#it's currently completely empty but. it's there. :P

[certaintricks]

also i made that sakiko sideblog, so if anyone's interested, lmk and i'll give you the link!

[rafey-baby]

how did older!rafe and sensitive!reader meet?

c/w: fluff, their meet cute & first time, age gap (not specified), smut: p-in-v, use of dad, 18+ mdni!

wc: 1.5k 

posted this for @hittmeandtellmeyouremine and her only <3 (couldn’t help but edit this anyway cause it was all over the place tbh)

more of them on my masterlist btw!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -  

The Island Club is buzzing. 

Usually, she’s not too fond of spending her Friday night surrounded by preppy, intoxicated Kooks (a name she’s not too proud to carry herself) but it’s her friend’s birthday and she couldn’t exactly say no when everyone in the group chat kept gushing over how fun it was going to be.  

Nonetheless, she finds herself giggling whilst some drunken guy at the bar begins chatting about this little Dalmatian puppy he recently adopted with his boyfriend. He’s even going as far as showing them pictures of the all too adorable black and white furball on his phone screen, when her lovely bladder decides to remind her of the alcohol she’s consumed before she’s excusing herself to the restroom—weaving through sweaty bodies with mumbled apologies and wobbly legs.  

Then, completely out of the blue, icy liquid is soaking through her top and halting her movements. 

“Shit, sorry,” the guy who stumbled into her drawls out and she blinks up—meeting broad shoulders and shard features that belong to an older man easily twice her age and entirely too handsome to be considered fair.  

“Oh, it’s okay,” she squeaks out, delayed, star-struck, attempting to continue on with her journey before she embarrasses herself even further. However, she doesn’t get the chance to do anything before a warm palm on her upper arm tugs her back.  

“Nah, s’fully my fault, let me—uh, do they have any...” he looks around, searching for something before his expression brightens. “Right, yeah, the bathroom,” he slurs, seemingly proud of himself, and she figures he must’ve had one too many glasses of the whiskey currently seeping through the lacy material of her bra.  

She opens her mouth to tell him it’s fine but he’s already dragging her towards the back with a hold on her wrist before he’s setting her on top of the dirty bathroom counter where a few girls are fixing each other’s makeup. Upon his arrival, one of them rolls her eyes—the door slamming shut behind them soon after. But he doesn’t even seem to notice, already patting at her chest with some paper towels, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world.  

“Um, thanks,” she mumbles, already teetering on the edge of tipsy and absolutely wasted herself, which is why she doesn’t question his strange behavior too much; merely sits there and lets him concentrate on the soggy spot on her shirt.  

“Look, you can’t even see it, s’a good thing you wearin’ black, huh?” he grins before throwing the damp pieces of paper into the trash while she grabs some more tissues to dab underneath the fabric, the skin of her chest sticky and gross.  

“We haven’t, uh, we haven’t met before, right? M’Rafe,” his voice is smooth syrup when he suddenly holds out his palm for her to take. And for a moment, she merely stares at it with rounded eyes before realizing how dumb she must seem.  

“Hi, sorry, no, we haven’t,” she quickly answers before taking his much bigger hand into her own, holding onto it for far too long to be considered appropriate as she stumbles over her own name—something amused blooming on his face in response.  

“S’nice to meet you,” he smiles, gaze holding her hostage while she struggles to look away.  

“Thank you,” her cheeks heat up when her apparently empty brain has the chance to process her mistake. “I mean...you too?” a flustered giggle bubbles out of her throat, wishing she could evaporate into thin air right about now.  

However, he doesn’t seem to mind her making a complete fool out of herself because he merely chuckles, seemingly entertained as his eyes flit over her features in curiosity.  

“You, uh, you want another drink?” he asks. “...as an apology for ruinin’ your top ‘n shit,” he adds when she seems hesitant.  

“Oh, um…yeah, that’d be—uh, great. But m’actually here for my friend’s birthday so...I can’t,” she manages out, confused when something akin to disappointment in cerulean blue greets her. 

“Shame.”  

- - - - - - - - -  

For the following weeks, Rafe sticks to the forefront of her mind like honey until one night, she bumps into someone after leaving the restaurant her date never showed up to—far too occupied deciding that she’d never listen to her friend again to realize who it is. Because why would she make her believe that some stupid guy they met at the library of all places, would be perfect for her? 

“Y/N? What’re you doin’ here all by yourself?” Rafe’s familiar rumble makes her annoyed thoughts vanish, causing her to look up in surprise. 

“Oh, hi...this is, um, kinda embarrassing,” she mumbles while his gaze flits over her dress and the heels that were already making her feet hurt. And she has no choice but to explain what had happened, for some reason growing teary-eyed in the process because he listens so patiently, a concerned crease between his brows making her feel like he actually cares. 

“Listen, that guy was a fuckin’ idiot if he stood you up, alright?” he scoffs, sounding exasperated and making her smile despite the few droplets already soaking her cheeks. And he seems so understanding, so considerate when he wipes away her tears and gives her a warm hug before offering to take her out for dinner instead. 

“I mean, it’d be a waste of such a pretty dress, yeah?” he makes it sound like the most logical thing and she can’t help but agree, thinking he’s merely being polite because she’s just humiliated herself in front of someone she barely knows.  

And she thinks he’s just wonderful when he takes her to the most expensive restaurant on the island—cracking stupid jokes that make her giggle while she wonders why she hadn’t met this dream of a man sooner.  

However, when their bellies are warm and satiated, she begins to feel entirely too guilty about him spending so much money on her, already insisting on splitting the bill. But when she’s going through her purse for her wallet, he merely lets out a humored chuckle, muttering out how she’s apparently so cute for even thinking he’d let her do that.  

And somehow, one thing leads to another, and the night ends with her splayed out on his bed—a whimpering mess of tears and smudged makeup while his big hands roam all over her skin.  

“You let me between these thighs so fuckin’ easy, huh? I mean m’old enough to be your dad, you know that, right?” he mocks while he stuffs her full. 

“Don’t say that,” she whines, embarrassed because she can’t help but squeeze around him when the word leaves his mouth.  

“Why? Cause that shit turns you on?” he chuckles, tone teetering on the edge of patronizing and genuinely curious while his stubble tickles the skin of her neck he’s smearing sloppy kisses all over.  

“…no,” she tries to hide her face behind her hands when he looks up.  

“No? Why you squeezin’ me like that then, hm?” he raises his brows, grabbing her jaw to force her to lock eyes with him when he suddenly pushes in deeper. 

And she’s so taken aback that he somehow managed to dig out this part of her, something she keeps locked away in the basement of her mind because not everyone gets it—not everyone’s able to pick up on the telltale signs of her addled little brain craving for something more than just a conventional boyfriend. 

She’s can’t answer the man above her though, not when he’s emptied her cerebrum in the span of a few moments and she feels so overwhelmed all of a sudden, unable to form anything audible when he’s molding her insides to his liking and looking at her like that.  

“S’okay baby, don’t need to be embarrassed, dad will take such good care of you, alright?” he coos, a grin tugging at his mouth when she gushes around him in response.  

The only thing she can focus on are his heady breaths brushing over her face while he paws at her hips—rutting into her over and over and over again until she’s soaking his cock and her cheeks are decorated in mascara stains and teardrops.  

“There you go, jus’ let it all out, yeah? Let me take care of you,” he croons, talking her through it before his thrusts grow lazy and he’s glazing her gummy walls in white; filling her up to the brim with the sticky mess until it begins to dribble down from where they’re still connected.  

And after he’s cleaned her up and given her his shirt to sleep in, he holds her close to his chest, strong and comforting arms wrapped around her middle making her feel safe, protected. It makes her eyes well up with soggy droplets all over again because everything wrong suddenly feels so right. As if a piece she’s been missing all her life has finally been placed in the shallow hole that she’s always carried around without even realizing—in the shape of a father.  

Suddenly, her always so heavy thoughts don’t weigh her down all that much anymore—not when her mind is blossoming in an entirely novel way with all things Rafe.  

And as his sleepy breaths and steady heartbeat pacify her more than anything ever has, she thinks she wants to feel like this forevermore. 

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Used (drabble)

pairing: felix x afab!reader, implied ot8 x reader

genre: filthy smut

wc: 723

warnings: cockwarming, unprotected sex, partner sharing, degradation, praise, LOTS of dirty talk, creampie, breeding kink, reader is called slut

a/n: i'm in a lil writing slump so this is an attempt at getting out of it, enjoy (i guess😭)💕

You were currently lying under your best friend Felix, your legs wrapped around him and his cock buried deep inside your heat. It wasn't the first time he needed the closeness and the comfort and you were happy to be of service, letting him seek your warmth.

You were scrolling on your phone as he almost fell asleep on top of you but then you shifted just a little, making him groan into your neck.

"Y/n." he whined before lifting up and looking at you. You tossed your phone aside and gave him a smirk.

"Spread your legs." his voice was dark and a shiver ran up your spine, doing as you were told.

Felix started to move slowly, fucking your stretched wet pussy, his eyes rolling back at the feeling as he grunted.

You gasped, letting out a string of moans as you clutched onto him.

"Did you cockwarm the other guys like this, hm?" he asked, dragging his cock through your walls.

"Mm, yeah." you whimpered when his tip hit your spot.

"Tell me how you did it." Felix wrapped one hand around your neck, his other squeezing on your breast.

"I- I cockwarmed Hyunjin while he was painting." you started.

"Yeah? Did you let him fuck you?" Felix pinched your nipple, making you whine as he still fucked into you with languid movement.

"Yes. He bended me over his table and fucked me hard." you bit on your lip, your pussy clenching around Felix's length.

"Who else?" he smirked, pulling his cock almost completely out before rocking back into you harder, making you moan.

"C-Chan." you whimpered. "In the studio."

"Mhm." he squeezed your neck a little and you gasped, lifting your middle up to meet his thrusts.

"Did he fuck you good after that?"

"He fucked me so good." you whimpered as Felix gripped your thighs, pushing your knees up to your shoulders.

"And Changbin?"

"I cockwarmed him with my mouth." you confessed and Felix twitched inside you, the image of you kneeling with your mouth stuffed full of Changbin's cock made him weak.

"I bet you liked your little mouth stretched around him, hm?" Felix gripped the flesh on the back of your thighs as he fucked you a little harder, your pussy so warm and wet around him.

"I loved it." you whined, nails digging into the mattress under you.

"What about last night? I heard you and Seungmin." Felix smirked, increasing his speed and making you even more wet, the squelching sounds of your pussy filling up the room.

"He fucked me from behind. I even let him put it in my ass." you whimpered at the memory.

"Damn, you really are just a little slut, aren't you?" Felix groaned, rocking his hips into yours and making you moan as you clenched hard around him.

"I am." you confirmed, biting on your lip.

"Tell me more." Felix demanded, fucking you harder and making your head spin.

"I fucked Jeongin this morning."

"Yeah? Did you ride him like a good girl?"

"I did." you whimpered, so close to release.

"You wanna cum, slut?" Felix grinned, his fingertips grazing your sensitive clit.

"Y-yes, please!" you moaned.

"Cum around me." he ordered, flicking your clit as he kept fucking into you hard.

"Ah, Felix!" you fell apart, exploding around him as he kept fucking you through your high and chasing his own.

"You want my cum, slut?" he panted and you gasped, gripping onto his arms.

"P-please!"

"Fuck, I know you love to be stuffed by all eight of us. Want us to breed this greedy little pussy?" Felix grunted, fucking you so hard that you came around him once again.

"Yes I do!" you cried out and he exploded, ropes od warm cum filling you up.

"Minho told me to stretch you good for him today." Felix breathed hard before pulling out.

"Mm." you whimpered at the emptiness but that was soon replaced by four of his fingers pushing inside your fucked out pussy.

"So, I'm not done with you yet. You're gonna take it like a good slut until Minho comes to fuck you." he smirked at your teary eyes as he continued fucking you hard with his fingers.

You whined, spreading your legs more, happy to be used by all eight of your best friends.

taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @hwangjoanna @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @my-neurodivergent-world @hyyunjinnn @spookybuttsstuff-blog

[screampied]

Pls write a Toji fic where at any point he says he fucking loves your pussy 😞 Toji’s dirty talk is just different

toji being obsessed with your pussy ★

cw. fem! reader, brief p in v, degradation, spıt, ōral (f! receiving), overstim, hair pulling, mdni.

it was no secret— toji fushiguro was a nasty man,

the nastiest. especially whenever it came to being propped up between your legs. whether it’s giving you ruthless thrusts to where your toes are all curled up and numb, or . . he’s shoved face first right between your plush thighs. it was hard to differentiate whether his slick mouth or his dick in general was the nastiest of the two. currently, he’d have you sprawled out on the bed. your ankles instinctively lock against his slim waist as he’s pounding into you again and again. “shit, ‘m gonna fill you up again, baby,” he’d groan, grabbing ahold of one of your legs. it dangles as you’re just being fucked stupid. the most doltish expression marinated against your face before he brings your ankle up to his mouth to give it a teasing kiss. “mhm, always know how to take me everytime. wet girl, ‘s fuckin’ sloppy just for me.”

“t- tojiiii,” you’d whine out in pathetic babbles.

due to his thick size and even thicker girth, the stomach seizing that churns all throughout your lower abdomen comes so easily that you’re panting.

hot, parching breaths of airy air aerates out of your sheeny parted lips before he’s balls deep. you’re clenching down onto him tight, gripping him with all your might like a vice and he sucks his teeth from the addictive rapture. leafy, cunning eyes of his stare into you and a hand of his gingerly wraps around your throat. “fuck, f-fuuuck. inside, ‘toj. i can’t take it.”

“course ya can,” he snickers, grinding his beefy body against yours before he sneaks a kiss against your trembling lips. the strong taste of alcohol resides on his tongue and you moan before he precipitously pulls away. “hold onto my arms, sweet girl. ‘s gonna get a bit messy, heh.”

as he continues to mercilessly drill into you—he lets off a four second groan. it’s so low that you can hear the baritone growl from underneath it. it’s sexy. you stare up at him with glossy eyes, the way he elongates the single syllable in such a gruff tone.

it makes you throb, toji’s head throws itself back as he’s starting to flood your womb with such goopy amounts of his cum. it trickles into you in ropes, satiny rich ropes that leave you feeling entirely fulfilled.

fulfilled in a filthy way though,

“. . goddamn,” he huffs as his chest steadily raises in and out. your shaky legs still envelop around his slim waist as he’s pumping you full of cock. the vicious wet squelches that came out of your own cunt was so lewd, he never wants the noise to stop. “such a messy girl. mhmm,” and he slowly pulls his pulsating dick out. gradually, he’s purposely taking his time and smirking at your little irritated whimper. devastatingly enough, your gaping entrance now feels completely empty once he’s not inside of you anymore. all you feel was the freshly soaked viscous wads of seed shoved all inside of your walls. still gushing, he leans down and brings his face right up against your legs. “mine.” he purrs, poking out a single thumb to spread your puffed, swollen lips open. toji happily gawks at the mess he created, you’re still trying to catch your own breath as you’re slumped back against the cushioned bed frame.

it’s so sticky—he flicks his tongue near the right side of his mouth. it swipes against his inclined scar and you can hear his breathy chortle right between your legs.

you knew what that meant,

he wanted more, he was still hungry and he was gonna clean you right up—after all, toji didn’t like putting things to waste. especially if that ‘thing’ was nothing more than his precious cum.

“f- fuck, toji,” you moan, your hips wriggling a bit as he pries your legs apart from each other. as he moves you a bit, you wreathe from his weight thwacking against you. with the way his cum droops out of your fluttering entrance.

oh, it was such a sight to see.

a fat thumb of his goads toward your dampened, oozing slit before he gives your sloppy pussy a single kiss. toji doesn’t even flinch at the taste of himself now starting to go against his tongue.

it’s bitter anyway—barely with a taste to it but with a concoction of your sweet arousal, it tasted appetizing,

you tasted appetizing.

“you’re s-so nasty.” you puff, tugging ahold of his ravened strands. he’s always loved whenever you did that. as he’s still swaying his hips against you, you take it upon yourself to comb a few curling fingers into his rumpled hair. toji simpers, showing you nothing but a sly, hungry gaze. “t- toji, mhm.”

“yeah, girl. duh, nasty just for you though,” he whispers against your pussy. his breath was warm, feverish even. with each movement he moves closer, lolling out his tongue to get a good enough taste, you’re throbbing right in his mouth. your back naturally arches and he hums, slurping in your syrupy fervor. “fuckin’ love this pussy, ‘s sweet. sweet ‘n sloppy. listen to how she tries to give me little back talk, baby.”

and you grow mute—feeling him purse his lips, moving away to only then bring a big hand towards your slick opening. as you’re convulsing time and time again, he slithers two thickset fingers inside of your entrance and you whine. another hand of his starts to give your cunt a few rude spanks. you jolt back, moaning with your exposed breasts harmonizing with your unsteady movements. “ooh,” he snarls, hearing the slosh. it’s so wet, a few spurts of your juices even lands directly underneath his chin. he licks it with his tongue before giving it another spank, and another, and another.

swatting a palm repeatedly against your pussy, you’re continuing to drag and scrape his face closer between your thighs. “like that, huh. fuckin’ messy girl,” and he spanks it again before blowing against it. “my messy girl. my messy pussy.”

and toji starts to make out with your cunt. literally french kisses against it with tongue—his lengthy dark lashes close shut before he latches his lips against your swollen walls, feeling your body twitch in response. “heh,” he exhales deeply before departing his spit-coated lips away. his scar tickling against your entrance and another whine dies out of your throat. “keep this up ‘n ‘m gonna propose to this sloppy cunt, right princess?”

and he’s not even talking to you anymore, nor is he looking at you—he’s talking to your pussy, as if it, could reply.

“exactly,” he jibes, gifting you a final mean spank against your folds before flipping you over. you gasp once he pulls your hips against him. a hand of his squeezes a fat chunk of your ass before he spanks it. the recoil of your ass makes him groan. “mhm, not done though. gimme that arch again baby, bend against me. gonna take my time with you, messy girl.”

[retiredteabag]

That’s all it takes?

Synopsis: you’ve worked alongside Gojo Satoru for years; he’s painfully arrogant, critical about everything, and infuriatingly competent at his job. Worst of all, he’s just as striking as everyone thinks. For once, someone looks your way, why is it he cares so much?

tags: lowkey enemies/rivals to lovers, reader has a thing for being praised, journalist au, unedited (sorry :P)

pt. 1?

my masterlist

You'd thought the intern was trying to get a good word out of you at first. It wasn't uncommon for aspiring journalists to do whatever they could to get their foot in the door of such a competitive industry. The fact that he had been accepted onto the office floor seemingly was not enough for him. Hey, you could appreciate a handworker.

The clicking of the keyboard directly before you could only be overshadowed by the usual smacking of gum from the editor who was absent today. Her vacant desk oddly quiet. You flipped through your notebook and added even more sticky notes to your monitor, reminders of all the tasks to complete this week.

You were just about as type A as a person could be, everything was done on time, and done well. You had made something of a name for yourself and the validation kept you going. You devoured praise like it was the only thing sustaining you. That was the type of attitude that landed you positions in the greatest opinion piece publisher in Japan.

You weren't the only one who was overly competitive; however, no, someone else had become well-known even beyond his article acclaim.

The sweet little interns watched that man now like hawks. The moment his boisterous presence entered the open floor of the office cubicles, eyes followed him with an anxious reverence reserved only for the brain behind the words so many bore witness to.

Satoru Gojo was a well-known creature, even outside of journalism, the press, and the news.

Today, of course, he was in one of those moods. He sauntered into the room with a casual arrogance of someone who knew full well that the earth continued to rotate because he demanded it to be so.

The meeting he had just left was running late, his afternoon had been disrupted and the chaos he had yet to dispel was surely about to be unleashed on some unsuspecting intern.

"I've worked here far too long for superiors to still be unable to summarize a damn meetinggg~" Gojo hummed around a mouthful of croissant he had stolen from the client table. The editor that typically sat beside you would have flinched at Gojo's current gesticulation mid-rant.

You missed the peace she brought you when Gojo came around. Crumbs fell as the man licked his fingers. "Wasting my time like that, someone's gotta let them go."

You spun in your chair, looking back to see if Yaga, the company's publishing editor-in-chief, the very man Satoru Gojo was badmouthing over a sip of smoothie, was hearing his insults.

You didn't even blink when the very 'superior' exited from the conference room, waving Gojo off. The interns seemed even more worried. "The office doesn't revolve around your snacking schedule, Gojo. If you want perfect synchronicity, you might as well quit."

The apprentices looked between each other and you smiled them off, silently telling them to get back to researching the projects they were supposed to be putting together.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Satoru squinted, judging your very existence with his gaze.

He sighed theatrically, lounging himself across an open swivel chair of the empty editors cubical as if sitting through an assembly was the greatest waste of his precious- "They should know how important my time is-"

You roll your eyes, cutting him off, "Oh yes, so terribly important that you're spending it eating and bitching to me."

If you were being wholly honest, the shareholders in that meeting should be grateful. You'd never say it aloud, but Satoru Gojo wasn't just a writer. He was a cultural phenomenon. In his early twenties, he had already been revered for his reporting and interviewing skills, his name had graced more publications post-grad than you had even after building your portfolio.

His rate per word was outrageous as well as his schedule: a true nightmare. The Tokyo Times was beyond lucky to have been able to keep him on the team for as long as they had.

He sighed, rolling his eyes, the drama queen. He reached across you, stealing one of your pens and spinning it around amidst his fingers. "'The only reason I haven't jumped ship is because it brings me." He glided out of the chair and leaned against your cubicle, sliding the pen along the decor you had there, observing it, "so much pleasure", you wince at his seductive tone, "to bring you…annoyance." You smack his hand before he can poke the fat of your cheek with the writing utensil.

Satoru grins, spinning away with your pen, scraping up a donut before making the way back to his office. His very own, if you were curious.

One of the trainees from earlier was watching this interaction. He had a look of shock on his face as if he couldn't imagine someone smacking The Satoru Gojo.

You'd like to imagine he just couldn't fathom such a well-revered writer being so immature, but alas, that was less likely.

If it was possible for someone to be more critical than yourself when it came to work, it was Satoru. He had this sadistic urge in him that made it impossible to not call out the mistakes of others. It stung. That was the truth, but you would rather he tell you his thoughts then lie to your face and laugh behind your back.

Working with him was more of a challenge than a motivation most days. The salary was a great motivation, though. Yaga and his team paid you well. More than that though, was the rage to outlive that white haired tantrum of a man.

You could see it in the way he smirked at you, in the way his eyes found yours when you would slip up, the way he never seemed to take you seriously. This might just be the worst aspect of your personality; you just couldn't help but want to impress people, even if they didn't respect you.

"He seems like fun to work alongside." One of the interns had left the side of his fellow novices. Making small talk, telling a joke.

You shrug at the young man, "Most can't tolerate him for longer than a fiscal quarter. I hope you have what it takes."

He looked down at his shoes suddenly, "Me too."

He was tall, or taller than you at least, sweet, and earnest. He dressed up for every day at the office, he was never late, and he greeted every employee by name - to put it simply, he made a good impression. You turn your chair to him, "How are you liking your internship, is it the experience you hoped for?"

He smiled again, and his eyes practically twinkled. "I'm very grateful for the experience, I'll continue to work hard."

"I have no doubt." You nodded encouragingly at him and turned to face the screen before you. You figured he would move onto his fellows, go work on his project maybe, but he stayed standing there for a moment too long.

He heaved a breath as if steeling himself to say something risky. "Actually, there's something I wanted to ask you."

He looked suddenly shy, "I've read a lot of your stuff, you've been a real inspiration to me, and being able to work here has been-"

You know where this is going, you give him an understanding nod. Reading off the name on his chest, you lean in conspiratorially, whispering "I'm sorry, I won't be able to sway the decisions on who gets offered jobs after your program is up. But you're a hard worker, I'm sure y-"

He startles suddenly, waving his hands frantically, "No! Oh, no, no, I'm not... asking for anything like that... I'm sorry I came off that way, I was just... well," He swallows, and you attempt to track his eyes as they wander, confused about what he could possibly want from you.

"I just... I admire you a lot. You're bright, and...you're beautiful...and I was actually wondering if I could buy you a meal sometime?" He sounded so unsure of himself but he was standing up straight, breathing through his nose.

You weren't sure what to say. You knew you weren't unattractive but to be completely frank, people didn't ask you out. You chalked it up to being intimidating or perpetually busy, or a control freak. Whatever the cause, you were not accustomed to people liking you in that way.

You flush.

"Oh..." You had to replay his words over and over again. Your mouth opened and closed, and you tried to weigh what he was asking. He was cute, but also… he was an intern at the company you worked for.

Before you could even formulate a response, you were jerked back to reality when the gentleman who had just so adamantly confessed his feelings made an "aagh!" noise.

Yaga was tugging him by the ear. "You, young man, better get back to work before I deduct points from your final presentation for fraternization."

He looked overcome with embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck while apologies spilled from his mouth. Yaga flicked him gently before he could bow anymore and rolled his eyes your way.

Dumbstruck, you stared at the screen of your computer for a long while. A dozen tabs were open, your task bar was still full of items you needed to get to today, even so, you found yourself cupping your cheeks, feeling the blood that had pooled there.

"Please don't tell me that was your type."

You're not sure when he appeared, but Gojo Satoru was staring at you with discernment. He had a judgmental eyebrow raised and he was tongue-ing at his cheek.

"Jesus." You huff, stretching your jaw, trying to brush off the flush you felt atop your ears. "What on earth are you doing?"

You made a brave attempt to type something onto a notation sheet. Dispelling the embarrassment that came with someone actually liking you.

"What am I doing? Look at yourself, you're all sheepish over some kid hitting on you."

You choke, "He's not a kid! He's graduated."

Satoru squints at you now, moving even closer. "Oh my gosh," he pulls a 'I'm-grossed-out-by-you-but-intrigued-all-the-same' face and continues, "are you actually into younger guys?"

"No!" You pant, your hands spread. He wasn't even that much younger than you, but being pressed about anything romantic, especially from Gojo was embarrassing.

"What's with this face you're pulling then?" He tapped the pen he had so rudely stolen earlier atop the wall of your cubicle, "I've never seen you all-" he fake gags, "-shy like this."

You huff, trying to find the words. "I'm-" you scoff, trying again, "not all of us are so used to...that sort of thing."

He straightens up suddenly, pulling his lips together, "Are you saying like... being flirted with?" He chuckles at the idea and you grit your teeth.

Breathing in, you try to laugh, trying to sound nonchalant, but it comes out annoyed. "Yes, Gojo, not everyone has people falling at their feet all the time."

Have I mentioned that Satoru, on top of being an incredibly talented creative, was a painfully striking individual to look at? Well, sure, he was very symmetrical. And tall. And he had...nice teeth. Veins too. It’s fair to say he wasn't lacking when it came to attention.

"So...you like him then." Somehow, he seemed offended at the idea.

"No, not necessarily." Was he trying to insinuate you were some kind of creep? He couldn't have been more than two years your junior. "But he was nice..."

"Nice?" Satoru wheezed. You didn't move. This whole interaction was ticking you off. Gojo's guffaws continued until he noticed you were just silently staring at him. "Are you serious?" He wiped a faux tear.

Why this was so upsetting for you, you couldn't quite place. "Yes, Gojo." You had a bit of an insulted tone to your voice, you wondered why he didn't seem to care about wasting his precious time with you suddenly.

"What... that's all it takes with you?"

Gears began to turn in Satorus' brain as he observed you now, taking in the new information.

"Normal people like niceness, Satoru, crazy, I know." You refuse to meet his gaze but he stands infuriatingly still, arms crossed, before his head canters to the side as if considering the concept for the first time.

"hmm..."

He shifts on his feet. You grow more tense by the second, waiting for his next snide comment. He clicks the pen a few times before slowly, setting it back on your desk. And then he was finally gone.

[likeumeanit9497]

hop on | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: a dare is just a dare, until it isn't. until your breath hitches in your throat. until your body stirs with need. until your drunk mind blurs the line between dare and desire.

warnings: smut; established friendship; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); fingering; handjob; teasing; dirty talk; cream pie; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: for my matt girls since ive been non-stop posting my chris series. honestly even though ive been spending so much time writing ab chris im currently in a matt era (THE BEARD THE BEARD OH MY FUCKING GOD) so this one shot is as much for me as it is for u lmao. love u all so so so much!! ps no ftb chapter tonight but will post one very soon!! <333

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

The triplet’s house was buzzing around you — tipsy chattering, loud music, and the sound of cans cracking open creating the familiar symphony of a party. You felt lighter than usual — likely from both the alcohol in your system and the pleasure of the night so far. After years of being close friends with the triplets, you had attended many of their parties. But tonight something felt different. Not in a very prominent way, but there was a certain energy lingering in the air. Something so subtle you couldn’t quite decipher it, but its presence was noticeable enough to cause a strange fluttering in your stomach.

Your phone read 12:58, and the party was in full swing. There were people scattered all across the triplet’s main floor, but you were sitting with the triplets and a handful of your other friends, creating a loose circle around the coffee table; cluttered with empty bottles, solo cups, and a half-completed stack of Do or Drink cards. You were seated between Nick and Matt, legs tucked comfortably beneath you, cocooned in the safety of two of your closest friends. Although you were good friends with all three triplets, your relationship with Matt was different in a way that neither of you had ever tried to define.

With Nick, things were fast and funny, a friendship built on shared jokes and late-night texts full of chaotic gossip. Chris had always brought the noise. Startlingly magnetic and charming, he had a habit of tossing you into the middle of whatever absurd plans he came up with. But Matt. He was the one who would stand beside you at a crowded event and lean down to ask if you needed air, and then lead you out into the quiet like he already knew the answer.

Over the years, your friendship with him had blossomed into something easy. That rare kind of comfort that never needed to be tended to or explained. You trusted him without effort. You could be with him for hours, half-watching a movie or each reading a book, and not feel the need to fill the air with chatter. Matt never asked you to perform, never made you feel like you couldn’t just be yourself.

As Nick had his turn picking up a card and completing the dare, you reached for your drink — feeling the warmth of the rum as it spread through you. Your eyes were hazy, your limbs were lose, and your mind was numbed by the night spent drinking. Matt noticed, and with a quiet chuckle, took the drink from your hand and placed it on the coffee table — not wanting you to overdo it.

“Your turn, Y/n.” Chris called out from his place across from you, grabbing your attention with his signature charming, bordering on dirty, smile. You offered him a lazy smile of your own before pushing yourself forward to reach a card. “It’s a red card.” You muttered, flicking the card and letting it land haphazardly on the ground before leaning forward again to grab a card from the shorter, though more intimidating pile. As soon as you read the dare on the red card, a squeak escaped your lips. “What does it say?” Prodded Nick, leaning over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of the card. You watched his eyes travel across the phrase before widening as he released a taunting cackle. “Have fun with that, diva.”

“What is it?” Whined Chris, reaching across the coffee table for the card. Rolling your eyes, you held the card away from him before grabbing the rum and coke that Matt had taken from you moments before. Taking a quick chug, you read from the card. “Sit on the lap of the person to your right for the rest of this round.” The circle buzzed with laughter, all eyes scanning between you and the person to your right — who just happened to be Matt. You turned to look at him with a nervous laugh, and his gaze caught onto yours before he offered a quick shrug. He adjusted himself on the couch, widening his legs slightly before softly patting his lap with a smile. “Hop on,” He encouraged, his tone nonchalant as though it was the most normal thing in the world for the two of you to do.

You hesitated for a brief moment, feeling the pressure of ten pairs of eyes burning into you. Matt offered you a reassuring smile and jerked his head to the side to encourage you over to him. Before you could lose your nerve, you shifted, turning to face him as you placed your hand on his shoulder for balance. He didn’t move from under your touch — just shot an exaggerated raised-brow look at Chris from over your shoulder as he leaned back to make more space for you. Your knee brushed his thigh as you straddled him — the circle erupting into obnoxious hollers once you did.

Your weight hovered over his lap, one of your hands braced on the back of the couch to keep you from making complete contact with his waist. Even still, you felt the heat radiating from his body into yours — causing an unfamiliar feeling begin to rise in your chest. As soon as your body settled, his hand moved almost instinctively to your outer thigh — settling against your bare skin without a thought. Your eyes shifted down to his face, but thankfully he was already adjusted to your new position and was back to having a conversation with the person to his right as though nothing abnormal was occurring on top of him.

The circle eased back into normal motion around you, comfortable chatter flooding your ears as you joined in on the conversation with Matt and his friend. You tried to shift subtly, your weight adjusting forward slightly to hover just enough to avoid fully sinking into him without making your awkwardness obvious. You attempted to ease your hips back, then forward again, searching for a position that felt less intimate — but it seemed useless. You risked another sideways glance, and he was still leaning back, gaze fixed on his friend as he casually maintained a lighthearted conversation while sipping his drink.

You swallowed hard, wishing you were still holding your own drink, before shifting your hips one last time — just slightly, barely more than a twitch — when his hand suddenly squeezed your thigh. Still, he said nothing; showed you nothing. But you felt the faintest pause in his breath — not enough to draw attention, but enough to make your skin hum. Enough to make you aware of the heat of his palm. You did your very best to follow suit — to laugh along with your friends and stay focused on the group — though the unfamiliar flutter of tension within you was ever-present.

“Your turn, dumb fuck.” Said Nick, his voice bellowing over everyone’s jumbled conversations as he flicked Matt in the arm. Matt’s attention was finally pulled back to the game, and with a deep inhale he shifted slightly under you, reaching for a card. His movement forced you a little closer to him — closer than you meant to be. You tried not to react beyond wrapping your arms around his neck to keep your balance, but the motion of him beneath you sparked something strange within your centre.

You craned your neck to watch him draw, brows raising when he pulled a card just like the one you had a moment before — a red card. With a sigh he pulled a card from the second deck, and when he turned it over you both seemed to read it at the same time — your bodies freezing in unison. The circle was buzzing with anticipatory silence for a moment, before Nick reached over with a huff, yanking the card from Matt’s grasp to read it for himself. After one final moment of silence, Nick’s excited shriek made your cheeks redden.

“Kiss the girl closest to your left!” He read from the card as you and Matt shot one another uncertain glances. Not only did you happen to be the only girl playing the game, but you were definitely the one closest to his left considering you were literally straddling his lap. The circle erupted. Some people broke into laughter, some gave a few cheers. One who sounded an awful lot like Chris gave a dramatic ooooh as though you were all back in high school. You scoffed, feigning near-confidence as you looked over your shoulder. “You’re a child, Chris.”

But your voice came out thinner than you had wanted it to. You felt a prickle of heat rush to your face from the sheer embarrassment of the many laughs and gazes sent your way. “Hey, rules are rules,” Chris remarked from his place across from you, “You had to sit in his lap, now he has to kiss you. Sounds like the circle of life or some shit to me.” You rolled your eyes as you turned back to face Matt, preparing another witty comeback as you did — except Matt was already looking up at you. Calm, unbothered; with that usual glint in his tipsy eyes.

“Well,” He began casually, keeping his voice low, “We should probably get it over with if we don’t want them to start chanting.” You let out a nervous laugh, feeling as though you had entered an alternate dimension over the last fifteen minutes. “God forbid,” You muttered, doing your best to control your breathing as you smiled down at him. The moment stretched for what felt like hours. You knew that everyone was still watching, and you felt crushed under the pressure combined with crippling anticipation.

You could tell that Matt was just as uncertain as you were — you could see it in the way his cheeks had turned a slightly brighter shade of pink, could feel it in the way his chest rose and fell rapidly against your own — though he seemed much more capable of maintaining his cool-guy decorum. So you sat perfectly still, waiting for him to get his dare over with as though you were just another spectator. After cracking you one final smile, he tapped your thigh softly before whispering, “Come here.”

It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t loaded. It just sounded like a simple request from one friend to another. So you didn’t hesitate before leaning down — heart nearly jumping out of your throat. When your lips eventually met his, you froze — just for a second — at the sheer newness of it. It was soft, quick, but also impossibly intimate. You were in shock from feeling Matt’s lips press delicately, cautiously against your own. But the shock quickly dissipated once you recognized that it was exactly the kind of kiss you’d give someone in response to a drinking game — a kiss by definition alone, but more like a shared breath than anything else.

He seemed to have frozen beneath you as well. His frame still. The circles he had been haphazardly drawing against your thigh coming to an abrupt stop as your closed lips pressed against his. On its face, it was an innocent kiss. One meant to last only a second or two before ending in a fit of awkward laughter between two friends who could look back on the moment in five years and think nothing of it.

But it lingered. Just for a second, but long enough for the undercurrent between you two to shift.

You finally allowed yourself to relax into his lap, no longer feeling the need to hover above him. His thumb resumed its gentle movements against your thigh, as though drawing you closer to him. You were suddenly very aware of how close you were to him, how warm he felt — and how much you liked it. The kiss was still soft, though there was a rumble of energy building between you both that was threatening to boil over.

Matt pulled back for a breath, but when you opened your eyes, he was still watching you. His expression was no longer nonchalant, no longer playful. His dilated eyes dropped to your mouth, and for a moment neither of you moved a muscle. Something was happening. You could both feel it, and you were equally powerless to it. So when he leaned back into you again, you met him with a sigh of relief.

His free hand immediately slid to your waist, pulling you in closer. His lips parted hungrily against yours, deepening the kiss with a quiet eagerness that made your whole body tremble. You responded to him without a thought; your mouth opened to mesh with his, the kiss growing deeper. You allowed yourself to melt completely into his lap, stifling a gasp at the feeling of his growing hardness already evident through his jeans. As he tilted his head to devour you completely, your hands slipped into his wavy hair — fingers threading through the base of the strands and pulling him closer to you without even realizing.

He responded by exhaling through his nose in that intoxicatingly masculine way. His hands were buried in your thighs, fingers curling greedily against the plush skin before sliding beneath the hem of your mini skirt; exploring the hidden skin before guiding your hips to roll just once against his front. The shaky breath you released from the sensation caused you to break the kiss, but he leaned forward and searched for your lips once more like he couldn’t help it.

Once his mouth engulfed yours once more, the kiss was hungrier; even more sure than before. A gasp fell from your lips as one of his hands slid up your back, pressing your chest against his so that no space remained between your needy bodies. As a breathy moan fell from your lips at the way his hand wrapped possessively around your throat, you were aware that your other friends were still watching. But, you no longer cared. As your panties flooded with moisture from the heat of his cock pressing against you, all you could think about was the delicious, dizzying satisfaction of tasting someone for the first time — someone you knew so well, but never like this.

He murmured your name against your lips, voice hoarse. You couldn’t even reply — capable of little more than to kiss him harder. Your fingers gripped his shirt as if that could ground you; as if the only thing real anymore was the way he was touching you, holding you, breathing you in possessively like he’d needed this much longer than either of you realized. You felt that need, too. Making your thoughts melt away, caring very little about anything besides the pull you knew you were both feeling. The overwhelming pull that had started as a party game dare and was now spiralling into something neither of you could stop.

After what felt like hours of bliss, the kiss broke slowly, like neither of you really wanted it to. You couldn’t help but let your lips linger against his, your breath catching when he didn’t move right away. Your faces hovered close, foreheads brushing with each needy gasp for air. His fingers still rested on your hip firmly as though he wasn’t quite ready to let you go. Neither of you spoke — you didn’t have to.

“Well that was…thorough.” Chris’s voice, laced with wavering uncertainty, could be heard from behind you. The room around you was still buzzing — cheers and laughter spewing from everyone in the circle — but it had fallen into a dull backdrop. The only thing that you were capable of hearing in that moment was your own heartbeat and the sound of Matt’s breath; still uneven against your mouth. You looked at him — into his glazed over eyes. He looked at you. And in an instant something passed between you — something wordless, something electric, something final.

Without saying anything, Matt shifted beneath you, one arm slipping under your legs and the other wrapped tightly around your back. You gasped softly as he lifted you off of the couch — his movements weren’t rough, but they were rushed and fuelled with an urgency you had never seen in him before. You didn’t question anything, didn’t say a word, even as the circle of your friends began chanting and gasping at what even they knew was about to happen. You only wrapped an arm around his tense shoulders, letting your fingers slide through his hair as he carried you through the house in the direction of his bedroom.

Your heart was really pounding now. Not from surprise but from the sudden, dizzying realization that you two were about to cross a line you had never even come close to approaching before. The faces of party-goers blurred past you in streaks as you travelled down what suddenly felt like an endless hallway, the party growing more and more silent as you approached the bedroom until the only sounds you could recognize were his steady footsteps and the soft rustle of your breath against his chest.

Once you reached his bedroom, Matt nudged the door open seamlessly with one foot; the hinges creaking faintly acting as a reminder of what’s to come. Dim light spilled only from a lamp on his bedside table, his fully drawn blinds restricting any moonlight from entering the room. He set you down with the same careful urgency he’d carried you — with his hands still holding your hips, searching eyes still fixed on yours like they were tethered. You looked up at him through your lashes, lips parted, your breath shallow, your heart beating out of your chest. Matt’s thumb brushed softly against your cheek, then traced the line of your jaw before resting gently against your throat.

Your breath was shallow, heart still rattling from the kiss that had pulled you both off the couch and into motion. The intensity of the moment suddenly crashed down on you as you let your eyes drift over his room — a room you had spent plenty of time in yet never in this way; never with this feeling of trepidation burning through your veins. You forced yourself to take in a deep, steadying breath. The air smelled faintly like him — clean laundry, cedar, something comforting and unmistakably his. It helped relax your mind, and when you turned your attention back to him, he was watching you.

Not with that unreadable ease he had worn throughout the night — but with something even quieter. More careful, and more aware. His jaw was tight, and in his eyes, that familiar calm had frayed slightly at the edges; replaced by a flicker of hesitation and a much more powerful desire. “Y/n,” He breathed out, as though your name was the only thing he was certain of in that moment. His eyes fluttered shut as he took another step towards you, and you simply swallowed, not trusting your ability to speak quite yet.

His movements were slow and deliberate, but when he reattached his hands to your waist, you melted into his touch. When he used his grip to slowly push you back until your knees hit his desk, you didn’t resist. And when his mouth attached to yours once more, you didn’t even consider pulling away. In fact, you found yourself leaning into him reverently, chasing the heat building between you two. His kiss was intoxicatingly slow, and each pass of his lips against yours lingered like he was drinking in the taste of you. But that restraint only lasted so long, because the moment you let out the faintest broken sound against his lips, something in him shifted.

His hands tightened at your waist, and like a wave crashing through you both, all of the built up tension of the night snapped into motion. There was no longer space for caution in that room, humid with lust. His mouth was suddenly hot and unrelenting against yours, but very quickly your lips fell into a rhythm that felt maddening and necessary all at once. His hands found your thighs and lifted you slightly, powerfully, to seat you on his desk without breaking the kiss. You expressed your approval by hooking your ankles around his waist to pull him closer, and he replied by kissing you harder, deeper; his hands massaging your thighs.

Your kiss had turned rushed and greedy, as though you were making up for every wasted second you had not touched one another in this way. You tugged at the collar of his shirt, drawing him impossibly closer like it was a need; like the closeness was the only thing anchoring you to the desk. He groaned into your kiss, the sound a deliciously rough vibration in your chest. He pressed himself into you, the edge of the desk digging into the back of your bare legs — but you didn’t care. You could barely feel anything beyond his hands, hot and insistent, sliding under your shirt and over the smooth expanse of your skin like he’d been dying to explore you for years.

His fingers delicately skimmed your skin, slowly at first. But then he pulled the thin fabric of your shirt up higher, over your ribs, and once you let your head fall and your back arch into his touch, he bent to kiss the strip of exposed skin just below your bra. You inhaled sharply from the contact, the feeling of his breath against your body. His hands snaked behind you to undo your bra, and once the clips were undone, he bit down gently on your ribs — not hard, just enough to make you squirm — before meeting your eyes. His pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling as if he just ran a marathon. “This is real, right?” The question fell from his lips genuinely, and you nodded, breath caught somewhere between a moan and a gasp from the sight of him looking up at you in that way, “Don’t stop.”

That was all the assurance he needed, because once the words left your mouth, he wasted no time before tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Not even a second later your bra followed, and then his hands were on you again — palming your full tits, thumbs brushing indulgently against you pebbled nipples until you arched into him in pleasure. He kissed you again, and this time it wasn’t just lips. Teeth, tongue, desperation flicked hungrily into your mouth. You pulled back, catching your breath only for a moment before dragging his shirt off with shaking hands.

Your mouth trailed down the line of his neck, biting softly at his shoulder and tasting the salt of his skin. An intoxicating hiss fell from his lips in response, and he gripped your hips even tighter than before; grinding against you until you were both groaning from the faint relief it granted. The need between you was quickly growing all-consuming and relentless. Every movement felt like it might push you over the edge, yet beneath the desperate touches and needy kisses, neither of you wanted to rush. You wanted to feel every moment of what was to come.

Your breath hitched when his fingers suddenly trailed between your legs, teasing you through the thin fabric barrier of your lace panties; slow and deliberate. He pulled your lips back into his own, swallowing your breathy moans and pants as your hips rolled against his hand; wordless and pleading. He grunted once his thumb pressed against your core — its hot and sticky wetness evident even through the fabric. “You’re soaked,” He breathed, sounding almost astonished at your body’s subconscious desire for him. You bit his lip gently in response, growing even more needy from the barely-there contact. “Then stop teasing, p-please.”

The pathetic whine in your voice must have been enough to grab his attention, because he didn’t hesitate before pressing his hand firmly against your clit, fingers working in steady, maddening circles. He pressed his forehead against yours and watched through hooded lids as you writhed under his touch. Your movements were purely instinct now, chasing the rhythm of his fingers as they flicked expertly against your bundle of nerves. Your moans were hushed but relentless, and they fell from your lips without you even realizing it.

When he finally slid your panties down and off, he buckled at the knees and followed the motion with his open mouth. As you tugged your skirt up over your waist, he kissed the inside of your thigh, then again, closer — until your breath caught completely. Your gaze had followed him down to the floor, and you watched as he spread your legs wider, encouraging each of your feet to rest on the desk so that you were fully exposed to him. Even with his eyes burning into your core, there was no insecurity, no urge to snap your legs shut and run away; there was just an intense desire for more once his blue eyes flickered up to you. And in an instant, without breaking the filthy eye contact, his swollen lips parted and he was tasting you.

You cried out — sharp, involuntary — and clutched the edge of the desk. Your thighs trembled on either side of his head as his expert tongue found the rhythm you craved. It flicked relentlessly against your swollen clit, as his mouth sucked and slurped indulgently; the audible sound of his eager movements exotic to your ears. “M-Matt,” You whined, your hips bucking from the overwhelming pressure already beginning to bottle in the pit of your stomach. The sound seemed to charge him, because with a grunt of approval he snaked a hand around your waist, pinning your hips to the desk while the other hand slid up your body — cupping your tit as his fingers toyed with your sensitive nipple.

You rolled your hips against his face, chasing a high that was fast approaching as he moaned against your clit in approval. Your fingers laced through his hair, burying his face in between your legs greedily. He caught your bundle of nerves in between his lips, giving it one last tight swirl before releasing his suction and flattening his tongue against your heat — letting you ride his face feverishly as he looked up at you through hooded lids. Your moans were growing more guttural, more raw. You didn’t care that it was too much; that neither of you had talked about this. The only thing that seemed to matter to you in that moment was the pressure building deep within you, the heat of his tongue against your writhing folds, and the desire to let go of it all.

All in an instant, you fell apart. Thighs trembling, you gave into your orgasm with his name on your lips. Every part of you began unraveling under his mouth and he groaned at the sight. Your hips bucked wildly and your legs nearly gave out. Noticing this, Matt reattached himself to your clit and helped guide you through your high, letting you feel everything all at once. “Good girl,” He breathed against your skin, his voice thick with lust and ten octaves lower than usual as he coached you through the waves of your orgasm.

Your limbs were still shaking, your breathing still ragged, when he pulled himself back to his feet and lifted you up off of the desk. You were limp in his arms, yet somehow still so alive with desire as he carried you to his bed. You landed against the sheets with a soft gasp, your skin flushed and tingling from the pleasure still radiating through you. He stood over you for just a brief moment, savouring the sight of you — tangled hair, cheeks flushed, and eyes wide with the same mix of longing and desire that mirrored his own.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering above you. His lips were glistening from your arousal, and the sight made you pull him down to you, kissing him fiercely, desperately; tasting your sweetness on his tongue as you claimed it. His touch was everywhere — your thighs, waist, the curve of your back — each movement of his fingers leaving you more and more undone. The bedsheets twisted beneath you as you shifted, your bodies fitting together with reckless precision. Your leg hitched over his hip, his lips hummed in approval.

The kiss was like a fire — rough edges and breathless sounds and the sharp sting of need radiating between you both feeding it like oxygen to a spark. Your mouths turned urgent and he kissed you deeper, his teeth ragged against yours. The room seemed to shrink around you, and all you could feel was the warmth of his mouth and the weight of his body above you. “We should stop,” Matt murmured against your lips, his words strained. “I know,” You replied in a broken whisper, but your hand was already tugging at his waistband, and his own hand came down to help you unzip his jeans.

Your hands found the heat of his cock like a moth to a flame, gasping at the weight of it against your fingers. A gruff moan fell from his lips as you gathered the bead of pre-cum at its tip, using the fluid to begin stroking his length slowly, tauntingly. “Matt,” You breathed against his lips, the tone of your voice encouragement and warning all at once. His body trembled above you, lips trailing across your face until they brushed against your ear; his breath warm and slow as he whispered, “Tell me what you want, please,”

Your breath caught at the question, at the way his voice cracked just slightly at the end like he was barely holding himself together. His restraint only made you want him more. The ache between your legs deepened. “I want you,” You whispered, threading your fingers through his hair as your other hand continued its slow, deliberate stroke, “I want you inside me. Want you to ruin me.”

His groan was low and guttural, reverberating through your chest like a struck chord. For a moment, he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes squeezed shut like he was praying for strength — or maybe forgiveness. Then he kissed you, hard. Everything moved quickly now, you both grew careless with desire. He knelt between your spread thighs, and when he hissed your name into your mouth, you felt it everywhere. Still, even in his desperation, he paused just long enough to search your eyes again. “You’re sure?” He asked, breathless. You nodded, without hesitation and instead with impatience, “Please, Matt.”

And that was it. He guided himself to your slick entrance, one hand bracing beside your head, the other guiding your leg up around his waist. The stretch of him as he pushed inside was blinding — a fullness that made you gasp and claw at his back, made your head roll into the pillows as your body adjusted — trembling. He held still once he had buried himself to the hilt inside of you, his chest pressed to yours. And in the silence that followed, you heard everything else. The sound of your own ragged breath, the pounding of your hearts, the tiny involuntary whimper that left your lips as your walls pulsed around him.

“Fuck,” He cursed, breathing for what seemed like the first time since sliding into you, “You feel — Jesus, you feel good.”

You arched into him instinctively, your hips lifting from the mattress, urging him to move. And when he finally did — slow, dragging strokes that made your eyes roll back — the room shifted around you. There was nothing but the press of his body, the glide of his cock, the sharp sounds you made as he drove into you with aching reverence.

You clung to him, nails dragging down his spine, and he gripped your thigh tighter in response — deepening the angle. The friction hit something devastating inside of you, and a sharp cry fell from your lips; your whole body bucking beneath him. “That’s it,” He whispered against your electric skin, “That’s my girl. Let me hear you.”

Your lips found his neck, biting down to muffle a moan. He was getting rougher now, more desperate. Each thrust sent ripples through your body, your thighs clenching around his hips as his name spilled from your lips again and again. And still, between the heat and sweat and desire, there was a tenderness. His thumb brushed your cheek on its way to your mouth, his lips found your forehead, your temple, your jaw — soft touches that reminded you of the person beneath all of the wanting.

Even so, that wanting remained, sharp and persistent. It pulled at you both like a tide. He stilled for a moment, breath caught on a curse, and you looked up at him — panting, eyes wide, the sudden loss of friction a jolt of cold against the heat you had built. He didn’t speak at first. Just looked at you, all wrecked and radiant. Then, ran a hand down the length of your side, slow and reverent. “Turn over,” He said, voice low and thick with lust, like gravel coated in honey, “On your knees.”

Your body moved before your mind had a chance to catch up, instinct guiding your limbs as you turned and braced yourself on your knees, back arched and chest pressed against the comforter. You felt him behind you, his weight shifting on the bed, the heat of him returning as he settled in close and slid his hands over your ass; spreading you open with a groan like he was praying at the altar of your body. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, “You’re unreal like this.”

He guided himself to you again, teasing, his tip gliding against your folds with aching precision. Your back arched in response, seeking him, wanting him back inside of you with a need so strong it bordered on desperate. “Please,” You whispered, and the word came out broken by lust.

When he finally slid back in, the angle was impossibly deeper. It made you choke on your own gasp, your arms trembling beneath you. He stilled for a moment, both of you suspended in that blinding relief, before he pulled back and set a rhythm that was measured at first, then faster, deeper — until the sound of skin filled the room, slick and obscene, loud enough for the rest of the house to surely hear.

One of his hands slid under you, cupping your tit and pulling you back into him. His other hand gripped your hip so tightly you knew it would bruise. Each sharp thrust, even deeper now, sent sparks flying behind your eyes, inside of your stomach. Your voice was reduced to breathless whines and moans that sounded less than human. And then — too suddenly — his length slipped out of you. A sharp, wet sound. The loss hit you with a startled gasp, your body clenching down on nothing from the loss of contact.

You looked back at him — dazed, needy — and he met your gaze with a crooked, breathless grin. Thick with heat and demand. “Find it,” He rasped.

It was filthy, the way you arched back further without hesitation, the way your hand slid between your legs to guide him — slick and swollen — back where you needed him. Your breath hitched when he pressed forward again, filling you inch by inch as you pushed your hips back into his. Both of you groaned at the full-body relief of re-connection.

“Good girl,” He muttered, voice unsteady as he sank back in, his hands tightening on your waist, “Now fuck yourself on me.”

Again, your body answered without deliberation. The dirty sound of wet skin against skin filled the room as your hips lifted and fell in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each movement pressing him deeper inside of you. The slick of your arousal made each glide seamless, every bounce a sharp, delicious friction that sent shivers down your spine.

Your breath hitched in ragged gasps, mixing with the low, guttural groans spilling from his lips. His fingers curled into the flesh of your hips, warm and firm, guiding your movements as waves of pleasure threatened to pull you under. Your arms threatened to give out, and almost immediately he noticed and looped one arm around your waist; holding you in place as he fucked you from behind with deliberate, punishing thrusts — each one angled to make you cry out his name.

You were so close it scared you. So close to crumbling it felt like your body would fracture from the pleasure. Caught up in all of it — the filthy sounds, the sweat-slick bodies, the way his pulsing cock hit you just right again and again — you weren’t sure you could survive it. As if reading your mind, Matt’s hips stuttered and a ragged moan fell from his lips. “Come for me again baby,” He whispered, voice gritty, “Let me feel you fall apart.”

And when you did, it was wild and helpless. A tidal wave that crashed through your body with an overwhelming force you couldn’t contain. Your walls clenched and trembled, fingers digging into the sheets as your delirious moans fell ragged from your mouth. A shudder rolled through you from your core to the tips of your toes, leaving your nerve endings raw and exposed. Your body quivered uncontrollably, alight with bright white fire, as the waves of pleasure pulsed through you like a train you had no hope of outrunning.

He straightened your limp frame, holding you close against his front. His hips rolled in frantic, desperate thrusts that kept you pinned to him; every movement sending fresh sparks of sensation racing through your overwhelmed nervous system. His moans — deep, rough, drenched in need — fell into the hollow curve of your shoulder. They vibrated against your skin and anchored you in the chaos of his impending release.

As if on cue, he moaned. “Fuck, Y/n, g—gonna cum.”

You could feel the sticky heat of him pulsing inside of you, hot pressure that spilled from him with each shuddering breath he took. His arms cinched around your waist as if by holding you tight he could somehow contain the rippling pleasure crawling down his spine. The steady rhythm of his heart thudding beneath his chest echoed through your own pounding pulse, a shared beat that held you together even as your bodies trembled with both pleasure and exhaustion.

Eventually, he slowed. His thrusts became shallow, then still, until the only movement was the heave of his chest against your back. He let out a long breath, almost a sigh, and then pressed a slow, grateful kiss to your shoulder. When he pulled out, the absence was strange. You felt empty. The room was suddenly very quiet, save for the hum of distant voices through the walls and the sound of your breaths trying to find their rhythm again.

He collapsed onto the bed with a grunt, arm flung over his face, chest rising and falling. You lay next to him in the warm hush, every inch of you tingling, your skin damp and flushed. Somewhere outside, someone laughed too loud. Music played through the walls, muffled.

“Jesus,” He muttered, arm still covering his face, “We were not quiet.”

You let out a breathless, incredulous laugh, “Yeah, I unfortunately just realized that, too.”

He turned his head, pushed his arm away to glance at you. His mouth curved, sheepish and amused in lethargy that only sex could grant. “There is no chance we can go out there and pretend this didn’t happen.” You stretched a little, the soreness delicious and immediate. “We walked out of the living room like we were about to devour each other, and then we literally did. Loudly.” You rolled onto your side to face him, “I think our friends are smart enough to put two and two together there.”

He groaned and dragged a hand down his face, though he couldn’t hide the smile of contentment. “Nick’s never gonna let me live it down. And Chris’s gonna tell me he recorded from the other side of the door or some weird shit.” You laughed, rolling your eyes at his unfortunate accuracy. “I’ll kill him.” You replied, winking to soften the words. He exhaled through a laugh, then turned toward you completely; propping himself up on one elbow. “I mean…we could go back out. Pretend we were just—”

“What?” You interrupted, “Having an aggressively emotional conversation with the door locked and the bed creaking for forty minutes?” He winced, teeth flashing. “Okay, maybe not.” You reached out, fingers brushing lightly over the flushed skin of his chest. “Honestly, I don’t really care what they think.” He blinked at you then, and something in his face shifted — less apprehensive, almost a little relieved. “Yeah,” He agreed, his voice laced with tenderness, “Me neither.”

The sound of rap music drifted in through the hallway — someone had turned the music up. Voices were growing louder, the night reaching its climax. Life kept going on, loud and hopefully oblivious, on the other side of the door. “We’ll go out in a minute,” Matt said, adjusting in the bed beside you, arm wrapping around your waist, pulling you close so that you felt his still-warm skin against yours. You didn’t answer right away. Just closed your eyes and let yourself rest there, body still humming, heart full. Unsure of what came next — but certain that you didn’t care.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

[munsonsmixtapes]

Mechanic Eddie? The reader is Eddie’s girlfriend or wife and she’s stopping by the shop cause they have lunch plans. While she’s waiting for Eddie one of the other mechanics (who Eddie cannot stand) starts hitting on her thinking she’s a customer and Eddie gets mad… 👀 and reader and Eddie don’t make it to the lunch plan cause Eddie goes feral 🤭

She’s back at it again with amazing ideas!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, creampie, cockwarming, reader gets hit on by one of Eddie’s employees

The shop is practically empty when you enter it and everyone stops to wave at you, making sure to do so since they all seem to want to kiss up to the boss’s wife to get on Eddie’s good side. And as long as you’re happy, he is. You’re the most important thing in his life so he takes your opinion very seriously. When he opened the shop, he let you pick out a lot of the decorations. And he can’t help but smile proudly when customers compliment the 50’s themed decor that was all thanks to you.

You’re so in love with each other and everyone knows it. All of his employees love you and they’re all so respectful, treating you like they do him. It also helps that you bring them sandwiches pretty much every time you come in.

Rod is the new guy who always flirts with the women who come in, even when they bring along their romantic partners and he’s one more complaint away from being fired. Three strikes and he’s out. He’s got one more left and Eddie really hopes he doesn’t blow it.

But when you show up in your short dress, that promise Rod made to Eddie about being on his best behavior goes out the window. He watches you move through the shop, handing out sandwiches and making conversation with the other employees and he has a one track mind now, completely abandoning his current task as you approach. He thinks that maybe his flirting will finally work out.

He leans against the hood of the car he’s working on, making an attempt to make you notice him and you do, making a beeline for him with your basket of sandwiches. You figure he must be the new guy Eddie’s constantly complaining about and now you’re interested to see if he’s actually as bad as your husband says because he always tends to be a bit dramatic.

You put on your bright smile and hold the basket out to Rod. He happily takes a sandwich then steps forward and makes an attempt to put on a flirty smile. Yours matches his, but he doesn’t know that you’re just trying to be nice.

“I’m y/n,” you smile, putting your hand out for him to shake and he takes it despite all of the grease on his hands. You give it a shake then quickly pull away, already feeling uncomfortable being near the man.

“Rod,” he says with a nod, stepping even closer and now you’re fearing for your safety. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

“I think maybe I should reintroduce myself again,” you reply. I’m y/n, y/n Munson, Eddie’s wife.” You hold up the hand you’ve got your ring on and Rod’s mouth falls open at the giant rock on your ring finger. The thing is so huge that he’s sure he could see it from outer space.

He doesn’t seem to care that you’re married because he’s stepping even closer, causing you to step back again and again until your back hits someone’s chest. Their hand lands on your shoulder and just from the weight of it, you just know that it’s your husband.

“That’s the final straw. I’ve given you plenty of chances to change but I haven’t seen any growth. You have made so many people uncomfortable and now you’re hitting on y/n? Get out.”

Eddie is normally very relaxed so seeing him so riled up is so different. He’s always so sweet to you so this isn’t something you see very often. But when you do…god, you’re nothing but a puddle. The way he’s so angry and on your behalf makes you feel the need to go clean yourself up, just knowing that you’re making a mess in your panties.

“What-”

“Did I stutter? Apologize to my wife and the fuck out!” Eddie’s pointing towards the door and you’re no longer scared but rather turned on by how protective Eddie is of you. You know he was wanting an excuse to fire the guy anyway, but still. He’s always quick to jump to your defense and you feel so loved because of it. He’s your hero until death do you part.

“I’m sorry,” Rod apologizes then makes a scene of leaving the shop, throwing different tools around while screaming expletives and how he’s going to sue for wrongful termination.

You laugh it off, not actually scared anymore as Eddie protectively wraps his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. Once Rod is gone, his tired screeching as he pulls out of the parking lot, everyone goes back to work and you and Eddie go to his office, business as usual. It’s just a little blip.

Once safely inside his office, you sit on his desk, admiring the photo he has of the two of you on your wedding day, sharing a kiss. He has copies of that exact photo everywhere, even keeping one in his wallet to look at when he misses you, which is anytime he’s not around you.

You spread your legs and he steps between them. You grab hold of his shirt and pull him closer, pressing your lips to his as he cages you in, pressing his hands against the desk. You both know he needs to get back to work, but the position you’re in and the need is far too strong to ignore.

You watch him slowly sink to the floor, pulling your panties down as he does and once they’re off, he sticks them in his back pocket before discarding your shoes. He then grabs hold of your thighs and pulls you closer, draping your legs over his shoulders. Your dress is pushed up as he kisses up your legs, murmuring what you just know are sweet nothings into your skin.

“Shouldn’t I be the one giving you head?” You ask and Eddie can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“But I’m not the one who looks fucking hot today so really, I’m just giving you what you rightfully deserve,” he replies, peppering your inner thigh with kisses before shoving his face into your cunt.

He’s being nothing but gentle, teasing as he goes in with his tongue, putting just a little pressure on your clit as you let out a moan, making sure to get his hair out of the way so it doesn’t interfere with his work. You move it this way and that as he gets more aggressive, biting down again and again. Both of you are grateful that he had all of that soundproof material installed for exactly this reason. Let’s just say that this isn’t the first time that you’ve been in the exact position in this exact setting…

He somehow gets you even closer, pushing his face further into your cunt as your heels dig into his back, moan after moan falling from your lips. The whole thing is making you dizzy just like usual, but this time, you’re on such a high that you feel you’re seeing stars. He’s much more aggressive, more hungry than normal, acting like he didn’t do this exact thing last night when the two of you couldn’t sleep.

You’re close, you can feel it. You’re pulling on his hair and that only encourages him, putting more into it than he ever has and as you reach your orgasm, nothing but his name falls from your lips in a loud, breathy moan which makes him hard as a rock.

He doesn’t even give you time to come down when he comes up for air. He immediately presses his lips to yours, wrapping your legs around his waist and carrying you to his chair. He sits down, letting you straddle his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

Eddie grabs hold of your hips, helping your grind against him, making him even harder as you move together. He’s bucking his own hips against yours as he moans into your mouth at the feeling. He think he’s earned a fuck after making you come like he did.

You’re unbuttoning his pants as he rolls the chair back against the wall so it’s less likely to move with your activity. His pants are somehow down in an instant and you’re rolling the condom onto him before topping him, your lips moving to his neck as you begin to ride him. Soft and slow as you kiss his neck, his hands moving up your back and curling into the fabric.

You’re moving slower than usual, not in any rush even though you’re in Eddie’s place of work. That’s not even something that’s on your mind. You’re so caught up in him and the way he makes you feel that you can’t possibly stop now, not for anything.

He’s bucking his hips against yours the best he can, watching you hover over him, showering him with compliments about how he’s your hero and how you can always count on him to save the day. He’s eating it up, both your words and the way you’re moving, wanting to take your time.

It always seems like you both are in a rush just because of how horny you are for each other, but this is different, it’s much more intimate, more loving. He wants to stay like that forever. And even when Eddie is coming, he’s still thinking about how much he doesn’t want to leave.

So you two stay like that for a while, just holding each other until it’s time to go home, your lunch plans- the entire reason you had even shown up-completely forgotten just like always. Now you suppose you just have to make it up to him by skipping straight to dessert.

[eringobragh420]

✘✘ i want it. ✘✘

➺ pairing — cm punk ‪‪♥︎‬ f!reader ➺ summary — punk and paul heyman’s daughter have a special relationship. ➺ links — one. two. ➺ words — 4.1k ➺ warnings — nsfw. age gap (she's twenty-something, he��s forty-something), daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected p in v, toxic-ish relationship, cum 18+ ➺ taglist — if you’d like to be added, please click here! 

➺ MASTERLIST

Punk feigned interest in whatever the hell Heyman was going on about, striding next to the older man across the tarmac, bound for Paul’s private jet. He was far more concerned with any other passengers who might be accompanying them to the next city, specifically Paul’s twenty-something-year-old daughter. Punk could almost feel her soft, supple, pliable body under his coarse, tattooed hands, could almost smell her sweet, hardly ridden (compared to him, and most of the women he’d slept with) pussy, almost taste that honeyed flavor on the tip of his tongue. Licking his lips, unconsciously searching for that flavor, he glanced at Paul and nodded, despite still having no idea what the man was talking about. Paul, the kind, thoughtful father had no idea the filthy things Punk had done to his only daughter and the even dirtier things he still planned on doing.

Punk allowed Paul to climb the stairs into the jet first so he could adjust the growing lump in his thin, black joggers, which would be rather noticeable very soon if he didn’t do something about it now. After modifying the position of his hardening cock, he placed his duffel bag in front of his hips just in case, and boarded the plane. He smelled her signature perfume immediately, sucking it through his nose, the sexy scent going straight to his dick, causing a twitch, and a slight shiver throughout his spine. He’d suspected she’d be here, given her tendency to travel everywhere with her father, but actually laying eyes on her still promoted a thrill surging in his veins. Especially with close proximity to the young woman’s father, who also happened to be one of his closest confidants. 

Fighting a smirk, Punk plopped into one of about half a dozen empty seats, sighing, combing his fingers through his longish hair. He glanced sideways at the heir to the Heyman empire, gaze landing on her Nike sneakers, climbing to her toned legs and spandex shorts, bare stomach, sports bra that matched the shorts, and a large button-up, long sleeve shirt covering her arms. Punk really didn’t understand the fashion choices of the current times, but he owed the person who invented leggings and their matching shorts and bras a sincere thank you. Her legs were bent, calves to her thighs, shoes on the seat, and she held her phone between her legs and her breasts, thumbs tapping away as she texted. She felt his gaze on her, however, and she turned to look at him, rolling her eyes after catching him staring, sinking further down in her seat. Punk chuckled, shaking his head, and as his eyes passed over Paul, who glanced at the girl before sitting in a chair that faced the opposite direction of Punk’s, Paul whispered an apology for his bratty daughter. Punk’s nostrils flared as he battled a full blown grin, swatting his hand一no big deal, sir. I promise I’ll teach her some manners.

The jet took off without a hitch, and the three of them settled into their typical plane activities, which mostly consisted of scrolling on their phones or, in Paul’s case, going through physical paperwork concerning this contract or that, this client or that. It didn’t matter what he was reading, just that he was. Heyman was famous for napping following the completion of one or two pages, and with the addition of the blandness of a nearly two hour flight? It was only a matter of time before Paul was snoring away.

Punk could be a patient man, but when his eyes flickered up from his phone to check on Paul’s status, finding him still awake, though his eyes were definitely becoming heavier, he switched his gaze to the girl seated in the back of the jet. Her feet were on the floor now, one shining leg crossed over the other, and Punk watched as she sat up, removing the button-up shirt. Her manicured nails crept along her full, gravity-defying breasts, slipping under the elastic band of the sports bra, and she smirked, winking, just before lifting the garment. Punk placed an elbow on the armrest, hand covering his smirking mouth, but if anyone who knew him looked closely enough, they’d realize his eyes were no longer an approachable green but a murky, predatory grey. Her tits were perfect, Punk had never seen a more picturesque set, and he was back to having to adjust himself, this time simply pulling the bottom of the hoodie he wore over his burgeoning bulge. She replaced the bra, giggling softly, tip of her finger between her teeth, and Punk’s chest ached. 

He’d never expected to feel anything more for her than a need to fuck her in every position possible, but he’d be damned if he didn’t miss the girl when she wasn’t around. That snicker, when she really got going, was akin to a symphony, while her sultry voice ripped a moan from him every time she whispered words he thought she shouldn’t know directly into his ear before nibbling on the lobe and licking the shell. She fit flawlessly under his arm on the off-chance they spent their time cuddling instead of fucking, because somehow, this girl had him wanting to snuggle. And when he inevitably woke up alone in the morning, he swapped his pillow for the one she’d been using一that goddamn scent of hers smoothly lulling him back to sleep before he had a chance to wallow in self pity or wonder if she was headed to some other man’s house after she left him and whether or not he wanted to strangle that man with his bare hands.

Paul was finally asleep, laid back in his seat, headphones on at this point. Punk stood, headed toward the back of the jet as if bound for the bathroom. He made a beeline for the pretty young thing who’d just flashed him, standing tall behind her seat while his unrefined hands slid across her shoulders. He leaned forward, his nose following the aroma of her familiar shampoo, hands gliding further south until he was clutching her breasts. Just like her body fit into his side like a universe-made puzzle piece, her tits did the same in his hands as if they, too, had been made for each other, and as he squeezed and groped, lifted and bounced, he pressed a stubbled kiss to her forehead when she leaned back to gaze adoringly up at him. Her teeth clamped on her soft bottom lip, and he grinned when her back arched off the seat. He didn’t ever remember experiencing a woman so damn responsive to him一the patience he had now had been a learned process一her hands gentle but insistent on his as he continued entertaining himself with her breasts. 

His hand slid out from under hers, scraping across a firm nipple, fingers trailing up the side of her throat until his thumb brushed her lips. Her tongue slithered along the digit, a barely audible mewl escaping her parted lips, but he sought something different. He watched her bright, glittering eyes open as he applied pressure on her bottom row of teeth, reveling in the incredible amount of trust she had in him, and she allowed him to lower her jaw. He nodded, and he had no idea how or when they’d achieved the same level of depravity, but she needed no further instruction or encouragement to stick her pretty pink tongue out, those sparkling eyes round and clearly feigning innocence. Punk leaned closer, one hand on her cheek, the other still on her breast, and he glanced up to be sure Paul hadn’t moved, finding him in the exact same position. Returning his attention to Paul’s daughter, he spit onto her awaiting tongue, watching as it slid down the already slick muscle toward her esophagus. 

“Swallow,” he whispered, thin lips grazing her forehead once more. Hand clutching his wrist, the other still atop his on her breast, she closed her mouth and obeyed, Punk gliding his hand down the side of her throat so his fingers could feel her actually swallowing what he’d given her. “I missed you,” he murmured, kissing her nose, and he tried to ignore the swelling in his chest, instead focusing his attention on the straining in his joggers, as she grinned, tight body writhing under the weight of his praise and attention. 

“I missed you, Daddy,” she faintly replied.

Punk took a deep breath through his nose, cocking his head disapprovingly. “You’re gonna call me that when he’s一” His hips ground against the back of the seat, seeking any and all friction. He hadn’t planned on doing anything during the flight … 

“Mhmmm,” she purred, nodding, and Punk would be goddamned if he didn’t absolutely fucking adore her honesty and raw enthusiasm and the fact that, not only did she not worry about any punishment he might bestow upon her, sometimes she begged for it.

“That’s not what good girls do,” Punk intimately informed her. She shook her head this time, eyes utterly wicked and inviting and so fucking stunning, never afraid to maintain eye contact for long periods of time. And if there was one thing Punk loved, it was eye contact一there he could see her obedience, and her want, and the mischief, and even the naivety of a young woman who had yet to really be exposed to the harsh realities of the world. Which was difficult when you were a millionaire and had absolutely no reason to entrench yourself in the atrocities of the real world. If anything, Punk wanted to keep her sheltered, maintain her innocence, as it were. Let him be the most nefarious thing she ever came in contact with. “But you don’t wanna be a good girl,” he went on. 

Another shake of her head. His lips drifted to hers, barely brushing them, and his eyes fluttered as her hand snaked to the back of his head, carding her fingers through his hair along the way. And son of a bitch did she fucking own him when she did that一her nails scraping along his scalp, gently tugging at his hair一and he would make sure she never, ever discovered the power she held over him in that respect. She tilted her chin, raising herself up in her chair, but Punk eluded the kiss she so desperately sought. 

“You wanna be Daddy’s bad girl tonight, don’t you?” Punk breathed. Her nod this time was frantic. “Take your shorts off. Because if you’re Daddy’s bad girl, then you shouldn’t be wearing any panties, right?”

She lifted her hips, nimbly removing her shorts, slipping them past her sneakers without one snag, and she spread her thighs as far as she was able. Punk peeked over her shoulder, sighing, finding no panties, just smooth lips, which also easily separated, and he could then see her little clit poking out, begging to be licked. He suddenly felt his age, his heart pounding at an almost painful rate, but he quickly recovered, taking a deep breath and strolling around the seat. Paul hadn’t moved, and Punk descended to his knees in front of the wiseman’s daughter. Her grin was contagious as Punk gripped her hips and yanked them closer to the edge of the seat so he could then spread her legs to his heart’s desire, which usually meant as far as she could physically handle. The saccharine scent of her pussy slapped him in the face, and his hand shot down to clutch his cock一he hadn’t prematurely come since high school and he wasn’t about to go back down that road. She was wet一from the fondling? From the spit? From calling him Daddy?一perfect一because every fucking thing about her was perfect一cunt simply weeping, and he glanced up, finding her pupils blown, jaw dropped, and her own hands were now cupping her breasts. 

“Aww, is this all for Daddy, princess?” Punk whispered, hand abandoning a leg so he could slip the tip of his index finger down her already spread folds, sliding along her swollen clit.

She nodded, sneakers in the air—Punk had a vision of Paul turning around, able to see only the Nikes above all the other seats, and it shouldn’t have made him squeeze his dick harder, but fuck all if it didn’t. “My wet pussy is always for Daddy,” she purred softly.

Punk shook his head. “Slut,” he hissed, diving face first into the cunt he literally dreamed about, even while lying next to her following a hard fucking.

She gasped, Punk’s eyes and brows rising instantly as he prepared to reprimand her for being too loud, but her hand slapped over her mouth, quickly followed by her other hand when Punk flattened his tongue and licked from her tight hole to the top of her clit. He battled with the volume of the groan which bubbled unknowingly from his chest because somehow this pussy tasted better every single time he put his mouth on it—more luscious, wetter, that much more addictive. Sucking on the soft nub, he scraped his teeth along the bundle of nerves, and her lithe body twisted not unlike a pretzel, sneaker sole landing hard against the wall beside the oval window. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Punk declared, and as he pulled away from her flooded pussy, a thin, clear string of her essence bridged the gap between his salt-and-pepper beard and her rosy clit. This had to be heaven, he thought, passing his finger through the middle of the bridge, gathering the string, before sucking the digit into his mouth. She whined, manicured nails sliding down her belly, bound for the apex of her thighs, and Punk snatched her wrist before she arrived at her destination. “You gotta be quiet, princess,” he reminded her, hardly audible, as he gradually came to his feet, positioning her hands on the backs of her knees. He glanced over his shoulder, at the same time pulling his straining cock out of his briefs and pants. Paul hadn’t moved, and maybe Punk even heard him snoring. Turning his attention back to Paul’s precious little star shine, his knees were pressed against the edge of her seat, her legs still spread indecently, which she couldn’t close now if she wanted to due to his proximity and sheer size compared to her, and her big, beautiful eyes were laser focused on his leaking cock that was mere inches from her face.

“Please, Daddy?” she whispered, licking her lips eagerly. 

“Listen,” Punk said, finger lifting her chin until her eyes reluctantly left his dick to give her attention to his mouth. “You have to be quiet. No choking, no gagging …” She pouted, the girl fucking pouted, and Punk smirked, shaking his head. Lord have mercy on his soul, but she had him finished. “Just lick it—” He pressed the wet head of his cock to her lips, and her tongue promptly slinked out of her scorching mouth, lapping up the precum from her skin and his. Punk let out a breath, one hand clamped on the seat, the other finding its way to the side of her face, thumb on her forehead, her tongue exploring as far along his cock as she was able. “—and suck it real fucking quiet, you hear me?”

She nodded, opening her lips around the head, and Punk pressed forward, somehow forbidding himself from shoving his dick directly into her throat. Her cheeks sunk as she applied just the softest pressure, crystal eyes locked on Punk’s face, because as much as she loved him in her mouth, she loved watching his reaction, and that did something to him all on its own. 

“Fuck, that’s it,” Punk sighed, surprised at the restraint in his own voice. Her tongue undulated against his cock, still gently sucking, and he started to pump. Only an inch or two, not enough to kiss the back of her throat no matter how much he wanted to. He smelled her sugary pussy on the air, and made a note in the back of his mind to try and find something to mask it after he was finished with Miss Heyman. “Daddy’s sweet girl.” She smiled around him, sucking just a little harder, though staying perfectly silent, hands still holding her legs open. He’d have to remember this position as one to use when he didn’t want her touching herself. “You wanna be bad, but you can’t help being Daddy’s good girl, can you?” Her eyes fluttered, and he felt a warm rush of air from her nose over his wet cock, and he then stole his dick from her mouth with a pop, and as much as he wanted to blame her for the lewd music, he hadn’t warned her he’d be pulling out while she was in the process of sucking. 

“Daddy,” she whined, pushing out her bottom lip, and Punk nearly fell to his knees so he could worship at the altar of her. 

“Spoiled little slut,” Punk said, backing up. She closed her legs and sat up in the chair, glaring at him because of the pet name, but also awaiting further direction. He nodded toward  a small couch on the other side of the cabin, and she understood almost immediately, standing, naked from the waist down, save for curiously sexy sneakers and the sports bra. She was also aware of their position, that there were three people in the cabin of this jet, so she laid across the couch on her back, head facing the front seats. Someone needed to keep an eye on Paul, and she certainly wanted nothing to do with this task. Punk, on the other hand, didn’t mind at all, and maybe it turned him on a little, and, as Paul’s daughter watched him, body squirming as she waited impatiently for him, wicked smirk on her lips, maybe it wasn’t such a secret. 

“Daddy, please,” she breathed, lifting the sports bra to entice him to hurry the fuck up, and Punk dropped his head back, laughing silently. Yep, she was gonna be the death of him. And he was old, so he probably wasn’t long for this world. 

“What?” Punk teased, glancing at Paul as he stroked his cock, which was now coated in his precum and her spit. He looked back at the desperate girl writhing about on the couch, his eyes darkening as he closed the space between them. 

“I need you inside me,” she murmured. “It’s been so long.”

Three days. It had been three days since he’d had her on her hands and knees on his bed, hands leaving bruises on her hips that he could easily see now, buried balls deep in the tightest pussy he’d ever had the pleasure of fucking.

He climbed onto the couch on his knees, between her open thighs, and he unzipped his hoodie, dropping it on the floor beside them. She mouthed fuck as he revealed one of his merch shirts, sleeves cut out, leaving holes big enough to show about half of his tattooed chest. She slipped her fingers inside those holes, fisting the shirt, and she yanked him down to her. Punk chuckled, she smiled as she bit her lip, but they were both short-lived when Punk’s cock slipped along her slick folds, and they both shared a gasp. 

“God, this fucking pussy,” Punk gushed into her ear, fondling a breast, and she turned her head to allow him better access. He sucked at her collar bone, biting down like a feral dog, and her hips lifted, bringing the head of his cock that much closer to her pulsing hole. “And you smell so goddamn good,” he continued, not even realizing he was speaking anymore, still rutting against her. “Christ, it has been too long.”

She giggled, a whimsical melody not unlike wind chimes, and she cupped his face, urging him to look at her. Then she did it—first she sifted one hand through one side of his hair, then the other, pure eyes locked on his sinful ones as she wrapped a leg around his waist. Punk was now under her spell. “You’re so obsessed with me, you dirty old man,” she muttered against his lips.

And the spell was broken.

Punk sat up, tilting his head, eyes slits, nostrils flared. Without warning, his hand shot up to clutch her throat, applying enough pressure to let her know he wasn’t fucking around, if the wild eyes and snarl weren’t enough. “I didn’t hear you,” he growled. “Must be my old man ears. What did you say?” She gripped his wrist with both hands. 

“I said—” she forced out, still swiveling her hips into his, her pussy desperately seeking his cock. She met his eyes defiantly. “—you’re so obsessed with me, you dirty … old … man …” He was offended by the old man, though she spoke only the truth. 

“I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, but you better fucking squash it and apologize … now,” Punk rasped. 

“Or what?” the girl challenged. 

“Or I’ll take you into the bathroom right fucking now and wash your pretty mouth out with soap,” Punk promised. “And you definitely won’t be getting this old man cock.” She wasn’t as frightened by the prospect of soap in her mouth as she was the possibility of not getting fucked, and there couldn’t possibly be two people better suited for each other than CM Punk and Paul Heyman’s daughter, he thought. “So which is it?” he pushed. “The soap and no dick? Or—” 

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she breathed. “I just like that you’re obsessed with me …” 

“And the old man?” Punk seethed.

She shrugged, still gripping his forearm as he still clutched her throat. “I like that, too,” she admitted.

Punk searched her face for a moment before crushing his lips to hers, hands grabbing at her legs, shoving them apart, Nikes flopping around, and then he rubbed the fleshy head of his cock along her clit before plunging inside her. He was able to get a hand over her mouth just as she was about to cry out. Her eyes squeezed shut, Punk pummeling her pussy, and she tried to push him away with hands on his belly as he rammed her cervix at the same time as her legs pulled him impossibly closer and somehow deeper. 

“I am obsessed with you,” Punk rumbled into her ear, using his hand over her mouth to shove her face to the side. The air was so thick it was difficult to breathe, dripping with the aroma of their intimate union. “I watch you when you don’t even know I’m there …” Her legs tightened around him, the hands on his belly now fisted in his shirt, also tugging him closer. “You like that?” he asked. She nodded, rolling her hips into his, meeting each of his slow thrusts. “You like that I have pictures on my phone of you that you don’t even know about?” She moaned into his hand, her hands releasing his shirt so she could clutch his shoulders. “And I jerk off to them every single fucking day we’re not together?”

She came apart then, entire body shuddering, cunt clamping around his cock, milking it like it always did. He pounded faster into her, harder, one hand remaining over her mouth while the other groped a breast. 

“Fuck, you dirty slut,” Punk panted. “I’m gonna come inside this pussy.” Her back bowed, her nod frantic. “Daddy knows that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Another desperate, silent affirmation. 

A few more pumps into her and a glance in Paul’s direction to find he’d changed positions, but was still asleep, and he exploded within her, lips pulling back from his teeth as his hips stuttered. He looked down at where their bodies were joined together, his cock covered in her cum, glistening in the harsh overhead lights, and he thought, no, this was heaven. Pulling out, he couldn’t help but finger her clit poking out between her spread folds, and she jumped, squeaking. When he was sure his legs could handle it, he stood and grabbed her shorts, helping her to move them past her shoes as she languidly pulled them on. 

“These are gonna be a mess in a few minutes,” Punk warned, “but I want my cum as close to your pussy as possible for as long as possible.”

She breathed an exhausted laugh, pulling her bra down over her breasts. “That’s exactly what I wanted,” she replied. “It’s also why I brought the big shirt.” Punk tucked himself away and sat on the couch, her sneakers in his lap. “So … when can we talk about how you’re basically stalking me?” she grinned.

continued in part two.

[rafesteddy]

𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂𝓼𝓬𝓾𝓻𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓫𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓼

𝙽𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚢 𝙻𝚒𝚜𝚝 | 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕧𝕖: ℝ𝕚𝕧𝕒𝕝𝕤

𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝙷𝚘𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚢!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙰𝚌𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚌𝚂𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

warnings: mean!rafe, swearing, degredation, choking, bullying (both), the reader slaps rafe twice but he likes it, kissing, fingering, unprotected p in v, rough sex, changing positions, ownership kink, fighting mid sex

📖 this was a mix of two anon asks and a third ask from @inthelibrarybtw 💋 I did put my own twist on it! Lovers -> enemies -> lovers. The reader puts academics first + Rafe puts college life and hockey first. After a rough week between the two at school, Rafe catches the reader talking with a brilliant engineering student and everything goes up in flames.

Reader’s POV:

You look around, feeling the bass from the party thump through the floorboards. The old house is hot and packed—thick with the scent of cheap beer, cologne, and hockey gear, but your friends insisted that you come and take a “study break.” After this week from hell, you weren’t gonna fight it.

Turning the corner, you step into a quieter space for fresh air; so far, so good—no sign of Rafe. You roll your eyes at the thought of your ex-boyfriend and current nightmare, who was still at the top of your shit list after the stunt he pulled on Tuesday.

You grit your teeth as your blood boils, thinking back to your presentation—the presentation— the most important assessment of the entire course. It was crucial, and that fucker knew that. You had spent weeks preparing, perfecting each slide until it was flawless, from your polished thesis statement to your hand movements. It was rehearsed masterfully.

Rafe? He stumbled in late, reeking of the drinks he had slammed the night before. He didn’t apologize… He wasn’t remorseful, just a lazy smirk plastered on his lips. He didn’t look at the notes. Not once. He winged the whole thing, and it was so evident that he was talking out of his ass.

To your horror, it worked… a part of you wanted to bomb it all, so he knew how reckless he was, playing with your future like that. The professor praised you both… Her only note was that ‘when you aren’t presenting, you should focus on what your face is doing, y/n. You seemed a little uneasy. You want to exude confidence…’

After class ended, you clawed at his shirt, dragging him into the first empty classroom you found, unleashing on him completely. And what did he do? He smiled… That motherfucker smiled the entire time.

“Relax, princess�� We nailed it,” he drawled as he thumbed through his phone, walking to the door. “Fix that face of yours. Huh? Lookin’ a little uneasy-”

”Fuck you, Rafe,” you punched out the words with your fists balled by your sides, heat pooling in your cheeks.

“M’Already late, sweetheart. If you wanna fuck me, you’re gonna have to wait…” He lets out a sleazy laugh as he turns the door handle, pushing it open, looking back at you before rolling his eyes.

“This is a big deal,” you clip, the emotion behind your words making your voice break.

He scoffs and sucks his teeth. “… You’ll live.”

And after that comment, you haven’t spoken to him since.

“Calvin?” You smile brightly as you reach the top of the stairs.

“Y/n? Hey,” he greets you sweetly, looking down at you with a bright smile. You swoon a little. It's not that he’s particularly handsome, but he’s brilliant. The highest GPA in the engineering department, a full ride to the university for academics alone, all while working as the hockey team’s student manager. “What are you doin’ here?” He flirts as he hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a half-hug. “Didn’t expect to see you out of the library.”

“I could say the same,” you smile, recalling your run-ins with him during the week, how he sweetly brought you a coffee out of nowhere on a hectic day, sharing his scone with you after you told him you hadn’t had time to eat.

Calvin is sweet, kind, thoughtful, intelligent…

Everything Rafe isn’t.

He moves a little closer, lessening the space between you. You feel chills run down your spine as he leans in to tell you something he could clearly say aloud—he just wants to get close. Your heart flutters as his hand brushes over the top of yours.

“Oh, shit…” You hear Rafe’s deep voice boom down the hall. Calvin turns toward him, his demeanor shifting in a second. “Well, look who it is.” His presence cuts through the tension brewing between you and Calvin like a knife. “This your type now?” He asks generally, looking between the both of you, purposefully trying to make you both uneasy, waiting for an answer.

“‘Course…” Calvin’s voice comes out meek, not knowing the situation between the two of you, feeling the weight of it nonetheless.

“Ain’t talkin’ to you, Shaffer. M’talkin’ to you,” he looks at you with a smirk that makes your stomach flip as he walks closer.

“Go away, Rafe,” you mumble.

Calvin glances between the two of you, clearly getting uncomfortable with Rafe’s presence as he continues to close in on you both. Calvin draws a shallow breath, the corners of his lips quivering into a submissive smile. “I… Uhh umm… I should probably—”

“Yeah, you should,” Rafe interrupts him with his eyes locked on you.

“See you tomorrow,” Calvin breathes, making Rafe’s brows tug together in confusion that Calvin’s still entertaining the thought of you in front of him.

“The fuck you are, Shaffer,” your ex lifts his voice lightly like he’s talking to a friend—his eyes cutting into Calvin like he’s looking at an enemy—making Rafe look absolutely insane... “Have a nice night,” Rafe slaps Calvin’s back as he walks past, saying goodbye, but his heavy hand causes Calvin to cower at the contact.

You shove Rafe, glaring up at him as Calvin clears the hall fast. “Are you serious right now?” You hiss.

Rafe shrugs in reply, leaning back into the wall, staring you down. “The fuck are you on about. Huh? M’Just lookin’ out for you. Shaffer couldn’t handle you. Aight?”

“Handle me?” You snap. “Handle me?” You point to your chest before walking forward, shoving your finger into his strong chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I just think you deserve better, is all.”

“Like you?” You narrow your eyes on him.

“Exactly,” he smirks, the cockiness oozing off of him.

You blurt out a laugh, throwing up your hands as you walk down the hall. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Me? I’m unbelievable. You think you’re so fuckin’ perfect. Huh?” Rafe sneers. “You used to be fun. Remember that?” He shouts behind you as he walks a little faster, trailing you close. “N’when did you get so smart anyways? Thought you were just hot, princess. Stick to that.”

You lift your hand as you reach the top of the stairs, flicking him off, not giving him the pleasure of your focus. But before you move any further, he snatches your wrist, pulling you back.

“I’ve always been smart, you fuckin’ asshole,” you shout as you fight your way out of his grasp, making him laugh.

“You know what your problem is, pretty? You’re too uptight. You always have to be in control,” he chides as he pushes your back against the wall, caging you in. “Why don’t you take that stick out of your ass. Huh? I got somethin’ that would feel a whole lot better.”

“You’re a pig.”

“You’re in college… college…” He drags out the word condescendingly. “Stop actin’ like that little incident on Tuesday was the end of the fuckin’ world. It’s not that deep. You’re actin’ psychotic.”

“Yeah? And you’re actin’ like a reckless, arrogant jerk, Rafe. What the fuck is new?” You seeth, your face just inches from him, the two of you breathing hard between jabs. “You’re insufferable,” you whisper as Rafe’s eyes lower to your lips, licking his own.

“Rich comin’ from you.”

And then, like a match striking, he kisses you. You gasp against his lips as he pushes you to the wall, stealing your breath as his tongue glides between your lips.

“This is a mistake,” you whisper between messy kisses.

“Probably,” he agrees with no effort to stop, walking with you a few steps toward his bedroom before the two of you stumble inside, tugging off clothes hurriedly.

Rafe’s teeth clash against yours; the bickering failing to stop as the two of you argue back and forth about school, expectations, each other, everything and anything as your tongue slides against his.

“You think you’re better than me,” Rafe grunts as he backs you against your door, pulling you effortlessly into his arms. “Calvin got here on academics. ‘He’s so smart, Rafe.’ Blah. Blah. Blah. We fuckin’ get it… I got here, too. He’s not the only one who earned his spot. They’re fuckin’ payin’ me to be here, princess. The hockey team ain’t shit without me.”

“I am better than you,” you shoot back, yanking him closer by his neck.

“You fuckin’ wish,” he mutters against your mouth before tugging your bottom lip between his teeth.

“I hate you,” you hiss.

“Sure you do,” he hums. SLAP. The sound of your hand cracking his cheek resounds through his room. A wicked smile spreads on Rafe’s lips, your act of violence carrying the opposite effect, leaving him craving more. “Were you gonna fuck Calvin?” He asks disgustedly.

“You’re jealous… He-”

“Ain’t me? No, he’s not,” Rafe cuts you off.

“… He’s better,” you smile viciously.

”Bull-fuckin’-shit,” he growls— his ego bruised as you strike a nerve. “I’ll show you better,” he groans as he pushes his big body against you. “You’re mine. Aight? You’re not his.”

“I’m not, Rafe. You don’t own me.”

The corners of his lips curl into a little smile. “Well, we both know that ain’t true. Is it, sweetheart?”

“You’re such a dick, Rafe,” you moan breathily as he bends down, capturing your nipple between his lips, swirling as his big hand palms the other.

“These fuckin’ tits,” he mumbles drunkenly against your chest as he continues to play. The other hand reaches down, skimming up your inner thigh. A thick finger glides through your folds, toying with your entrance. “You hate me. Huh? You sure about that?” He laughs against your hot skin as he kisses his way back to your mouth.

“You treat me like shit. You’re a fuckin’ dick. How could I not hate you, Rafe?” You whisper when he reaches your lips. “You’re a disrespectful asshole, and your only positive quality is your dick.”

He smiles against your lips—a deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “A compliment? Well, now I’ve heard it all,” he taunts before thrusting himself in fully, making you gasp.

“Fuck, Rafe,” you whimper as you take every inch.

“Mmm… Mhmm. Haven’t heard that one in a while.” Rafe draws out, thrusting rougher, making you whine as you feel him fill your pussy to the brim. He wraps his arms around your ass, picking you up again, making you fall deeper onto his length, crying in pleasure as he ruts roughly. Rafe pumps into you quickly, the sounds of your wet cunt filling the room.

He tugs you off the wall, carrying you to the bed, kissing messily before laying you on your back. Rafe grabs your thighs, yanking you to the edge. He wraps your legs around his shoulders, taking his dick in his fist again, pumping fast as he looks down at the wet mess between your thighs.

Rafe runs his long cock along the length of your soaked silt, gathering your arousal before bullying himself in nice and slow.

Your breasts bounce with each clap of your ass against his toned hips; Rafe looking down at you like he’s on cloud nine. Taking your ankles in his hands, he yanks them straight up in the air, using them as leverage to drive deeper. ”Shit, baby,” you cry, feeling the pressure of his fat cock stretching you wide.

”Baby?” He stammers as he watches you get closer and closer to the edge. “Using nicknames again... You giving in, sweetheart? Thought you were ‘smart’… look at you goin’ dumb on my dick.”

“Shut up.” SLAP. You smack him across the face again, making him growl in pleasure. Rafe reaches for your wrist, pinning them against his mattress. “You gotta stop slappin’ me, or I’m gonna fall in love with you all over again,” he smirks.

Rafe raises his arms, looping them around your body before tossing you higher on the mattress. He spreads your thighs widely, spitting on your aching clit before stuffing his throbbing cock back inside.

His body claps against yours, hand greeting your greedy pearl, rubbing small circles as your back arches off the bed. Your pussy tightens around him, causing Rafe to throw his head back in pleasure.

“Whose pussy is this?” He moans breathlessly. Your eyes roll back in your head, lip bitten as you hold back the words he’s longing to hear. ”Whose fuckin’ pussy is this?” He snarls as his large hand wraps around your throat, picking up the pace—an unrelenting tempo as you feel your pleasure near its peak.

“Fuck you,” you spit. Rafe’s hold tightens, a smile spreading on his lips as he tilts in. You can feel your pulse under his hand as your eyes flutter shut. “Yours,” you whimper against his lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl… Want me to cum in this tight cunt? Make you cum? Breed this fuckin’ pussy? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He taunts as his lips brush yours.

“Yes. M’gonna – Fuck, Rafe,” you cry.

Rafe moans your name as he floods you with his climax, panting through jagged breaths as he continues fuck into you, pushing his cum deeper until you’re coming undone. Rafe’s eyes shut heavily as he feels your body relax around him.

He wraps himself in you, nestling into the crook of your neck. The two of you reach for a breath, hearts hammering against each other.

Rafe draws back not soon after, his blue eyes flickering to yours, that same smirk setting on his kiss-bitten lips. “Still hate me?” He asks breathlessly, scooping his bangs off his sweat-glistened forehead.

“Yes,” you whisper, knowing that means nothing now. You hate him… You like him… You hate that you fuckin’ like him. “I can’t believe I’m here with you,” you mutter.

Rafe chuckles, running his hand through his messy hair again as he lounges back in bed, his cut ab muscles flexing with each deep, panting breath. “Yeah, yeah… You fuckin’ love it.”

You step away from the bed, and he reaches for you, but you dodge his advances, making him huff in frustration. “This doesn’t change shit, Rafe.”

He watches you with a smirk as you put your bra back on, stepping into your panties, his eyes shamelessly roaming your curves. “Right…”

“Right,” you mock his voice this time, giving him the finger again, and he laughs.

“Goddamn… Can you just be fuckin’ nice for a change,” he sighs as he throws his hands behind his head, his big arm muscles flexing unintentionally.

“Rich comin’ from you.”

“I’m so nice… In fact, I’ll see you at the library tomorrow. I’ll bring you that coffee thing you like-”

”Fuck no,” you cut him off as you zip up your dress. “That’s the most important test I have this week, Rafe.”

“Rafe? Well, it’s baby to you now…”

“Shut up.”

“You think I’m gonna stay at the library?” He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Some of us have practice to go to… I can’t just hang out at the library doin’ god knows what with god knows who…” He smirks.

“God knows who?” You laugh lightly, teasing him for being so transparent.

“If Calvin shows up to the library, I’m throwin’ hands, no questions asked,” Rafe mumbles as he pulls out his phone, trying his best to act unfazed at the mere mention of someone else.

“Whatever, Rafe,” you laugh as you slip on your shoes. “Think he’s still downstairs? Maybe we could finish our conversation that you ruined.”

“You wouldn’t,” he mutters as he plays with his phone, flicking his finger, but there’s still a hint of worry in his tone. You shrug your shoulder as you grab your purse, pulling open the door before shutting it behind you.

Standing there for a moment, you listen with a smile as you hear his big feet against the hardwood, moving fast, no doubt clambering for his discarded clothes.

And a moment later…

“Shit,” Rafe huffs as he opens the door, looking down at you surprised, completely caught in the act.

You rise on your tippy toes, pressing a kiss onto his pillowy lips, lingering for a moment, feeling him melt into you. You draw back slightly, and he smile against your lips.

“… you drive me insane, you know that?” He whispers the words raspy and low.

“You fuckin’ love it.”

[sometimeslwish]

Go To Town

Okay, so, I had to go hunting for this fucking audio cause this whole thing is inspired on that and I'm not me if I don't give credit where it's due. You don't have to listen to it, the similarities lie in the three minute timer and the idea to get the reader to come on the other's cock so they lose. This whole thing got started by @comatosebunny09 posts 1 and 2, literally YESTERDAY I wrote this shit down and I did it fast.

Word count: 2,142

Tags: Luke x hybrid!reader x Kieran, afab!reader, the twins are mean, it's never disclosed what type of hybrid reader is but she purrs (do with that what you will), pure smut in here, edging, pet names (baby, angel, sunshine, sweetheart, pretty girl) tail pulling, biting, kissing, p in v, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, as they say) bit of hair pulling, bit of begging. If I missed anything, lmk, I was itching to get this out.

You were not being subtle at all. Not one bit.

The clothes you wore– attracting attention in all the ways you wanted.

The way you walked– confident and relaxed, like you knew the world owed you things, like it held something that you knew was yours.

Your behavior– coy and flirty, veiled under innocence you didn't have, the curl of your tail when you walked by them, a quiet claim and invitation.

Luke and Kieran were on the palm of your hand.

You knew what you were doing with the shorts you picked. Knew what you were doing when your touches wandered enough that they wouldn't be able to ignore them. Knew what buttons to push to get what you wanted.

However, there had been one mishap you hadn't accounted for.

An interruption.

A call from Sylus, a mission for the twins.

A mission that had Luke making all kinds of crazy plans and Kieran saying no to each one.

Their resulting argument hadn't been expected but oh, did it make everything so much better.

It's how you found yourself facing Luke while Kieran fucked you from behind like he was taking out all his frustrations out on you. You're kneeling on an ottoman chair between them, completely naked while they still remain mostly clothed. Their masks were discarded somewhere between all the kissing and fingering, only their belts undone with pants low enough to free their cocks.

“Look at you, so pretty like this,” Luke whispers, leaning close enough to kiss but not to touch, as per the rules. He's not currently fucking you, so he can't touch, nothing but kisses is allowed. And even with that, he's still being a little shit and teasing you.

He giggles, actually fucking giggles when you hold onto him for dear life, a little devilish and mean sound that makes you clench around Kieran harder. He's right fucking there, right in front of you, you can see his cock leaking precum but he's giving it no attention as he watches his brother fuck you.

“Kieran, look at her, doesn't she look pretty? Wouldn't she look prettier if she came?” You whine, arching your back as Kieran grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls you back and away from his twin. His thrusts don't relent, a rule you half regret implementing.

You thought it would be less tortuous if they had to keep going, if they couldn't pause and let you catch your breath, because you knew they would drag it on for hours if you gave them the chance. But it's way worse when the high is right there and you can't reach it.

“Yeah, but she would look much prettier cumming on your cock, Lukey.” He says, right before the three minute timer goes off again and it's time for another switch. You fall onto Luke when Kieran's grip relents and he pulls out, leaving you to whine out from the sudden emptiness.

“Sh, it's okay,” He soothes, cooing softly while pulling you closer, “Come here, baby” You nuzzle his neck, he responds to your affections by kissing your temple and scratching at the spot behind your ears.

He sits on the couch and you crawl into his lap as he settles into a comfortable position. He goes in slow and takes no time to start thrusting into you, but his movements are slow and deep. He takes his time as his hands roam your body in the way they couldn't before.

“So perfect, I half regret this now,” His laugh is breathless against your chest, “if only I didn't have a bet to win, making you cum over and over like this would be so fun.” He moans, his grip on your hips is bruising, you can't wait to press the marks later.

“We should do it more often.” You feel Kieran's warmth radiating against your back, “You're so close, aren't you?” he whispers and you nod, biting your lip and leaning into him.

“I know, baby,” Luke says as he picks up the pace, looking up at you with puppy eyes, his voice is deceptively sweet “you can't cum though, you promised, remember?”

“Did not.” Kieran answers for you, his chin rests on your shoulder and you grab a hold of his hair. “So it's okay if you cum, angel, you can let go for us.” He adds with a grin. Luke’s glare is instant.

“No, you can't.” His thrust is particularly harsh and it hits right on that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. You pull Kieran's hair in response and he groans right against your ear.

“Getting payback for earlier?” He huffs out a laugh before nuzzling your cheek, “Go ahead, pull harder.”

“Fuck, so tight,” Luke whines.

“Doesn't it feel good, angel? Don't you wanna cum for me?” You nod before shaking your head. You feel dizzy as they keep pulling at you from different sides. Luke moans under you and yanks at your tail, rubbing that spot under it that never fails to make you mewl.

“Nu-uh, you have to be good, remember?” He grabs your chin and makes you look at him, you nod as best as you can with his hold still on you. “Be good for me and don't cum, you can't, not yet.”

You whimper and sob, he pulls you closer, swallowing every little sound and gasp you make. He leaves you breathless, unable to think straight or tell where up or down is. You don't even hear the timer go off again, you just let Kieran manhandle you into lying on top of Luke, your back to his chest.

He's the one to hold you open, hands under your knees that also keep you in place.

Kieran snickers as he starts fucking you. And it's almost like they never switched spots because he picks up the pace Luke has started with, “Look at her, she's so fucked out already.”

“Poor thing,” Luke's tone is mocking, fake sympathy held for you, “your legs are shaking so much too. Look at her pretty clit, Kieran, it's so cute. Don't you want someone to touch it, sunshine? Rub circles on it and make you feel good until you cum?”

You nod with a whimper, “Please, please, I wanna cum, I wanna cum, please.”

“No.” Kieran growls. “You're not cumming on my cock, you hear me? You're gonna be patient.” He leans in to whisper in your ear, voice more softer as he makes sure that Luke can't hear him over your moans and the squelch of your pussy clinging to his cock. “Just wait a little longer, I promise you'll feel good, okay?”

You sob, clinging onto his back and scratching at it. The kisses he leaves all over your face are soft, a contrast to his harsh thrusts, it somehow soothes you.

“All you have to do is grab onto his cock when the timer goes off. I'll help you get it in, then you'll get to have him come inside you as a reward, I promise.” His forehead is against yours, and he's smiling like it's your little secret to keep. “Just a little longer.”

“What are you whispering about?” Luke breaks the moment by grazing his teeth against your ear. The threat (read: promise) of a bite makes you mewl and tilt your head, exposing your neck even though you know he won't bite.

“How good it'll feel for her to come on your cock.” Your skin feels like it's on fire, it's torture to hold back, but Kieran said it would feel good, promised and he never breaks his promises. “You ready, baby?”

You frown at the question before it clicks, nodding deliriously as you reach under Luke's arms, looking for his cock. Then the timer goes off and the change happens in record speed. One second, Kieran's out, the next, he's pulling you down onto Luke's cock while you line it up to your entrance.

“Oh-ho, you little–” You yelp when his grip changes and he starts fucking into you. His cock hits deeper now, you can feel it kissing your cervix. His movements are getting a little sloppy, too, like he's trying not to cum.

“There you go, good girl.” You can barely reciprocate Kieran's kisses, your eyes rolling back with each of Luke's thrusts. “Now cum.”

“No, angel, please, hold it.” Luke begs, actually begs as his hips jack-rabbit into yours. Kieran's promise breaks you, and your head falls back as you cum around Luke's cock. You scream, vision going white and body shaking from the intensity of the orgasm. You squirt, all over Kieran and Luke, and Kieran cheers.

“Fuck— no.” Luke whines, and it only takes a few thrusts into you for him to follow along as your pussy milks his cock for all that it's worth. He cums with a groan, biting your shoulder as he does.

“Fuck yes.” Kieran laughs as he kisses your cheeks, your jaw, your temple. “You did so good, so well for me, sunshine.” He whispers sweet encouragements into your ear, keeps littering kisses all over your skin along with Luke.

“We got you, it's okay.” He brushes your hair away from your face, caresses your cheek and wipes away the drool on your chin before pecking your lips. Luke nuzzles your neck before nibbling at it softly and sucking a mark into the skin. He sighs before letting go of your legs, Kieran catches them and massages your hips.

“So…” Kieran starts once Luke's arms have settled around your waist, “I won.” He smirks, smug and proud; Luke grumbles, pouty and sulky against the crook of your nape.

“Shut up, let me enjoy this.”

You're still blinking the spots out of your sight when you catch sight of his hard cock. “Wanna make you cum too” you say, reaching for it. He intercepts your hand and kisses your knuckles.

“It's okay, sweetheart, you don't have to, you’ve already–”

“Gimmeee,” you whine, pout fully out now that you've been softened by that earthquake of an orgasm, “Don't I deserve a treat for giving you what you wanted?”

You feel Luke snickering under you, giggling as he rubs his nose against your neck. He stops snickering when you raise your legs again and hold yourself open for Kieran. You don't care about Luke slipping out, or the mess that follows after, you simply stare at his brother, who stares back with his mouth agape.

“Want it inside too.”

“Fuck.” You watch him swallow, notice the way his cock twitches.

“Kieran, if you won't, I will.” Luke warns.

“Yeah, okay, fuck– okay.” He lines himself up with a free hand resting on your thigh. Both of you moan when he slips in, and you let go of one leg to pull him in for a kiss. He moans against your lips, licking and biting them as he starts moving.

“Not gonna last long, pretty girl.”

“Don’t care, just cum in me, please, fill me up.” You answer back. Luke curses and groans from under you, and you giggle before turning your head to pull him in for a kiss.

Kieran starts moving faster, sloppier, as he fondles your breasts and marks your skin. You tangle your fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings to him in the same way he did for you. True to his word, it doesn't take him long before he's cumming inside you and adding onto the mess.

He slumps his weight over you, but not fully, mindful to not crush you as he catches his breath.

It's quiet, comfortable. You're purring while running your fingers through Kieran's hair. The quiet stays long enough that you start to feel sleepy, with their bodies pressed so close to yours.

“M’hungry.” You mumble after a while, yawning the moment you finish talking. Both of them stop leaving innocent kisses over whichever area they can reach to stare at each other. Luke makes many offers, going for food, calling the chef, Kieran's cooking. Kieran huffs but says nothing otherwise, focused on cleaning you up before he can pick you up and carry you towards the bathroom.

You want to nap with them too, both of them.

“Nap first, then food.” You say, once all three of you are clean and dressed. You pull them both toward the bed and settle right in the middle. They follow along with soft smiles.

You fall asleep the fastest, encased in their warmth, one twin on each side and limbs tangled together. They take a while to join you— a mental conversation that turns into whispers of unfinished sentences once you fall asleep and one that never gets finished as your gentle purring lulls them in turn.

The score is settled for now, you can't wait for the next time.

[thelastofme-l]

Distractions

Jesse x f!reader

Word count: 4085

Summary: You become quite the distraction for Jesse as he tries to finish his work.

18+ minors do not interact!

Warnings: P in V (unprotected), Smut, Handjob (male and female receiving), mentions of sexual themes, dry humping, fingering, grinding, role model!jesse, masturbation, no use of y/n

A/n: This was an idea I got from a request! Whoever requested it thank you for the idea!! I just sort of played with it and came up with this because I can't get over the idea of Jesse being a role model//being around little kids. Someone lock me away tbh

P.s.: Y'all I'm so scared for tonight's episode and I'm praying they go a different route with Jesse's storyline because I am not ready :(((((

Anyways, enjoy :)

The clock on the wall ticked as the afternoon passed by. The windows were open letting the spring breeze blow the pages of your book lightly as your eyes grazed over the page.

You were sprawled out on the couch, head propped against the arm rest with the book suspended in the air above you. It was a good read, something you decided to dive into on the slow days when you weren't busy around town or picking up shifts for patrol.

Luckily, the people of Jackson were able to experience a lot of slow days after being in a state of constant struggle for so long. The harsh winter months brought many unforeseen setbacks with supply shortages and attacks from infected. Needless to say, spring brought a breath of fresh air that encouraged everyone to take a step back and relax. 

Well, everyone except Jesse, who had been working harder than ever. He'd been voted into a seat on the council a few months back and was doubling down, attempting to prove himself as the youngest member. It was all he wanted; to be recognized for all of the hard work and leadership he exhibited over the years. 

He was currently sat in the dining room with the wooden table covered in maps. From where you sat you could see him through the doorway, fingers drumming against the table and a pencil in his hand.

The council had put him in charge of proposing new routes for patrolling. Unfortunately, all of the resources in the area were depleted, after years of scoping out nearby towns and neighborhoods. He'd already been completely immersed in the maps for the majority of the last two days despite your best efforts of getting him to take a break.

You sighed, turning the page as you finished yet another chapter. As much as you were enjoying the book, you were bored and severely lacking attention.

Before you could dwell on the frustrated feelings any longer, there was a sound just outside the window. Ears perking up at the unmistakable sound of giggling from the porch. You dropped the book to your chest, smiling to yourself as you heard their whispers.

When you moved to prop yourself up on the couch and peer out the plane of glass, you could see the familiar faces of the young boys who thought Jesse some sort of a superhero. They often came by on the sunny days, baseball gloves or soccer balls in hand, begging for Jesse to play with them.

As normal as Jackson made life feel, it was still an apocalypse. An apocalypse with zombie-like killing machines. Life was cruel to a lot of people before arriving in the safe haven. A lot of the kids had lost parents and family, the people that they could look up to and trust.

Jesse proudly filled in the empty spaces when he could, even if it meant playing ball between meetings or simply being a shoulder to lean on.

From the window you could see them deciding who would be the one to knock, before they delegated one of the older boys, Sam.

At the sound of the polite knock you stood from the couch, peering into the dining room briefly to see Jesse still hard at work.

"Hi boys" You smiled, as you opened the door. There was about eight of them, with Sam standing closest to the door. Sam had known Jesse the longest, being brought in as an orphan when he was around 5 years old. Luckily, there were plenty of people willing to take him in. He was adorable, even now as he grew into his looks with ginger curls and freckles speckled all over his pale skin.

"Is Jesse home?" He asked, nervously tapping his bat on the tip of his worn-out shoes.

“He is,” You glanced behind you, knowing that they couldn't see Jesse in the room toward the back of the house, "But unfortunately, he's busy right now"

A chorus of groans and whines erupted, some of the boys throwing their hands up in exasperation and moving down off the porch steps. You felt like an evil mother forbidding her son to play, except it was your boyfriend Jesse and he's twenty-six years old.

"Okay," Sam, elbowed the boy closest to him, hissing at them to stop making a scene before turning back to you with a tight-lipped smile and nod, "Sorry to bother you ma'am"

The use of the word ma'am made your head spin, suddenly making you feel like a decrepit woman.

Sam dropped his head as he left your porch and ushered the rest of the boys to follow him. The sight of them walking to the street, holding their baseball gloves and bats with sad frowns made your heart break.

"Wait," You called stepping your bare feet onto the porch and walking toward them as they turned to look at you, "I'll make sure he finishes up and meets you guys at the field in an hour"

"Really?" Sam beamed, mock swinging his bat in the air unable to contain his excitement.

"I'll make sure of it" You promised, crossing your arms over your chest as the breeze blew the bottom of your dress against your thighs.

The boys perked up, cheering and prematurely racing their way in the direction of the field.

Back in the house you moved through the kitchen, pouring a glass of water before entering the dining room where he worked.

Jesse was spinning the pencil around his finger, elbows propped up on the table as he studied the maps.

You set the glass down on the one clean spot of the table before moving to stand beside him, "The honorary members of the Jesse fan club came by"

"Huh?" He hadn't even looked from the maps as he triangulated, huffing when he messed up and had to erase the markings.

"They wanted you to come out and play baseball with them" You elaborated, watching him, big hands moving against the paper material.

"Oh, right," He sighed running a hand through his messy hair, "That's not gonna happen today"

You moved behind him, deciding you wouldn't tell him just yet that it was definitely going to happen.

"You should take a break," You slid your fingers over the plane of his back before settling on his shoulders. Jesses muscles were tight with tension, and you could feel the knots beneath his skin as you gently massaged the area, "You're so tense"

"I can't," He leaned back against the chair, rolling his neck under your touch, "The council wants to see my ideas by the end of the week"

The muscles under your touch were tightly wound cords, and as you rubbed them you could feel them begin to loosen. He let out a quiet groan as your fingers pressed into a particularly sensitive spot.

You halted your movements, sighing, "So you plan on working day and night on this?"

"Well yeah," He started, tensing up again under your touch as he leaned forward toward the table, repositioning his elbows back on the table, "—Until it's finished"

"That's not realistic" You joked, attempting to pull him toward the back of the chair again. You hated when Jesse got like this. The guy was his own worst enemy; either pushing himself too hard or stretching himself too thin.

When he didn't budge you sighed, moving to rest your chin on his shoulder. You held your hand out, pointing at the map toward the center of the surface, "What's that area there?"

"Uh—Lander" He was spinning his pencil around his finger again, feeling your breath fan against his neck as you spoke.

"How many miles?" You asked, hands coming up under his arms and fingers playing absentmindedly with the neckline of his shirt.

"About 170 miles," He explained, trying to ignore the goosebumps your touch left on his skin.

"Not too far, passes through Hoback," You hummed, eyes following the markings of his pencil, "–familiar terrain"

He smiled as he listened to you, relaxing under your weight. The two of you had quite the experience with the area, having been on countless patrols over the years.

"What do you think about this one?" He leaned forward slightly and grabbed one of the larger maps that was hiding under the piles. He held it up between his hands so you could both view it clearly, "Casper, about 300 miles"

He turned his head slightly toward you as he continued, "It's a longer trek, would take a couple of days"

You nodded, listening to him intently, holding your finger out and tracing the lines, "You have the whole route figured out, even emergency shelters and potential supply jackpots"

He nodded, looking back to the map in front of him, "Problem is it's too close to the capital and the council gets nervous about the cities"

"I think it's a great idea," You said, confidently bringing your hand back to his neckline, "Could be just what Jackson needs"

"It's not realistic" Jesse shook his head lightly, setting the map back on the table, "They'll never go for it"

"Jesse, you know what you're doing" You encouraged pressing a kiss to his cheek, "You've been on more patrols than anyone on that council, including Tommy"

Before he could continue you added, "There's a reason they put you in charge of this"

"To watch me crack under pressure?" He joked, his own hand coming up to touch yours.

"No," You whispered against his ear, pressing another kiss at the skin below, "Because they trust you"

He sighed, eyes closing briefly at the feeling of your lips before he abruptly sat up, shaking his head slightly, "I better get back to work"

"What's wrong?" You asked, stifling a laugh as the sudden motion caused you to slip from his shoulder. You stood straight watching as he picked the pencil back up, tapping it on the table.

"You're distracting" He mumbled, adjusting in the chair and not so subtly pulling at the fabric of his jeans that were starting to bunch up.

Leaving the place behind him, you moved slowly dragging your hand along the expanse of his traps before coming to stand between him and the table. In a swift move, you snatched the pencil from his fingers and sat it behind you on the table.

"Baby-" He opened his mouth to protest but stopped short as you moved to sit on his leg, your sun dress riding up on your upper thighs. You settled against him with familiar ease, sliding your hands over his chest before letting them hang on his shoulders.

"What're you doing?" He asked, voice cracking slightly as he looked up at the ceiling and pinched at the skin between his eyes, visibly bothered by the position. 

"Nothing" You whispered, taking advantage of his exposed neck as you leaned in and kissed along the skin, "What're you doing?"

"I'm trying to work" He replied in a serious tone, adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed.

"Oh don't let me bother you" You hummed, flattening your tongue against him as you found his sensitive spot just above his collar bone.

"Shit—" His mumbled, voice growling as he rolled his head to the side, "I have a deadline"

You stopped, pulling back momentarily to look at him with feigned innocence, "Oh wait, is this distracting too?"

"Very" He sighed, keeping eye contact with you as his hands made their way to the outside of your thighs.

"Oh," You nodded, hands gliding over his chest as you rolled your hips ever so slightly on his leg, "I'm sorry"

"You're such a brat" He teased knowing exactly what you were doing. He leaned back in the chair, hands still on your thighs as he watched you move against his leg. The friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your underwear was driving you crazy. When you realized he was watching you picked up the speed, moving back and forth, dragging your core against him.

"Fuck—" You breathed, crashing your lips into his trying to bite back the immense pleasure you were feeling while grinding on him. If you weren't in the current moment you would laugh at how desperate you were for him. The simple act of humping his leg nearly sending you over the edge.

He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, playing with yours as he felt you grind into him, moving in rapid jerks.

The sounds you were making mixed with the desire in his groin made him reach for the back of your other leg. In one quick motion, he had grabbed it and pulled it over him so you were flush against his lap, straddling him.

You whined at the loss of friction, frustrated that your pleasure was cut short, until you realized the new position. A giggle bubbled out of your throat, hands flush against his chest as your lips quirked into a smirk, "—I should let you get back to work"

"Yeah right," He chuckled, hands holding you in place against him. His lips finding your neck, kissing upward until he was breathing against your ear, "A quick break won't hurt"

You took his face between your hands removing him from your neck so you could kiss him properly. He complied, immediately delving into your mouth and tangling his tongue against yours.

You moaned into him as you felt his hands slide up from their position on your thighs, dipping under the dress and pushing the fabric up higher on your waist.

His lips moving against yours was desperate, fueled by an almost primal need. Your body was pressed against Jesse's, heat between you palpable. Your hands blindly reached for his belt, unhooking it with ease before fiddling with the button and zipper. He smirked against you, fingers playing with the band of your underwear.

"—Shit," He breathed, when you brought your hand to your mouth, spitting on it before shoving it pass the waistband of his jeans. You immediately felt him and wrapped your hand around his shaft, moving up and down in slow movements.

You pulled back from his mouth, looking down to watch you own hand move against him, completely turned on by the way he felt. When you leaned back into his lips you felt his calloused hand push the fabric of your underwear to the side before, he was rubbing your bare clit in slow, torturous circles.

"You're so worked up already," He breathed, mouth hanging open as he watched his fingers disappear under you, "Could've just told me you wanted me"

"—Tried," You whimpered, pressing against him impatiently as he played with you. You pressed your lips against his, hungry for him, "You just don't listen"

You both continued your assault on each other, like two teenagers thirsty for all they can get.

"You can't wait for your turn?" You teased, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers danced against your dripping core.

Even on the days where you knew he was stressed or needing extra care he would somehow flip the situation and end up between your legs, eating you out. As much as you loved it, you also wanted to be the one to pleasure him completely before moving on. But Jesse always got what he wanted.

He made a humming sound, dropping his head back again as you continued to pleasure him, "It's my favorite part"

You suddenly ceased your rubbing on his cock, leaving your hand at the top of his shaft, fingers ghosting over the tip. Not being able to focus as Jesse picked up his speed, sending your body into small shakes of pleasure. You cried out at the sensation of his rough fingers, lifting your hips as you braced your forehead against his shoulder. You could feel the pre-cum dripping from him as you bit into his collarbone through his shirt.

In a flash you were pulling your hand out of his pants and standing briefly from his lap so you could fully discard your underwear. While you were off he managed to finish pulling himself fully from the jeans.

It sprung from his boxers, glistening and slightly swollen from the excitement you had given just minutes ago.

You moved back to him quickly, straddling his legs once again and setting yourself down slowly as he guided himself into your entrance.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. His hands on your waist providing stability until he was completely engulfed inside of you.

The two of you let out a sigh in unison once he bottomed out in you. You didn't wait for him, too turned on by the way his hair was falling into his eyes as he watched where you two connected.

You rolled your hips, slow at first before picking up the speed. His hands found your hips, digging into them as he moved your body in quick jerks, assisting you what you were trying to accomplish.

You could've came at the simple sight of seeing him trying to hold himself together. You lifted yourself up, nearly completely off of him before coming down and feeling him bottoming out inside of you.

"God damn—," He breathed, as you did it again and again, moving quick as you bounced on it, "You're so good"

His hands moved their way up your dress, leaving a trail of absolute fire behind. When they were flush against the skin of your back he was pulling you into him. At the angle of your bouncing he was able to find your hard nipples. They were pebbling through the thin fabric of the sun dress.

He mouthed at you over the fabric before leaving a trail of wet kisses over your exposed chest.

He was taking control again, this time instructing you to lean back.

He stood from his chair, pushing it back with his foot as it made an ear chilling sound against the floor. He easily supported you, scooting your body onto the table until you were fully laying across the maps.

Your hand moved under your lower back to grab the pencil that was poking you and throwing it across the room. He positioned himself carefully, thumb rubbing your inner thigh as he spoke, “Are you comfortable like this?”

“Mhm” It was all you could say, not fully trusting your voice at the sudden position change. It was hot when Jesse took control in any way.

He was able to stand at full height with you lying there, still taking him. You could feel him twitch inside of you before he held your legs up and began thrusting into you. Slow at first, before picking up speed.

You thought the table might break from the way the sounds of old, creaky wood were mixing with your moans. Your hands were reaching for anything to hold onto, which happened to be the maps underneath you as you were coming closer.

"Keep going—," You cried, each thrust hitting you in the perfect spot. The sight of him plowing into you, bathed in sunlight, made you bite hard at your lip. How was he so beautiful? "I'm close—"

"Me too baby—" He rocked against you with quick rolls of his hips. Snapping into you faster and faster until you were screaming his name. You clenched around him as your warm juices coated his cock, "fuck–"

Your body twitched as you tried to catch your breath, and then Jesse was busting inside of you, the sensation making you feel hot and bothered again.

He leaned over onto the table, still inside of you and picked you up. You slapped into his chest like a bag of rocks, spent from the activity you'd just participated in.

Once he had you in his arms he was lifting you again, holding you against him as you buried your face into his neck.

His foot hooked around the previously discarded chair as he moved it back toward the table and sat down. You were back to the previous position, straddling his lap, legs hanging on either side of him.

You pulled your head back to look at him as he reached out and pushed back the hair that was sticking to your sweaty forehead. You felt the unmistakable breeze again and laughed, dropping your forehead against his, remembering that the windows had all been opened.

"Hope the neighbors weren't outside"

Jesse chuckled, low and adoringly as he nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips with his own. He kissed you slow and deliberate, drinking you in as if you were the last drop of water in a desert.

Your hands carded through his hair, before you took hold of a small handful and tugged at it. The gesture resulted in his cock twitching inside of you again. You smiled against his lips, forgetting that you were still connected, "Ready for round 2 already?"

He pulled back, licking his bottom lip as his eyes glanced down, mischievous glaze taking over, "I'm a little hungry"

"Thought you had to get back to work?" You leaned in, purposely rolling your hips on him as you bite at his bottom lip.

"I can be done for the day" He growled, suddenly pulling you flush against him and burying his face into the crook of your neck, leaving love bites. Behind you the maps were bunched up and crumbled where you moved against them.

"I like the sound of that," You whispered, feeling your wetness leaking down onto your thighs. Your hands reached for the bottom hem of his shirt, beginning to pull it up his tone body before you stopped short. Fuck. You forgot, "We should do this again, later"

"Huh?"

You carefully pulled yourself from his length and stood up. You rushed to the kitchen, grabbing a dish cloth from the drawer and coming back to stand in front of him.

You lifted your dress, cleaning yourself of all the left over liquids before tossing it onto Jesse's lap, "Clean yourself up"

He listened, collecting all the wetness before tossing the cloth onto the floor beside the chair.

"Put that away," You gestured to his dick, finding the underwear you had thrown before and sliding them up your legs, smoothing your dress back down over your thighs, "We gotta go"

"Where are we going?" Jesse asked, standing from the chair and tucking himself into his boxers and moving his jeans up before zipping them and hooking his belt. His eyes were wide and confused.

You moved to a small mirror that was hanging on the wall and fixed your hair, wiping under your eyes and cleaning up your look.

"I promised the boys you'd meet them at the fields for a game of baseball"

Jesse laughed, coming up behind you in the mirror and snaking his arms around your waist, "So this was all part of your plan? Get me distracted so I would go out there?"

"I wanted to fuck you," You admitted unabashedly, spinning around to face him once it didn't look like you'd just gotten railed on a dining room table, "So that was a plus"

"—But," You laced your arms around his neck as he stood in front of you as you continued, "Those boys looked so sad when I told them you couldn't play ball and they look up to you—"

"Oh baby," Jesse cooed at you, eyes softening as he dipped down to press a kiss to your nose, "They got you good"

"What?" You giggled, looking up at him.

"That's all part of their hustle," He chuckled, hands rubbing up and down your exposed arms, "They know if they look sad enough you'll cave"

You groaned, pressing your face into his shirt and laughing, "You're kidding me"

He shook his head, hands coming to rub at your back softly as his chest rumbled with laughter, “Oh baby–“

When you did pull back, you sighed, "Do you know they called me ma'am? Ma'am like I'm some old lady"

Jesse rolled his eyes, coming back to press a kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, "I've been trying to teach them manners, ya know, no sir and yes ma'am, respecting their elders"

Of course he was.

"Elders? I'm 25!" You smacked at his chest, feeling silly that you let the kids trick you. You kissed him, brief and gentle before you grabbed his hand and started toward the front door, "Well you can tell them that your hot, young girlfriend is not a ma'am"

"Whatever you say baby"

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Carmen Berzatto X Reader: Sweet Symphony

Warnings: smut, car sex, oral (f receiving), handjob, penetration (p in v), public sex (it happens in a parking lot so yeah i guess), no use of y/n, mutual pinning, cursing, kissing, dirty talk, female anatomy, male anatomy.

Word count: 4K (idk how that happened, i swear it's worth it 😅)

There were about a thousand other things Carmen should’ve been doing right now.  The restaurant was still made up of tarps and chunks of wood and debris. He needed to call a plumber. And an electrician. And a builder.  He needed to figure out the menu. Get the staff. Handle the permits.  There were a million other things he should be doing.

But he wasn’t.

In fact, he wasn’t anywhere near the restaurant.

Carmen currently found himself sitting in your car, parked in the middle of a near-empty lot, as you blasted the radio. You hadn’t shut up for the last thirty minutes. You couldn’t. There were too many things to say, too many thoughts to share.

And Carmen listened—not because he needed to, but because he wanted to. Because it mattered to you. 

He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up as you spoke about the music. He didn’t understand half the technical terms you used and probably never would, but that didn’t matter. He loved the way your hands moved through the air, describing a specific part of a song like you were conducting it.

He wondered if this was how people felt when he talked about cooking. Did he light up like this? Did his hands move the same way?  Did people look at him the way he was looking at you now?

Carmen had been so focused on the way you looked as you talked that he completely lost track of what you were actually saying. You noticed. You always noticed.  You snapped your fingers in front of his face to bring him back.

“Yo, Carmy? You still with me?”

“What? Yeah—sorry.”

“I’m boring you with my music talk, huh?”

“No, no—of course not. I was just—”

“Jesus, Carm. I’m joking. You’re all good.”

This happened a lot. Sometimes Carmen got too caught up in the sight of you, in his thoughts about you, that he missed whole pieces of conversation. You never seemed bothered by it. You never held it against him.

But it happened enough for you to notice—how his eyes would glaze over just slightly, or how he’d be so focused on your face that he didn’t compute a single word coming out of your mouth. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Who wouldn’t want Carmen Berzatto staring at them like they were the only person left on Earth?

“I could play at the restaurant,” you said suddenly.

You surprised him—it was obvious on his face.

“I mean, think about it. You could have live music on, I don’t know, Saturday. Then I could go, and I could play.”

“…Okay. I’d need a stage.”

“No, fuck that. I don’t need a stage to play.”

“Okay. What about payment?”

“Jesus, Carmy—way to spoil the mood.”

You were toying with him. You couldn’t help it. Carmen was an easy target. You loved seeing the way his brows crinkled when he thought he’d actually managed to piss you off. He never did. Well—maybe if he really tried, he could. But he never had. Not once. And yet every time you teased him, you still got him. Every time.

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Carmen muttered, but he was smiling when he said it.

You leaned back in your seat, kicking your feet up onto the dash like you lived in the car. Like this was your shared little world where nothing outside mattered—not the restaurant, not the bills, not the creeping anxiety that clung to Carmen like grease in his skin.

“Yeah, well,” you said, tilting your head to look at him, “you keep coming back, don’t you?”

He did keep coming back. Not because it mattered. Not because he had to. But because you were a break. A break in the constant anxiety and dread that filled him. A break from the restaurant and its never-ending chores.  A break from his mind. Here, in your car, locked away from the rest of the world, Carmen felt like he could breathe again. It didn’t matter that he didn’t understand what you were talking about half the time. The sound of your voice—the simple presence of you—managed to calm him.

So yes, he kept coming back to you.

Even if maybe there were other things he could be doing with his time.

You always made sure he had nothing left on his plate before letting him melt into your passenger seat. You didn’t let him hide here if there was something waiting to be resolved. And even when he said, “I’m good, I’m done for the day,” you still checked with Syd. Not because you didn’t trust him.  But because you didn’t want to be a burden.

You didn’t want to be the reason the restaurant fell behind.

Because as much as you selfishly adored your time with Carmen— as much as you wanted to keep him here, tucked away with you forever—you knew what the restaurant meant to him. How much it meant to be building something again. It meant something to him, which meant it meant something to you too. Because he meant something to you. 

Carmen’s eyes raked over your face before shifting to the place where your hands thrummed against your thighs. You seemed so at peace here—so angelic against the light of the setting sun. Carmen often thought that, in moments like this. But he never told you.

“You look really pretty.”

You blinked, caught off guard.

It wasn’t like Carmen to say things like that. Not to you. Not to anyone, really.

He was quiet with his feelings—kept them pressed down, folded into corners of himself he rarely let people see. And even though you were close, even though you spent hours like this—just being together—he had never said anything like that before.

Not really.

You glanced over at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, or distracted, or thinking about someone else entirely.His brow furrowed slightly, like maybe he was already regretting saying it. Like the words had slipped out before he could shove them back down.

But he didn’t take it back.

You felt your stomach twist, just a little.

“…What?” you asked, not because you didn’t hear him, but because you needed to be sure.

Carmen looked away, jaw tight. His fingers tapped lightly against his thigh—nervous, fidgeting.

“I just…” he started, then stopped. Swallowed.

“I think that sometimes. That you look… you know. Pretty.”

You stared at him for a moment, completely still. Because you’d known he liked being around you—sure. You’d known he cared. But this? This was different. 

Your heart beat louder than it should’ve.

You didn’t really know how to respond.Maybe you should thank him, but that felt too superficial, too odd considering the situation. Carmen Berzatto had just told you that he often thought you looked pretty—and that was doing something to you that you hadn’t expected it to.

You’d always had a sort of thing for him. The Berzattos were a handsome family—it was easy to fall for their looks. So yeah, when you were younger, you thought Carmen was cute. But then you started to know him. Started to hang around him. Actually became his friend.

And the thought of him being cute melted into something else.

But he had too much on his plate already, and you didn’t want to just pile on another thing for him to be worried about.

Friends don’t look at friends the way you look at Carmen.And Carmen doesn’t look at you the way he looks at his other friends—the few ones he does have.

So you let yourself sit in silence for a moment, running over a million thoughts at the speed of a second. And then, before you could chicken out,before you could convince yourself that it wasn’t worth it,you removed your feet from the dash and began to lean over the center console so you could reach him.

When your hand touched Carmen’s thigh, his head snapped up from the window to look at you. He hadn’t even realized you’d moved—not until you were practically on top of him.

And you stayed there for a second. Not moving. Not talking. Just letting your breath and his mingle.

His eyes darted from yours to your lips and you took that as your shot.You pressed a gentle kiss to him, backing away softly in an attempt to allow him to take in what had just happened.

But Carmen didn’t need to think. In fact, he’d almost shut off that part of his brain in that moment. Because if he started to think, he would chicken out. And he didn’t want to lose the opportunity you had just granted him. So before his brain could even compute it, he had dragged you onto his lap, hand settling at your waist as he kissed you again.

Carmen’s lips trailed from yours down to the hollow of your neck, soft and searching. You tilted your head, giving him better access, heart pounding in your chest like a drum. His fingers pressed firmly at your sides, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You could feel the heat radiating from him, the subtle shift in his breathing as desire laced every movement. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t urgent—it was something deeper, slower. Like discovery.

Your hands found their way up, tangling in his hair, feeling the slight roughness beneath your fingers. He responded with a low sound in his throat, pulling you into him again.

The radio hummed somewhere in the background, but it was just noise now—everything else narrowed to the warmth of his skin, the press of his body, the steady beat of your shared breaths.

Carmen’s lips left your neck to meet yours again, more demanding this time, as if he was catching up on all the things he’d been holding back. Your hands slid down, tracing the line of his shirt, feeling the strength beneath, the promise of more.

You ground your hips down onto Carmy’s, causing him to let out a low groan. You smiled against his lips, repeating the action. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the way his body pressed harder into yours, matching the rhythm you set.

And then he pulled his mouth away from yours. You wondered for a moment if he’d changed his mind. Wondered if you were going too fast for poor Carmy. But he surprised you.

“Get in the back.”

You raised your eyebrows at the sudden shift in his voice. Where had the shyness you knew so well gone? Carmen seemed to catch onto your amusement, his hands moving to caress your ass. He smiled as you gasped at his actions.

“You started it.”

“And you’re gonna finish it, Berzatto?”

Carmen smiled at you—full of mischief.

“Get in the back and you’ll find out.”

That was all you needed. You climbed over the center console, sitting in the backseat. Carmen didn’t even need to ask you to take your pants off; you were already stripping them when he managed to get to the backseat. His eyes raked over the newly exposed skin, hands moving to knead it like soft dough. 

Carmen’s hands didn’t stop kneading, their touch slow but deliberate, as you adjusted yourself into a more comfortable position. You were practically lying down in the back seat, Carmy hovering above you. The car felt smaller than it had a couple of moments ago, the air charged with a sort of unspoken need.

You let out a soft breath, your fingers trailing down his arms, feeling the strength beneath the fabric.

“Can I see you without the shirt?”

Carmen was surprised by your question. You’d been so prepared to undress yourself before him, but you worried he wouldn’t be as comfortable doing that. Instead of answering, his hands released your body for a moment, tugging his shirt off. Your palms traced his body as he leaned down to kiss your neck again.

His hands moved over your stomach, fingers skimming against the edge of your shirt. You nodded your head at him before he even asked the question, hands moving to help him peel your shirt off. When the shirt slipped over your head, Carmen’s lips met yours again, slower this time, more deliberate. His hands roamed your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, the pressure of his body pressing against yours. His fingers trailed lower, brushing over your ribs, the bare skin beneath your bra.

“Can I?” he murmured against your lips.

Your breath hitched as you nodded, lifting your arms just enough for him to slide your bra straps down your shoulders. His hands cupped your breasts gently, thumbs circling your nipples through the thin fabric. Your head lifted slightly off the seat as Carmen leaned down, taking one of your breasts into his mouth while his hand continued to caress the other.

You could already feel the wet spot forming on your underwear. Carmen wasn’t much better off—his boxers were already stained with precum, his dick twitching with every soft sound that escaped your lips. And every sound did feel like music to him, which felt appropriate, considering your profession.

His lips trailed lower, moving from your breasts to your stomach, and finally to where you needed him most. He hooked his fingers around your waistband, pausing for just a moment to meet your gaze in silent question before tugging the fabric down your legs.

The space was tight, but Carmen was determined. He managed to settle between your thighs, his face mere inches from you.

And then he leaned in.

Your body jolted at the first touch of his tongue. A soft gasp escaped you as your hand found his hair, gripping tightly as he continued working you open with slow, deliberate movements.

Carmen groaned softly against you, the sound vibrating through your core and pulling another breathy moan from your lips. He was taking his time with it, dragging his tongue through your folds, slow and focused—like he was tasting something he’d been craving for a long time.

Your thighs twitched around his shoulders, and he only pressed in deeper. One arm curled beneath your leg to keep you open for him, while the other reached up, hand sliding along your ribs until his thumb brushed over your nipple again. Every point of contact lit you up.

“Fuck, Carmen—” you breathed, voice catching as your hips rocked against his mouth.

He pulled back just enough to glance up at you, lips shiny and eyes heavy.

“Yeah?” he said, voice hoarse. “That feel good?”

The teasing lilt in his voice was new—rough and low, coaxed out by the way you fell apart for him.

You nodded, too far gone for words. Your fingers tightened in his hair as he lowered his head again, tongue circling your clit before sucking softly, rhythmically. You gasped, a sharp, broken sound that made his hips twitch beneath the denim.

You were close, and he knew it. He could feel it in the way you pulsed against his mouth, in the way your thighs tried to close around his head.

He didn’t let up. If anything, he doubled down—sucking harder, tongue flicking in just the right way, fingers now slipping lower, pressing inside you without warning.

Your back arched off the seat, a cry spilling from your mouth as the pleasure hit all at once, wave after wave rolling through you. Carmen didn’t stop until you were twitching under him, your grip in his hair loosening, chest heaving with the force of it. Only then did he lift his head, dragging his mouth across your thigh with a breathless laugh.

“Jesus,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You were far too breathless to offer a witty quip in response. So instead, you tugged him up by the chin and kissed him, messy and needy. You could taste yourself on his lips, the mixture of you and him almost intoxicating. Your tongue moved over his, hands clinging to his biceps as you tried to keep him close.

It was too much for Carmen to handle. Being this near to you, yet still not close enough, was driving him insane. And you could see it. You could feel it in the way his body trembled as he tried to hold himself up. You could feel it in the bulge straining against his jeans. With every movement of his tongue, he rocked his hips into you—his clothed dick dragging against your thigh, desperate for friction.

You shifted one of your hands from his cheek, palm trailing down his body until you reached his belt. You didn’t know how you’d managed to do it one-handed, but somehow, you got his belt off. You caressed him through his boxers, reveling in the soft moan that escaped his lips at the action.

“Someone’s excited to see me.”

Carmen couldn’t help but laugh at your words, his forehead resting against yours as you smiled. Your hand slipped beneath his boxers, soft fingers wrapping around his dick. Carmen bucked into your hand unconsciously.

“Yeah? Like that?”

He’d gone quiet all of a sudden—just nodding at your words.

“Come on, Carmy. Where’s the loudmouth I know and love?”

“Fuck you.”

You grinned. “There he is.”

You shifted your grip, fingers moving over his head as you continued your languid strokes. He kissed you again—maybe in an attempt to shut you up. Or maybe to stop himself from groaning out loud. You nipped at his lips, tugging them between your teeth.

“Wanna hear you, Carmy,” you whispered against his lips, your voice low, sultry, commanding.

Carmen groaned — this deep, wrecked sound from somewhere in his chest — and you felt his whole body shudder in response. His hands gripped your hips like he was grounding himself, but his resolve was slipping. Fast.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, almost like a prayer, breath hot against your skin.

“Haven’t even got to the best part yet.”

Your words sent a shiver of desire rushing through him. Yes, he had wanted to keep going—that’s why he’d told you to move to the backseat. But to hear you acknowledge it, to hear those suggestive words slip from your lips, ruined any self-control he had left.

Without warning, he shifted, guiding your body further down the seat. His fingers hooked around the edge of your underwear, tugging them fully off this time and tossing them somewhere behind him. His hands spread over your thighs, pushing them open as he settled between them, his gaze trailing down your body like he was memorizing it.

“You still sure?” he asked, voice rasped and a little wrecked.

You nodded–breathless, aching. “Yeah. Fuck, Carmy—please.”

He lined himself up, pressing the thick head of his cock against you, teasing you with just the tip. He watched the way your body reacted — how your hips lifted toward him, how your breath hitched — and he swore under his breath. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he murmured, and then he pushed in slow, deep, agonizingly, deliberately.

Your head fell back with a gasp, hands gripping his shoulders as he sank into you inch by inch, filling you completely. The car felt even smaller now, the heat between you overwhelming.

Carmen stilled when he was fully inside, trying to catch his breath, to keep from coming right there.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your neck. “Fuck, you’re warm. Oh god.”

“Carmy,” you whined, biting your lip as you tried to adjust to his size.

He growled — actually growled — and pulled back before thrusting into you again, harder this time. You moaned, nails digging into his skin.

The rhythm started slow, deep, grinding — like he wanted to savor every second — but it didn’t take long before it grew messier, more desperate. You wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer, to let him hit deeper. He bit into your shoulder, hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that had you both panting.

“You feel so good,” he groaned. “Fuck—just—so good.”

Your lips brushed his ear as you whispered, “Don’t stop, Carmy.”

Carmen’s hands gripped your hips tightly, fingers digging in just enough to remind you he was there—anchoring you even as his movements became more urgent, more desperate. Each thrust hit deeper, sending sparks of pleasure bursting through every nerve ending.

Your breath hitched with every collision, a mix of gasps and moans tumbling from your lips, the confined space of the car amplifying every sound. The way he moved—rough yet careful—made you feel cherished and possessed all at once.

He kissed down your jaw, teeth grazing your skin, leaving a trail of fire. Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as your bodies moved in perfect, heated sync.

You were going to come. You could feel the coil tightening with every thrust. And when Carmen started mumbling words of praise against your neck, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

You met his gaze, eyes shimmering with need and something softer—trust, desire, something unspoken that hovered between you.

“Carmy,” you breathed, fingers tracing the line of his jaw, “I want you to come with me.”

His pace faltered for just a moment, but then he nodded, lips brushing against yours in a promise.

The sun was long gone; the only light illuminating the car was a crappy one from the parking lot. You were sure anyone who passed by could tell what was happening inside. With how rough Carmen was moving, you’d be surprised if your beat-up car wasn’t rocking along with the rhythm. But you couldn’t care less. Let them see. Let them watch the show.

The tension coiled tighter, muscles burning, heart pounding. Your world narrowed down to the feel of him, the sound of your joined breaths, the heat that bound you both.

And then, with a shuddering groan, Carmen tipped over the edge, his body trembling as he spilled inside you, every inch of him alive with release.

You clung to him, riding out the waves of your own climax as the world outside faded away.

For a long moment, you just held each other—breathless, tangled, the world outside reduced to distant noise. Your eyes were glued to the ceiling of the car as you tried to catch your breath. You could feel the warmth that still radiated from Carmen's body beside you. Could feel the scratch of his jeans against your bare legs as he shifted into a more comfortable position. 

Carmen rested his forehead against yours, voice thick with exhaustion and something softer. “You okay?”

You nodded, fingers tracing lazy patterns across his sweat-dampened skin. “Better than okay.”

A tired smile tugged at his lips. “Damn, you’re something else.”

You laughed softly, the sound warm and genuine. “So are you.”

Neither of you spoke for a while, just breathing in the closeness, the newness of what had shifted between you.He smiled, a slow, genuine smile that made your heart twist. 

“I don’t want this to end.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the honesty.

“Stay over,” he said quietly, his voice almost a plea. “Sleep in my apartment tonight. Let me wake up to the sight of you in the morning.”

The smile that broke onto your face could have replaced the sun. You tugged him into a soft kiss.

“Okay… but you’re driving.”

His brows lifted in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“I can’t feel my legs,” you teased, nudging him gently.

Carmen laughed—a low, warm sound—as he shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you. “Alright, alright. I got you.”

After you both got dressed and Carmen settled into the driver’s seat, you made your way to his apartment. You watched the city pass by as you drove, Carmen’s hand resting on your thigh—a soft reminder of what had happened. A silent promise of more to come.

[4milly]

Hi baby! I loveee your writing! I saw you asked for ideas. Can you do inexperienced reader and Roman teaching her how to take the d?

nice & slow — r.r +millytober+

parings: roman reigns x early 20s black!reader

kink: inexperienced kink. (?)

—

warnings: p in v, unprotected sex, inexperienced ≠ virgin, crying, roman being gentle, pet names (18+ MDNI)

“you ready, baby girl?”

your body shuddered under him. your hands clasped together above your head, making sure he had full view of your face— currently filled with fear.

you weren’t the most experienced with sex. with only two previous sexual partners ruining it for everyone. only fucking until they got theirs and leaving you empty handed. you thought, if this is what sex was? you wanted no parts. you wanted to feel good too, and when roman learned your wish, he made it his goal to show you.

you were in your early 20s and the man being near 40; he was so much more experienced than you knew. he’d fuck plenty of pussy before, had numerous adventures with them, even flew a few out for a good time with their homegirls.

but none met more to him right now than you.

“i—i’m nervous, ro.” you squeaked out in a small voice staring into his eyes, adorned with passion “i know it’ll feel good, but you’re just so b—“

“we’re gonna go real gentle, with you alright? you gotta stay with me. m’kay, baby girl?”

you nodded, as he rubbed his dick through your crying folds. the fat mushroomed tip rubbing against your clit. you jolt at the contact and let out a small moan. roman, by any chance wasn’t small—his long, thick, dick splitting your opening wide instantly. he grunted and continued to push; you clamped down onto him as tears prickled your eyes. luckily, he stops once he’s halfway inside, allowing you to prepare yourself for the rest of the length.

he leaned down to kiss away your tears, “lift your legs around my waist, there you go…good girl. open up for me.”

he grunted and pushed through, stretching you open bit by bit; making you gasp at each sudden movement. he wiggled his hips around, helping you get used to his size and pressing further into you. his tip inches away from bottoming out.

“look at you, baby. so fuckin’ pretty & perfect. you can take it, can’t you? my baby can take it.”

he whispered into your ear, before taking the lobe into his mouth. he began to slowly fuck into you. your pussy tightly clamping around his dick and leaking onto the bed sheets. roman could feel your pussy start to mold to his dick, almost like a blanket tightly wrapped around a body.

you let out a whine as you locked your legs around his lower back to signal him that you were ready for more. tears formed in your eyes for a different reason now.

“fuckk, ro—please, fuck me.” you whimpered out thrusting your hips to completely impale yourself onto his dick.

he let out a laugh before letting go of your hands and moving them under your ass to pull your lower body closer, “don’t hold your breath, hike your knees up a bit…push your hips towards mines.” he coached your every move, determined to make this everything you wanted.

his pace quicken, his dick pumping you full force causing your boobs to bounce. his eyes firmly planted on them, before taking one in his mouth.

he pressed his dick deeper inside you, as he felt himself twitch as you fluttered around him. your pussy was warm; it felt like heaven to be inside of. he was nearly losing his mind at the sight of your fucked out face looking at him with such satisfaction. the more he coached you through the experience, the more he wanted to see how far he could go.

you trusted him with your pleasure, a gift he’d treasure forever.

“ughn! right there, please don’t stop, roman! ohh god!” you moaned out into his ear, the sound of your toes popping sounding like firecrackers in the room

“you feel so fuckin’ good, baby. i love this pussy. i’m not stopping till you cum on it. my girl wanna cum? hm?”

unable to form another sentence, you just nodded turning your head into the pillow and feeding it your loud moans, as he roughly fucked. the bed began to hardly knock against the wall as his thrust becoming deeper and harder; the bed springs squeaking beneath you.

you slipped your hand between your bodies to rub at your clit harshly, and it only takes a few touches to have you cumming around him. your ear immediately going deaf at the force from it and your eyes rolling into your head. you squeezed his dick, causing him to growl and your loud cries to fill the room.

“let it out, sweetheart. you did so good, for me. bring your knees to your chest baby, atta girl.” you bring your legs firmly together raising them to your chest, “good girl…keep cummin’ for me, pretty girl. get it all out. that feel good?”

his hips snapped against your ass to chase his own orgasm. with a few more sharp thrust his cum shot out in thick pools into you.

“r—roman. i feel like im gonna p—“ you hiccuped as the sensation triggered you to squirt over his dick, bringing you to your 2nd orgasm of the night.

the sight was mesmerizing; his chest harshly heaving up and down, his head thrown back, and his dick plugging his cum into you making sure nothing spills out.

“you did so good, baby girl. c’mere.” he spread your legs apart leaning down to embrace you into a bear hug and rain kisses across your face

you slipped your tongue into his mouth, hoping you convey how grateful you are for him.

🏷️: @msbigredmachine @harmshake @cyberdejos2 @caramelcleopatraa @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @queeny23

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[yzzart]

"𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞."

pairing: peacekeeper!Coriolanus x reader.

word count: 2.411!

summary: you would never think you would be brought to a filthy place by Coriolanus.

warnings: +18!, p in v, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, mention of blood, possessiveness, pet names, dirty talk, explicit words, explicit content.

Lucy Gray's enthusiastic voice, used to captivating and enchanting the attention of anyone in the surroundings, was completely muffled and a little inaudible, but impossible to be silenced; the lyrics, which told stories she lived and told, remained understandable. — They were always understandable and manifested.

So, like the citizens, workers and survivors of District 12 who were present in the environment and sang, danced and got in sync with the girl. — Some were drinking, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere, without worrying about their lives and listening to singing.

Perhaps, you would be included at some table, drinking, or not, trying to put something reasonable in your unbearable mind or letting your pride, your envy for, respectively, the winner of district 12 and sing along with her. — And then forget what happened the next day.

Well, that is if Coriolanus hadn't dragged your hand and taken you to an empty, dirty and, terribly, poorly lit corridor with such an inappropriate and filthy intention. — Dirtier than that environment.

"Look at you." — His voice mixed in the song and against its pure poison, the one you were used to delighting in, and a false softness; pretending to care about your sly whining. — "Such a dirty girl, huh?" — A question you wouldn't dare answer, you wouldn't give him that taste.

You knew, he knew, that he was right. — Coriolanus was never wrong; not even when he wanted to be. — The delightful situation you allowed yourself to commit to was indecent, unworthy; risking all the good and distinguished manners he learned at home in the Capital. — And something that, clearly, your parents would be disappointed in their naive daughter.

Coriolanus held and pressed your delicate, vulnerable body on his lap, pinning your back to the old-fashioned, rusty, unfamiliar wall and imposing your legs around his waist. — With the peculiar fact that his cock is buried and so concentrated in your pussy; warming and enveloping him insanely. — The feeling of his clothing fabric caused distress and burned your skin a little, it didn't bother you at all. — His hands grabbed your thighs with determination, forcing, in the future, marks from his fingers in the region.

The young and current peacekeeper was marking every part of your body; even those spots that were not visible and so hidden with clothes.

But who are you kidding when it's a guy you sacrificed your exquisite life for? Even with him severely violating the rules imposed in the game and knowing the risks involved, what would he, in fact, lose in his life. — A proof of love like this was not seen or witnessed in times like these. — And you did it for Coriolanus.

Your conscience was against the fallacies uttered from the melancholic and questioning lips of your parents, who did not assimilate the reason for your decision and request to be transported to where Coriolanus was destined. — They denied it, at first, but they agreed in distress and begged for you to be okay; and even bribing some captain to pay attention and protection to you. — Honestly, you didn't need a miserable captain because you knew who you could count on and who could protect you.

These were the words of Coriolanus, upon learning the story, your first report and confession upon meeting him. — God, you remember every word.

"Did a bird bite your tongue out, my dear?" — He gasped against your sweaty and nibbled neck, and that, for sure, in the next few hours marks would appear on your sensitive area and you didn't know how you were going to hide them. — "Tell me, hm?" — Coriolanus, not satisfied with the previous and present marks, left a long and intense suck and lick on the marked spot.

"Coryo…" — You moaned in a drawn out, almost silent way, running one of your hands through his rough, cut hair; you missed your beautiful and soft curls, that change was terrible and so painful for your eyes. — "Can anyone…" — Taking a deep breath, you tried to find words. — "…appear here."

And you were right, at least there was a reasonable streak of awareness in your mind. — Coriolanus didn't matter, he didn't care, and he wouldn't listen to his words; This was, incredibly, unbearable.

It was a corridor that led to some rooms and, probably, small and mediocre rooms that held drinks and small, ordinary portions of food; therefore, someone could pass by there. — A drunk, a person looking for a calmer environment, a peacemaker or even sweet Lucy Gray looking for you. — Anyone could conceptualize that moment.

"Oh, but it would be quite a spectacle, wouldn't it?" — Coriolanus deepened, even more, his body against your; causing a more sudden and surprising contact of his cock against your pussy. — You two moaned together. — "And deep down in that silly little head of yours, you'd love it." — He took a deep breath, licking the bite he left on his neck. — "I know that, my dear."

Coriolanus deeply hated the attempt to be deceived; the dishonest and undignified way people believe they could lie to him or at least hide what is truly going on in their skin. — He committed such an act, it became too ironic for his tongue. — Snow felt disgusted.

However, he found your attempt to pretend to believe in a certain concern funny; he was delightful, exciting.

Coriolanus's reddened lips, mixed with the taste of your sweat, distributed wet and quick kisses to your lips, which were nibbled and had some rather discreet marks of blood; if he weren't so busy, your lover would scold you for hurting your bold and beautiful mouth. — Before deepening a contact between your lips, Coriolanus curved a sharp smile, as evil as his true thoughts, and releasing a brief laugh that vibrated his chest.

Coriolanus had you in the palm of his hand.

Wasting no time, Coriolanus joined your lips against his, crushing and sucking them; forming such an obscene and inappropriate kiss accompanied by wet noises and whimpers. — Coriolanus's poisonous tongue moved, abruptly and rudely, through your mouth, as if he didn't know it, and fought for space, a domination that had no conditions to exist. — There were quick and anxious contacts between teeth, but nothing that could interrupt you.

Your hand remained in his coarse hair, while the other rested on his clothed shoulder. — You wanted, more than anything, to mark that arrogant man; and you wanted until the end to be able to leave at least a simple scratch.

When disconnecting his lips from yours, Coriolanus runs his teeth across your lower lip, biting and pulling, not exaggeratedly, at it. — Your mouth is shining, his too, from the mixing and distribution of saliva. — And the deep, vigorous, petulant blue eyes of Coriolanus looked at them with insatiable desire; as if he truly wanted to devour them. — As if a serpent saw its fragile and naive prey.

That man, for whom you would destroy your life for, was the very plumbing and aspect of one of the worst things that world could fear and observe. — And Coriolanus will do everything to ensure that your exquisite presence is at his side.

"When i'm done…" — Coriolanus cursed, shaking his head, moving his hips and returning to continuing the slow, silent thrusts. — "…when i'm fucking done with all this shit." — He tried to form a concrete sentence, finding words, but not using them in an appropriate and understandable way. — "I will make you the first lady of Panem."

Coriolanus groaned, so loud and noisy, and without any kind of shame; feeling your greedy and delicious pussy squeeze his cock with pleasure, even in a somewhat compromising position. — His voice sounded so vulnerable, a little miserable, and feeling corrupted by the spasms you attributed to him. — For the satisfaction you gave with this, in the future, title.

A title so promising, prestigious and respectable that it would quickly become his alone; fitting your name, as if it were created just for you. — Perfect.

"My first lady." — Another thrust, this time, deep and sudden; you felt, insanely, the veins and pulsations of Coriolanus's cock, you felt him completely. — "Just mine." — Your lover's possessiveness exclaimed in your ears, releasing whimpers and moans so needy and tremulous from your lips.

The noise of clothes clashing with little noise between the movements of Coriolanus's hips against your didn't bother either of your, just a mediocre desire to feel your flesh struggle against each other, freely. — Oh, but this wish can still be fulfilled during the late night or early morning. — Your body was so pressed, dominated by the young peacekeeper; your needy little hole was crushing against his dick.

You were accepting of him so well, you always did. — Coriolanus did not hold back or hide his groans and grunts, and your name was hummed from his lips like a snowflake at his introduction; even he couldn't contain himself and it was, ridiculously, contradictory. — He felt sensitive, completely, enchanted by you, even though he didn't believe in such beliefs.

"Coryo…" — Your lips were half-open, so red and irresistible, it seemed like they had the intention and objective of driving that young man crazy, calling out his name. — "My love…" — Your head was dizzy, a pure mess.

Normally, Snow felt a deep, burning and bitter disgust at hearing those last words coming from other people's lips; hard to disbelieve that it was worth listening to or being called that way. — So much affection, passion and destruction at the same time. — But, hearing and witnessing your genuine and admirable voice calling him that? In such an erotic, promiscuous and libertine tone. — Coriolanus mentally desired more; like always.

A trembling sensation, almost a contraction in your stomach accompanied by a somewhat bearable and pleasurable tingling began to form; and your lungs found it difficult to breathe, turning you into a panting mess. — And your eyes, completely, heavy and almost closing.

Coriolanus recognized this. — First than you.

"Coryo, i…" — You paused, trying to breathe. — "…i'm so close." — It was stupid to warn him, or guide him, about this because that damned young man knew it; and he knew your body better than you did.

Coriolanus didn't utter a word, and preferred to remain still trapped and focused on you, feeling you. — The blue eyes contemplated your image, which remained majestic even in such an impure situation; wanting to engrave it in his mind forever. — Soon, he sank your lips in a wet and captivating kiss against his, swallowing your loud moans; this time, Coriolanus kissed gently, a little gentle with a touch of fervor.

The peacekeeper pressed your body even more against the wall, squeezing your thighs tighter, as if he was looking for firmer support; Coriolanus was also close to cumming. — The thrusts became more sloppy and dedicated to releasing your orgasm and you moaned uncontrollably against the man's lips. — No one cared anymore about the fact that someone appeared in the region. — Your body burned, and it wasn't just from the unmistakable and unbearable heat.

Your walls spasmed through your body and pulsed against Coriolanus' cock, and the feeling of relief formed in your stomach; the feeling of liberation. — Your eyes closed, tightly and forcefully, along with a small crushed scream that was released through your lips; you reached your peak, cumming on Coriolanus's cock. — Giving yourself completely to him; reveling in your pleasure and passion for Snow.

You would be the death of him, and at risk, Coriolanus would never admit it out loud, never could confess; but, he was sure that you were the point of his weakness, of his instability. — Coriolanus would risk arresting, preserving you so that nothing wrong could happen to you and, above all, to him. — And when he admires your pleasure dripping down his mediocre pants, that the only thing that came out of your mouth was his name, Coriolanus feels his blood heat, somewhat ironically.

He feels like he's in a place he's never been, never had the opportunity to be; if it was paradise, then you were his. — The only one that mattered. — Coriolanus' mind begins to weaken and weigh down, feeling increasingly tired; wanting to bury himself deeper into your pussy.

Feeling your fingers on the back of his neck, you lightly run your nails over the area covered in sweat and hot, bringing a shiver to the young man's body. — Your still dazed and confused eyes watched Coriolanus swallow hard, so tense and almost collapsing. — Soon, falling apart inside you.

Your walls were filled with Coriolanus' warm seeds, such a pleasant sensation, feeling so full and yet so safe in his arms. — Making you actually forget where you were. — And you choke when you feel another movement of Coriolanus's hips, he was pushing his cum into you even more.

The young peacekeeper still felt tense, basking in you, and not wanting to leave the position he was in; still, completely, grabbed and pressed against your body. — Feeling the spasms of your body that gave him.

"Your first lady?" — You whispered, a little breathless but regaining normality in your breathing, still so tired as you ran a hand over Coriolanus's red and bright face. — He grunted, sucking his teeth and swallowing once again.

"My first lady." — He confirmed, determined, with his deep and still rough voice, trying to compose himself and pretend a completely non-existent naturalness and that at some point, during dawn, he will have to return to his filthy and reckless work.

The music continued, but the voice was unfamiliar and a little out of tune and the instrumentals were much noisier and out of control. — Lucy Gray ended her performance, it seemed, and gave entrance to another voice; perhaps, it was someone from the Covey singing in her place for a short period of time. — Sometimes they did that. — It wasn't strange, however, the house was full and so welcoming and she was a special attraction; the only.

Something wasn't right, or it was just an intrusive thought wanting to run through your heavy head. — Where had that girl gone, then?

Until, at a certain and coincidental moment, footsteps were made and echoed through the corridor, causing an unconditional and alarming noise from the shoes; which, in fact, were heels, probably worn out and so well used. — Everything indicated that the person had left, leaving the place but with witnesses of her shoes. — And this caused an acceleration in your heartbeat.

Perhaps, that would have answered your question.

[paperclip-skz]

Overheard

fem*Reader x Hyunjin

*WARNING*

contains: p n v, sex, unprotected sex, kissing, second hand embarrassment, "caught", not proof read, I'm sure I missed something; let me know in the comments.

WC: 2.6k

*****

“Yeah, yeah, I just got home, " you say as you close the door to your friend's apartment. You didn’t tell him you were coming over, but he wouldn’t have given you a key to his home if he didn’t want you showing up unannounced. If that's not the case, then it's really on him. 

You told your friend you were headed home, but you didn't want to go home. Home is empty and cold, but Hyunjin’s home is warm and cozy, not yours, so you decide to go to his instead. It's perfectly normal for you to sleep over at his house; you two have been friends for years, and you're both completely comfortable with each other; it's totally not related to the massive crush you secretly have on him… yeah, that has nothing to do with anything. 

“Oh. My. God. No. Way.” you dramatically roll your eyes as your friend nags you about the latest drama in your friend group. You cared about your friends, of course you did, but at the moment, you couldn’t care less about what was happening in other people's lives. All you wanted to do was to relax and watch bad TV in your best friend's arms on the couch, with a nice cup of tea and a warm blanket.

You kick your heels off by the door and drag yourself to the couch, where you lay your bag. 

Hyunjin is utterly unaware of your presence in his apartment. He gave you that key because he knows you and always wants you around, but usually, he would hear something, either the door opening and closing, announcing your arrival, or maybe a dramatic groan from you, a groan he would laugh at, a groan he secretly loved. 

But this time, he didn’t hear anything; as far as he knew, he was utterly alone in the apartment. So, he stepped out of the shower with a towel loosely wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his long hair. He went to the kitchen to grab the cup of tea he had prepared before showering.

He still didn’t notice your presence even when he entered the shared kitchen/ living room, the living room you were currently in, sitting on the couch….eyes popping out of your skull. 

You stopped talking to your friend way before Hyunjin walked into the room practically naked. Sure, you'd steal a glance every now and again when he lifted his shirt, but you’ve never seen him shirtless. You're basically foaming at the mouth, staring at his back as he stirs his little cup of tea. 

As you watch him, you swallow thickly; you can't help but notice the intricate movements of his muscles as they subtly contract and relax. The fabric around his waist drapes casually, emphasizing the contours of his body. With each strand of hair that cascades across his face, you feel an overwhelming impulse to delicately brush it away.

Suddenly, Hyunjin felt a thickness in the room and a slight shuffle. He turned around, holding the counter tightly behind him. Once your eyes connected with his, they bulged in surprise. “Y/N! What are you doing here?” His voice came out in an awkward high pitch, which would have made you laugh if it wasn’t for the towel slowly cascading down to the floor. 

Your mind becomes cloudy, and words fail to escape your tongue. Your breath turns into a suppressed gasp, refusing to break free, and your eyes remain open, unable to close even if they want to.

Hyunjin isn’t fast enough. You’ve already seen…it. And the blush has already covered his cheeks. Before a word can be uttered, Hyunjin flees from the scene and dashes into his room.

You're left alone in a heated room, cheeks flushed, mind dizzy, and your friend yelling at you on the other end. 

“Oh, sorry!”

****

The cold breeze makes your skin shiver. Shortly after Hyunjin ran, you fled the scene yourself to the balcony of the apartment, trying to focus back on your friend. But you couldn’t help it; Hyunjin clouded your mind more than before. What was once just a simple and harmless crush was now going to become much more dangerous now that you knew what he looked like. 

“You sound like you're somewhere else,” your friend gives up. 

You sigh. “I’m sorry, it's just…I had an…awkward encounter with Hyunjin a little bit ago, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What happened?” your friend perks interest, noticing your mood change.

A smile creeps up as you recall the memory. You probably shouldn’t tell your friend; it was embarrassing, and Hyunjin probably wouldn’t want them to know. But it's eating at you not to tell someone, especially not to tell someone what you saw. 

He knew he had to face you at some point. You were still out there, in his living room, probably standing there with shock written all over your face. He slowly made his way out of his room, now fully clothed. Once he got out into the living room, he saw you on the balcony, talking on your phone. A sigh left him, knowing the awkward moment could be spared a bit longer. 

As he turned his head, he caught a glimpse of the side of your face. A lovely pink blush adorned your cheeks—you only blush when you're talking about something exciting. And your eyes gleam with a sparkle—he desperately wants to know what you're talking about. 

Without thinking, he walks to the balcony door, your back facing him. He creaks the door open only slightly to get a hint of what you're talking about. His name falls from your lips, and he immediately smiles….until he knows why his name fell from your delicate lips. 

“And he was so….” words fail on your tongue.

“So what! Big? Small? Average??! “

“BIG,” you try to keep your voice down, not wanting Hyunjin to overhear in case he is in the next room. Little did you know he could hear everything. “F/N, he was huge, and I’m talking like Magic Mike level.” A soft laugh leaves you, and you can hear your friend getting excited - She knows you’ve had a major crush on Hyunjin for a while.

Hyunjin leaves the door as is, thinking you might just ignore the fact that it was ajar. He leaves with a proud smile, stretching his face. You thought he was big… his chest puffs out with ego written all over it. 

Hyunjin noticed you finishing your conversation on the phone and beginning to hang up. He quickly returned to the kitchen as if you didn’t make his heart spike. Fortunately, he managed to make his way back to the kitchen, casually stirring his team, giving off the impression that he was unfazed.… Yeah, everything is perfectly normal. There is definitely not any discomfort in his pants at the mention of you saying he's big. 

You walk in, trying to act casual, until you see Hyunjin leaning against the counter with a cup of tea in hand. Your heart sinks as you immediately recall the moment just a while ago, at that very spot, with much less clothing. 

“Hey,” he says in a calm, relaxed tone. 

“Hey,” you mimic. 

“So, what were you and your friend talking about?” he smirks while taking a sip of his tea. 

Your mouth works quicker than your head can muster up an excuse, “Oh uhh. Nothing, just girl talk.” You try to distract yourself by making your way into the kitchen, trying to find a cup of your own to make some tea. 

“Ah, I see.” There is a long pause before he says, "Sorry about earlier.” Your cheeks flush. 

“Earlier?” you turn back to Hyunjin, who is rubbing the back of his neck while his eyes look up at you. “OH,” you deserve some sort of acting award or something like an Oscar. “Don’t worry about it; I didn’t see anything.” 

“Really?” he rounds the corner of the counter, coming closer to you. Your grip on the white mug you grabbed earlier tightens as Hyunjin comes face-to-face with you. 

“Yeah… really?” you swallow so hard you think he can hear you. 

He nods with a sure smirk and starts leaning back on the nearby counter. You watch his frame relax into the counter, his cup of tea still in his hand. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For a second, you thought he heard you on the balcony; that would be -

“So, you think I’m big?” 

The cup in your hand clings to the floor, along with your heart. He watches you slowly turn your head to him with a terrified expression. “I-uh-i,” you stutter, but all your met with is Hyunjin’s laughter. 

He barrels over in a fit of giggles, holding his stomach like his insides will explode out of him. “My god, you should see your face right now.”

“Ha. ha.” Your laugh is humorless as you continue to watch him. Suddenly, his back straightens, and he composes himself. Your mind races with potential situations. He could yell at you for being disgusting, or he could continue laughing at you, or he could kiss you. Wait, what?

His long sigh brings you back to reality, a reality that has Hyunjin right in front of you with a different kind of darkness in his eyes. His cup has somehow transferred to the counter, leaving his hands empty and itching for something to hold. His smirk still plays on his lips, making you shrink. 

“You're cute when you blush.” The warmth on your cheeks burns your skin, and your eyes dart anywhere but his. 

Your hand comes up to feel the heat radiating off of you, “you didn’t answer my question, pretty.” his dark change of tone makes your thighs clench and your insides melt. His silky voice is like a broken record in your mind, making your legs feel weak. 

“Y-yes,” you whisper. 

“Do you want me to show you exactly how big it is?” His face comes closer to yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath; both your lips at a whisper of a touch.

“Y-yes” 

“Yes what doll?” His hand carefully cups your jaw, forcing you to look nowhere but at him. 

“Yes, sir?” His devious smirk widens as a devilish glint sparkles in his eyes.

It was a struggle to untwine your bodies with each other, but you both eventually made it down the hall and into Hyunjin’s room without your lips disconnecting. His hands held you like a vice, grabbing every bit of your body he could. 

Your clothes are being pulled off your body, leaving you bare on Hyunjin’s bed. His tongue darts out to swipe a long stripe up your stomach to your chest. You arch your body, chasing more of him, wanting more of him. 

Your pleas and whines don’t go unnoticed, and Hyunjin is quick to pull his shirt over his head. You take a moment to admire the perfectly sculpted torso thats before you. You ogle over every ridge and define sharp lines that make up his body. 

“Like what you see, doll?” 

You swallow your words, nodding your head instead. “Awe, barely even touched you, and you're already too fucked to speak,” he giggles, leaning his body down to ghost his lips across yours. Your body begs for the satisfying feeling of his lips on yours, for his body pressing down on yours. 

You squirm underneath him, not getting the friction you so desperately need. Small moans and whimpers are music to Hyunjin’s ears. “You want me, baby?” you nod your head vigorously, the dark colour of his voice sending sparks of pleasure shooting to your heat. 

Suddenly, Hyunjin is slipping out of his sweats, scrunching them to his waist. His cock springs free, shooting against his lower abdomen. Slowly he spreads your legs apart, presenting your dripping bare cunt. He coats his throbbing tip between your dripping folds, spreading the wetness all over your inner thighs. “I’ll show you just how big I really am”. 

And with one final teasing flick against your clit, he’s pushing inch by thumping thick inch into your clenching walls. The unprepared burn freezes your entire body, making you still underneath him, but Hyunjin doesn’t let up. He keeps pushing every inch he has, pressing his pubic bone to your hips. You can feel him kiss your cervix with a gentle push of his thighs; anything that could form into words melts into moans, and your eyes cross with no thought in mind. 

His head disappears into the crook of your neck, and he smells your sweet scent like it's the only thing keeping him in control, the only thing holding him back from setting a brutal pace. 

You could feel your body relaxing into the pleasurable burn that was the stretch of Hyunjin’s cock. You could feel the juices of your own arousal dripping downwards. “Baby,” your strained whisper brought Hyunjin back from whatever euphoric spell he was under, bringing his head back up to you, “move baby, I need you to move”.

With that, his hips started to push inward, pulling his cock to a halfway point only to slowly push forward. You could feel your walls stretch and flex with every move he made. Your body practically vibrated, and your hands were clawing at Hyunjin’s back, wanting him to bully your cunt like it belonged to him, like you belonged to him. 

You swing your legs around his hip, urging him on, but it only gives him an idea. 

He could feel your walls clenching around his length like your life depended on it. He knew you wanted him deeper, faster; he knew you wanted more, but you were going to take what he gave you. Giving you a small hint of success at your little plea, he sprung his hips all the way back until his tip kissed the outskirts of your folds, only to slowly push back in, feeling your walls hug his cock perfectly. You made a pitiful moan in frustration, a sound that seemed to amuse him as he let out a dark and mocking laugh. “You’ll take what I give you,” he spat, which only made you clench around him. 

He set his pace slow and deep, forcing you to take it his way. Until he couldn’t take it anymore. You were so warm, so wet for him, so perfect to the touch, and you even smelled so sweet. His hips started to rock, forgetting his previous pace; he began to lose all control with the feeling of being inside you. 

With everything that had been happening, you could feel the heavy knot twist and turn with every deep plunge Hyunjin made. But with the added pressure of his cruel pace and the way his dick curved in just the right way to bully your g-spot, your legs began to shake, and your whole body tensed. The knot quickly snaps, sending you in a spiral of pleasure. 

Hyunjin refused to stop; with every intrusion of his thick cock battered against your over-stimulated walls, dragging shrinks of pleasure from your throat. You lost yourself in complete bliss, your body seizing and trembling out of control. 

You could feel his thrust getting sloppier up till when you felt his thick seed coat your inner walls white. You will never forget this feeling, the feeling of being completely and utterly full of Hyunjin’s cum, of it dripping out of you while him still being inside of you.

Hyunjin collapsed on top of you, propping his forearm next to you so he wasn’t completely crushing you. 

“So…was it as big as you thought?”

[heavensenteden]

✎ unraveled by you | nsfw fic 🔞

☆彡

hi guys hehehe, I'm stuck with the visual novel brain rot so I wrote about casper cause beyond the bet was delicious and I craved more of him ;P

anyways, this is cross-posted from my ao3 account and dedicated to my wife who watched me write this in my psych class (your future therapist writes fanfic I know)

link to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62269831

word count: 3304

pls minors dni and dnr ⭐️

cw: crying, overstimulation, strap ons, sub!casper

👻˖ ִֶָ 𓂃⭒

Sprawled across the bed, Casper clung to the sheets as if they were the only thing grounding him in this moment. His voice, hoarse and uneven, spilled out in helpless murmurs, each word trembling with longing. His half-lidded eyes flickered weakly, his mouth open as if he wanted to speak, but no words left his mouth. 

He reached out, fingers curling into the empty space around him, searching for something—someone—but finding only the plush comforter on your bed. He couldn’t do anything while he was under you, no matter how desperately he wanted to.

The reaper’s skin was completely flushed, soft pink and red contrasting dramatically against his normally pale– almost white skin. He was exposed to the gentle caress of the air conditioning within the bedroom the two of them were currently in. 

Your wandering hands glided smoothly over Casper’s soft, unblemished inner thighs, the sweat with the remnants of his previous releases, clinging to your fingertips. Every deliberate touch left him trembling, helpless beneath your teasing, his body betraying him with shivers of overstimulation. He’d unraveled beneath you completely, spent from four rounds of you teasing and making him cum, yet the aching emptiness in his untouched hole left him yearning for more than your hands or mouth.

"E-Enough..." Casper's voice wavered, hushed and hoarse, each syllable trembling with desperation.

As much as he adored you, your touch like fire across his skin, the way your presence consumed him wholly, he couldn’t handle another round of your relentless teasing. Not now. All he craved in that moment was to be pinned against the mess of your crumpled sheets and to be fucked, hard and fast, no space left for a single thought or breath. Your lips lazily pulled into a seemingly innocent smile. 

"You've tired out, and I still haven't come once my little reaper…" you purred, flashing your underwear to him from beneath your small skirt, your fingers dipping down beneath the thin, soaked fabric as you shoved it to the side, pumping your fingers in and out slowly, ensuring Casper was watching every single movement.

A soft moan escaped as you shamelessly pleasured yourself right on top of him, teasing him once more without a care, and after a moment, you withdrew the same hand– glistening with your own arousal, and held it up to Casper’s mouth, gently pressing them against his soft, supple lips.

“Open please.” and he did. The sweet boy took your fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around them, savouring the sweet taste from your pussy as if it was the world’s best treat, looking up at you with those pretty needy red eyes as he released your fingers, a trail of saliva left behind.

Casper’s lust-filled eyes followed your every move, dark and hazy with desire as your hands traced along his trembling thighs. The salty-sweet liquid trickling from his tip glistened in paths down to meet the thin sheen of sweat clinging to his flushed skin. With a teasing smirk, you let your pointer finger glide through the sticky trail, drawing soft patterns that left his thighs quivering under your touch.

Just when your hand was about to reach Casper’s leaking cock, said male's legs jolted slightly, squeezing his legs shut to somehow stop your hand from touching him anymore.

"N-No, no.. No more.." He whimpered, his sweat-matted hands clenching tightly onto the sheets as he shuddered. You tilted your head calmly, removing your hand out from in between his thighs. You lifted your fingers to your own mouth, licking the cum right off the tips. Casper’s head hung in shame; his embarrassment was obvious, even when you could not see his reddened cheeks.

You cupped the reaper’s chin, tilting his head up toward you, leaving no room for protest as your gaze locked onto his. “Are you really sure you want me to leave you like this? Sensitive, needy, and so, so bothered?” you cooed sweetly, the words dripping with mock innocence. Soft kisses followed, starting at his temple and trailing down, your nose brushing against his heated skin with deliberate tenderness until you were nuzzled into the crook of his neck, lingering, waiting for his answer.

Casper let out a shaky sigh, his back arching instinctively into your touch. His body betrayed him, trembling from exertion and burning with unfulfilled desire.

You couldn’t help but savor the sight before you: the reaper’s lip quivering, his thighs trembling, and his hands reaching aimlessly for something to ground himself. Droplets of sweat ran down his temples, his body flinching and twitching at even the slightest touch. He was utterly, beautifully wrecked for you. Perfect.

“P-Please... Sunshine, I…” His voice faltered, the plea dying on his lips as his chin remained firmly in your grasp, holding him exposed and vulnerable.

A sly smile tugged at your lips as you trailed your nose back up, lightly grazing his ear before nipping at the sensitive lobe. The sharp intake of breath you earned was music to your ears. “Please... what, Casper?” you murmured, your voice dropping into a low, sultry rumble that sent shivers down his spine. Each word carried with it the heat of your breath, ghosting over his bare neck.

Casper’s arousal spiked, a desperate whimper escaping his lips as his hips bucked forward, grinding helplessly against your thigh. God, he wanted it so bad, but the thought of having to beg made his chest tighten and his pride rebel. Yet, the way you teased him, the way your words wrapped around his resolve, made him wonder how much longer he could hold out.

Your intimate moments were always a balanced mix of merciless pounding and brat taming or soft, tender love-making. Dominance shifted fluidly between you depending on the mood, but this? This was something entirely different. 

The blend of teasing caresses and sweet nothings thrown into the mix left him desperate for you, caught between the soft cruelty of your restraint and the aching need building in his body. His cock and chest, evidence of your torment, leaving him trembling and needy for more.

“Y-You know... Sunshine…” His stammered words hung in the air, his voice cracking with frustration and embarrassment. Lowering his head in shame, he tried to hide his flushed face as you finally let go of his chin. But the moment was short-lived. As soon as his hips shifted, seeking relief, you caught him, your hands firm as you forced him still. Despite the heat pooling in your core at his boldness, you weren’t about to let him get away with it.

Your fingers brushed through his damp, white locks, the strands clinging to his sweat-slick forehead as you cocked a brow, feigning obliviousness. “Oh?” you mused, your tone laced with mock innocence. “Maybe... if you ask nicely, I’ll remember what it is you’re talking about.”

A teasing smile curled your lips as you leaned in, planting a soft, deliberate kiss just behind his ear. The reaper shuddered, clenching instinctively as though imagining the fullness he craved so badly.

He knew exactly what you were doing. He knew what you wanted.

And as much as he hated the thought of giving in, he couldn’t wait any longer. Not with the way his body screamed for release and your every touch ignited him further.

I... I want you to... fuck me... hard." His voice cracked, hips grinding desperately against the sheets, the raw need in his words sending a thrill through you. Your once innocent smile quickly morphed into something far more mischievous.

"How exactly do you want me to do it?" you asked, your voice low and teasing, your hands firmly gripping his hips, holding him in place.

You leaned in, your breath hot against his ear as you spoke, your words wrapped in seduction, coaxing soft throbs and twitches from him. Every teasing second was a slow burn, building anticipation.

"J-Just do it already... fuck—Sunshine!" His whine was desperate, eyes squeezed shut as he wriggled in your grip, hips grinding helplessly, overwhelmed by the mix of pleasure and frustration. His voice faltered on your nickname, caught between longing and the overwhelming need for you.

"Hm, well, since you've been so good for me, my love, I suppose I'll give you what you want." You pulled back just enough to let your breath cool his heated skin, watching him tremble in response. The tension in the air was palpable, and his body was already on edge.

"On your feet. Now." The command was sudden, firm, and a part of him loved that. He struggled to rise, his legs trembling as he shuffled across the bed, knees buckling under him, but he didn't dare touch himself. He knew the consequences, your endless teasing would make him wait longer, and he couldn't bear that.

As you rose from the mattress, you made your way behind him, your hands steady as you pushed him forward with one swift motion, pinning him against the bed, bent over for you. A soft whine escaped his lips, and his cheek pressed into the plush surface of the bed, eyes closed tight, body instinctively reacting to your dominance. You wasted no time shedding your underwear, letting the fabric drop to the floor in one smooth motion.

"Stay. Be good for me, baby. Won’t you?" you purred, your lips brushing gently against his neck before stepping back, grabbing the belt-like contraption. The click of it snapping into place as you tugged on the buckles and straps, nestling against your hips, made him shiver—not from the cool air lazily blowing from your AC unit, but just from the anticipation of what was to come next for him.

Once you were ready, your gaze turned back to him, scanning him for any sign of discomfort. You wanted this to be just as much about him enjoying it as it was for you.

"Do you need any more preparation, baby? Or do you feel ready?" you asked softly, your fingers tracing the outline of his hole, applying gentle pressure that made him tremble with pleasure.

"N-No, I’m ready... please, please, Sunshine..." His plea came out as a desperate groan, his body arching, pressing back against you, seeking more. He could feel the artificial cock pressing against him, making him tremble even harder.

You kissed his neck again, soft and sweet, before turning his face toward you, claiming his lips in a kiss that left him breathless.

"Get ready. I might go a bit more rough than usual," you warned, teasingly pressing just the tip inside, feeling him shiver under your touch. His breath caught, soft groans escaping him as you pulled out again, heightening his frustration.

"Yes, yes..." His voice was barely a whisper, a breathy whimper as you continued to tease him.

Slowly, carefully, you eased into him, the gentle pressure sending waves of heat through him. He gasped, his body still, frozen in the moment, mouth agape in silent ecstasy. You checked in with him, making sure he was ready for what would come next, and when you got the green light, you gave in to the brutal pace, each movement building to an intensity neither of you could hold back.

You let out a low, satisfied snicker as incoherent curses spilled from Casper’s lips. His grunts and groans echoed around the room, weakly tugging at his wrists, trying to escape your hold. But you didn’t relent, your grip on him unyielding, halting any movement.

"Is this... ah– what you wanted, my little reaper?" you breathed, pressing deeper into him, the thick length of you creating that delicious friction against his needy hole.

"Keep your back arched for me... Yes, just like that, good boy." Your eyes glinted with hunger, watching him obey, his ass pushing back against you with each thrust, the rhythm never slowing, never faltering.

Casper couldn’t form coherent words, he could only nod fervently, his moans and whimpers spilling out, each sound a perfect response that stroked your ego. With every thrust, his cheeks slapped against your thighs, the rhythm of it a sensual symphony. Each movement drew out a desperate moan, his body trembling as his drool dripped down his chin. It felt so good, and you knew deep down that no one else could make him feel this way.

"S-Sunshine... fuck, augh... Mmph!" His voice cracked, his desperate sounds only pushing you to thrust harder, deeper, fucking into him mercilessly.

You latched onto the tender spot at the base of his neck, biting down and sucking on the fading bruise from a previous round. You knew exactly where his pleasure points were, and using that knowledge, you broke him with ease.

A strangled cry left Casper’s lips when you hit the spot again, his eyes snapping wide open, the flood of pleasure making coherent thought impossible. He gasped and shuddered as you stroked his sweet spot with the tip of your cock, the sensation pushing him closer to the edge. A long, desperate cry of pleasure tore from him.

With a soft laugh, you shifted positions, pulling Casper off the bed for a moment. No longer was he bent over; now, you had him laid back, surrounded by a fortress of pillows and plushies against the headboard. You leaned in close, teasing him, your hips snapping against his with a brutal rhythm, thrusting deep into his already leaking hole.

"Did I find it?" you whispered, taunting him as you thrust once, twice, three times. Each hard push earned a pleading, broken sound from him, those sweet, desperate noises you loved. You knew you were getting closer, the sounds of his pleasure telling you that you were breaking him down, bit by bit. This was too good.

Tell me how it feels when I do this," you murmured, thrusting deep into his hole, hitting his prostate with a force that made him gasp.

"Ugh... Ahh..! S-Sunshine! Please, keep d-doing that..." His voice trembled, turning his head to the side, covering his face with an arm as his cheeks flushed a deep red.

“Let me see you, my little reaper... be a good boy for me, won’t you?” you cooed softly, coaxing him to move his arm away from his face. You reached out to intertwine your fingers with his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of his hand. For a moment, you slowed, grinding into him with sweet, deliberate movements, drawing soft moans and gasps from his lips.

“Mm… S-Sunshine, please... I’m so c-close...” His breath hitched, his body trembling as you held his hand, your other hand slipping under his thigh to support the new pace you set.

The pounding resumed, deep and steady, aimed directly at his sweet spot. Casper’s legs shook with each thrust, his body a mess of pleasure as he cried out your name, breathless and desperate.

"You’re so needy, my little reaper... you like it when I fuck you, don’t you?" Your voice was soft, almost teasing, as you watched him melt under your touch. His legs trembled more, his body quivering with every deep, satisfying thrust that hit him right where he needed.

"Gonna come... Hah... Hah... Sunshine!" His voice cracked, his body shaking violently, tears slipping from his eyes as they mixed with the sweat on his flushed face. A sob escaped him, raw and broken, and it sent a shiver up your spine. Forget what you'd said earlier—this sound, the sobs mixed with pleading moans, was your favorite. You had broken him completely, his body now a vessel for nothing but pleasure. Your thrusts grew erratic, but you never lost your aim, always hitting his prostate.

"M-Me too..." you whispered, breathless, eyes fluttering closed as you focused on the sound of flesh against flesh, the wet squelches, and the way his body responded to your every move. The pressure in your own body mounted, your hips moving faster as you neared your release.

Casper came first, his body spasming violently from the overwhelming sensation of cumming for the fifth time that night. His back arched up off the bed as a long, desperate whine echoed throughout the room. His cum spilled from his tip, pooling onto his toned stomach. You didn’t stop, though—your pace remained frantic as you fucked him through his final orgasm, watching as his body twitched and shivered from the overstimulation.

“F-Fuck, Cas, I-I’m so close, baby...” you moaned, breathless and frantic, your body tightening as you felt yourself teetering on the edge. Casper’s cries only pushed you further, the overstimulation driving you wild.

Your hips faltered, and you finally came, your body shaking as you rode out your orgasm, your lips parted and slightly red from biting them.

Both of you were breathless, unable to move, lying there in the same positions for a moment, letting the aftershocks of your climax pass. Casper’s body collapsed back against the pillows, and you took a few moments to catch your breath. With shaky hands, you unlatched the strap from your hips, carefully undoing the straps and buckles before placing it at the end of the bed. You slumped down beside him, exhausted, your body still humming with pleasure.

--

You nuzzled your nose against Casper’s neck again as you had both returned from the bathroom to the freshly made bed. "Sorry, sorry, I must've gone overboard. You've never collapsed like that before." You chuckled softly, your voice warm with concern as you gently massaged his sore body, moving from his legs to his back.

Casper grumbled, shifting slightly to face you as you finally settled beside him. "No... I liked it. My ass hurts, though," he muttered, sounding both sheepish and a little embarrassed as his face grew red.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, even in his frustration. There was something endearing about his pouting expression, and the way he tried to hide it only made him more irresistible. His usual sleepwear now that he lived with you — a black tank top and shorts — clung to his toned body, and for a moment, you just took him in, appreciating the sight of him beside you.

Casper, feeling your gaze on him, buried his face into the pillow, his cheeks flushed in a mix of embarrassment and pride.

"Oh, c'mon," you teased, your voice playful. "You're such a baby, Cas. Can I not appreciate your cute face and body?" You slipped under the covers next to him, pressing your chest gently against his front. Your arm snaked around his waist, pulling his body closer to yours, the warmth between you soothing your souls. With a heavy sigh, he lifted his head, his eyes meeting yours with a longing softness that made your heart ache.

"Just don't say those things out loud..." he muttered, his voice low and shy.

You smiled brightly, tilting his chin up gently so you could kiss him. The kiss was brief but filled with tenderness, and just as you pulled back, you murmured against his lips, "Whatever you say, my little reaper ."

Casper's eyes fluttered shut, a soft yawn escaping his lips as you nestled into his neck, your favorite spot. You felt his body relax against yours, his breathing steadying as he began to drift into a peaceful daze. You closed your eyes too, content and wrapped up in the warmth of the moment.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice soft and sincere.

Casper, already half asleep, smiled gently. He shifted slightly, his hand reaching out to hold yours. "Love you more..." he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion, but never lacking affection. As you both lay there, tangled in the sheets and each other’s warmth, you drifted off to sleep together, grateful that he had hacked into your laptop all those months ago.

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