, tiptoeing across the room to collect his things.

You watched him quietly, not wanting to interrupt what he was doing and also avoiding a goodbye.

Opening his closet to take some warm clothes, going to the bathroom to pack some essentials. Taking out his gun from his closet which was usually hidden well, although you never tried to search for his gun when he was home. Things were difficult as it is & to digest the fact that there was an actual gun in your home was a whole different tale.

You watched him wear his mission clothes, gearing up with his knives and keeping his gun to one of his pockets, fixing his tactical gloves.

He sighs to himself looking around if he was missing anything then he looked towards your sleeping form in the dark room, the only thing he had left was to say goodbye to you.

He walks towards you, his boots creaking against the floor, you closed your eyes immediately trying to look like you were sleeping. You felt your side of the bed dip slightly and a hand gently caressing your hair, his warm breath fanning your neck.

A soft whisper fill your ears. “It's time for me to go now, I know you will be pissed but I have to do this.”

He takes a deep breath and continues. “It's always dangerous but knowing you're here waiting for me, helps me through it all.”

His fingers towards your cheek and gently caresses it with his knuckles. “You put up with so much shit, I don't know how… you're still here with me. You're the most important person to me. I love you so much.”

He presses a soft kiss on your forehead and holds one of your hands tightly. He sighs and buries his face in your hair, closing his eyes.

You feel a lump rise in your throat as you just stay there with your eyes closed not wanting to say goodbye, it broke your heart every time as he left but you also had to be brave, the last thing you wanted is him worrying about you.

You let out a shaky breath and whispered. “I love you too…”

He simply wraps an arm around your waist and kisses your neck. “I will be back soon.”

“Okay… just be safe.” Leon nods at your words and then gently tilts your head to face him, pressing a soft slow kiss on your lips. He always said his goodbyes like this. He could never say it out loud, it was better to show you how much he would miss you.

You both slowly part from your kisses and look at each other like it was your last. You softly ask. “30 more minutes?”

A soft chuckle leaves his lips, his knuckles gently tracing your cheek and replies. “Not 20?”

You shake your head “No.”

“What if I have to leave in 20 minutes?”

“I don't care. I want you for 30.”

You see his familiar smirk blooming on his face whenever he is amused by you. “Bossy & demanding.”

You shrug and feel your smile widening. “Well, someone has to be The Woman in this relationship.”

His soft chuckle turns into a full laugh, the warm sound filling your shared bedroom, making this goodbye into something much warmer. His eyes crinkle around the corners and smile at you. “You're right, someone has to.”

He adds in with a shrug “I can do 30 minutes, if you add in the kisses.”

Your smile widens and nod. “Deal."

He lays down on your side, getting under the sheets once more but this time with full gear. “Scoot over.” He mumbles.

You scoff. “No way, I'm on my side, I'm too comfy to move.”

He rolls his eyes and says. “You want cuddles or not.”

You grumble under your breath but comply by shifting in bed, giving him plenty of space. After getting comfortable he pulls you in and wraps his arms around you, his chin resting on top of your head and your warm breath hitting the nape of his neck.

Your grip tightens around him, soaking it all in once more before he goes…

That's how usually things went for you both, just trying your best to be by each other's side. Testing fate whenever you both can.

But this week, finally, you are both home. Safe and sound. In each other's arms & watching a movie, what better way to spend time together as a couple… Or that was the plan at first.

Now, you are sitting on the couch with your legs spread, panting heavily and moaning his name endlessly, both hands gripping your thighs, so you can't squirm away from him while his face is buried in your warm cunt.

Movie plans being far forgotten now along with your clothes and the sly bastard was still in his clothes.

He was on his knees, tongue swirling around your puffy clit, sucking on it happily while you whined that it was getting too much for you and him getting hard as a rock in his sweatpants. Grinding his hips against the edge of the couch, letting out occasional grunts and low moans as he wats you out.

One of his hands leaves your thighs to dip his fingers into your entrance to collect the juices flowing out of you, using it to lubricate his fingers as he gently pushes them inside. A soft moan slipping your lips at the feeling. “Lee…”

He kisses your inner thigh in response and mumbles. “You're doing wonderful, sweetheart… such a good girl for me.”

He starts to move his fingers at a steady pace while his tongue plays with your clit. Coaxing soft whines with his pace but then he curls against that spongy spot that always makes you sing louder for him. He gets his answer pretty quickly when you eagerly grind against his mouth and fingers for more.

He couldn't help but smirk at how easy it is to get you riled up. A few kisses here and there, some filthy words spoken, careful measured touches…and soon you were a beautiful mess for him.

Huge ego boost too since only he could unravel you like this. And he loved you for it. The moans, the tiny whimpers and gasps you make when he touches or tastes you, never fails to send a shiver down his spine.

It turned him on just by looking at you, seeing the way you surrender yourself for him, let him do whatever he wants. To know you trust him so much that you'd surrender yourself to him so easily.

Panting for breaths, your legs weakly settle on his broad shoulders immediately wrapping around his head as he keeps going.

He removes his fingers briefly only to delve his tongue deep in your warm pussy, nose bumping your sensitive nub, hearing those pathetic moans of yours that were driving him insane.

He tips his head up a bit to see your expression and he couldn't help the growl that leaves his lips. Your pretty face flushed red, sweat forming on your forehead, your hair being a beautiful mess, framing you into a perfect image of sin.

And the combination is just enough for him to immediately cums, humping the couch chasing his relief. A guttural moan leaves his lips against your folds as he rides his high, his tongue eventually slowing down and closes his eyes because his head feels lighter and dizzy. He adjusts himself and grunts at the feeling, his cock twitching lightly in his sweatpants.

He pulls back briefly to rest his head on your cushiony thighs. His words are breathy, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Sorry, princess… didn't mean to do that so early…Give me one minute…”

Your breath hitches at the sight, him losing control of himself like this was rare but a welcome sight. His usual perfect blonde hair now sticking to his forehead, pupils blown wide and lust written all over his face. It didn't bother you that he came earlier than you, if anything it made you proud of yourself that you can make him lose his mind like this.

He mentally curses himself for losing control of himself so early when you didn't even reach the peak yourself. But he couldn't help it, the taste of your juices along with the sight of you surrendered to him…it would take a miracle for any man to not lose control like he did. A part of him still felt wrong for cumming before you did and he tries not to focus on it too much.

He felt your hands gently tugging his hair upwards, he looks up to see you, panting heavily and mumbling softly. “Yeah?”

Your heart melts at the sight and smile at him. “You good?”

He closes his eyes once more and mumbles dryly. “Yeah… yeah, M’ good. Just catching my breath.”

Your fingers gently massage his scalp as his head rests on your thigh. Your tone turning more soft as you talk to him. “It's fine, take your time.”

He nods and slowly says. “Sorry, really…didn't mean to-”

You interrupt him with a soft shush and keep caressing his hair gently. “It's fine, baby, nothing’s wrong… We can stop, if you want. No shame in it.”

He shakes his head and peppers kisses across your inner thighs. “Mmm, no way, I ain't leaving you high and dry like that.”

After a few moments, when he feels much normal, he starts again, slow and steady. His hands gently grip your hips, gently biting the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, sending a jolt through your spine as you start to feel worked up once more.

His mouth dives back into your pussy, he lays his tongue flat as he slowly moves it up and down your folds. His tongue lazily circling around your clit, smirking to himself when he starts to feel your hips twitch in his grip, his grip tightens to prevent you from squirming too much and continues his work.

He closes his eyes once more and simply focuses on you. Your soft moans, the way you tug his hair helplessly, motivating him to go further. He slowly inserts one of his finger, moving it inside you, feeling your walls contract around it. He inserts another and hears you yelp, trying to pull away from his grip. He grumbles disapprovingly against your clit and pushes his fingers deeper inside you, occasionally curling them.

Your skin grows hotter like before, breathing coming in short pants, thighs clenching around his head from the pleasure coursing through your veins but he makes no motions to stop you.

His hand that was on your hips moves to caress your waist gently, rubbing your back, helping you relax. He flicks his tongue against your sensitive nub of nerves, sucking on it, anything to get you closer to the edge.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even close to your core. A plethora of names and broken whines leaving your sweet lips, indicating to him that you were close.

He suddenly pulls back, breaking his pace to look at you. “Look at you, dollface…So fucking pretty just for me.” His hands travel up towards your chest, roaming towards your smooth curves, feeling your skin under his own. He teasingly ran his hands over your plump breasts, cupping them and pinching your nipples playfully, slowly rolling those soft peaks between his index and middle finger.

You whine and huff at him, glaring at him to stop toying you like this. This was probably the second time he brought you this close. It did feel good but right now all you wanted was to just fall apart by his tongue and fingers.

He has a big smirk on his face when he sees you glaring daggers at him. “Use your words hon'.” Pinching your nipples once more for emphasis.

Words? You didn't even had a chance to breathe when he started all this. And now he was teasing you instead of finishing what he started.

You groan from frustration and try to speak but the words come out in a half broken moan. “Just make me cum, Leon… I was already so close.”

Leon smirk doesn't wavers if anything it only gets bigger when he hears you beg. “I was just admiring the view, baby” He raises himself up and starts to kiss the nape of your neck, kissing away the beads of sweat, tasting the salt on your hot skin.

Both of his hands drift back down to your hips, giving you few gentle spanks but also gently rubbing the spot to soothe the skin, the roughness of his hands raising goosebumps on the bare expanse of your skin. His touch slowly travels back to your inner thighs, pulling your hips near the couch’s edge so he could settle between them. He hears you whine near his ear, your desire and impatience apparent. “Leon…-”

He immediately captures your lips in a deep kiss and mumbles against them. “I know baby… I know…” He deepens the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance, demanding your focus into the demanding kiss instead of your delayed orgasm. One of his hands grabbed the back of your neck so you couldn't pull away from it either.

Your body shudders from the intensity of the kiss as he swallows every sound as it left your lips, eyes fluttering close, you allow yourself just enough to get lost in the kiss. And he feels your legs relax just enough. He suddenly pushes two fingers back inside your pussy, smirking when he sees your eyes opening wide and a yelp leaving your throat. “Fuckkk! Fuck! Leon-” You feel the familiar stretch of his fingers and try to push him away, mewling as your walls soon accommodate the feeling of his fingers.

Whines turn into desperate low moans as he starts to move his thick digits, once again curling them against your spongy spot. Your eyes roll in the back of your skull as he pulls you in a kiss once again. His voice turning into a mocking one. “You wanted to cum, yeah? Well, go on. Nothing's stopping you, not whining now are ya?”

You try to kiss him back but instead it's just more messier than before, string of saliva connecting your mouth to his as you pull back. Your vision blurs as you feel your orgasm starting to close on you with each thrust of his fingers. You choke up on your moan. “M’ gonna cum!”

Leon's smirk only widens as he hears it and leans in to gently tug at your earlobe and huskily whispers. “Ride those fingers for me, paint ‘em with your cum.”

Your body feels hotter at his words, hips starting to move at their own accord now, just need that sweet release that was nearing the edge.

He kisses your collarbone and keeps mumbling. “Yes, sweetheart, you're doing so well, look at you…” His sweet praises were what you needed as you suddenly felt your orgasm crashing over you, a scream of his name ripping through your chest, legs giving out as your juices gushed around his fingers.

He helps you ride out your high and slowly pulls out of your aching hole, immediately putting his digits in his mouth, softly groaning at the taste of your cum. “Mmhmm, Jesus…” He licks them clean and looks down at your spent body and grins to himself. “Would you look at that…So pretty.”

He gently caresses your body as it shakes from pleasure. Leaning down to pepper soft kisses from your waist to the swell of your chest, slowly making his way up your body. He finally reaches your lips as he drops a soft kiss. He leans back and grins at you. “I was good, wasn't I?”

You chuckle breathlessly as you stare at him, feeling like you probably have melted in goo on the couch. Replying to him in a breathy tone. “Good doesn't…even begin…to cover it.”

Leon chuckles along with you, gently brushing some of the hair away which was sticking on your skin cause of sweat. He drops a soft kiss on your forehead. “I aim to please, sweetheart…Now come ‘ere.”

He groans softly as he stands up front sitting on his knees for so long. He sits down on the couch, leaning back & spreads his legs, stretching them a bit. He gently pulls you in his lap, allowing you to just simply curl up as you sit there, his chin resting on the top of your head. His fingers thread through your hair, gently untangling any knots that came across his way while you came down your high.

You sigh, feeling your shudders subside in his arms and reply. “God, I don't think I can walk even now.”

His lips turn into a mischievous smile, his chest puffing up at your words. “I know & you're welcome.” And drops a kiss on your head.

You roll your eyes at his self-satisfied tone. “So Humble.”

You feel his chest rumble up from soft laugh as he replies smugly. “I know right, considering how much noise you were making I should brag more.”

You hit his chest lightly and feign annoyance at him. “Shut up.”

A stupid wide grin spreads across his face as you hit him, his arms squeeze around your body, pulling you closer and says. “What? It's not a bad thing to accept the fact that I'm just that good.”

“I didn't say that.”

“It felt like you did.”

“I was hoping for more quiet cuddling and less bragging.” Playful exasperation apparent in your words.

He rolls his eyes and dramatically sighs but his voice is full of teasing. “Jesus, fine, a guy can't even brag about making his girl satisfied. But okay, whatever the princess demands.”

He hears laughter spilling from your lips and feels his heart melt from the sound, his hands gently rub your back. And he buries his face in your neck, kissing you there softly. “Wanna get cleaned up in the shower or too tired?”

You nod and reply. “No… I wanna shower but only if you carry me.” Playfully batting your eyelashes at him.

He chuckles and stands up with you in his arms, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck. He passed the same playful smile back at you. “Was gonna do that anyway, Princess.”

Your giggles fill the air as he carries you quite happily to the bathroom. You rest your head on his chest and briefly close your eyes praying, that you'd both get more time like this more often.

Hello, everyone!!! So happy to be back. Good news- I have already started working on some requests from last time, I wasn't writing anything for these few months cause of exams, I'm still not exactly free but I think I can manage.

Other than that, I hope the smut is good enough to enjoy, I know it's not perfect😅 but I'm working on that, this is the only area where I get stuck Lol. Do let me know if you guys want me to improve in some areas or anything else you'd like to see.

Hope you all have a good day!

-Bella

575 notes · View notes

fairyofshampgyu · 2 years ago

Text

Super shy !

genre: smut, baker au, college au, crack

Pairing: shy loser virgin bakery worker ! soobin x college customer ! reader

Warnings: sub soobin, dom reader, clubbing, alcohol, loss of virginity, riding, hand job, titty groping (can’t be a Soobin smut without him being obsessed with boobies be fr), premature ejaculation,

word count: 2.9k

As soon as you stepped into the newly established campus bakery, walking up to the counter and observing all the pastries, contemplating for a rather long time before you end up deciding on what you’d usually order anyway, Soobin couldn’t help feeling like his world got totally turned upside down. The sight of you rendering him completely speechless and unable to even think.

Time seemingly going by so slow like in the kdramas as your shiny hair majestically blows in the non existent wind inside, smile brightening up the entire bakery. He could practically see the roses blooming around your face like in the mangas. Was this love at first sight?!

Realistically, no.

But were you incredibly attractive to him and a breath of fresh air to the moody, stressed out college students that purchase a single coffee and stay for hours completing assignments with their backs concerningly hunched over? Hell yes.

And unfortunately for Soobin, he does not do well with pretty people. At all. Not realising you had even ordered, too in awe and preoccupied with taking in all your features until he’s snapped back to reality with the clearing of your throat and he can already feel his cheeks burning up horribly fast. Oh god. He really, really hopes it’s not evident right now.

“S-sorry…What did you say?” He begins apologising profusely to you, too embarrassed to even look you in the eyes, staring off more to the side. This was definitely not his best customer service.

With a chuckle, you brush it off and state your order again, “I said could I have the strawberry swirl cheesecake please?” If Soobin could look at himself in third person, he would so be face palming right now. Or better yet, maybe he could just go up and like, punch himself straight up or something for acting like such a loser.

“Ah right... That’s ₩7500. Cash or card?”

You pay with cash and Soobin, very nervously, fumbles around to garner the right amount of change to hand you, though doing it in the most awkward way possible and his palm makes direct contact with yours as he hands the money, making him blush even more and let out a small obvious gasp at the feeling of your soft hand. Oh my god. Why did he do that?! He really hopes you didn’t find that weird.

You only let out another chuckle, thanking him before you’re leaving the bakery in an elegant manner and Soobin is left to sigh and watch your back disappear. Damn it. He’ll probably never see you again. You were so pretty and so cute, too cute even-

“You’re such a virgin.”

His thoughts about you are abruptly dissipated by his coworker and unfortunately best friend, Choi Beomgyu who gives him the stupidest, most annoying grin he would definitely like to slap off his face right now.

“Just shut up.” Soobin grimaces and rolls his eyes at beomgyu, bringing a batch of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind him and placing them into the display glass one by one.

"You’re pinker than the strawberry macarons we sell. That's saying something." Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at him with sass.

So does that mean you could see how flustered he was getting then? Oh no! Soobin clears his throat and narrows his eyes at beomgyu anyway. “Am not.”

“Are too! Anyway, all I’m saying is that interaction was painful to watch. You’re really giving pathetic, loser, virgin right now. I cant lie.” Beomgyu attempts to stifle in one of his obnoxious laughs.

Soobin is quick to snap back, "You've only ever slept with one person!"

"S-so!! At least im not a virgin!" Beomgyu’s cheeks also become the equivalent to the strawberry macarons as he scrambles to try and defend himself, brows furrowed and cheeks puffed.

“Well, the concept of a virgin is purely societal anyway. It doesn’t actually matter. It doesn’t mean anything really.” Soobin bitterly replies, continuing to work whilst his counterpart does completely nothing like most of the time. It's usually soobin that does work, remind him not to agree to beomyu's silly ideas of getting a job together ever again.

Beomgyu scoffs and snickers at this, "Whatever. You’re just saying all that to make yourself feel better because you’re a loser. LMAO"

"I’ll punch you right now."

"Then we'll both be fired~”

A poor customer still awaits at the counter to be served, standing in bewilderment and tiredness. Waiting for the two bakers to finish bickering and sighing as they don’t seem like they’re going to stop anytime soon.

Soobin doesn’t expect to see you again, in complete honesty, he’s almost forgotten you even exist after you never come again. But he’s in luck and more than pleasantly surprised when he hears the bell to the door go ding!, indicating a customer had walked in. He looks up from the cake he was decorating and in comes you looking cuter than the first time he saw you. He tries not to mess up the cake and he stands up straight almost instantly when he sees you, waiting for you to order and trying to remain calm.

You laugh and point at his cute nose when you come up to the counter. “You have like, icing all on your nose.”

“O-oh. I do?” He points at himself and you nod in reply. He feels himself going redder by the minute. He must look so stupid right now! And he urgently brings his sleeve up and tries to wipe the icing off his nose to not make himself look an even more of a complete fool in front of you .

“Ah wait no. Let me do it!” You lean over the counter as you see him struggling and wipe it off the top of his cute bunny like nose instead for him.

And that was the end of soobin. The end.

You become a regular at the bakery and soobin becomes a regular of embarrassing the absolute shit out of himself each time he sees you. He really doesn’t think he can top the previous comedic disaster that occurs when you enter, yet he always proves himself wrong, the awkwardness reaching new heights each time. From dropping trays of pastries, spilling drinks, nearly slipping in front of you, giving you a ₩50000 note when it was only ₩5000 change, the list goes on and on. He’s actually surprised he hasn’t lost his job yet.

And there’s also always a disappointed beomgyu shaking his head afterwards ready to make fun of him when Soobin promises to make a move but freezes every time you’re in sight, too much of a pussy.

“I’m calling an intervention.” Beomgyu declares and sighs after the nth time of soobin making absolutely no moves on you whatsoever, “Soobin, my man, my bro, you desperately need to get banged. It’s painful seeing the way you act. Your little crush is not gonna like you with the way you act. That’s it. We’re going clubbing tonight after this shift. No buts.”

“But-”

“I said no buts!”

“You know I hate clubbing.”

“You’ve never even been with me despite my constant pleads.” Beomgyu shakes his head and makes a dramatic pained face at his way.

“So? I know I’ll hate it.”

“You’re such a hater bro.”

“Yes I am. And I take pride in it. I’m a hater of everything.”

Beomgyu just sighs. He was utterly hopeless.

Unfortunately, there was no way Soobin could get out of this because beomgyu was having absolutely none of his protests and excuses and that’s how he ends up finding himself at the club anyway after his shift, sitting off to the side as he watches beomgyu disappear somewhere into the crowd. Soobin sighs as he downs his jack and coke. This was going to be a long fucking night.

In the dimly lit club, soobin’s discomfort was palpable, like a fish out of water and you noticed instantly upon arrival. It’s that cute tall baker boy who always serves you! You excitedly make your way and sit next to him, he looked a little lonely. “Hey! You work at that bakery on campus. I go there!”

Soobin’s eyes nearly fall out of his sockets at the sight of you sitting next to him and he nearly chokes on his drink as he splutters on his straw and nods. Act calm, act calm, act calm, act calm. Act cool and mysterious.

It’s you! You’re speaking to him?!

“So…these things not really your scene, huh?”

“Gee. How did you ever notice?” Soobin attempts to smile and joke with dry humour but it executes a little more awkward and nervous than how he would have liked.

You also try to carry on the conversation since this is the first time you’ve got to ever actually talk to the cute boy before. “I’m very intuitive. I can just sense things like that.”

He laughs at that too, feeling a bit more comfortable around you now. “No but yeah, I’d much rather be at home right now sleeping. Can’t say I’m much of an advocate for getting stupidly drunk with sweaty people you don’t even know with terrible rave music and flashing lights that should have an epilepsy warning”

“I get it.” You chuckle at how passionate he gets talking about how much he hates clubbing, frown on his cute face. “So why are you here then?”

“Friend wanted me to. Said I needed to finally get laid or whatever.” Soobin rolls his eyes and sips on his drink again, motioning his head to the direction of beomgyu on the dance floor, clearly drunk off his ass now.

“Oh, you’re a Virgin?”

Soobin’s ears go red when he realises what he said to you. “O-oh um y-yeah I guess…”

“Are you waiting for like marriage or the right person or something?” You question, genuinely surprised. He was tall and very attractive and it was rare for college boys to not hook up every single night these days.

“God no. Just never happened. I don’t really care for things like that. It’s probably overhyped anyway and doesn’t even feel that good. Like porn is highly unrealistic anyway.”

“You think so?” You chuckle at him and he nods, continuing to cutely sip on his drink with his straw. “Well maybe you should to try it out first and see for yourself.” Your words start to become a little flirty as you grow more confident talking with him and also because of the alcohol making you slightly tipsy now. “Sorry, but do you want to get out of here?”

“Yes please.” Soobin’s eyes widen even more at your suggestion and he’s more than happy to get out of here with you especially.

“Umm your friend is a bit….out of it right now.” You watch beomgyu drunk from afar, whipping his long hair back and forth claiming to everyone around he’ll be able to do it fast enough to lift off his feet and fly like a helicopter.

“He’ll be…he’ll be fine I’m sure”

Soobin has no idea what good stuff he must have done in his past life to get to this moment right now, in your room, making out with you, in your bed. Did he mention making out? With you?! The customer he’s been crushing on for months?! Holy, he might hyperventilate right now. It all feels like a dream. Is this real right now?

You cup his cheek and move into his lap, continuing to move your lips against his and soobin’s ears and face are all flushed, breathing loud of enough for you to hear and he looks all nervous and a little shaky.

You stop kissing him but he chases after your lips still and you stroke his cheek, “Are you okay Soobin?”

He’s only able to nod, lips parted and eyes all glazed over. He’s so out of it just from making out with you it’s crazy. But so cute too.

“C-can you…can we…just want…”

“What do you want, baby?” You chuckle and stroke his cheek as he manages to utter some words. The petname only makes his head go even more haywire.

“W-want you…”

“What do you want me to do?” You giggle and coo at him.

He shyly shows you the boner he’s had this entire time. You can’t believe he got a boner just from some kissing. “Can you-will you touch me…please? Need it…” He pleads at you nervously, so red in the face.

“Are you sure?”

He nods his head exceptionally fast and you begin to unbuckle his jeans as he watches you take his flushed and hard dick out, breathing only becoming heavier. Damn, you didn’t think he’d be that big.

You take him into your hands and his mouth his already agape, gasping when you slowly start to stroke him.

You pump his big cock at a steady pace so as not to overwhelm him too much, though twisting and thumbing at the tip occasionally that has him drooling at the corner of his mouth and beads of precum dribbling out heavily from his cock. It’s endearing how far gone he is just at you stroking his dick slow, shy whimpers and other noises eliciting from his mouth.

You unbutton you shirt with your other hand as you continue to pump him and his eyes go crazed at the sight of your tits, you guiding his own big inexperienced hands to grope at them and he does, slumping his head into your neck and shoulder moaning into it and still groping and squeezing at your tits.

With a sudden yelp you feel Soobin’s cum spurt up and leak into your hands, his eyes rolling back as he whimpers continuously from his premature orgasm.

He doesn’t lift his head from your shoulder yet, too embarrassed to face you but he eventually does, eyes still half lidded, trying to catch his breath and he’s hard again. “W-will you fuck me? Please please please. Wanna feel it, wanna feel you, please?” He practically begs, still panting out.

“Are you really sure, Soobin? With me?”

“Yes please! Only want you.”

You study his face for any hesitancy but it’s clear he’s so set on wanting you to fuck him. So you wrap your hands around both his wrists and bring him to lay down on your pillows instead, you still straddling his lap.

When you’ve undressed your lower half, you bring his dick and slide it over your entrance a few times, he moans out loud, hands coming up shyly to cover his face and then you sink down incredibly slowly on his massive length . Soobin’s jaw drops and breath hitches at the feeling of his dick finally in your warm pussy, a strangled moan ripping out of him. He could seriously cum just from being in you right now, but he tries so hard not to or you’ll be disappointed and he doesn’t want to see you disappointed or embarrass himself even more.

“You good, baby?”

“M’ f-fine. Just-Just need a minute.” Soobin shakes out.

You take his hands away from his face and lean down to softly kiss him instead, trying to calm him down and he effuses into your mouth, kissing back passionately with his eyes closed.

“I’m ready now…” He pulls away after a while and looks you in the eyes.

So you start to slowly move, riding him, going up and down on his virgin dick. Soobin’s mouth hangs open in endless moans and gasps and whimpers, face buried into your pillow to the side and his hair all messy now. Whole body flushed and shaking underneath you.

“Better than you thought, baby?” You grunt out, bouncing on top of his cock.

“So much better. O-oh my god, f-fuck…ah!” So maybe sex wasn’t overhyped after all. Because goddamn, you feel so fucking good. Maybe it was just you. But Soobin truly feels like he’s gliding on fluffy clouds right now. All the times he’s touched himself not even coming close to how he feels right now stuffed in your pussy as you fuck him, watching mesmerised as your tits bounce with each movement. He could die here right now in full contentment. Oh how he was so wrong.

It’s not long at all before Soobin can’t hold it anymore. His hips bucking up and breath hitching as a loud strangled mewl tumbles out of his mouth and you feel hot cum fill you up suddenly that makes you still your movements on him. He lets out a long slurred groan and then goes limp beneath you, eyes closing shut and open as he fades from conscious to not every now and then. Is he really that fucked out?

After a while, he finally somewhat recovers and comes back to you from his high, still panting out and chest rising up and down. He looks up at you with a small shy smile on his lips, arm thrown over his forehead.

“You know I literally only go to the bakery because of how cute and silly you are and how you always make a mess of yourself whenever I walk in” You chuckle and admit, drawing shapes into his chest.

“W-wait you knew I liked you?” Soobin asks, shocked and feeling embarrassed again.

You laugh, “Come on, you made it rather obvious.”

Please actually reblog !!!!!! and leave comments !!!! guys 😭 if you like the fic. It’s really appreciated and so nice tysm !<3🙏💕🌷🌷! It’s incredibly discouraging and irriating when fics have such little reblogs ☹️. At least send an anon in the inbox if you don’t want to rb, don’t just like. Feedback is always appreciated it make writers want to actually write :)

A/n: having serious writers block rn but forced myself to write this in practically one sitting (it was so painful) and has not been proof read at all so if it makes no sense I apologise 😭

#soobin smut #Soobin x reader #txt smut #sub!idol #txt headcanons #txt scenarios #sub soobin #dom reader #dom! reader #txt x reader #sub txt #soobin hard thoughts #choi soobin smut #choi Soobin x reader #soobin scenarios #sub! txt #sub idol

5K notes · View notes

anisangeldust · 6 months ago

Text

Cupids Arrow | S.M.

Summary: After falling pathetically in love; Sam Monroe decides to give Valentine’s Day a chance.

Pairing: Sam Monroe x popular!Fem reader

Warnings: annoying Sam, use of “faggot” (in a playful way) and “gaybo” (derogatory), lwk self loathing, loser in love Sam, kinda a heavy make out sesh, semi public smut, dry humping, premature ejaculation ? Whimpering Sam, reader teases him and he gets off on it.

A/N: this is lwk self insert and I’m not ashamed abt it. Also I lwk hate it but wtv :( happy vday!!

“Naw bro, she’s fine as fuck” Josh nudges his friend as you walk past. You’d switched high schools and joined the previous semester. It’s as if you were an overnight success, fresh blood, pretty face, and rich parents, a recipe for being the top of the social ladder.

Even sad, mopey, emo Sam Monroe wasn’t immune to your charm

“Fuck off dude, she’d never go for you. You look and act like a faggot. She needs a strong man.” Josh’s friend flexes and raises his eyebrows up and down at you. You rolled your eyes playfully and continued walking to class.

With a scowl, Sam’s eyes followed the whole interaction. What of you did want him? Why did he care? Sam didn’t want you, or your preppy attitude, you fluffy hair that fell above your boobs, your low rise Abercrombie & Finch jeans that barely pass dress code— No. No. He didn’t care about or notice you. You or your big eyes and full lips— No.

And he especially didn’t notice you or the way his heart rate sped up when you smiled at him.

——

If there’s one thing Sam hated more than his father it was P.E. You were the only thing that made the class tolerable. Except he didnt think that because he barely noticed you or your teeny Juicy Couture shorts at all.

Even worse than P.E. (And Sam’s dad) was dodgeball. Fuck dodgeball. Sam thought as he stood in the corner of the gym and watched all the popular guys peacock for your attention.

A star ball hit Sam in the face, and the accompanying voice of one of the jocks followed “you’re out gaybo! Sit the fuck down!” And Sam rolled his eyes, sitting down as he flipped off the guy.

Like a guardian angel sent by a god he didn’t believe in, you threw a ball at the jock and got him out, playfully flipping him off like Sam did.

You go up to Sam and offer a hand. “C’mon, you’re back in. You okay? Looked like a nasty hit.” You smile.

Despite the bit of chill in the winter air, Sam felt a warmth spread across his face. “Yeah no.. whatever. Im good. Im fine” he scoffs, taking your hand to get up and dropping it suddenly when he realizes he just accidentally held your hand

“M’kay” I smile and saunter off to keep playing.

——

“It doesn’t mean anything. Shes nice to everyone” Sam sighs and rubs his face as he and Corey sit in the roof of his station wagon.

Corey takes a long inhale of their shared cigarette “yeah but..” he exhales “she helped you.. or some shit. I don’t know. But I can feel it. She likes you dude” he lays back.

Sam leans back and looks up at the sky, biting his bottom lip in contemplation. “Yeah but— fuck man. I can’t just ask her to be my valentine. That’s corny. And she probably has one” Sam sighs

Corey rolls his eyes “does she even entertain the other guys? There’s no harm in asking. Just like, buy her flowers or chocolate or something I don’t know. But ask her” Corey takes a puff.

“Y’know what. Fuck it man. I’ll ask” Sam nods and takes the cigarette, taking a long breath in and letting the exhale dwindle away in the night sky, his mind on you, you and your plump lips..

“Do you think Angel likes roses?” Sam groans

Corey huffs “probably. Get some chocolate too. Shit dude, maybe even a card” he giggles.

——

Walking through the halls of the school had never been so embarrassing. Who did Sam think he was? Using the little bit of cash he had that he’d usually spend on weed for chocolate and stupid flowers? It was too late to back down now. He had to focus.. but even as you got closer he could feel your eyes on him..

Clutching the six roses in his hand, Sam clears his throat to get your attention. “Hey.. uhm— could I talk to you..?” He murmurs and looks around at your friends. Your popular friends, all hanging around your locker. This was a bad idea.

The gentle smile that teased the corner of your lips almost made him forget to breathe “Of course.” You smile and lead him away to a different hallway “we’ll be right back” you look back at your friend then focus on him.

Oh god he was going to do it. “Uhm.. I was wondering if maybe you’d like.. I dunno.. be my valentine?” He murmurs and holds out the roses, opening his backpack and grabbing the chocolate.

He couldn’t bring himself to look at you, he was so close to just walking away, but the gentle sound of your giggles bring his gaze back. “Of course I will Sammy” you take the gifts “thank you, these are beautiful.

He was shocked. You said yes? This was a joke. A bet. You were just pitying him. “Really?” He whispers, not quite registering that you actually agreed. “Well uhm.. how about I like.. take you to dinner..?” He spews before his mind can catch up with his mouth.

You smile wider “Yes really. And I’d like that.” You take out a notebook and scribble down two things “here’s my number and address. Let me know the details” you kiss his cheek “Bye Sammy”.

He’s eyes followed you like a magnet “See ya..” he mumbles, bringing a hand up to where you kissed him, gently touching the spot with the pads of his fingers.

——

Nervous wasn’t even in the ballpark of emotions he was feeling. This still had to be some elaborate prank, a joke, never mind that he’d called you 3 times and told you to be ready for a dinner he planned, his heart swelling at the excited tone of your voice. You’d stand him up, he’d drive to your house like an idiot and you’d tell him you weren’t serious.

Telling his parents was arguably just as nerve wracking.

<<Hey mom uhm, could you help me.. maybe?>> Sam mumbled to his mother, Robin, as she cooked dinner, her eyes widened in surprise as not only did her angsty son talk to her, but he was asking for help?

She smiled << yeah i suppose.. with what..?>> her tone was gentle, almost hesitant.

Sam shrugged <<I uhm.. like.. maybe have a Valentine’s Day date..>> he cleared his throat and had to stop the smile as his mom rattled on about who you were and then helped Sam with all the details.

Standing at the door of your very nice home, in his only pair of decent dress slacks and a black button down, Sam clutched the bouquet of roses his mom helped pick out and rang the doorbell.

A middle aged woman with sleek brown hair answered the door. “Ah, you must be Sam” she smiles.

Sam nods, running a hand through his black and blue hair “yeah.. that’s me” he gives a lopsided smile “is your daughter ready?” He asks.

“She should be.” Your mom turns into the house “darling! Your dates here!” And the click clack of heels meets Sam’s ears.

You looked stunning. Breathtaking. Sam was flummoxed as he met your gaze. Your dress was a beautiful blush color, and your makeup matched. Sam reminded himself to blink as you approached “Hey.. happy Valentine’s Day” he quirked up his lips and held out the bouquet of flowers.

“These are gorgeous. Thank you” you smile and take his hand, this time on purpose, and walk to his car. Sam opens the passenger seat before climbing in the drivers seat and twisting his key.

Mr. Self destruct by Nine Inch Nails starts to play up again and Sam quickly turns it off “Sorry.. I was uh..” he flushes with sudden embarrassment at his music taste.

You turn the dial back up “don’t apologize. I’d be happy to listen to the music you enjoy” you smile and admire his side profile as he drives, your eyes drawn to the way his hands fiddle with the gear shift, taking in the faint scent of weed that lingers on the leather seats. It was so him, so perfect.

——

The date was perfect. A beautiful awkward mix of Sam’s corny jokes and your elegant aura. It became clear that not only was it not a pity date, but maybe you actually liked him back? He tried not to let himself dwell on the idea. But as the server called you guys “cute” and you just thanked him, Sam could feel himself falling deeper into this boyish crush.

Walking out of the restaurant hand in hand, Sam decided to deviate from his original plan “We should get ice cream. I know this lookout point I smoke at sometimes. It’s perfect for stargazing” the sudden boost of confidence he had talking for him.

“I’d like that a lot” you take his hand and walk to his car.

——

For the first time Sam felt like the universe was on his side. Eating ice cream on Valentine’s Day, sitting in the open trunk of his car with the girl he likes and watching the stars after a successful date, the only thing that would make it better was if he didn’t have a raging boner from watching you lick cream off your lips.

As you got down to the bottom of your cone and started to lick the melted desert off your fingers, Sam wiggled and tried to pull away. But you noticed. Of course you noticed.

“Something wrong?” You look at him and scoot closer.

He swallowed audibly “nothing.. nothing wrong.. I’m great” he shakes his head vehemently.

You lean your head closer, the hot air mingling between you “you sure? You look flushed” you giggle and tease.

He dares to lean in “am not!”

You smile “are too” and then your lips attach. The kiss is heavy, full of Sams insecurity and your desire. His inexperienced tongue moves around your mouth, his pants growing tighter from the taste of your lips.

Climbing onto his lap, you finally see the source of his awkwardness “mmm.. is that what’s wrong?” You tease and gently move your hips over his hard on.

Sam gasps into the kiss, whimpering and letting his mouth part “y-yeah..” he stutters, trying to latch onto his last shred of gentlemanly thoughts.

“You’re so adorable” your giggles make him flushed.

“I’m not adorable.. I’m.. I dunno..” he stutters pathetically, panting into the kiss and bucking his hips up.

You keep moving “pretty sure you are. You’re whimpering like a loser. A cute loser” you kiss and suck on his jaw.

Sam lets out a moan “nuh uh..” he tries for the last time to hold on, but as he opens his eyes and meets your gaze, he’s done for. With one finally little whine, he cums in his pants, bucking his hips up and kissing you.

Both if you look at eachother with wide eyes, the look in his is terrified, the look in yours in playful “did you just..?” And he tears up

“Sorry.. ‘m so sorry.. couldn’t help it..” he pouts and looks at his lap.

You flick his nose to get his attention “I’m not mad Sammy.. that was.. hot” he giggle and kiss him again.

“Hot..?” He mumbles and his hands find your waist.

“And pathetic. Hot and pathetic.” You confirm with a nod of your head.

#˚₊‧꒰ა angel writes! ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#anisangeldust #Sam Monroe #subby sam my love #sam monroe x y/n smut #sub sam monroe #sam monroe x y/n #sam monroe x you #sam monroe fanfiction #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #life as a house #life as a house fanfiction #x reader smut #x reader #hayden christensen #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen smut #ughhh I love him

802 notes · View notes