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ninisdollie · 25 days ago

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kiss it better - nishimura riki 𓈒ིུ ❤︎ ˖ ݁

‎ ₊ㅤ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ Ⳋ᧙ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺

“In which reader teaches her dear friend how to treat a woman right. Or in which reader teaches ni-ki how to give head”

‎ ‎ ‎ ⁺ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ❤︎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ⊹　₊ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ͏͏✧ Content: +18MDNI

fem! reader x ni-ki, friends to lovers, usage of riki and ni-ki, oral sex (f. rec), masturbation (f), reader is in charge, fingering, spitting, face riding, needy! ni-ki, pussy drunk! ni-ki (he’s a mess) grinding, coming undone, slight voye.

hate comments will be deleted and blocked !! likes and reblogs are appreciated <3

Summer trip was always fun with your friend group. But this year was one of your favourites, there was nothing like spending the day on a tanning bed beneath the burning sun, chewing on fresh watermelon after a dive in the beautiful clear waters of the ocean, surrounded by your favorite people in the whole world.

The hotel pool glowed under the summer night, wrapped in string lights and the kind of drunken laughter that only came when everyone forgot about the world outside vacation. Music pulled from a speaker, bass steady. The air smelled like sunscreen and chlorine and you were tasting something fruity on your tongue from the drink you just finished.

You had just slid back into the water, the chill clinging to your skin as you moved through the shallow end. Your bikini hugged your body, still damp from earlier, and your hair stuck to your shoulders in soft waves. Most of your friends where on the deck now, draped across pool chairs or sprawled on towels, passing a bottle of tequila back and forth and yelling about nonsense.

Ni-ki was the only one still on the water.

He floated on his back with his eyes closed, legs lazily moving to keep him afloat, looking so relaxed like he didn’t have a single care in the world. So him.

You swam closer, water swirling around your waist, and nudged his side with your hand.

“You’ll drown”

“Let me.” He murmured, not even opening his eyes “Feels like a good way to go.”

A small laugh left your lips.

“Dramatic.”

Ni-ki opened one eye then, just enough to flash you a lazy smile

“Says the girl who almost cried when we splashed on her drink.”

“That was an expensive drink.”

“You’re expensive” He shot back, quickly.

That caught you off guard, and you blinked.

It wasn’t even that serious, just Ni-ki being Ni-ki. But still, it stuck. Hit something strange and sudden in your chest. Maybe it was the way he said it, or the way his gaze lingered a bit too long before flicking away. You’d always thought he was cute. Objectively, anyways. It wasn’t like you were blind, Ni-ki was tall and lean and had that perfect face that made even simple hoodies and cotton sweatpants look good. He was your friend, sure, you’d known him for years now. The same friend that threw up on your lap in Sunghoon’s backseat last summer, the same friend that stole your notes because he never did his homework on time. But that never stopped the thoughts that stuck in your head sometimes, thoughts you never let stay.

But for some reason, tonight felt different.

He ducked under the water suddenly, disappearing from your view. You barely had time to react before strong hands grabbed your waist from behind and lifted you with a splash, so easily.

You shrieked, laughing, trying to escape.

“Ni-ki!”

He just laughed, breathless and smug as you turned and splashed him back, right in the face. You were both soaked now, your bikini clinging tighter to your tanned skin, water streaming down your neck.

Ni-ki was still close, enough to feel the warmth radiating off him even in the cool water. His hands already dropped from your waist, but you could still feel them.

You felt your breathing shake as your eyes met his. There was something in his expression you couldn’t quite name. Like heavy and charged.

Then he blinked, swam backwards, and said casually.

“Alright. I’m bored.”

You barely had time to ignore the feeling before Heeseung called out from his chair, arms spread like he was announcing something big.

“Let’s play a game.” He said “Truth or dare.”

Jake made a face.

“We always do that. I’ve lost the count on the amount of times I’ve licked Sunghoon’s neck”

Your friends laughed at him, and you chuckled under your breath.

“Never have I ever then. Loser has to buy all our drinks tomorrow.”

Groans followed, but no one said no. You all gathered near the edge, some wrapped in towels and half-drunk already.

You ended up sitting next to Ni-ki, still damp, still trying to ignore the echo of his hands on your waist.

The game started innocent as always.

“Never have I ever lied to a date.”

“Never have I ever faked an orgasm”

“Never have I ever cheated”

The group slowly loosened between sips, laughter and more laughter, getting louder and messier by the second.

“Okay, I have one.” Heeseung then leaned in, grinning. “Never have I ever gone down on someone”

A few hands went up, including yours.

You didn’t look around, didn’t think much of it, but then you noticed that Ni-ki didn’t move.

He just sat there, calm, fingers tapping slowly on the ground. Then you turned your head.

“Wait, seriously?”

He looked at you, then shrugged.

“Yeah.”

Heeseung just stared.

“Wait wait wait - you’ve never gone down on a girl?”

Ni-ki shook his head.

“Nope.”

Sunoo gasped, hand flying to his chest

“What? Riki, oh my god!”

Heeseung was already laughing

“Bro. That’s practically illegal.”

Jake leaned in like he was interrogating him.

“You scared of it or something?”

Ni-ki scoffed and pushed him.

“Shut up.”

Sunghoon smirked

“So, what’s the reason?”

Ni-ki leaned back on his elbows, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look embarrassed, but he didn’t look thrilled by their teasing either. You didn’t expect it, to be honest, Ni-ki wasn’t exactly a playboy, but he wasn’t a saint either, you’d seen him a thousand times shoving down his tongue in random girls throats at parties.

“I just haven’t found the right person yet.”

That only made the boys laugh louder. Heeseung clutched his chest and someone said something about how he was a “certified mouth virgin”.

You watched Ni-ki stay still through it all, quiet.

Something in your chest pulled tight, and you sat up a little straighter.

“Okay, enough.” You said, cutting through the noise “What are we? Twelve?”

The group quieted a little, eyes turning to you.

“He’s just waiting for the right person, that’s not a bad thing.” You glanced at Ni-ki, met his eyes again. He looked back at you like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or grab your hand. “It’s not that deep. Honestly, most guys think they know how to do it, just doing it doesn’t mean you’re good at it.”

Ni-ki still hadn’t looked away from you.

But as the group moved on, laughing at the next prompt, the air between you didn’t shift back. It felt heavier.

The hotel was quiet now, after the chaos of earlier. You could still hear faint laughter from somewhere down the hall, someone’s speaker muffled behind the closed doors, but for the most part, you started to settle.

Your skin smelled like sunscreen and coconut from your body spray as you stood at the sink in your oversized tee and underwear, hair half-damp and twisted into a towel, the bathroom mirror foggy from your shower. Your limbs ached in a satisfying way that only summer could bring.

You were just about to crawl into bed when the knock came.

One, two, three soft raps, hesitant.

You froze for a second, staring at your reflection wondering who could it be this late at night. Then you padded across the room and peeked through the peephole, opening the door without thinking.

Ni-ki stood there, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie, hair damp and curling slightly around his ears.

“Hey.” He said.

You blinked, a bit surprised about his visit and the unsettling look on his face.

“Hey. Everything okay?”

He nodded, but didn’t move.

Then you stepped back, opening the door a little wider.

“Wanna come in?”

He didn’t answer, just walked in, quiet, his presence filling your small hotel room instantly. You shut the door behind him, suddenly too aware of how you were dressed, and the silence between you two.

He looked around, then sat on the edge of the bed like he’d done it a thousand times before.

But now it felt different.

“You good?” You asked again, crossing your arms trying to play it cool.

He nodded again, slower this time.

“Yeah. I just… couldn’t sleep.”

You leaned against the dresser, watching him. He was staring at the carpet, then at his hands. Then up at you.

“I’ve been thinking about what you said.” He admitted and your heart thudded.

“What part?”

“That it’s not about doing it, it’s about knowing how to treat someone.” He paused. “No one’s ever said that to me before.”

You swallowed, his voice was lower now, like each word was deliberate.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you” you said.

“I wasn’t embarrassed.” He replied “I just… never talked about it out loud.”

There was a long pause, and you waited, but he didn’t look away.

“I think that’s why I came here.”

Your pulse skipped.

“To talk?” you asked, even thought you were sure that wasn’t what he meant.

He smiled a little but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Kind of.”

You stepped a little closer before you could overthink it, the soft carpet sinking under your feet. You were standing between his knees now, and he was looking up at you from the edge of the bed.

“Riki” You said softly “Why did you come here?”

You knew the answer.

But the silence that followed cracked open something between you, something thick and heavy and real. You felt it settle over your shoulders, wrap around your ribs. Your skin prickled with awareness, his breath, your proximity, the weight of what you weren’t saying.

“Because I want to know what it’s like.”

Your breathed deep.

“What what’s like?”

His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper.

“To be with someone who actually wants to teach me. Who doesn’t think I’m weird for not knowing. Who… wants me to get it right.”

You stared at him.

He wasn’t smiling now. He wasn’t teasing. He looked serious, vulnerable, even. And it did something to you. Twisted something deep in your stomach. This was your friend, that not only trusted you enough to ask you this but you also thought he was cute and hot and perfect.

The room felt hot. Too small. Too quiet. His thumbs rubbed slow circles into your thighs now, and you realized he hadn’t looked away from you once.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Then come here.”

Ni-ki shifted before he could even think, his hands sliding up to your hips like instinct. And when he leaned forward, lips brushing yours, it was cautious at first. Feather-light. Testing.

You tilted your head and leaned into it.

The kiss deepened slowly, like water spilling over the edge of a full glass. His mouth was warm, hesitant but eager, lips moving with just enough pressure to make your knees weaken. You could feel the tremble in him, like he was holding back, waiting to be told it was okay to want this. To want you. So you gave it to him. One hand slipped into his hair, anchoring, and the other trailed down his jaw, guiding him as your mouths melted into each other. His breath hitched against your lips when you sucked gently on his bottom one, and he made the softest, most desperate sound, half whimper, half groan. He opened his mouth and his tongue crashed with yours, wet sounds as you tasted his saliva on your own, sighing softly against him feeling how his fingers dig into the bare skin of your thighs.

You pulled back just enough to whisper against his mouth.

“Get on your knees, Riki.”

He blinked up at you, dazed, lips red, eyes wide.

And then he obeyed.

His hands slid down your thighs as he sank slowly to the floor in front of you. Kneeling. Breath shallow. Waiting.

Completely at your mercy.

He looked up at you, already breathless. You could see it in his face, that eager, desperate curiosity masked by restraint. Like he was doing everything he could not to touch. Not to beg.

You didn’t say anything at first.

Just reached for the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, intentionally slow. You felt his gaze drag over every inch of skin as it was revealed, your bare breasts in front of him, nipples hard the second the cold air of the room touched them. His pupils were already blown wide, jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react. You dropped the shirt beside you, left in just your panties.

The overhead light was off, but the warm hotel lamp behind him painted your skin gold, throwing soft shadows along your collarbones, the curve of your stomach, the tops of your thighs.

Ni-ki looked like he’d stopped breathing.

“You okay?” you asked softly.

He nodded too fast.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just—fuck.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Rough and a little hoarse, like it had scraped his throat just coming out.

You slipped your thumbs under the waistband of your underwear.

His eyes dropped instantly.

You swore you saw his fingers flex again, digging into his jeans like it physically hurt not to reach for you.

You slid them down slowly, stepping out of them with a grace that felt foreign even to yourself, because god, the way he was looking at you was doing something to your head. Like you were the first naked girl he’d ever seen. Like he didn’t know what to do with the sight of you. Your bare intimacy was in front of him now, and you were dripping, glistening arousal that you hadn’t even noticed until that point, pulsing and needy and wanting him.

When you stood fully bare in front of him, you saw his throat bob as he swallowed. Hard.

“Still okay?” you asked again, voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you like you were unreal. Like you weren’t even part of the same world.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathed out, like it slipped from him without warning. “I don’t—what the fuck.”

Heat crawled up your chest. You weren’t used to being looked at like that. Not with that kind of reverence. Not like he was wrecked by just seeing you.

“You wanna learn how to do this right?” you asked, stepping closer until your knees touched the edge of the mattress.

He nodded, already breathless.

“Yeah. I want to learn everything.”

You smiled, heart pounding, then gently climbed onto the bed.

“Then watch me,” you whispered against his lips, not kissing him yet. “And listen to me. I’ll show you exactly how it’s supposed to feel.”

Settling back against the pillows until you were laying flat, you parted your legs just enough to keep him staring.

His breath audibly caught.

From below, he had the clearest view. Your skin glowing under the dim bedside lamp, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your thighs spread open with nothing hidden. Your dripping, swollen pussy. You watched his eyes flick from your face to between your legs, and stay there.

“You still with me?” you asked, your voice low and teasing.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve never—fuck, I’ve never seen anyone like this. Like you.”

Your core tightened at the way he said it, raw, reverent.

You bent one knee, dragging your heel up onto the mattress, spreading yourself more for him, breathing heavily, your heart pumping against your chest and your pussy pulsing under his gaze.

“Then pay attention,” you murmured, bringing your fingers between your thighs. “I’m gonna show you how I like it.”

Ni-ki looked wrecked already, and you hadn’t even touched yourself yet.

You started slow, fingers gliding down to part yourself gently. Your other hand gripped the sheets beside your ribs as you circled your clit, slow and lazy. Soft breaths fell from your lips.

You let your eyes drift shut for a moment, focusing on the warmth building low in your stomach. But you could feel his eyes on you. Could almost hear the tension in his throat as he swallowed thickly, breathing uneven.

“Can you see?” you asked, voice hazy, cracked at the edges.

“Yeah,” he said, too fast. “Yeah, I can see everything.”

You glanced down at him through your lashes. He looked dazed. Kneeling obediently between your legs, jaw tense, his hands fisted at his sides like touching himself would break whatever spell you’d put him under.

“Does it make sense now?” you breathed, dragging your fingers lower to gather slick and bring it back up, circling with a bit more pressure. “It’s not about being rough. It’s about paying attention.”

Ni-ki exhaled hard.

“You’re fucking unreal.”

A faint smirk tugged at your lips. You were soaked already, turned on by your own touch—but also by him. The way he looked at you. Like he was watching something sacred. Like he’d get on his knees for you again and again if it meant seeing you like this.

You kept your eyes on him as your fingers moved, lazy, deliberate circles that made your hips twitch every now and then. You weren’t putting on a show. This was real. You wanted him to see what it looked like when it was good. When someone took their time. When someone cared.

And judging by the look on his face, Ni-ki was already on the edge of losing his mind.

Still on his knees, his jaw was tight, lips parted like he kept forgetting how to breathe. His hands had fisted into the hem of his hoodie, knuckles pale from the grip. You could see how tense his thighs were. You could see the bulge against his jeans, hard and throbbing. How his chest rose and fell too fast.

You tilted your head, voice smooth and low.

“You want to touch me, don’t you?”

His eyes shot up to yours, wide and ruined.

“So bad.”

You let out a soft hum, letting your fingers slow, just enough to keep the pleasure alive.

“I know,” you said. “You’ve been staring like you’re starving.”

“I am,” he groaned, frustrated. “You’re—fuck, you’re driving me insane.”

You gave him a slow, lazy smile.

“Good. That means it’s working.”

He let out a strangled breath, his hands twitching again, like he didn’t know whether to beg or fall apart.

“Can I… please?” he tried, his voice rough. “Just a little—let me touch you.”

“You are touching me,” you said sweetly, dragging your fingers through your slick just to show him. You brought them to your mouth, tasting yourself on them before sliding them between your legs again “With your eyes. Can’t you feel it?”

He looked like you’d punched the air out of him.

“Don’t worry,” you added, voice a little lower, “I want you desperate.”

He exhaled shakily, dropping his gaze to your thighs again. His whole body was tense, on edge, like he was fighting every urge in his body to crawl up the bed and ruin the distance between you.

“You said you wanted to learn,” you reminded him. “So listen when I tell you this, Riki.”

He looked up again. Waiting.

“Pussy isn’t about technique. Not really. You can memorize all the tricks, flick your tongue every direction—but none of it matters if you’re not obsessed with the way she tastes. The way she feels when she’s shaking under you. The way she moans when you find the spot that makes her legs tremble.”

He blinked like he wasn’t breathing again.

“And if you’re not ready to worship her,” you whispered, dragging your fingers slow and deep between your folds, “then you’ve already failed.”

“Holy fuck,” he choked out, his voice barely a sound.

Your smile turned wicked.

“I haven’t even let you touch me yet and you’re falling apart. What do you think’s gonna happen when I put your mouth here?”

He groaned and tilted forward slightly on his knees, like the weight of your words pushed him closer.

You paused your hand and raised a brow.

“Getting needy?”

He nodded quickly, voice rough.

“Please. You’re killing me.”

Your chest rose with slow, smug satisfaction. He was so close—so close to breaking.

“You wanna taste me that bad?” you asked.

He licked his lips.

“So bad I think I’m gonna fucking lose it.”

You let your hand drop from between your legs and spread your thighs a little wider, baring yourself completely for him, your wetness dripping between your folds until you were soaking the bed beneath you.

“Then come closer,” you said softly.

He crawled forward the second you gave him permission, kneeling between your legs like it was the only thing in the world he wanted to do. His hands hovered just above your thighs, like he still wasn’t sure if he could touch you yet. You reached down and threaded your fingers into his hair, gently tugging until he looked up at you.

“Slow,” you murmured. “I want you to take your time.”

He swallowed hard.

“Okay.”

“Start soft,” you said. “Don’t rush. Just… taste.”

He nodded, breath catching like he was trying to anchor himself, but his hands were already trembling as they finally landed on your thighs. His touch was reverent, almost like he thought you’d vanish if he wasn’t careful. He leaned in slowly, plump and wet lips brushing the inside of your thigh first, and you gasped at the contact. Just a kiss. Just barely there. But it lit up your nerves like a fuse.

The warmth of his breath followed, and your skin prickled with goosebumps. His mouth moved again, pressing another kiss, this time closer. He wasn’t rushing. He was listening. To your voice. To your breathing. To the way your thighs tensed when he got nearer to where you really wanted him.

You threaded your fingers tighter into his hair, guiding him, not forcing, just showing him you were there.

He looked up once, like he wanted to be sure, and when you gave the smallest nod, he lowered his head again, mouth finally dragging over your pussy, hot and open.

It was slow.

So slow it burned.

The first lick was cautious, just a flick of his tongue, but you moaned softly anyway, hips twitching up toward him. You could feel how his breath hitched in response, how the small sound you made seemed to fuel him.

His lips parted again, tongue sliding a little firmer now between your soaked folds, tasting like he’d never tasted anything before. Like he was memorizing every part of you. The way your thighs shook. The way your breath caught. The way your fingers gripped tighter at his scalp when he hit the right spot, tongue licking wet and hot and perfect over your swollen clit.

“Good,” you whispered. “That’s good… just like that.”

He let out a low sound against you, something desperate, something needy. His hands slid up to your hips like he couldn’t help himself anymore, holding you in place, mouth pressing deeper. The flat of his tongue moved in slow, indulgent strokes, and your stomach clenched, your toes curling against the sheets beneath you.

You exhaled shakily, fingers still buried in his hair, the sight of him between your legs already enough to keep your head spinning. He was trying, so hard, too. Tongue warm, mouth open, but a little unsure still, like he wasn’t convinced he was doing it right even though your thighs kept clenching around his ears.

“Riki,” you murmured, voice a little breathless, “slower—press your tongue flat. Yeah, like that.”

You felt him pause, adjust, and then try again, this time dragging the full weight of his tongue through your folds, slower, deeper, like he was tasting you properly now. Your hips lifted off the bed without meaning to.

“Mhm, fuck—just like that,” you whispered, your voice catching as a sharp pleasure lanced through your core.

You kept your eyes on him, watching the way he reacted to every sound you made. Like he was feeding off them. His lashes fluttered, lips shiny and swollen now, and when he glanced up at you, it was like he needed more. Needed to hear it from you.

“Circle your tongue around,” you whispered, tugging gently at his hair to keep him exactly where you wanted him. “There… slower. Keep it soft. I want to feel everything. Spit on it baby, get me soaked.”

His groan vibrated against you as he obeyed, the wet glide of his tongue sending another wave through your stomach, and then a thick string of saliva fell on your already soaked pussy. His hands clutched your thighs tighter now, nails pressing into your skin just enough to ground himself, like he was getting lost in it. In you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you whispered, letting the praise drip from your lips. You saw the way his eyes rolled back slightly when you said it. How his movements got a little more confident, a little messier, but somehow still just right. “Taste me—really taste me. Don’t just lick, use your mouth.”

He obeyed with a quiet desperation, sucking gently on your clit, tongue slipping lower before dragging back up again, slow and thick, like he wanted to devour every inch of you.

You gasped. Moaned. Tugged harder at his hair.

“Fuck, Riki—don’t stop—”

He didn’t. If anything, he got hungrier, greedier. His tongue started moving with more pressure, his lips sucking softly at the spots that made your thighs shake.

You didn’t even have to look down to know he was gone.

You could feel it, in the way his mouth moved, in the way his grip had turned bruising on your thighs, in the low, desperate sounds he kept making every time his tongue dragged through you like he couldn’t help himself.

But when you did look down, your heart almost stopped beating.

Riki’s eyes were barely open, glossy and wild, lips swollen, wet from you. His face was flushed, hair clinging to his forehead with sweat, and he was panting between licks like he physically couldn’t get enough.

And he kept talking.

Mumbling between mouthfuls, between kisses to your soaked skin, between long, obscene licks like he was drunk on the taste of you.

“Fuck—you taste so good…” he breathed, voice hoarse and wrecked. “S’fucking good… I can’t—god, I can’t stop.”

You moaned softly, hips rolling toward his mouth, and he whined into you. Actually whined.

“It’s the best,” he said again, more to himself this time, like he couldn’t believe it. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had. I swear—fuck, I need—need to keep tasting you.”

His tongue flattened again, dragging up, slower this time, like he wanted to savor it. He licked you like it was holy.

You gasped, gripping his hair, pulling him tighter to you.

And he loved it.

Didn’t even flinch. He moaned loud into your cunt, licking deeper, rougher, sloppy now, his mouth messy and wet and insistent. Every word he slurred out came like a prayer, like he was in some trance.

“I wanna eat you every day,” he groaned. “Fuck, please let me—I’ll be so good for you, I’ll learn everything—just don’t make me stop—”

Your head fell back against the pillows, legs shaking. He wasn’t even listening anymore, just moving off instinct, tongue flicking exactly how you taught him, sucking just enough to make your stomach twist with heat.

“You like it that much?” you teased, your voice barely holding steady, but it was still firm. Still in control.

His eyes fluttered open, unfocused but burning.

“I love it,” he said immediately.

Your legs trembled around his shoulders, and still—still—he didn’t stop. His tongue was relentless now, messy and hot and wet against you, every slow stroke making your stomach twist tighter, your breath hitch faster. But you wanted more. You could feel your body hovering right on the edge, just one touch away from snapping completely.

You slid one hand down, gently brushing your fingers through his hair, guiding him just enough so you could breathe.

“Riki,” you panted. He blinked up at you, dazed and glassy-eyed, his mouth still open, his chin glistening. “Use your fingers too.”

He nodded without hesitation, licking his lips like he didn’t want to waste a drop.

“I—I don’t wanna mess it up,” he said, breathless, hand twitching at your thigh. “Just tell me what to do.”

You grabbed his wrist gently, brought it between your thighs, your own fingers wrapping around his to help him feel you.

“Start with one,” you whispered. “Slow. Let me open up to you.”

He swallowed hard and did exactly that—one long finger slipping into your heat, careful, reverent. The moment he did, a soft sound escaped your lips, your walls fluttering around him.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, almost choking on the words. “You’re so warm. So—fuck—tight. Is that okay? Is that good?”

“So good,” you gasped, voice trembling. “Now curl it—just a little. Mhm… yeah, right there.”

He groaned at the way you clenched, and then his mouth was on you again—tongue working in tandem with his finger now, stroking inside while he sucked and licked and moaned like he was starving.

You let out a high, breathy moan, your hand still guiding his wrist, helping him learn the rhythm. Your hips rocked up to meet both touches, tongue and finger now perfectly synced, and he responded instantly, desperate to give you exactly what you needed.

“Add another,” you said, your voice shaking but firm. “You can take it.”

He hesitated only a second before easing a second finger in, slowly, and when he felt your body stretch around him, another broken groan left his throat.

“Fucking perfect,” he murmured, his voice wrecked. “You feel so perfect—I wanna stay here forever.”

Your back arched, thighs trembling around his head, and he fucked you with his fingers just like you taught him, curling them right, keeping his mouth exactly where you needed it, letting you grind against his tongue shamelessly.

“That’s it, baby,” you moaned. “Just like that. Keep going—you’re gonna make me come.”

And the second those words left your lips, Riki lost it again, messy, moaning into you, thrusting his fingers harder, tongue flicking faster. You felt your climax building like a wave you couldn’t stop.

His lips were slick and red, cheeks flushed, hair clinging to his forehead. But it was the way he was moving that really undid you, hips rocking slowly against the mattress beneath him, grinding like he didn’t even notice he was doing it. Like he physically couldn’t stop.

He was moaning into you, low, broken, filthy sounds muffled by your thighs, and every time you tugged his hair or praised him, his hips pushed down harder, desperate for friction.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your whole body twitching under him. “You’re so needy, baby. Can’t even control yourself, can you?”

He moaned again, loud and desperate, and nodded just barely, face still buried in you.

“I—can’t,” he slurred between licks. “You taste too good—I need it—need to make you come—please, I can’t stop—”

The grind of his hips sped up, his fingers curling perfectly inside you while his tongue flicked your clit again and again, completely in rhythm, completely feral. His thighs were trembling from the way he was using the friction beneath him, like he was getting off just from serving you. From the taste. From your voice.

From the fact that he was the one making you fall apart.

“That’s it,” you groaned, hips bucking up toward his mouth. “Keep grinding, baby. Fuck yourself while you eat me. God—look at you…”

But he wasn’t looking anymore.

His eyes were squeezed shut now, brows furrowed in focus, mouth and fingers soaking wet, hips stuttering with every moan. And from the way his body was shaking, you knew, he was so close. Without even being touched.

You were shaking, heart hammering, your breath catching in short, ragged gasps. Every flick of his tongue, every curl of his fingers sent sparks rushing down your spine, your thighs trembling around his head. Ni-ki didn’t slow down, if anything, he was more focused than ever, like every sound you made fueled him. Like he needed to pull you apart, needed to feel you break for him.

You could barely keep your eyes open, barely breathe with how good it felt, how intense it was. His hands gripped your thighs like lifelines, grounding himself there, mouth working like he was starved and you were the only thing he’d ever wanted to taste.

Your hips jerked. You were so close it hurt.

“Riki,” you gasped, your voice cracking. “I’m gonna—”

“Come, please, need to feel you come on my mouth baby” He whispered, breathless, sucking your clit so hard that you cried out.

That did something to him. He moaned again, deep and wrecked, and it vibrated against you, just enough to push you over.

Your back arched off the mattress, your fingers tightening in his hair as the world blurred and broke around you. The orgasm tore through you in waves, sharp, warm, overwhelming. You cried out his name, legs closing around him, but he didn’t move, didn’t stop. He held you through it, mouth still soft, slow, working you gently as you came down.

When your muscles finally stopped trembling and your breathing slowed, he looked up at you.His lips were swollen, eyes glassy, flushed and ruined, and he was still panting because he came too, hard and soaked and messy against his jeans from just eating you.

You reached down and stroked your thumb over his cheek.

“You did so good,” you whispered, still breathless. “So, so good.”

And the look in his eyes when you said it? Like it was the only thing he’d ever wanted to hear.

You were sure you created some kind of monster.

It was like something had snapped open between you and Riki that night, something hungry and undeniable. He hadn’t touched you in front of anyone since, but you could feel it: the way his gaze followed you when you walked past in your bikini, the way he’d bite his lip when he thought no one was looking.

But it was worse when you were alone.

Because now, it wasn’t just once. Now he wanted you constantly.

You hadn’t even made it out of the hotel earlier that morning without him pulling you back into the bathroom, dropping to his knees like it was the only place he belonged. He’d barely said a word, just looked up at you with those dark, desperate eyes and mumbled something about “missing the taste of you.”

It had been messy. Rushed. You had to muffle your moans into your hand and clamp your thighs tight around his head just to keep quiet.

Now, three days later in the afternoon, you were sitting under a beach umbrella with a drink in your hand, pretending like you weren’t still flushed from the memory. Pretending like your legs weren’t shaking.

Ni-ki was stretched out on a towel a few feet away, sunglasses on, the sea breeze lifting his hair. He looked calm to anyone else—maybe a little too calm—but you saw the truth. The tension in his jaw. The slight curve at the corner of his mouth when he caught your eye.

And then he mouthed something at you across the space between your friends.

Please.

You blinked.

What?

He glanced toward the beach showers. Then back at you. And mouthed it again:

Please. Just five minutes.

Your heart stuttered.

You shook your head. Barely. But your thighs pressed together instinctively, heat blooming low in your belly. He tilted his head, still pleading, like he was barely holding it together.

He wanted it again.

He wanted you again.

And it hit you then, this wasn’t just about curiosity anymore. This wasn’t a one-time thing.

Ni-ki was hooked.

The sun was beginning to dip lower, casting everything in a hazy gold, and the breeze off the ocean carried laughter and music from your friends further down the beach. You were pretending to still be sipping your drink when Ni-ki brushed past you, close enough that your knees touched for a second.

No one noticed. Or so you hoped.

He didn’t say anything, just walked towards the showers without looking back.

But you followed.

Your heart pounded as you crossed the sand, the faint sound of water trickling from a half-open faucet masking your footsteps. The beach shower area was quiet, stone walls, open-air, private enough if you were quick.

You slipped inside, and there he was.

His back was against the tiled wall, hair tousled, lips parted, like he’d barely been breathing since he left you on that beach chair.

“I thought you said five minutes,” you whispered, stepping in closer.

He shook his head, chest rising and falling beneath his shirt.

“That was a lie.”

You raised a brow, teasing.

“So you dragged me out here to lie to me?”

“No,” he said, voice low, hoarse. “I dragged you out here because I need you.”

And that was all it took.

You kissed him first, quick and hot, stealing his breath. But he dropped to his knees before you could blink, already pushing your swimsuit bottoms down your legs with shaking hands, reverent and hungry.

“Wait,” you breathed, glancing toward the open side of the shower. “Someone could—”

“I don’t care.” His voice was wrecked, hands firm as he pulled your thighs over his shoulders. “I’ll be fast. I promise. I just—fuck, I missed you.”

And then his mouth was on you.

The rush of it stole your breath. The contrast of the cool tile behind you and the burning warmth of his tongue had you clutching the stone wall for balance. He moaned into you, shameless, like the taste of you alone was enough to undo him. You bit your lip, trying not to make a sound, failing as a gasp slipped out when he flattened his tongue and really got into it.

“God, you’re so good,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “So greedy—”

He groaned, grinding against nothing, his fingers digging into your thighs as he pulled you impossibly closer. His mouth was wet, messy, insistent, and every time you tried to look down at him, you saw how gone he was, red cheeks, glassy eyes, flushed and panting like he needed this more than air.

“Riki,” you warned, breath hitching as the pressure built again, sharp and fast. “We don’t have long—”

“I don’t care,” he mumbled against your skin. “Let them see. I’d still stay right here.”

That nearly ended you.

You didn’t even hear the footsteps pass nearby over the sound of the waves and your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You just held his face, riding the edge, knowing it wouldn’t take long.

By the time you stepped out of the beach showers, your legs were still trembling.

You’d tried to fix your hair in the tiny mirror, smooth out your expression, but your mouth was swollen and your swimsuit still clung awkwardly to your damp skin. Riki walked a few steps behind you, his shirt thrown over one shoulder, cheeks still flushed, his lips a little too red.

And worst of all, he was smiling.

You elbowed him as you walked, muttering under your breath,

“You’re being obvious.”

“I am obvious,” he said softly, brushing your fingers with his as you passed a stray towel on the sand. “And you liked it.”

You glared at him—only half-serious—and picked up the pace, ignoring the way your thighs still ached.

When you reached your friends, Jake was the first to spot you.

“Well, well, well,” he grinned, raising his sunglasses. “Look who finally decided to rejoin society.”

“We weren’t gone that long,” you said quickly, dropping your towel back down like nothing happened.

Jake squinted. “You guys missed the watermelon. And Sunoo was telling this insane story about—wait.” He paused, eyes narrowing slightly. “Why do you look like that?”

Your stomach flipped. Riki coughed behind you.

Sunghoon glanced up from where he was drying his hair.

“Yeah. You guys look kinda… flushed.”

“Hot out,” Riki mumbled.

“Hm,” Jake said slowly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

You sat down quickly on your beach chair and took a sip of your drink, trying to will your heart rate back to normal. But Riki flopped down next to you, casually propping his sunglasses on top of his head, lips still a little too pink.

You glanced at him.

“You’re enjoying this.”

He smirked.

“A little.”

“Don’t say anything.”

“I won’t.” He leaned closer, voice dropping so only you could hear. “Unless you want me to tell them how good you taste when you—”

“Riki.”

He grinned wider and leaned back like nothing happened.

You tried to look normal. Innocent. Unbothered.

But the looks your friends kept throwing your way said one thing clearly:

They knew something was up.

And if they didn’t know now, they would soon, because Riki’s knee was already brushing yours under the towel, and the second you leaned towards him, he gave you that look again.

Hungry.

Summer trip this year had just started.

2K notes · View notes

grugruel · 22 days ago

Text

Stop me if it hurts.

Pairings: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: A supply run goes south, and Joel has to save you. The damage done brings you closer.

At the end of the day, you're belly up on the bathroom floor with joel on top of you, sweaty and panting.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: soft!joel, pinv sex, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, creampie, "I love you", cum eating ish, pet names (sweetheart, baby, girl), slight overstimulation.

AN: I've laboured guys. I might have cooked. The end is sloppy in more ways than one😼 I'll fix it up, though. I've still got to proofread. But until then, ENJOY.

Reliable arms carry her far. Bloodied and torn, but she's still alive. By his virtue alone.

He'll glance down at her from time to time, whenever he can spare vigilance from their surroundings. There's worry sharpening his eyes. Yet, the edges dull when their eyes connect and he finds hers glinting with gratitude.

Disconnected by shock, but safe in his embrace. Fatigue from the day's horrifying events take over, and the girl doesn't reflect before caressing his neck.

Joel smiles, it's quick and sweet. But it falls as reality floods the pair, drowning them in consequences. The softness she values disappear from his eyes, seamingly reminded of the dire situation they find themselves in.

She shouldn't have, she knows it. His divided reaction lurches in her stumach while the question festers in her mind. Which situation was it? Emotional or physical–Infected or her father. One wedging between them while the other forces them closer.

Her thoughts become muddled, she doesn't know. The girl's adrenaline drops and she struggles to keep her eyes open as her subconscious is assured of safety in his embrace.

Worry furrows his brow once again. Snow crunches underfoot as his pace picks up, desperate to get you to safety.

The bright blue sky and light snowfall encapsules the determination in his features. Her eyes are drawn to his strong stubbled chin as fingers sink into her skin.

Then it goes black.

—

Her father's worried face and relief washing it clean as he catches sight of his girl. He knows she's in good hands, he knows she needs to be taken care of. She gets snippets of their conversation while swaying in and out of consciousness. "Take care of her, Joel." And "Get her warm." Among a few. In the back of her mind is an image, her father's eyes relenting to a friend. Admitting that his grown daughter would rather have Joel's help in such a delicate situation. Then, his parting words comes rushing back. "I trust you."

—

Coarse fabric strokes her face, stinging shallow wounds. Wincing at a particularly nasty cut, she opens her eyes to find Joel's face inches from her own. "It was the best I could find," he murmurs, a damp towel in hand.

She sighs in with relief, happy to see his face again and the girl gets a sudden urge to stroke the grey strands at his temples. "At least it's clean."

Joel smiles, the dent between his eyebrows loosening. He's relieved by her light mood. It's a good sign. "Not anymore," he jokes.

The girl blinks, noting that the brownish red towel had once been white. It doesn't worry her, the cuts she can feel are mild. It's the pain she cant see that alarms her, a dull ache haunting her muscles. She tries to move, but a blinding pain shoots through her and she groans. "Mggh-- Fuck. Is it bad?"

"I dont know, I'd have to see for myself." He sits back, eyes searching her body. "Your face took the worst of it. I can't find any blood apart from the cuts on your face." Joel rubs the towel over her forehead, his thumb soothing the skin as he moves along. "But, I expect there'll be a lot of bruising."

"Will they scar?"

Joel's gaze flick between the wounds, assessing them. He doesn't say it, but he's apologetic.

She nods, putting on a facade of indifference. "Cool, cool." She feels her face. The skin on her forehead, chin and cheek have split. A few scars are little to trade for her life, but it sucks either way.

"You're not gonna like it, but we need to get you walking–figure out where it hurts."

The girl nods again. She takes a moment to catch her breath, then sighs, "let's get it over with."

Joel ditches the towel and kneels beside her, circling an arm around her back to get a steady grip on her body. "Ready?"

She puts an arm around his shoulders and braces a hand against the back of her chair. "Ready," she exhales.

It hurts less with his help, but the side of her abdomen wails in protest. "Oof-" Worn floorboards creak as the girl takes a few steps without a limp. That's good news. "Mhh-- Its my side," she huffs. The room seems to warp around her, blurring her vision. "Feels like my waist 's gonna snap in half."

"Alright, alright," he exhales, relieved by the miraculous steps as she is. "We'll have to take a look, got a bath running upstairs," he begins, bending down to slip an arm beneath her legs. He smells of leather and pine.

The girl stops him. "I can walk, Joel." Pushing him away by the chest. "Promise," she says, but the dizzy spell lingers and the force from her own arms make her stumble.

Joel hauls her into his arms, shooting her independece down. "Now's not the time to be stubborn," he chuckles.

She wants to protest further, but there's immediate relief along her midriff as he takes the weight off the damaged area. She didn't realise how her body strained, but once gone, a relieved tear rolls down her cheek. "Thank you," she whispers.

Glancing down, Joel has to swallow unwelcome emotions. The tear has streaked dialuted remains of blood. She's strong, but hurting. Three words want to slip by his lips, but he swallows them too. He doesn't dare answer at all.

They journey the rest of the way in silence. Once arrived, Joel nudges the door open with his shoulder and steam swarms the pair. Gently, he sets her down on the tiled floor.

It's dark as little light seeps in from the hallway. But it's the heat that presses her mind, making it hard to focus on anything else. She's overdressed, sweat already coating her skin. Unzipping her jacket, she strains to pull it off. Hissing as she's forced to move her side.

"Gently," Joel calms her, stepping in to help and slides it down her arms. Without another word, he sinks to his knees and starts untying her shoes. Joel looks up, there's devotion in his eyes. Kind and unyielding. He cares for her like she cares for him, but this isn't news. It's hazardous however.

With their eyes locked, the girl carefully bends forward to brace a hand against his shoulder, aiding Joel in the removal of her shoes. He slides a hand behind her calf while the other grab the heel of her boot, pulling it off. It pains her, and he notices. "Just one more," Joel reassures her as he switches legs, making quick work of the second to spare her the pain. "Well done, sweetheart."

The pain affects her less than his words. Joel straightens out and looks her over. "Still need any help with that?" He nods to her hoodie, hands on his hips.

"Please." She's never enjoyed the feeling of helplessness, but if someone has to save her–she'll ways choose Joel.

"Raise your arms," he instructs, and gathers the fabric into his palms. She wears a t-shirt beneath, and as he begins to pull, it catches on the hoodie and hikes above her abdomen. Joel gets an involuntary glance of her exposed skin, and duty catches him in the act. He's quick to grab the shirt and pull it down as he slips the hoodie over her head. "Alright," he clears his throat and discards the hoodie. "Want to sit down for this?"

She shakes her head.

"Stop me if I hurt you."

She nods.

"Hey, look at me."

Doe-eyed, she faces him.

"Say it."

The girl's gaze flick between his eyes. Stubborn versus stubborn. He desires to strengthen her autonomy–by doing as he tells her. It's contrasting. And the thought of his hands on her body was a remedy of its own. Yet, she relents. "I'll stop you. . . If it hurts."

There's the beginnings of a smile, proud in it's curve as he hitches the t-shirt on his thumb and lifts it enough to inspect her side. A tall bruise stretches up her midriff, darkening her waist and ribs. He plants his hands around her ribcage to feel for breakage, and her breath hitches as he gets to the bruise. Joel lock eyes with her, ready to stop. But the 'stop' never comes.

The girl rolls her eyes. "You're not hurting me," she reassures him.

Joel nods slowly, inspecting the purple skin. "Nothing seems broken," he says, softly tracing the length of her ribs. And his thoughts take him elsewhere.

It was supposed to be a supply run. Ordinary and well-practiced. She wasn't supposed to come, but Joel had allowed it. She wanted to, he tells himself. But deep down, it was because of his own slefishness. He wanted her by his side, unsupervised by her father for few hours. Just the two of them.

He strokes the purple skin, transfixed by it's blotchy pattern. He was the cause of her pain. "I'll wait downstairs," he breathes. Prepared to give her space. Yet, he doesn't move.

"I might need your help," she offers, giving him a reason to stay. But there's protest brewing in his features. She continues, "just turn around, Joel. It's not that serious."

His arms are crossed as he gages her. One would think it's the look of a man firm in his decision. But Joel sighs, and a moment later his back is turned, leaning against the doorframe.

He eyes the floor out of respect, but the day has taken it's toll. He's worn, and look up to stretch his neck. Too late does he remember the small mirror above the sink. Inside it's fogged up frame is the girl, half-naked and glistening from sweat. And Joel's consience fails.

She releases pained grunts pulling on the back of her shirt, hoping to avoid extra strain. "Oh for fu-- Joel?" She pants. The fabric had slipped from her grip, and the girl can't bother doing it all again. "Joel?" The girl repeats. Turning her head sideways, she catches his eye in the mirror. "Think 'm gonna need that help after all." She doesn't question why he's looking at her or why he hasn't refrained. She knows.

The girl turns around and lifts her shirt, revealing the small of her back. Joel moves closer until his lips are inches from her neck, their breaths come heavy and his hands slide beneath the fabric. All rational sense vaporize along with the steam as he pulls it off. "Want me to continue?" He asks, whispering over her shoulder.

The girl shivers. "Yes."

Rusty fingers unclasp her bra, snapping it open. Gently, he slides the straps down her arms. Thebra hits the floor, Joel grasps her biceps and rests his forehead between her shoulderbaldes. "Tell me to stop, baby." Lips brush against her spine.

She furrow her brows as the words cut through her. "I won't." She knows it's hard for him, how he wishes to be free of these feelings. But it's hard for her aswell–being told of his wish to stop.

Joel moves closer, pressing his chest against her bare back. His hands find the buttons on her jeans, undoing them one by one. Then, he sinks his knees once more, and their gazes meet over her shoulder. Joel focuses on her eyes as he hooks his thumbs into the denim waistline and pulls it down. From their restriction, her panties follow. And she steps out of them both before Joel stands back up and looks away, grabbing her waist. He helps her step into the bath without a glance in her direction. Duty outways lust.

The girl adores his display of respect. She always has. Sitting on the edge of the tub, his fingers sink deep into her untouched side. He holds her weight with one arm, enabling Joel to spare her bruised side. Her eyes light up. She adores how considerate he is. There are a hundred qualities most men lack, which all come natural to Joel.

Sinking into the water, her aching body sighs. It loosens the tension that constricts her muscles and allows the girl to move without much pain.

"Im always thanking you."

"You never have to," he says, then moves to leave. He has done his duty, lingering would be a breech of it.

But she grabs his hand. "I want to thank you properly."

He shakes his head, refusing to look at her. "Im not trading you for a few minutes of pleasure."

"Joel." The girl places his hand over her heart, coarse fingertips soaking up waterdroplets that glisten on her skin. "I'm right here," she whispers, leaning closer to cup his face, gaining no response. "Inches away, wanting you . . . Loving you."

That gets his attention. Finally, he looks at her. The gravity of their situation opening his eyes.

"You mean the world to me," she murmurs and slip his hand beneath the surface, guiding it atop her breast.

Joel inhales, fingers itching to move. To squeeze and massage. To give her everything she needs.

"I love my father, but he doesn't get to decide who else I give those words to." She beckons him closer. There's no force. Only slight pressure dimpling his cheek as she retracts her hand. It's the simple threat of her touch slipping away that makes Joel follow.

Their noses brush. "Tell me you love me too," she whimpers, squeezing for him, making his calloused fingertips dig into her breast.

Joel groans, chin jerking in chase of her lips. But he uses all the willpower he can muster to halt his urges, closing his eyes to focus.

"Tell me, Joel." She pecks the corner of his mouth, stubble prickling her lips. "Tell me. . ." Her hand squeezes harder around his.

"Fuck, girl," he groans, clenching his free hand. Joel tries to shake his fingers loose of restlessness, but it doesn't work. Enough is enough, he thinks. And puts them to use instead.

Joel rolls his shirtleeve up before softly grabbing her jaw. Slowly, his hand leaves her breast and dives beneath the surface. He leans closer, when an inch away he whispers, "I love you." Their lips connect as his hand slides down her abdomen. The kiss is considerate, and they're hungry. But this moment will weigh heavy in their memories, it would be a shame to rush.

Fingers slip behind her neck for purchase as Joel deepens the kiss. Yet, keeping the thumb on her jaw he applies a soff caress to preserve it's innocence.

The girl has never felt love this strongly before.

His hand sends shivers up her spine as jt dives between her thighs, cupping her mound.

She gasps and pulls away by reflex. Their eyes connect. Joel hesitates, his fingers pausing just as they reach her clit.

She shakes her head. "Dont stop, Joel. Dont stop." She had been entranced by the kiss, the sudden pressure caught her of guard. But her hand slips from his cheek to pull him closer by the shirt. "Please," she breathes, brushing her lips against his before inching back. Teasing him into action.

Luckily for her, it works. He slides two fingers between her folds before sinking into her core. She moans, eyebrows furrowing from the sudden pleasure shooting through her. "Yes . . ."

But as she leans in to kiss him, Joel pulls back. "Let me look at you, sweetheart."

The girl smirks and rests her cheek on the bathtubs edge, cushioned by the back of her hand.

Combing through her damp hair, he tenderly pulls it away from her face and gathers it in his fist. Joel simultaneously picks up the pace. He rubs his hand against her mound while thrusting his fingers, long fingers curling against her insides as his palm rubs against her clit.

He has experience, but that's to be expected. The girl was just in tatters by the raw talent he possesses. The knot tightens in her stumache, uterus roiling from the stimulation of her walls. She can only try to convey the pleasure he gives her. Her panting picks up, nonsense words falling from her lips.

"You're so beautiful," he says and strokes her temple. Gazing at eachother, his expanded pupils betray his thoughts.

The girl smiles, but the sweet moment passes as his fingers curl and her teeth sinks into her lip. "You-- Mhhg . . . You'll make me blush . . . Joel."

He smiles back, teeth and all. Those are rare. "You already are."

She can imagine. Rosy and satisfied by his hand. Her lungs strain as breaths expell in moans, high in pitch to signal her approaching climax.

"Jesus- 'm close," she cries, eyebrows creasing painfully. "You're s' fuckin good . . . Wanna be good, too." Her hand falls to his jeans, attempting to undo the buttons while she navigates through blinding pleasure, stars filling her vision.

"Let's focus on you, baby." The words push her over the edge and the pressure bursts like a dam, washing over- and filling her with ecstacy. "You're doing so good," he murmurs and levels his head with hers. The girl's fingers curl reflexively, sinking them into his thigh. Joel hisses, brushing his lips over hers. "Thats it . . . Good job, sweetheart."

"Kiss me," she whimpers and Joel obides without question–for once. Their lips meet again, comforting and soft. Joel's and leave her sex to move both into cupping her face, and the restrained her falls around her face. He pulls her closer

Tracing a nail up his thigh, she loops a finger through a belt hoop and tugs. "Need you . . . "

He disconnects their lips and sits back. Hand dripping of water and foam, he leaves wet stains on the fabric of his shirt as he undoes it's buttons. "Im yours."

—

The girl blinks and the next thing she knows–she finds herself on the floor. A rug pulled beneath her back and a large palm beneath her head, he lays her down.

Even though the air is warm and clingy, goosebumps cover her skin as cold tile stick to her ass.

Leather groans as he pulls the belt loose of it's constraints and denim rustles as his pants hit the floor. Then, Joel kneels before her.

The girl cant take her eyes off him, it's a sight she can never tire of. She's seen him shirtless before, but the circumstances were different. He looks different now–in the pale light, removing his clothes with intimate intention. Perhaps it's her view of him that's changed. He looks softer, somehow. She's noticed glints of it before, when they talk and in the way he looks at her. But it never lasts long. She imagines this version of him prominent before the outbreak. His default setting. But now, for the first time in a long time, his guard is completely lowered.

"Ready?" He asks and kisses her forehead, tip prodding at her entrence.

She nods eagerly, the need for him pent up and ready to release in tears unless she can have him soon. "Im ready." Her voice breaks.

Deleting the space between them, Joel drives forward and enters her. They gasp, then smile. Eyes connected as they explore the shape of one another. He's big, but the girl takes him perfectly. "Fuck," she moans.

"Stop me if i hurt you," he tells her again, always conscious of her well-being. But she realises late that it was more of a warning. Because Joel pulls out, pauses and thrusts back into her. He laces their hands together, move them above her head and then strike into her again.

"Holy shi-" she cries out in surprise and sinks her nails sink into the back of his hands.

Targeting her neck, he kisses the soft spot above her collarbone. " 'M sorry . . . Need you so bad." Laboured breaths and deep moans hit her ear. They're finally close in the way she always dreamed of.

His thrusts are deep and strong, but never forceful. Dull twists of pain go through her side with each thrust, but the warm water has limbered her up. They're barely noticeable. Besides, she would never let anything pull this man out of her. Joel had been so diligent at prioritising her that she never registered his own needs. "No It- 's ok." The stuttering of their bodies puts pause between her words. " 'S good, feels so good."

Sinking teeth into her neck, he leaves love bites that will let everybody know who she belongs to.

She nuzzles his profile and kisses his ear, attempting to grab his attention as her hands do little good. "Let me touch you, Joel . . . Please." She rocks her hips to meet his thrusts, it's all she can do.

His member twitches inside her, the actions getting to him. "Bad idea, baby," he grunts, then lowers his body what little there's left and uses his weight to thrust deeper, simultaneously pinning her hips to the tile.

Frustration bubble up as her walls clench around him. "Please, please," she whimpers.

Joel staggers, hands reflexively squeezing her as he push them hard into the tiles. "Cant . . . I won't last long enough for you." He gathers himself and trails kisses up her neck–soft and expertly–until he reaches her lips.

"Joel." His name is barely audible as it falls from her lips, her panting and pitched tone make words difficult to convey. "C- mmh, cum inside me for all I care." Her teeth sink into his bottom lip. "Just let me get you there."

He relents with a breathy groan, taking some weight off her hips as his hands slip to her wrists. He gives them a final squeeze of dissatisfaction before realeasing and caging her in with his forearms.

"Thank you," she smiles and pecks his lips. But she has a goal in mind. The girl puts her hips in motion then wrap her legs around the snall of his back, pushing him deeper still. She wraps a hand around his neck to pull him in for a kiss, while the other finds his back to claw.

"Fuck." Joel's thrusts falter as he pushes into her hard. "Feels so nice, girl . . . 'M- mhh, gonna cum."

She smiles against his lips, tongues dancing around eachother. "Good."

"Want me inside?"

"Please."

Joel's pace stutters and he slams his fist into the floor as he spills into her core. The pleasure overwhelming him. "So fucking good, I love you, sweetheart," he pants.

Satisfaction floods her chest, heart beating thrice as quick by his words alone.

"I love you," he continues, placing kisses down her throat. Hands slide down her sides, grabbing her ribs as his lips attach to her breast.

She gasps. "Shit-- Joel, it's alright. I dont have to-"

He sucks the plush flesh inte his mouth while kneading the other. Not taking no for an answer.

The girl moans, back arching. "Now isn't the time to be stubborn," she teases, using his own words against him.

He smiles around her nipple, biting it softly before he travels south. His fingers dimple her thighs as he hooks them over his shoulders and the pair lock eyes. Smug, he smirks.

She rolls her eyes and smiles back. "Go on, then. Big guy." One would think the girl has learned to control her tongue around Joel, because getting smart with him always end with a valuable lesson.

"Smart mouth," he exhales, damp breath fanning over her cunt. The girl swallows, and then he dives in.

She has no idea how many women he's been with, even though hes aware of her short history with one or two at Jackson. No matter how long it's been, Joel's tongue has kept its experience.

Lapping and sucking, he attacks her clit. Licking a stripe trough her folds just to tease her while paying no mind to the seed spilling out of her core. He might spit it out or use it as lube. She cant tell, because its all too much.

She topples over the edge quicker than expected. But he doesn't stop. He has a lesson to teach and she to learn. Tears roll down her cheeks as stars cover her eyes. "Fuck, Joel," she mewls. "I get it, I get it."

He let's out a throaty chuckle and slips his tongue out of her core. "Good."

Catching her breath, she heaves herself up as he crawls onto her. Joel braces his knuckles into the tile, keeping his arms straight to level his head with hers. Leaning in, they smile in unified satisfaction as their lips connect. He tastes of salt, a mix of their juices.

"I love you, too."

#joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #dbf!joel miller #joel smut #dbf!joel #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine

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laceyfaeryy · 2 months ago

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FORGET ME NOTS

MDNI 18+

butcher! simon riley x florist! reader

౨ৎ⠀ׄ⠀. ━ retired! simon riley who is a butcher in a small town suddenly finds himself infatuated with the florist across the road who gave him flowers on national flower day.

note: context warnings apply to all parts, ones in bold apply to the current part - it will be updated consistently

cw: fem! reader . stalking . dom! simon riley x sub! reader

i. part 1 ii. part 2

it was unlike simon to keep something so… different to him in his dark shabby apartment.

the bouquet of forget me nots contrasting against the dark furniture and dimly lit room. it was the only source of colour in the sea of black and greys. simon was not a flower guy, never in his life has he held a bouquet of flowers until you. normally he would’ve thrown them out, but something about that felt almost blasphemous.

for the past few days he took care of the flowers like they were the most precious things.

placed in a glass vase near the windowsill where it bloomed under the sun. simon was never a fan of the sun, too bright so he kept his curtains closed at all times. but now he had them wide open, he couldn’t risk having the only gift from you wilting away. they seemed to be the only source of life in his bare bone apartment. a constant reminder of you.

his sudden interest took a darker turn into obsession.

he started to rethink about the interaction, remembering how you were giving our flowers in national flower day, which meant that he wasn’t the only one. the thought of that made him sick. just how many people did you give the flowers to? what if another man took an interest in you?

it’s been years, since someone gave simon attention. specifically one that was not superficial. you were too good for him, where the idea of his rough scarred hands that were responsible of the so many deaths on you felt like a sin.

you were so sweet, so innocent to the harsh realities of the world where he didn’t know if he wanted to hide and shelter you, or corrupt you beyond belief.

you didn’t know it, but he followed you home every night, closing his shop a little early just to match your routine. it was funny how oblivious you were, walking in the dark as if you were walking in a field of daisies.

simon was a fucked up man and he knew it.

after all, no man spends his whole life at the military and comes out sane.

simon treated it like a game, seeing just how close he could get to you without being caught. he felt like a predator stalking its prey, his large figure hidden in the shadows as his years of experience in the military was displayed through his stealth.

ghost, that’s what they called him back then. now instead of targeting those in the field, it was you. his sweet little thing that made flowers bloom wherever you walked,

you were just so clueless, he could just take you back to his house and have you be his pretty thing that he spoiled endlessly. the thought of that made his cock swell.

it was a fucked up fantasy and he knew it.

every night he would watch you disappear into your house, watching as the lights turned on as you continued with your usual routine.

kitchen to reheat dinner, living room to watch tv, then bathroom to shower.

simon didn’t know how how long he spent watching you, but he couldn’t get enough.

it was like a thirst he couldn’t quench, not by watching you in a distance anyways.

that was until friday night.

the sound of the bell ringing was a noise that simon was accustomed to, but the moment a sweet vanilla scent filled his nostrils he knew immediately.

“don’t know my cuts too well, but i liked whatever you gave me last week, could i have it again?” your voice soft as you looked up at him with those eyes. oh. those eyes he dreamt about, the eyes that made him feel like he was falling down in a rabbit hole.

those eyes.

“‘s called a rib eye birdie,” his accent thick as he tried to hide the fact that he already had the cut wrapped nicely just for you. the marbling perfect just for you.

“right, a rib eye,” you smiled softly as you reached for your wallet, simon shaking his head. “trust me, it’s on the house.”

to you simon seemed like a gentleman, not the man who fisted his cock to the thought of fucking you in the little flower shop of yours. you grinned, pearly whites on display that made simon’s cold heart flutter just a little more.

“thanks uh..” your head tilted as you read his name tag pinned to his black apron.

“simon.”

god, what he would do to hear you say that again.

“don’t worry about it birdie,” after all, what kind of man would he be if he left you hungry during these cold winter nights?

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#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x you #cod #simon ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley x f!reader #cod simon ghost riley #cod simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #ghost x f!reader

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miaoua3 · 10 months ago

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Stay The Morning?

Pairing: CEO! scoups x f!reader

Genre: shameless smut (MDNI), one night stand, meet cute, rich ceo x normal girl, morning after, the whole encounter described through flashbacks, mentions of previous cheating

Description: after your previous boyfriend cheated on you, your friends allowed you three weeks of mopping and self loathing before they drag you out of the house and into a bar. little did you know that a certain gentleman will be there and that he will change your world for a night

Note: i went out with my friends, we jokingly went to our local perfume shop, i found cheols perfume (hermes h24), it made me ovulate….bon appetit.

Warning: barely proofread, read at your own risk lmao

Part two: Stay The Night?

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

to say that walking in on your boyfriend and his coworker shagging in your own bed after you’ve decided to come home earlier to surprise him with a warm and delicious cooked meal messed you up a bit was an understatement.

his apologies fell on deaf ears, partly because you didn’t want to hear it and partly because a sudden ringing appeared to be echoing in the shell of your ear.

overcome with rage, you packed all of his stuff in some plastic bags from previous shopping trips, all while he tried to talk to you and explain that ‘it isn’t what it looks like’.

what a bucket full of bullshit.

deciding that 5 bags worth of stuff should last him a few days, you threw them in front of your door before pushing your now ex in the hallway too.

in his boxers only.

but then, your bravery seemed to have disappeared. while your ex was trying to make excuses explain to you the situation, you haven’t let yourself feel a single emotion other than rage and betrayal.

the moment you slammed the door in your ex’s face though, you felt all the emotions suddenly hit you and you crumbled, letting the tears fall down your face.

in these situations, you always find yourself doing the same thing.

and that is call your two best friends.

in the matter of minutes they were in front of your door, with all the necessities like ice cream and tissues.

and they comforted you. for the whole nights.

and the rest of the week.

and the week following that one.

and then third week week too.

well, at least, until friday evening.

at 6pm sharp, your friend, sana, unlocked the door and kicked them with her foot, your other friend jihyo not far behind her.

only to find you on your couch, watching tv with dead eyes, a bucket of ice cream on your lap (now mostly in a watery consistency).

at the sudden outburst, you looked at the direction of your front door with shocked eyes.

sana, having had enough of your bullshit, marched up to you and pulled you up by your arm, “okay that’s it, go take a shower, we’re going out, i have had it with your bullshit. god, you stink, when was the last time you at least put on deodorant, bro? disgusting.”

you, still being in shock, had little space to let out a complaint at her rambling, until she basically pushed you in the bathroom, making you trip over your own feet, before she closed the bathroom door in your face.

after a second, she yelled “oh and shave your legs and everything else, we are getting you laid tonight!”

by the tone of her voice, you knew that you had no choice but to do as she told you. knowing her, she would make the heavens move just to have her way.

an hour later, you were dressed in a little tight cherry red dress, your makeup done by your two friends, hair perfectly done, a black leather jacket resting on your shoulders, your arms intertwined with the arms of your friends, pulling you out of your apartment and down the stairs.

something in your stomach was telling you that that night wouldn’t go as your friend had imagined it. realising this, you raised your concerns.

“guys, while i really do appreciate this, and im sure we will have so much fun, i don’t think i will be sleeping with anyone tonight. it just feels too soon and im not sure if it would be a good idea for me to do that.”

sana scoffs and replies “girl please, your heart is in your vagina, and currently it is broken thanks to the dumbass that you decided to date even when I specifically told you not to, it just needs to be a big dick that will sprinkle some of its fairy dust on it and it will be as good as new-“, she tried to continue, but jihyo decided to interrupt her by letting go of your arm and using the same hand to reach behind your back and smack sana across the back of her head, full force, making her head fly down.

“stop spewing nonsense, even if we wanted to we can’t make her do anything she doesn’t want to do. plus, if she thinks it wouldn’t be a good idea then it probably isn’t, just because it would work for you doesn’t mean it would work for her.”, jihyo defends you as she intertwines your arms again and rubs the back of your hand with her other hand.

sana just mumbles “we will see about that” in response.

after a few minutes, you reach the bar that you visit semi-regularly aka whenever the stars align and all three of you happen to have a free day on the same day.

sitting at your usual place at the bar, sana orders for all of you before you can even try to protest about how you weren’t in a mood for heavy drinks.

as jihyo and sana are talking between themselves, you look around the bar, just to people watch for a bit, see everyone that is mingling in this bar.

and then you see him.

at the other end of the bar, there sat a man so beautiful it made all of those butterflies you felt on the way to the bar roar together into a chaos.

oh.

he’s so beautiful is the only thought that could cross your mind as you observed him. short black hair neatly styled in a way that it compliments all of his features, dark and thick eyebrows pulling your attention, big and plump lips set in a gentle smile. letting your eyes travel, they end up on his arms, observing how tight the black button up looks on him due to his buff physique. your wandering eyes come to his hands that are resting on the top of the counter, one crossed while the other is playing with the glass filled with dark liquor.

seeming that you have zero self control left, you let your eyes wander back up to his face, to admire the face that you could only describe as if it were sculpted by the gods themselves.

only to find his dark eyes already watching you.

quicker than a thunder, you turn your head towards your two friends again, feeling how hot your face feels due to being caught by the perfect stranger.

you try to go back to the conversation that your friends are having, as a distraction from the most perfect man that you have ever seen in your entire life.

what you fail to notice is that the stranger’s eyes stay on you, caressing your figure with his hot gaze, stopping every few seconds on one of your features, as a way to take not of every little detail and memorise it.

after half an hour, you finish your first drink (that tasted only mildly disgusting due to amount of alcohol it had in it). but it seems that with every sip you took, your self control would lessen and your eyes would stray in the direction of mr.perfect (as you started calling him in your head).

only to snap your head right back because he would already be looking at you, gentle smile playing on the edge of his lips.

the entire time you felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, excitement and nervousness. to be completely honest, you forgot how it felt to be excited to have got somebody’s whole attention on you, and to have your own attention solely focused on them.

all the butterflies you felt as you were walking to the bar seem to only duplicate with every little exchange of glances between you and mr.perfect.

just as you raised your hand to get the bartender’s attention, a deep “um, excuse me?” came from your right, making you pause your action to turn your head.

and your breath catches in your throat.

because one and only mr.perfect was standing right there, towering over you due to you sitting and him being so very tall, clad in all black, the sleeves of his black button up rolled up to his elbows, the first few buttons undone, giving you a peak to his strong and defined collarbones, a gentle smile teasing the edges of his mouth.

and his gaze.

oh his gaze was burning you from the intensity of it, making goosebumps arise on your skin.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues with a boyish smile “i was just wondering if i could buy you your next drink? it’s just that- i saw you across the room and i thought that you were absolutely beautiful, and my mom taught me that beautiful women should never pay for their own drinks a-and im rambling aren’t i?”, he finishes with a low chuckle, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

looking at him, it would seem that a cat got ahold of your tongue because you proceed to just stare at him, both of you waiting for you to say anything.

luckily, jihyo comes to your rescue, behind your shoulder smiles at the stranger and says “she would love to!”

breaking out of the trance, you look at her shortly to see her nodding her head encouragingly, before looking at the stranger again with a blushing face “um, yes, i’d really like that”.

he smiles at you, before calling the bartender over. you tell him your order before he directly gets to work.

as your drink is being made, the stranger smiles at you and puts out his hand for a handshake (his beautifully big, veiny and manly hand, adorned by a ring on his middle finger and an expensive watch on his writs) “my name is choi seungcheol, may i ask for yours?”

blushingly, you put your hand in his and introduce yourself. making some small talk, you learn that he is currently 29 years old, and that he’s here with some friends for a friend’s birthday.

just as you were about to ask him what he does for a living, your drink gets put in front of you, breaking the flow of the conversation.

seungcheol, seeing that the only reason why approached you is done, gets up from his sit next to you, “well, your drink is here, i’ll leave you ladies alone now, thank you for allowing me to pay for your drink, enjoy the rest of your night”. he smiles gently before he starts to go back to his friends.

you weren’t lying that alcohol messed with your self control, because in the time it took him to make three steps, you were up and out of your seat, way too loudly than necessary saying “um-!”.

hearing you behind him, he turns around and to see your flustered face, questionably looking at you.

seeing that the cat is already out of the bag and that you already embarrassed yourself as it is, you continue “y-you know, you could buy me the next drink too? o-or, well, you could just- you could offer me a longer conversation instead? um, actually, i-i’d prefer that to a drink.”, you finish with almost to none dignity left, your entire face burning from embarrassment.

seungcheol, in return just smiles.

and the butterflies go wild again.

oh, no.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

waking up, you notice that your room is suspiciously bright. like, way too bright for it to be your room.

the thought makes you jump and sit up automatically, only to notice the lack of the clothes on your body, making you pull the duvet over your chest.

looking around the room, you realise that you were in somebody else’s bed.

and looking to your right, you get the answer as to whose room it is.

seungcheol is sound asleep next to you, shirtless, laying on his stomach with his face turned towards you, his lips set in a cute little pout, his back muscles moving and flexing with every exhale that escapes his mouth.

and his back. oh. my. god.

there were nail scratches all over his back, making it look as if a wild cat had attacked him. but it wasn’t a cat that attacked him, was it now? no it was your doing.

looking around the room, you realise just how much more spacious it looks in the daylight. actually, everything about his condo is big and spacious (as well as everything about him-).

noting every little detail around the room and thinking about how much everything must’ve cost. but it probably didn’t make that much of a difference to him. no.

because choi seungcheol wasn’t just anybody.

he was a ceo of…some company whose name you can’t remember because you were…occupied with something else when he was explaining it to you (read: occupied by watching the veins in his forearms move with every move of his arms that he made).

the fact that he hid that from you up until the moment you walked into his condo makes you mentally scoff at your cluelessness, because who else would wear a watch that size if not a ceo of a company?

you were willing to ignore the big watch. you were even willing to ignore the ridiculously expensive-looking audi that he drove you in to his place. even the underground garage that he drove into.

but walking directly out of the lift and into the biggest condo you have ever since with the whole wall being just one giant window? oh, no way in hell were you going to let it slide.

turning around to look at him questionably, you feel his hand that’s on your back rub slow circles, and his smile turn into a sheepish one.

“so, just a businessman huh?”, you question his previous answer with a raised brow.

in return he chuckles, “well, i am a businessman technically, i just never mentioned that i was a ceo of a company”, he answers before he toes off his dress shoes and walks in what you were sure to be a kitchen.

you follow him, slowly observing the ginormous living room that you find yourself into, before stopping in front of the big window. his condo had to be the best in the whole of seoul, because the view that you are looking at right now is enough to leave you breathless. thousands of lights from all across the seoul make it look like the night sky.

after a minute you ask him “why didn’t you tell me what you really do? there wasn’t really a reason to hide something like that so i assume that you had a bigger reason for not telling me.”, you turn your head back to be able to see him clearly.

he stops pouring you two drinks for a moment, looks upwards with furrowed eyebrows for a moment, before looking at you with and with upmost sincerity answers “you just didn’t seem like the type of person who would care about things like that.”, he turns his head back to the glasses in front of him before he continues “plus, i was sitting in front of the most beautiful woman i have ever seen, i much rather talk about you and get to know you than talk about my boring work.”, he chuckles as he finishes his thought.

his answer was so simple, yet it got your breath catching in your throat.

you can’t remember the last time somebody really cared about you and who wanted to get to know you, to learn about all the little things about you.

your gaze finally falls on seungcheol’s back again, and on your artwork.

you feel the heat on your cheeks worsen, the longer you look at the marks on his big and muscular back. the heat to your face isn’t the only thing that looking at his back brings to you, but the memories of last night as well.

although your eyes are focused on the view in front of you, you can feel that seungcheol was walking slowly towards you, until he was standing directly behind you. slowly, you see his hand appear in front of your face, holding a glass of water. carefully, you take it from his hand, saying a quiet “thank you” before taking a little sip of the water.

you gently put the glass on the little table holding a vase to your left, before looking in front of you again.

ever so slowly, you feel him inch closer to you, until your back is brushing his firm chest. his smell has your mind clouded-he smells so good, not too strong like most men do, but just enough to have you taking a deeper whiff of it. such a pleasant smell, it had your eyelids closing in satisfaction on their own.

ever so lightly he places his hand in your hip, his hold on it getting firmer with each slow second. at this simple touch you find yourself gasping lowly, goosebumps raising on the skin of your arms.

you can tell by the precision of his moves and how he takes his time with each action of his what kind of lover he is. the type to make you feel safe and relaxed. the type that would put your pleasure in the first place. the gentle but firm type.

the type to be the best you have ever had.

another step, and his entire front is touching your entire back. there isn’t an inch of you that isn’t touching him. you can feel his breath on the back of your head, and your own coming to a still stand in your throat.

slowly, he moves his head until it’s right there, to your right. he lets his head dip a little lower, so his nose is grazing the skin of your shoulder and ever so lightly, takes a deep breath of your smell.

he inhales deeply, at the end of it a little groan rumbling in his chest. he then lets his instincts take over-slowly, he moves his head so his nose travels across your shoulder, up your neck (where for a few milliseconds you feel his lips brush across your skin too, making you gasp quietly), across your jawline, until his lips are right by your ear.

in what must be the deepest voice you have ever heard from a man, he whispers, “tell me to stop…”, he pauses, letting go of his self control for a moment and letting his lips leave a little kiss on the edge of your jawline, before he continues “…and i will stop”.

gone were all the thoughts from your head, which is probably why you find your head falling back on his shoulder, eyes closing on their own, feeling the lack of the air in your lungs getting to your head, and breathlessly, you say “don’t stop, please”.

which seemed to be enough for him, because in the next second he’s directing your face to his own with two fingers and kissing you like he’s dying, and you are the only antidote that could save him.

his tongue massages your own in such a meticulous manner, that it made a little moan escape you. quickly, you break the kiss for the second it takes you to turn around in his hold, not even realising that he now had both of his arms wrapped around your stomach, and kissing him with what must look like desperation to anybody else.

he sucks on your top lip for a bit, before he deepens your kiss, his hand flying up to hold your jaw in place, slowly turning your head a bit to the side so he can get even deeper.

you seem to be out of your mind, because your hand-all on its own- grabs ahold of his other hand that is resting on your back, and places it on the back of your head.

seeing what you probably must’ve wanted, seungcheol takes a second to push his hand into your hair. and then he pulls on it ever so lightly.

and then you moan loudly in his mouth.

and that seems to do it for him, because he groans deeply at your moan, before he breaks a kiss harshly to grab ahold of your thighs and pick you up as if you weighed nothing.

the action got you gasping, your legs automatically wrapping themselves around his hips. but before you had the time to tell him to put you down and that “you were too heavy”, he’s right back, kissing you like he was starving for it-starving for you.

with ease, he turns around and starts walking down the hall. but since he’s only a man, he gets a bit carried away, having to stop and push you against the wall, his kisses now fast and almost animalistic, travelling from your mouth, across your cheek and down your throat. at one harsher kiss to your skin on the neck, you let out a louder moan, which only fuelled his desire, his kisses getting faster, harsher, his tongue touching your skin with his open mouth kisses, the hold he had on your thighs getting tighter.

you couldn’t remember the last time you felt this wet, this satisfied, this hungry for more from a kiss alone. out of the window went all of your consciousness, your thoughts, the only thing that you knew at that moment were seungcheol and that you wanted him. more than you have ever wanted anything else.

gasping while he continues to attack your neck and collarbones, you moan a simple “more”.

and who was seungcheol to deprive his lady of what she wanted?

taking ahold of his actions, he gets a better grasp on your thighs, before he pushes you two away from the wall. in five big steps, he’s in front of his bedroom door, pushing them opened harshly with his foot, carrying you inside, before letting go of one of your legs to slam the door shut, all while still kissing you.

the thoughts that were playing in your mind like a movie got you slapping your face with both hands, covering your whole face with them.

not being able to sit still anymore, you gut up and out of the bed, quickly picking up a random shirt from the chair that was by the door, and out of the room.

you find yourself a bit lost, before you see the door to your left, on which stoop a sign that said “bathroom”. quickly, you run into the room and close the door behind yourself.

breathing out a sigh of relief, you look around to see just how ridiculously expensive the bathroom must look like.

and without any disappointment, the bathroom looks like it came straight out of somebody’s pinterest board- a big white bathtub to the left, to the right what must be the biggest shower you have ever seen, a toilet to the left in front of you, and a mirror so big there wouldn’t be a wall big enough to hang it in your own apartment. the tiles of the whole bathroom were this nice shade of beige, creating a harmony with the white furniture of the room.

noticing how badly you need to relieve yourself, you do yourself before getting up to wash your hands. as you finish, you look up to see just how bad your makeup must look.

and you gasp. because your whole neck is covered in hickeys, bigger part of them looking like they are connecting, making it look like one giant purple hickey that’s wrapped around your whole neck.

you just stand there for a second, in a loss for words as to how bad it looks. if you saw this sight on anybody else, you would think that they got mauled by a bear or some wild animal of sorts.

looking at the hickeys on your body got you blushing, and even more so as you remember how they came to be.

ever so gently, seungcheol puts you down on his big and fluffy bed. putting you down seemed to be the only thing he was going to do gently, because the very next second he’s basically pouncing on you, the kiss continuing after a brief moment it took him to lay you down. you feel his tongue battle with your own, before he pulls on your bottom lip with his own lips, lightly biting it to tease you just a little bit.

his hands go from resting next to your head to caressing your body, until they reach the hem of your dress. he breaks the kiss apart, starting to ask “can i-“.

but before he can finish the sentence, you are whining in his face, glossy eyes looking up at him “take it off, please, take it off take it off, please please please-“.

your begging seems to make him lose his mind just a bit more. quickly and with no care, as if he’s just as desperate to have this tight dress off of your body, he switches his hold to the straps of your dresss, harshly pulling it down your arms and chest, over your waist and over your hips, before giving it one final pull over your legs and tossing it over his shoulder.

for a moment, he sits on his heels and just observes you. he feels his chest tightening due to lack of oxygen, his heart beating so fast he thinks it could stop any moment.

your curves would get him kneeling in front of you if he wasn’t already doing so. and the little two piece lingerie- god, help him, for he is about to sin, big time.

he wanted to look at this sight for a bit longer, to have it embedded in his mind forever, but it seems that his girl is a bit impatient, because he feels your hand harshly pulling on his shirt and feels himself falling down on you before the sound of your whining even has the time to hit the shell of his ear.

you kiss him desperately, your hands everywhere- in his hair, on the nape of his neck, across his shoulders and scratching on his back.

all while whining and moaning in his mouth.

god help cheol if he wasn’t about to cum just from the pretty sounds you were making for him.

seeing as you weren’t willing to let him go, or stop kissing him for that matter, seungcheol opts to multitask and take his shirt off while still kissing you. the moment its off, your hands seem to have a mind of their own, travelling all over his back and shoulders before straying to his front, your firm touch traveling from his stomach to his chest.

deciding that he can’t wait anymore, he pulls on your underwear harshly, making them fly over his shoulder too, before he lets his lips leave open-mouth kisses over your neck, collarbones, chest, stopping for a bit to give you nipples a little nibble over your lacy bra, over your tummy, on your hip.

before he knows it, he finds himself laying between your legs, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes, his gaze hot enough to burn your skin.

he gently takes your thighs in his hands, before putting them on his shoulders. before he can even utter the words, you nod your head vigorously and enthusiastically, feeling your legs shake slightly at anticipation.

and then his mouth is on you. and you gasp.

he licks one long stripe from your hole to your clit, which he proceeds to suck onto lightly, making your hips buckle. his tongue then starts to lap at it, leaving little kitten licks on your clit.

your hand instinctively fly to his beautiful luscious hair, pulling on it, trying to getting him even closer if possible.

understanding what you want, seungcheol then lowers his mouth a bit, probing and pushing at your hole, twisting his tongue when entering you in ways you couldn’t think were humanly possible, sucking on your entrance every time before his tongue enters you again.

it’s embarrassing to admit, but you can confidently say that you have never been this close to the finish this fast.

which is why you try to pull him away by your hold on his hair. but he ignores your tugging, instead lets one of his hands that’s been holding your thigh travel up and take hold of one of your hands, before intertwining your hands and letting them rest on your hip.

such a simple action but it got your heart feeling so warm, you can for sure say that nobody ever made you feel this way by a simple action such as this one.

feeling your finish approaching quickly, you try to warn him, but he just looks at you with what looked like to be completely black eyes sternly, almost as if he was saying “don’t you dare stop me”.

and who were you to do as much?

suddenly, like a big wave, you feel the euphoria hit you, you back leaving the mattress, the hold you had on his hand and his hair tightening to the point you were sure must’ve hurt him, your thighs locking, squishing his face between them, all while moaning so loudly you were sure his neighbours were about to hate you.

seungcheol just continues to lap at your hole, drinking up every little drop of your cum as if it were nectar, closing his eyes in enjoyment, groaning as he makes sure to drink up everything you were giving him.

after a minute, you start feeling a bit overstimulated, whining in protest, which was seungcheol’s cue to stop. slowly detangling himself from your legs, he slowly climbs back up before he’s kissing you, your own taste greeting you on his tongue.

seungcheol breaks the kiss apart for a moment, his eyes as dark as night as he looks you directly in the eyes, before he asks you.

“are you ready to give me more, pretty girl?”

you again cover your blushing face with your hands, peeking just a bit between your fingers to look at yourself in the mirror.

seungcheol is so perfect, in every way possible, that you weren’t sure that he was real. maybe he was just a speck of your imagination, something you made up in your mind to make yourself feel better about your love life.

your hands slowly slide down your face as the reality of the situation starts to hit you, a sour look overtaking your expression.

seungcheol was so perfect. too perfect for you to have him.

knowing that talking to him again will just add salt to the injury, that it will make you realise just how out of your league he is, you decide that sneaking off would be for the best, for the both of you. after all, this was probably just a one time thing for him.

you bend down to pick up the shirt that you took from his room to put on until you find your dress, when suddenly, you feel a sharp cramp in your thighs, making you gasp.

you knew that you two went quite hard at it last night, but you didn’t think it would make walking hard for you the next day.

shyly, you peek at your thighs to see just how irritated the skin must look like, the recollection of the encounter yet again clouding your mind.

as you kiss, you feel one of his hands reach to the side before you hear him fumble with something, breaking the kiss so you both look at him struggling to find the condom in his nightstand.

after a few seconds he finally pulls out a pack, taking one out of the bunch before he pulls back entirely, sitting on his heels.

carefully he unbuttons his pants, pulling them and his underwear just enough for his cock go be freed. and oh god, if that wasn’t the biggest one you have ever had, he was so big and thick, it made goosebumps appear on your skin in anticipation. he rips the packaging with his teeth, and rolls it on himself, all while he still keeps the eye contact going.

seungcheol then lowers himself back onto you, before he teases your folds with his fingers.

in a raspy voice he says “your pussy got me so drunk that i forgot that i need to prep you before i fuck you”, and then he pushes one of his thick fingers in your hole, your gasp so loud in your own ears that normally it would make you feel embarrassed. he then continues “wouldn’t want to hurt my pretty girl when I’m supposed to be making you feel good, hm?”, he finishes and pushes another finger on the next time he pushes back inside of you.

if you had any mental strength left, you would’ve answered him, but there was literally nothing going on in your head other than how good his fingers felt, massaging your walls, scissoring you,his tumb gently massaging your clit in slow circles, pushing and pulling his fingers in a slow but steady pace, ever so often the til of his fingers grazing your g spot, making you moan in his face.

he fingers you as if he had tons of experience with your body, like he already knew how you liked it. and he does it all while looking at your face, his forehead slowly coming down to rest on your own.

after what you felt must’ve been hours when in reality it was just a few minutes, he seemed to be satisfied, pulling his fingers out completely.

and then he pushed the very same fingers inside of his mouth, eyebrows furrowing and eyes closing at your taste, humming in satisfaction as he licks his fingers clean.

you feel yourself clench as you watch him suck on his fingers. he looked like a god as he did it- his hair now messy and fluffy thanks to you, his expression looks like he’s having the best meal of his life, his tan skin glistening with sweat, his naked chest raising as he breathes in and out.

he looked so divine, it made you go just a little bit insane. just a bit.

he opens his dark eyes again, his face turning somewhat serious. seungcheol then slowly lowers himself down again, caging your head with his forearms that come to rest next to your head, making your entire focus shift to his eyes.

without much thought, you wrap your arms around his back, your legs locking themselves around his hips.

in the corner of your eye you see him his hand disappearing down, before you feel his cock teasing your folds, his head catching on your clit when he goes to pull it down back your folds. you gasp at this action, you eyes wanting to close themselves all on their own but your mind makes them stay open as you don’t want to miss a single thing.

his free hand comes to your face, pushing your hair back a little bit, before his tumb comes to wipe your bottom lip, your lips falling open on their own.

seungcheol caresses your cheek with the same tumb, and with gentle eyes and voice asks “ready?”.

to which you only nod your head slightly.

he smiles slightly before he lightly pinches your cheek “use your words, baby. i need to know you are 100% sure about this.”

a whispered ‘yes’ falls out of your mouth, your eyes in a trance with his own, the only things you are able to focus on are those chocolate orbs of his.

and then he’s pushing inside of you.

you both gasp at the burn, having difficulties fitting him inside of your tight hole.

his gasp turns into a rough growl, deeply saying “fuck, so tight, baby, you need to relax for me, otherwise i could hurt you”.

you try to listen to him, taking a deep breath in and out. kind of at the same time you both look down between yourselves.

only to see that he has only pushed his tip inside of you.

dear lord, may he help you survive this night.

as a minute passes by, you feel yourself slowly relax, seungcheol pushes himself a little bit more every few seconds until he’s completely bottoms out, his hips now touching yours.

he gives you a minute to relax, his hand gently rubbing your cheek, eyes lovingly looking at you.

as you give him a slight nod with your head, he slowly pulls out, before pushing back. he sets a slow pace for the start, carefully looking at your face for signs of discomfort, making your heart clench at his little signs of affection.

the pace continues for a few minutes, the thickness of his cock and how it massages your insides making you moan and him groan.

feeling like its not enough, you whine a little ‘more’ to him.

which was either the biggest mistake or the best decision of your life.

he quickens the movement of his hips slightly, the slapping of skin against skin now being added to the harmony that your moans and his groans were making.

his breath starts coming out heavier, the air that leaves his mouth lightly hitting your face as he’s fucking you.

you whine every time he pulls his hips back and moan every time he pushes them back, his cock repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

but it seems like you are so desperate for more, so insatiable, that you pull him closer to you with your hold around his shoulders, his face falling in the curve where your neck meets your shoulders, your own doing the very same, whining “more, please, give me more, i want more, please please please-“ directly in his ear, your eyes closing in pleasure.

seungcheol stops for second, making you whine in disappointment, takes ahold of your thighs to hitch your legs higher on his hips.

and then he doubles the speed of his hips.

he sets an insane pace, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, groans and deep moans falling out of his mouth. his dick feels so big, his head repeatedly hitting your spot, making your moans border on screams.

you can’t remember the last time you got fucked this good, and you were sure this will stay in your memory forever.

seungcheol continues with his merciless pace, your muscles clenching around him which in return makes him make more of those beautiful noises.

“you like that, baby? fuck, the noises you make- you are driving me insane. your pussy feels so tight- fuck, i can barely fit. and it’s so wet i- jesus. is this all for me? hm? so wet, just for me baby? fuck, i could fuck you for the rest of my life, never want to stop, want my dick inside of you all the time. you’d like that, wouldn’t you pretty girl? fuck- such a good girl-“

he continues to praise you and talk about you good you feel, how you are being such a good girl for him, and normally you would answer.

(un)fortunately, you have zero thoughts going on in your mind, only able to moan in his ear while he kisses and bites your shoulder, neck and collarbones, the sting barely noticeable in comparison to the slapping of the skin you feel on the back of your thighs. with extra effort, you successfully say through a moan “more, please, gimme more”.

seungcheol growls at this, before he pulls out completely out of you. he then harshly pulls you by your thighs and turns you over, pulling your hips up before you even have the time to let out a gasp. your chest that are now lacking all the air are touching the mattress while your ass is in the air, fully exposed to seungcheol’s eyes.

without any warning he slaps your right ass cheek, something between a scream and a moan flying out of your mouth. not giving you any time to even process the action, he’s already pushing his cock back inside of you, the new angle making the stretch feel even more delicious.

“fuck, my girl is so desperate huh? so desperate for this cock, moaning so prettily for me. fuck, you are going to be the death of me, you and this pussy”.

he basically lays himself on top of you, covering your whole body with his own, his firm chest pressed in your back, before he resumes his quick pace.

seungcheol pounds into you, so much so that you feel your pussy burn from the force of his hips that are slapping against it.

he continues to praise you but unfortunately you don’t hear anything anymore, only things that you can focus on is the delicious stretch of his dick and how it’s repeatedly hitting your g spot.

feeling your finish approaching quicker than expected, you moan out “im coming im coming im comi-“.

seeing that he is in the same boat, seungcheol groans in your ear, his hand quickly finding your own and intertwining your hands. squeezing your hands tightly, he growls in your ear “cum. cum for me pretty girl, fuck- make a mess on this dick”.

he uses his free hand to find your clit and rub it quickly.

and then you are screaming in pleasure. you feel your walls squeezing him harder than ever, milking him dry, which triggers his own release, a deep moan rumbling in his chest against your own back.

he fucks your slowly through both of your orgasms, your mind so cloudy that you don’t even feel the bite on your shoulder that he had to do in order to quiet down his own moans.

after a minute you feel your thighs shake slightly from overstimulation, lightly tapping him on his arm to stop, and he does. he stays inside as he uses his hand to slightly rub the side of your thigh in comfort.

as you try to regain your breath, you feel seungcheol kiss your cheek lightly like a feather, before he asks.

“ready to give me one more, baby?”

your cheeks burn as your thoughts take over your mind again. quickly shaking them off, you pull on the shirt over your head before leaving the bathroom.

as quietly as possible, you enter seungcheol’s room to find him still sleeping on his stomach, his back turned to you. sighing in relief, you make a quick search for your things.

as you pull on your dress from last night, you grimace at the fact that you will have to wear the same pair of panties from last night.

as you make sure that you have all of your things, you slowly head for the doors.

until a voice behind you stops you.

“leaving already?”.

you stop in your tracks before slowly turning around to see seungcheol looking at you through puffy eyes.

“yknow, if you wanted to leave in the morning, you could’ve just told me that last night, i would’ve prepared a car to drive you back, but i was under the impression that you were going to stay and have a breakfast with me”, he finishes as he lightly rubs his face.

you quickly look down, embarrassment and guilt washing over your face. you did want to stay, you wanted to stay for as long as he would let you, but you weren’t sure if that would be okay for him, or if you even deserved it.

seeing the expression on your face, seungcheol then asks, barely above the whisper, pleading looking at you.

“stay? please?”.

you quickly look up to see his gentle eyes, before you answer unsurely.

“would that really be okay with you? it’s just- i wasn’t sure if you wanted this to be a one time thing only or-or maybe- well, something more, so uh, i thought it be better to just leave a-and i-“

as you ramble, seungcheol feels his lips betray him as a small smile slowly gets bigger and bigger the longer you talk. deciding to make this easier for the both of you, he interrupts you.

“baby?”

you look at him with red cheeks, all and every thought you had evaporating from your mind.

seeing that he got your attention, he continues.

“take that dress off and get back in here, i want cuddles…and maybe something more.”

and who were you to deny him anything?

#seventeen #svt #svt x reader #fypシ #tumblr fyp #fypage #scoups #choi seungcheol #scoups x reader #smut #svt smut

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lay-z · 3 months ago

Text

those ties that bind us

SUMMARY: You choose a new pair of alphas over what you've come to know.

PAIRING: Poly!alpha!141 x omega!Reader x alpha!AleRudy

WARNINGS/INFO: 18+ MDNI | OMEGAVERSE AU | female!Reader; angst; a/b/o dynamics; hurt/comfort; cussing; smut; spit kink; bad Spanish translations; bonding; open end

Based on this little blurb. 🩶

You had a feeling it would happen someday if your packmates, the alphas who you’ve spent and shared most of your life with for the better part of the past three years, won’t finally make a move, make you theirs officially—but now that it happened eventually, you’re not quite sure how to tell them.

Perhaps you didn’t do enough? Didn’t make your intentions clear with none of them? The desire to be claimed, to belong, to be loved—always put off by Price, smiled at by Gaz, supported but never pursued by Soap, and straight up ignored by Ghost.

As you follow Simon and Johnny over the busy tarmac, your combat boots begin to feel heavy with each step you take that leads you further away from Alejandro and Rudy, the alphas who are now courting you and currently staying behind by the truck after saying their goodbyes to their foreign comrades.

Even then, you’d wondered if neither Simon nor Johnny found it odd when you chose not to say your own farewells to the other two alphas after finishing a successful operation, but again they stayed oblivious to the bond that has been blossoming between you and the Mexican soldiers since you’ve first stepped foot into Las Almas.

Just last night it was Alejandro who had told you that, perhaps it will be better if you’re the one to break the news to them, though assuring you: “We’ll always have your back, cariño,”.

And now, the harsh tug you’re currently experiencing deep down in your chest cavity, right behind your heart, only puts the last necessary nail in the coffin for you.

You’re staying.

As if on cue, your body works before your mind catches up—still both mentally and physically recovering from the mission—and you freeze in your steps, coming to an abrupt halt that causes Simon to glance over his shoulder, having noticed you in his peripherals like the vigilant alpha he is.

And it causes a chain reaction, when Johnny follows his leader's reaction, stopping dead in his tracks and following Simon’s line of vision until bright blue eyes settle on you, a puzzled look settling on his ruggedly chiselled face.

You speak up before either of them can: “This is goodbye... for now,” you tell them over the loud noises surrounding you on the airfield, and you try to keep your voice firm and steady, but it cracks at goodbye before your throat tightens painfully enough to make your eyes well up with tears.

Simon and Johnny share a long, meaningful look, having a full-on conversation with their eyes in a language you don’t speak like you’ve witnessed so many times before, and then they fully turn simultaneously before approaching you with purposeful steps that make you brace yourself for an argument.

“Whot’s tha’?” Simon asks, towering and gripping the straps of his bulky tac vest while tilting his masked head like a curious puppy. You know he’s just trying to give you another chance to change your words, but this time you won’t.

“Whaddaya mean by ‘goodbye’, bon?” Johnny chimes in, brows furrowed while his gaze flickers between you and then over your shoulder, eye narrowing as they land on their allies—friends—the alpha males still watching the scene unfold with crossed arms and squared shoulders—looking ready to step in any second if need be.

Johnny takes note of the sudden tension and dominance oozing off Alejandro and Rudy, how the comradery and friendliness from before has now seemingly disappeared soon as he and Simon approached you this time—as if they suddenly have a claim on you that your literal packmates don’t.

And just like that, it dawns on them like a physical blow to the chest.

Simon’s jaw clenches as he tries to reign in the rumbling growl building up in his chest while Johnny doesn’t bother to hide the snarl taking over his face, sharpening his features into something feral; both of their scents spiking in intensity, lacing the hot-humid air with sour pheromones, ready to scent mark and drag you onto the cargo plane with them if push comes to shove.

Your eyes widen at once, a deer caught in headlights, staring at the truck coming full speed at her.

“Ye’re comin’ home with us,” Johnny growls, gloved hands balling into tight fists at his sides to keep himself from simply snatching your wrist before Simon’s hand comes up to rest on his shoulder like a physical leash. “Easy there, Soap.”

Neither of them is angry with you, you can tell that much, but judging by their blown pupils and dominant stances, something strange is happening.

“I’m not coming with you. I’m–” Your heart thumps violently and your breath hitches momentarily, making it harder for you to get the words out as both men stare at you intensely, expecting you to make a choice that’d be in their favour.

But you’ve made your decision.

“I’m staying here... with Alejandro and Rudy. I have–I have already informed Price last night and asked for special leave,” you explain, fidgeting with your hands while your pulse thrums in your neck.

A strange sensation goes through your body as you speak those words; a buzzing energy rushing through your veins as you cut those emotional packbonds, now brittle by the years of neglect, to focus on the future waiting for you just a few yards away—a tiny seedling soaking up sunshine for the first time, finally stepping away from the trees who’ve drowned her in shadows, causing harm without even meaning to.

Johnny shakes his head slowly, disbelief settling on his face as the crease between his brows disappears, eyes softening. For a moment, it almost looks like something inside him shatters, as if he can feel it, too.

“No... please,” he breathes, reaching out to grasp your hand while his shoulders slouch. “Ye cannae jus’... do this, bon. Ye belong with us,” he squeezes your hand weakly, “–our wee omega.”

A soft whimper escapes your throat, one that has Alejandro and Rudy perk up with worry despite the distance, and one that makes Johnny’s eyes water—because he knows what it means. Your decision is final and it’s their own bloody fault.

They should’ve seen it coming, should’ve noticed the signs even amidst battle, and yet they didn’t; thinking they still had time.

“I’ll miss ye,” Johnny rasps before pulling you against his chest only to bury his face into your neck to inhale your sweet scent greedily, hoping it will brand itself into his nostrils—one last time. Warm blueberry tarte, honey-soaked linen, and freshly cut grass, a concoction now dulled by sadness, though still perfect, still—theirs. It makes his teeth itch to bite, to mark, and his chest feels heavy, unable to let you go just like that.

“Are ye sure, luv?” he mutters against your skin and his nose presses into your virgin scent gland in a way that makes you shiver. You nod meekly, eyes squeezed shut as you rub your face against his shirt, leaving your scent on him instinctively. Just for the flight home to make him feel better, you think. Always the good omega looking out for her pack.

“I’m sure,” you reply so quietly, you can barely hear it yourself. “It’s been inevitable from the moment I saw them... smelled them.”

You can’t see it, but your admission shatters them; cracks their ribcages open underneath their gear and stabs their hearts repeatedly until there’s nothing left but bloodied, torn muscle and shredded heartstrings—hurting even a cold one.

After another moment, Johnny releases you reluctantly; strong arms flexing with tension as they lower at his sides. He rests his forehead against yours, chuffs low in his throat—a quiet, sorrowful goodbye that rings in your ears until your tears drip down your cheeks.

He pulls back with a grimace when Simon squeezes his shoulder, like separating himself causes him physical pain, and he leaves your tears to be wiped away by your new alphas, though in every other situation, Johnny would’ve licked them off your skin with flagrant reverence.

“C’mon, Soap, ’s time to go,” Simon announces, giving his Sergeant a firm pat on the shoulder while his eyes never leave you. You peer up at him, head ducked with a hint of shame, tendons flexing in your neck at the tension.

Eventually, Johnny turns away with a pained snarl, speeding up the process like ripping off a band aid and pulling off scab, muttering profanities under his breath as he storms off towards the plane that will take them back to the UK—while Simon stays back, still staring down at you with those onyx eyes of his, though now they hold a kind of softness to them that leaves your whole system reeling.

“Lieutenant–” you rasp, and he huffs through his mask, making your jaw snap closed again.

His gloved hands come up to rest on your shoulders, the skeleton prints spanning wide, thumbs brushing your sensitive scent glands with a tenderness you’ve rarely experienced from him as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, hardshell mask pinching into your skin.

“...’s olways been you, pet.”

Your breath stutters, eyes fluttering as you try to process his words while your fingers tremble to reach out and claw into his tac vest to keep him close—keep his scent near, the one no omega before you has found as enticing as you.

Too much, too rigid, like ice shards and gasoline fumes jabbing into your lungs with each deep inhale, rather warning off any potential mate than drawing them in.

It made you feel safe and that’s all that ever mattered to him.

Simon lets you go with practiced ease, shoves down his feelings even though his alpha is snarling, thrashing and howling behind his mask of indifference, but he cannot contain the sound that tears out of his throat, thank god muffled by the cloth covering his mouth—husky and unpractised like blunt nails scraping over gravel, a puppy learning to communicate—something akin to a whine, a sound you’ve never heard him nor any of them make.

Your eyes widen, synapsis and instincts firing in your brain, hissing at you to soothe and purr for him, for the alpha you’ve dared to hurt—but then the dirt on the tarmac scrunches under his boots as he turns, leaving his broad back for you to look after while a swooping feeling in your stomach makes you nauseous, and you swallow your pathetic whines, having lost the right to call for them.

There’s an invisible snap and you swear you can hear it, like a cruciate rupture knocking the breath out of you, loud as a gunshot and nasty, leaving you behind with a limp and quivering lips as you watch them walk away from you, though you can see the slight hobble in their own heavy steps.

That night, your new alphas make sure to help you—not to forget but distract you from the pain of severing your packbond instead.

Though, it’s hardly merely the bond that has broken your heart.

They bring you to their private quarters, invite you into their den, a ranch house on vast land, many klicks away from Las Almas, and give you time until the sun sets, and nightfall cools the temperature to something more bearable, to settle in and sort out some of the internal chaos wreaking havoc and lacing your scent with a bitter smack of sadness.

It is obvious that you’ve loved them all—all four of them with equal ferocity. You would’ve taken a bullet for each one, you’ve tended to their wounds, the ones you can see and the one you don’t, took care of their emotional needs, made sure your shared nest was always comforting and warm to them—and for what? To be replaced if another, perhaps more beautiful, sweeter, and docile omega comes along to take the place you should have been given freely and with an urgency bordering on alpha possessiveness?

You have loved them in the dark and it was good—until someone else showed you what the light can truly look like.

It’s easy and effortless.

Your instincts are no burden but a relief to them; the fact that you come from the same line of work only fuelling their desire to make you theirs. They’ve shown it with their eyes, in the way their chests puff out as they inhale your scents, two pairs of rough hands itching to grab and grope and keep.

And just as they do in the field, Alejandro and Rudy work as a team to shed you of your material layers first before peeling away metaphorical ones—until they have stripped you naked of both cloth and invisible barriers, leaving you raw and exposed to them as they devour you whole, slow and methodically.

Their scents are strong and unapologetically wild, and it doesn’t take long until it seeps into your pores to stay; engulfing you in a comforting blanket of burnt blue agave, leaving a taste of finely aged tequila in the back of your throat, dried cloves, chili and cardamom, reminding you of a homecooked meal waiting for you, and the promising musk of their heady desires, hidden beneath a touch of violent smoke rising from the end of a gun barrel—a barrel now pointed at you.

“Yes, you should weep for them, querida,” Alejandro murmurs against your temple as he cradles you against his bare chest; all warm skin and chiselled muscles. “Makes it easier to let go and focus on what’s in front of you.”

The white curtains sweep as a soft breeze sweeps through the spacious bedroom, coming through the open floor-to-ceiling windows; moonlight illuminating the room in semi-darkness as you lounge on the bed.

Between your legs, Rudy hums in agreement, trailing languid, open-mouthed kisses up your supple legs while you spread for him willingly, giving him more space to explore.

“Agreed,” he breathes against your dewy skin, feeling your skin pebble with goosebumps under his tongue as he licks a slow stripe over the sensitive scent gland on the inside of your left thigh, so, so close to your glistening sex.

He groans at your taste and starts rutting against the mattress, grinding his hips slowely, breathing out: “Díos.”

Your legs quiver and you squirm in Alejandro’s arms, a mere bunny embraced by two wolfs, though perhaps you’ve never felt safer—more wanted—in your life.

A whimper leaves your lips, perspiration building above your furrowed brows.

“Are you–” you swallow hard, unsure if it’s too soon to ask. “Will you–”

Alejandro kisses your temple, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Of course, we will,” he assures you, nose trailing along your hairline, “–just not tonight. It would be too much for you.”

Before disappointment can settle into your gut like a parasite, like another worry adding to your fragile soul, a petulant pout forming on your lips, Rudy is quick to distract you again by parting your outer folds with deft fingers to expose the little treat resting at the top of your pussy, leaving you hot-faced and gasping.

“Pinche... es hermosa, Ale,” Rudy mumbles under his breath, thumb stroking over your swollen clit with unfamiliar reverence. “Voy a probar un poco.”

Your breath hitches while Alejandro smiles against your skull, strong hands roaming over your torso and settling right below the curve of your tits—squeezing and groping your giving flesh lightly as he feels your thumping heartbeat beneath his palms.

“Mi conejita,” he growls before nipping at your earlobe. “I will fuck you once Rudy has prepared you for my cock, yes? Tell me how much you’d like that, cariño–”

The term of endearment, so cute and innocent, followed by pure filth, makes your pulse spike and your pussy throb with its own heartbeat—and then Rudy leans in with a shameless groan to slowly lick and suck at your clit, and the world tips upside down like your eyes rolling back into your skull.

The night progresses in a whirlwind of earth-shattering orgasms and whispered promises—and they manage to keep your mind off the past, giving you but a taste of your new reality.

Rudy eats your cunt as feverishly as Johnny, though less messy and more precise, like he has all the time in the world to learn and explore—and you realize that he does when his teeth graze over the scent gland of your inner thighs again, scraping the sensitive surface with his teeth and lapping up your essence while Alejandro warns him to slow down, let you breathe.

The second-in-command finishes on the mattress, his tan skin sweat-slicked and panting, his ruddy cock spurting a massive load into the white sheets—simply from licking at your sex.

You coo at him when you catch your breath, fingers tugging at his black, fluffy hair to pull him in for a kiss while Alejandro manhandles your legs, pushes them apart and drapes one thigh over his hip as he shifts his weight behind your back for a better angle.

“That’s it, querida, kiss your man,” Alejandro growls, squeezing the back of your neck while he strokes his own prick from base to tip, exhaling a shaky breath when he coats himself in your succulent slick.

Rudy’s tongue is tangling with yours and you can taste yourself on his saliva; messy and passionate, you suck on his tongue with a sensual purr, half-lidded eyes drinking in his wrecked, pretty face.

Alejandro grunts as he lines himself up with your dripping hole, drooling tip dragging through your swollen folds. “Escupir en su boca, hermano,” he orders, voice rumbling with a growl that has you keening, and Rudy is swift to cup your jaw, keeping your mouth open, all too eager to follow his Colone’s orders.

Your breath comes in sharp pants as you stick your tongue out, a breathy moan spilling out your chest as Alejandro thrusts his fat cockhead past your entrance, sinking in an inch or two only to pull out and repeat, your velvety walls swallowing him up with greed.

“Joder,” he groans huskily, resting his forehead against the back of your head.

“Eyes on me, cariño,” Rudy chuckles, giving your jaw a small squeeze. “Feels good, no?” His tawny eyes crinkle at the corners as you nod with your tongue still out, your eyes nearly crossing from pleasure. “Heh, so cute.”

And then Rudy tips your head back against Alejandro’s broad shoulder, making the other alpha watch with his thick cock now nestled and twitching deep inside of your cunt, as he spits a generous glob of saliva into your mouth.

“Now swallow,” he croons before dragging his spit-shiny lips down the column of your throat, feeling it bob against his nose as you swallow obediently.

Alejandro snarls against your shoulder blade, pupils blown with searing lust and possessiveness at the teasing display between you and Rudy, and his hands settle on your hips, keeping you in place on his lap as he begins to thrust his hips up, driving his throbbing cock into your welcoming heat with unbridled need and liquid fire simmering in his veins, spreading like a wildfire as his balls draw up tight.

So close to your virgin scent gland on your neck, he huffs your sticky skin and bares his teeth while you’re blissfully unaware, making out with Rudy until the latter notices the shift in the other alpha—and he swiftly reaches out to grab a fistful of Alejandro’s sleek raven hair, tugging it back to make their eyes meet.

“Not tonight, boss. Tu mismo lo dijiste,” he reminds the older alpha pointedly.

Alejandro growls, then nods. He feels your walls flutter and tighten around his rutting shaft with another impending climax. They share a look, and Rudy tightens his grip with a curt nod—a silent promise to keep the other alpha from sinking his teeth into your mating gland in his ecstasy.

Not tonight, querida.

On another continent, now separated not only by distance but a broken packbond, Gaz paces inside the Captain Price’s office, deadly like an agitated jaguar in its too tiny enclosure.

“This is fuckin’ bullshit, Cap,” he repeats, snarling for the umpteenth time. “Absolute fuckin’ madness!”

His scent—usually so calm and fresh like mint leaves soaking in spring sunshine and fresh lemonade—has turned the air and atmosphere inside the office sour.

He stops right in front of Price’s cluttered desk, glaring at his trusted superior with blatant fury in his eyes as he braces his hands on the polished mahogany, leaning forward.

“How could you agree to this? How could you allow her to stay over there?! To leave our pack?!”

Behind his desk, John keeps his arms crossed tensely, jaw ticking as he clenches and unclenches it, his tongue dry and thick in his mouth as his mistake dawns on him.

The seasoned Captain made a decision with your wellbeing as his priority—always his priority—and now it’s biting him in the arse, becoming more of a simple graze like he’d expected. No, he can feel you slipping, can feel the bond severing, and it’s making him anxious, sad.

Sad. Downright depressed.

John hasn’t felt anything like this before, but he is still faring better than his Sergeant—who had no clue what was happening until he’d staggered into his office a few moments ago, clutching his chest as if someone had stabbed him with a combat knife, whinging like a pup in distress.

Bloody hell, he can’t imagine how Soap must be behaving right now—still stuck in a plane somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean; having only Ghost to turn to and soothe him. Fuck. It’s a bloody disaster.

“Gaz,” John sighs roughly, tries reasoning, “– it's her decision. I couldn’t deny her.”

“Deny her?” Gaz barks out a humourless laugh. it only agitates the younger alpha more. His eyes widen, his face twists into a dangerous snarl. “Fuck that, Captain!”

John has never quite seen him lose his composure like this. He rises from his chair with a warning growl, towers over the Sergeant and forcing him into submission, pulling both rank and dominance to ease the tension.

“That’s enough, Garrick,” he says, finality lacing his sharp tone. “She asked for special leave, nothing more–”

“We are losing her. Our omega. Our girl,” Gaz interrupts, though his voice has lost some of its burn. His jaw clenches as he grits his teeth, keeping his accusations inside as he regards his Captain with a hint of disappointment and desperation.

He swallows hard, feeling the bond continuing to dissipate; it feels like sand running through his hands and there is nothing he can do to stop it from leaving him. He knows that Price can feel it, too.

“I don’t know about you, but I cannot lose her, sir,” Gaz admits, brows furrowing with a distraught whine. “We were planning to make her ours, didn’t we? Or did that fucking plan change, too?”

There is a tense pause. John’s jaw ticks again and he rubs a hand over his coarse beard, sucking his teeth before he shakes his head slowly.

“No, son, it hasn’t.”

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vivimura · 4 months ago

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titty obsessed riki ─ nsfw, nudity, 0.853 k wc (bye this is so lazy), nipple piercings, big chested reader, requested, hope u like it tho :(

riki inhaled sharply as you removed your tee, those perfect tits bouncing slightly with the motion.

he stared at you silently, your piercings glinting in the light, those perfect peaks with pretty barbell piercings through them so close to his face he could lean forward and capture one into his mouth.

“pretty..” his voice was pure gravel, and his eyes were hungry. he slowly brought one hand up to trace the outline of one pierced nipple, making you shiver "god, these are hot as fuck..."

he slowly raised his other hand to cup both your tits carefully. soft. goddamn, they were so soft. he slowly ran his thumbs back and forth over your hardened nipples and piercings.

giggling softly at how utterly infatuated he seemed with your chest, you cricled your arms around his neck and dug your fingers into his hair, as if to motivate him to keep going.

he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to one of your nipples before sucking it into his mouth, his tongue playing with the barbell. his other hand kneaded the neglected gently.

you sighed, your face contorted into one of pleasure. the tension in your shoulders drooping, the subconscious frown on your forehead disappearing, instead being replaced by bliss. the soft hair of his bangs tickling against your chest and his clothed torso against your bare one felt so weirdly good.

riki tilted his head up at you through his long lashes, gauging your reaction. he watched your body carefully, noting how your back was slightly arched and your chest was pushed out towards him, as if you were offering yourself to him.

his hands began exploring the patterns of your ribcage, the soft skin of your stomach. he wrapped his lips around the cool metal and sucked gently, tugging on the piercing.

you let out a small hiss, followed by a breathy moan at his sudden action. your fingers dug into his hair further, guiding his mouth. “gently,” you quietly whined out.

his dick throbbed and twitched at your breathy moan. he softened his touch at your whimper and chuckled, lapping gently at the sensitive bud instead of pulling.

he gazed up at you with hooded eyes filled with a strange mix of lust and adoration, a smirk playing on his lips. "sensitive, baby?" he murmured against your chest, voice vibrating deliciously against your nipple.

“mhm..” you chuckled and rolled your eyes playfully at his teasing. just as you were about to speak, he pulled back slightly with a wet pop, blowing cool air over your wet, hardened nipple.

the action and cold sensation made you inhale sharply and exhale in the form of a whimper. your back began to arch further making your tits push further into his face, thighs subconsciously clamping in arousal.

riki noticed your reaction and a grin spread across his face. the fact that he could get you to be so reactive to his touches fueled his ego and desire to please you.

he leaned in and wrapped his lips around the other side, sucking gently at the bud and swirling his tongue around the metal bar. he pressed his thigh between your legs, applying gentle pressure.

his thigh pressing to your clothed heat relieved some of your arousal, but on the flip side, it made your craving for his touch maddeningly increase.

your nails slightly scraped into his scalp. his stimulation on your chest felt so damn good, not to mention his large hands caressing the soft skin of your sides and abdomen.

he wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from squirming too much, and pulled away to bury his face right between your chest. he playfully licked your sternum and inhaled your scent deeply, pushing his face into your pillowy chest, making you chuckle.

at the sound of your chuckle, he pressed his thigh harder against your clothed pussy, the friction making you squirm and whimper. you tugged at his hair, trying to pry his face away from your chest.

“riki, enough..”

he pulled back slightly to look at you, watching your breasts heave from arousal. he chuckled deeply and grinned. "enough what?" he asked softly, teasingly.

sighing a little out of impatience, you awkwardly mumbled out, "e-enough of... this," too shy to directly express your needs to take things further. you nibble on your lower lip and slightly ground on his thigh, hoping he’d catch the hint.

he chuckled at your shy attempt to get his attention, his eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. he leaned in and captured your lips in a soft, gentle kiss.

riki decided to take matters into his own hands, literally. as he kissed you, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and made you wrap your legs around his waist. with ease, he picked you up and kept you pressed against him, making you feel how is cock twitched in his pants.

he broke the kiss to look into your eyes with hunger and affection, keeping your chest pressed firmly against his as he walked towards the bedroom door, your hearts racing in sync from anticipation.

mlist comment, reblog & follow!

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sleepyhoon · 7 months ago

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TWO MOONS - L.HS

pairing. plug!heeseung x reader

genre. smut, 18+ content, one shot, drabble. MDNI!

word count. 4k+

warnings. drug & alcohol consumption, partying, swearing, sex while intoxicated, short smut [ dry humping, multiple orgasms, oral (f. receiving), fingering ]

synopsis. based off of this hard thought! plug!heeseung who likes you so much that he's convinced himself that you're kinda evil.

a/n. sorry this took so long lol hope u enjoy regardless :) no part 2 so plss dont request it but maybe some drabbles!! also not fully proofread so pls disregard any typos or grammatical errors hehe

Never in his life did Heeseung predict he’d be getting bitched around by a girl arguably much shorter, physically weaker, and far less intimidating than him. And yet here he was, shirtless in his kitchen at two in the morning on his third attempt of baking edibles all because you were too scared to smoke a little weed.

Fucking ridiculous.

It’s his own fault, really, he should’ve known that innocent, good girl persona you put on was all an act you use to control people – specifically men. Stirring the dessert batter in the mixing bowl, Heeseung shakes his head at the memory of you tilting your head and batting your eyelashes at him as you spoke, your perfectly manicured nails – that you probably got some desperate bitchboy to pay for – tracing and lightly scratching his bicep.

“So,” you started, dragging out the ‘o’, “how much do you charge for edibles?”

Heeseung shakes his head, tracing the rim of his half-empty red solo cup as he responds, “Edibles aren’t my forte. You don’t smoke?”

“Not my forte,” you say in a mocking tone, making Heeseung chuckle. “It’s just too much, you know? The smell, how quick it kicks in…not for me. But, uh, if you don’t make them I’ll stop wasting your time, then.” You give Heeseung a friendly pat on the shoulder before turning on your heels, fully prepared to disappear back into the party and find someone who actually meets your needs.

“Wait!” Heeseung stops you, tugging on your arm until you’re back to facing him. He can’t fucking believe this bullshit manipulation tactic you’re using on him is actually working, he’s literally pulling on your arm like a child so you won’t leave him.

You raise a brow at him as you wait for Heeseung to continue, taking note of his sudden nervousness, “Yeah?”

“Uh…are you into, like, brownies? Or…”

The smirk you gave in response said enough, you’ve got him exactly where you want him.

He’d spent the next few hours browsing the aisles of Target, checking his phone every so often and checking off each ingredient as he tossed them into the bright red shopping cart. To make matters worse, you hadn’t even requested normal brownies, you wanted some shit he’d hardly ever heard of before: blondies.

It was bad enough that Heeseung already couldn’t bake for shit, and here you were demanding he’d make something he’d never even tasted before; you really are a master manipulator.

His third and final attempt at baking the blondies were a success, his three roommates taste-testing the fresh batch as a final confirmation.

“I can’t even taste it,” Jake says, his brows shooting up in delight, “you sure you’re not forgetting the main ingredient?”

“That’s the whole point,” Heeseung explains, cutting the remaining batch into neat squares, “YN doesn’t want the taste to be too strong, she likes when it’s more subtle and takes awhile to kick in.”

“Are you her wife or her plug?” Sunghoon jokes from his spot on the couch, taking a small bite of his own blondie.

“Neither,” Jay inserts himself into the conversation, taking a seat next to Sunghoon, “I’m sure he wants to be both, though.”

“Fuck off,” Heeseung snaps, momentarily narrowing his eyes at his roommates. “We just met, I’m just trying to get to know her.” He sets the knife down, reaching into the wooden cabinet to retrieve ziplock bags.

“You’re already her bitch, what else is there to know?” Sunghoon half-jokes, resting his feet on the ottoman.

“I am not her bitch.”

He totally is, if the way he’s hurrying to send you a picture of the freshly made blondies is anything to go by.

Heeseung * 2:47 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] Yooo

YN * 9:06 AM

omggggg ur the fucking best how much??

You didn’t respond until the following morning, causing Heeseung to nearly jump out of his skin once he woke up to your texts. He turns on his side, elbow propped up against the mattress as he formulates a response.

Heeseung * 10:31 AM

1 for 10 or 2 for 15. venmo or cashapp But lmk if you want more

YN * 10:40 AM

no cash? :(

Heeseung’s about to go on a long winded explanation about how money transferring apps are quicker and more convenient than accepting cash when you interrupt him by sending a photo.

YN * 10:41 AM

[Attachment: 1 Image] plsssss i don’t trust cashapp and ive been having issues w my venmo acc :(

It’s a photo of the bottom half of your face, lips formed into a cute pout with your camera angled low enough to show off your cleavage. You weren’t even trying to be discreet, setting your forearm underneath your chest to make your boobs sit higher, the cheetah print material of your bra peeking out from under your too-small tank top.

Heeseung swallows hard, staring down at the photo with his pupils blown wide as his trembling fingers type out a response.

Heeseung * 10:50 AM

Actually you know what don’t even worry about it lmao Consider it a gift When r u free for pickup Or i can bring to u Either or is fine lol

YN * 10:59 AM

omg :o are u sure? don’t want u to lose out on money >.<

Heeseung * 11:11 AM

It’s fine dw about me baby U picking up? Or want me to drop off On campus is too risky

YN * 11:12 AM

thank u hee!!!!!!! im done with classes around 4:30 i’ll pick up around then if that works also u responded at 11:11…angel number u must be my angel :o

There you go again with your subtle manipulation tactics that Heeseung swears won’t work on him. If there really is angel out of the two of you, it definitely wouldn’t be you, but Heeseung’s not too sure he’d be considered one either. After all, in the twelve minutes it took him to respond to your message, he spent ten of them fucking into his fist as he stared at the photo you sent.

His mind conjured up countless scenarios; leaving hickeys and bite marks across your chest, slipping his dick between your tits as you held them together for him, cumming all over them, fucking anything. Desperate wasn’t even the word.

Heeseung * 11:13 AM

Must be :)

After a month and a half of being your personal baker slash bitchboy, Heeseung really is convinced that you’re using him, yet he doesn’t seem to mind. If anything he’s grateful, fully aware that if it weren’t for him being your plug, the two of you likely never would’ve crossed paths despite attending the same universities.

There wasn’t an ounce of school spirit in his body, so he had little to no urgency to attend any of the sporting events you cheered at or one of the many school-sponsored events you were required to attend. Meeting you at that party not too long ago had been his first encounter with you ever, and you clearly left him with a great first impression on him.

Since that night, he’s found himself conjuring up a new batch of edibles for you every week; brownies, cupcakes, cereal bars, whatever the fuck you wanted, and half the time he’d do it for free if it meant he got to give it to you in person.

He still hasn’t convinced you to actually smoke, though, but maybe it’s for the best. The mere thought of getting high with you and how you’d stare him down with half-lidded eyes was enough to make his dick hard — in fact, it already has. Several times.

Enough time has passed to the point where it’s obvious to everyone, yourself included, that Heeseung has genuine feelings for you that go beyond a physical and sexual attraction. Sure, he’s still convinced that you’re a little bit evil and definitely manipulative, but he considers it part of the fun. He’s also deluded himself into having the “I can fix her” mindset that he’s been using to justify his actions of ignoring your red flags.

However, even if he can’t “fix” you, it wouldn’t be a huge loss. Red is his favorite color, after all.

“You sound…crazy, and she sounds crazier,” Jake leans against the kitchen counter, raising a concerned brow at Heeseung as he takes a sip of his drink.

“I’m not crazy,” Heeseung corrects, “and YN is…I don’t know, honestly. Leave her alone, dipshit.”

Jake throws a hand up in defense, glaring when a fellow partygoer accidentally bumps into him, nearly causing him to spill his drink. “Rather be a dipshit than a bitchboy.” He mutters loud enough for Heeseung to hear before groaning, “Wow, speak of the devil.”

Heeseung turns, following Jake’s line of sight until he spots you walking through the front door. Stunning as always, your khaki mini skirt and black halter top fitting as if they were custom designed for you and only you.

Despite extending you an invitation to Sunghoon’s birthday party, Heeseung was fairly certain you wouldn’t show up tonight, assuming you’d be consumed with cheer practice or one of your many extracurricular activities to attend. Yet, here you were, a wicked grin on your face as you made eye contact with Heeseung.

He gulps in return, eyes wide as he watches you walk over to him and Jake.

You stand beside Heeseung, shooting him a quick smile before directing your attention to Jake, “Sunghoon! Happy birthday, king!”

Jake side-eyes you, briefly glancing at Heeseung before responding, “I’m not…you know what? Nevermind, thanks.” He takes this as an opportunity to exit the conversation, giving Heeseung a light pat on the shoulder as he leaves.

“Didn’t think you’d be here.” Heeseung comments, leaning against the kitchen countertop.

You shrug, “Wasn’t doing anything else, figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by for a little. Besides, I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah?” Heeseung asks, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

“Yeah,” you respond, taking a step closer and resting your hand on his bicep, “got anything for me?”

Fuck, Heeseung knew he should’ve made another batch of brownies or some shit. He seriously hadn’t been expecting you to show up tonight, otherwise he would’ve been prepared.

He shakes his head, “Not this time, you should’ve told me you were coming; I would’ve made something.”

You groan, momentarily tilting your head back, “I just wanted to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” his hand lands on your waist, pulling your body until your flush against him, “why won’t you just smoke with me?”

You grimace, shaking your head in response.

Heeseung rolls his eyes, “Just once? I know your first time wasn’t that great, but, I really think you’d like it if you tried again.”

“I don’t know, Hee…”

“Tell you what,” Heeseung starts, clearing his throat, “smoke with me just this once, and your next few purchases are on me.”

It isn’t much of an offer considering most of the shit he gave you was either free or already extremely discounted, but your eyes light up regardless. “Really?”

Heeseung nods, “I swear.”

You think it over for a moment, the pros instantly outweigh the cons and lead you to accept Heeseung’s desperate offer.

A few minutes later, you find yourself in a comfortable lounge chair with Heeseung in his backyard, grateful that the remaining partygoers opted to stay indoors, giving you privacy and alone time with him.

You’re sitting sideways on his lap, trying your best to ignore the feeling of his dick pressing right against your ass, neatly rolled blunt in one hand as he uses the other to fish a lighter from his pocket. “You’re nervous,” he comments.

You shake your head, “I’m not.”

“You are, I feel you shaking.”

“I’m fine, just kinda cold. Go on.”

Heeseung studies you for a moment, eye contact strong and intimidating as ever as he brings the blunt to his parted lips. You watch carefully as he brings the lighter towards the tip, focusing entirely too much on the concentrated look on his face as he lights it. Slowly, he begins to rotate it as the end continues to burn, taking a few small puffs here and there.

Satisfied with his creation, Heeseung takes a long, slow drag, inhaling the smoke into his lungs before titling his head away to exhale.

“Your turn,” he says, offering you the blunt.

You hesitantly stare down at it before accepting; it was intimidating to say the least, the scent alone strong enough to make your head hurt. Heeseung watches you patiently, eyes darting between your lips and the blunt in silence.

Deciding you need a little bit of encouragement, he brings his thumb to your lips, parting them slightly as his free-hand wraps around your wrist, “You’ll be fine, trust me.”

Under the guidance of his calloused hand, you finally bring the blunt up to your lips and briefly inhale before immediately exhaling.

Heeseung chuckles, shaking his head, “How’d that feel?”

You ponder for a moment, passing the blunt back to Heeseung, “I don’t feel anything. Literally nothing.”

“I mean, yeah, you didn’t even inhale it.”

You roll your eyes, “Why are there so many steps? This is why I prefer edibles.”

“I’m just showing you that you have other options, babe.”

“Yeah, well I’m sticking to my baked goods. You can have the rest of that, I don’t want anymore.”

Heeseung’s well aware that you’re a woman of your word, and the chances of you ever smoking again were a definite zero, so trying to get you to change your mind was pointless. However, there is one thing that may just work on you.

“Mind if I try something?”

You perk up, “Try what?”

“I do all the work but you still get high.”

You raise a brow, “That’s possible?”

He nods, “All you’d have to do is take deep breaths.”

Taking a deep breath, you accept Heeseung’s offer with a sigh, resting a hand on his shoulder as you adjust yourself on his lap. “Fine.”

Here goes nothing.

He guides the blunt back to his lips, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth. He tilts his head upward towards you, taking your chin in his hand, signaling for you to part your lips. You follow his command and part your lips open, just enough for Heeseung to close the distance and allow the smoke into your mouth, his lips barely brushing against yours in the process.

You take in a deep breath, eyes closed shut and inhale the smoke, careful not to exhale too quickly and have a repeat of your previous attempt.

“How was that?” Heeseung asks, taking note of your sudden silence.

Truthfully, it wasn’t bad. The smell is still too strong for your liking and requires much more effort than biting off a piece of dessert and calling it a day, but it wasn’t bad. You’re certain that Heeseung shotgunning it into your mouth only added to the experience.

“Not bad,” you admit, “probably because you did all the work.”

He chuckles at that, “I’ll always take care of you, remember that.”

Heeseung is having the time of his life, thoroughly convinced that he finally has some power over you. Here you were sitting on his lap in his backyard letting him blow smoke into your mouth. Sure, it may have taken a lot of convincing and begging on his end to get to this point, but none of that matters; baby steps are still movement.

As if the night couldn’t have gotten any better, you’re asking Heeseung to shotgun more smoke into your mouth over and over. He’s careful to maintain a calm and nonchalant demeanor as he does so, not wanting to come off as too eager out of fear of scaring you away. Or even worse, giving you back that power you have over him.

On the fifth time, you swipe your tongue across Heeseung’s bottom lip when he passes the smoke into your mouth, a low groan escaping from him in the process. He’s fully hard in his jeans by now, and there’s no way you can’t feel his dick pressing right into you. Despite the cold weather, your entire body feels warm all over, Heeseung only adding to the pleasure.

You should’ve taken Heeseung a bit more seriously when he said you’d still get high from this; after a few minutes, your limbs were already starting to feel lighter and weaker. A delicate, cloud-like haze fills your head; your vision blurs slightly and it takes a few minutes for you to fully relax.

Heeseung, attentive as ever, remains silent and still has he watches you; primarily due to the fact that you squirming around on his lap is only adding to the uncomfortable tightness in his jeans. One wrong move, and he’d surely be cumming in his boxers.

You rest your forehead against Heeseung, pressing a firm hand against his chest when he moves to blow more smoke into your mouth. He hums, staring up at with a concerned look on his face.

You close your eyes, mumbling, “Heeseung…”

He hums again in response, still holding the smoke in his mouth.

You open your eyes briefly before closing them again, balling up the collar of his shirt in your fist as you lean down to press your lips against his. He opens his mouth on instinct, as if it were a second nature, parting his lips slightly and exhaling the smoke into your mouth once again.

Heeseung absentmindedly sets the blunt down, his hands moving to your waist to pull you closer to him until your tits are pressed right up against his chest. He groans into your mouth at the feelings, tilting his head to allow himself further into your mouth.

You cup his face in your hands, hips moving forward as you slowly begin to grind yourself against him. “Fuck,” he moans in a low voice, “keep doing that.”

You grind down harsher this time, capturing his moan in your mouth in the process. With each movement of your hips, a shiver descends down your spine at the friction; Heeseung is painfully hard, and from what you could feel, he was definitely packing. Bigger than what you would’ve expected.

It all feels too good; you grinding against him, the state of his high, your tongue in his mouth. It’s all so overwhelmingly euphoric that Heeseung hardly realizes how close he is to literally cumming in his boxers.

His body was always overly sensitive whenever he got high, and often avoided any sort of intimacy that involved another person due to how embarrassingly quick he would finish, and tonight doesn't seem to be any different. What makes matters worse is the fact that Heeseung was already desperately attracted to you and had been dreaming of this moment since he’d first met you.

He pulls away quickly, cursing under his breath, “YN, h-hold on,” he stutters, “slow down, please.”

You don’t listen; in fact, you can barely even hear him with how caught up you were in your own head. “Hmm? Say that again?”

“S-slow – ah, fuck – slow down for a sec, baby.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and despite the urgency in his tone of wanting you to slow down, he makes no effort to still your hips move you off of him. Fuck it, it is what it is.

“Why?” You question, tilting your head, but you’re a few seconds too late.

Heeseung’s entire body shivers, hips jolting upwards as he comes on himself, making a mess of his boxers. While that alone was definitely embarrassing, Heeseung is more annoyed over the fact that you’ve regained your power over him. His priorities were definitely fucked, but he didn’t even care; he could clean himself up later, but the damage to his ego would take longer to repair.

Your hands fly to your mouth in shock, eyes widening as you process what’s just happened, “Oh, Heeseung…” you mumble into the palm of your hands.

He throws his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he runs a hand down his face, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding.”

“It’s okay! It happens! No big deal!” You try to reassure him, but it goes in one ear and out the other.

Sure it happens and maybe it isn’t a big deal, but it is for Heeseung. He’s not the type to bust a nut over someone squirming around in his lap for ten minutes, this shit was fucking insanity.

“I’m seriously not like this, I’m just overly-sensitive when I’m high. I swear, I-”

“It’s fine, Heeseung,” you interrupt, standing from his lap, “if anything, I’m flattered! Why don’t you, uh, get cleaned up and I’ll see you later?”

“YN, come on, don’t do this.” He pleads, following you and you make your way towards the sliding door.

“I told you, it’s fine! I’m not like,” you pause, opening the door with a loud grunt, “mad or weirded out or anything.”

You slip back into the living room, Heeseung hot on your tail with every step. “Let me make it up to you!”

You sigh, “Honestly, I don’t think you have it in you to do that right now.”

“I do! Just let me, please.”

“Heeseung, please drop it. I said it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine, at least let me eat you out or something!”

“Heeseung!” Your eyes widen at his lewd, shameless offer, “Lower your voice! We’re in a fucking party surrounded by people!”

He smacks his teeth, “I don’t care. Please, YN.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me, you do not owe me anything.”

A beat of silence passes, then he says, “Then do it for me. Please.”

Even though Heeseung was the one literally begging to go down for you, there is a possibility of him having some sort of power over you; or maybe you just have a soft spot for him. Either way, you end up lying in his bed twenty minutes later, skirt bunched up around your waist as Heeseung’s wet tongue circles your clit, desperate attempt at coaxing a second orgasm from you.

He hadn’t even realized he’d grown hard again just from eating you out, and would likely end up cuuming in his boxers again just from doing this.

“Fuck,” he moans into your folds, pulling away slightly to pepper kisses on your inner thighs, “been waiting so fucking long for this.”

“Yeah?” You question, your grip on Heeseung’s hair tightening.

This earns a low groan from him as he nods against your skin, “You have no idea.”

Deciding he’s spent enough time away from your cunt, his lips make their way back onto you; his tongue falls flat against you, dragging your wetness upwards towards your swollen clit before wrapping his lips around the sensitive bud.

Your body shivers, a beam of sweat dripping down your forehead as your second orgasm approaches. You’ve been eaten out before, countless times, but never like this. It was almost as if Heeseung was doing it for his own pleasure rather than your.

He teases your entrance with his finger before sliding two of them in with ease, curling them upwards and immediately hitting the spot you needed him the most.

“H-Heeseung…hold on…”

He hums, but he’s not really listening, too occupied with kitten-licking your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of you. The knot in your stomach finally snaps and you’re gushing against his hands and mouth, Heeseung only takes this as a sign to continue lapping at your cunt. You have to literally grab him by the hair and drag him away from you.

He stares up at you, pupils blown wide and his chin coated in your juices, but he definitely looks happy. “What?” he asks.

You struggle to catch your breath, “You’re hard again?”

He looks down at his crotch momentarily before shrugging, “I guess.”

“You…don’t you wanna do something about that?”

His eyes flash down to your cunt for a split second, “It can wait.”

You scoff, “Well, I need a minute.”

Heeseung nods in agreement, impatiently drumming his fingers on his bed as you flop against his mattress. “Ready?” He asks once a minute has passed.

“No.”

He sighs, then sighs again, and again and again until you let out a frustrated groan. “Go get me a glass of fucking water.”

“Okay!” He shouts while standing, exiting the bedroom in a hurry. Maybe you really do treat him like a bitchboy, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

#enhypen imagine #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #lee heeseung #lee heeseung imagine #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #kpop imagine #kpop smut #kpop scencario #jake sim #park sunghoon #park jongseong

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spideyjimin · 2 months ago

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Break my heart | jjk (teaser)

— pairing: fuckboy!jungkook x female reader

— genre: college au, roommates au, friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, kind of friends to enemies, and enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, and smut

— rating: 18+

— summary: jungkook, a mask, and a party. three things that made you weak enough to break all the rules of friendship. you did with him what you usually do with strangers… but he was never supposed to be a one-night stand. there’s too much history. too much comfort. and now, the aftermath of that wild and steamy night has made living with him unbearable, but also impossible to walk away. because you’re falling. fast. deep. and maybe deep enough to let each other break your own hearts.

— words: 535 for the teaser

— warnings: tension, flirting, strong language, and implied sex

— author’s note: soooo i've already worked on this & i'm posting the little teaser to give you a little taste of what's coming 🫣 this is the college au i teased you about some time ago & i've been working on it for a little while, but i don't know when it's going to be released. this fics is inspired by many shows and movies i've watched lately (because i've done only that for the past 2 months 😫) i hope you'll enjoy it ❤️

— you can find another teaser here

— join the taglist ✨

“Will you be home at two?” you ask as he walks past you.

“Why?” he says, opening the fridge and grabbing the milk like he couldn’t care less.

“Some guy is coming,” you answer, your eyes following his strong figure.

You watch his muscles flex as he reaches for a glass. It’s almost unfair how someone so infuriating can look that good. Buff. Strong. Dangerous in all the right ways. If he weren’t such an asshole, you might just let him ruin you again.

“Who?” he asks without looking at you.

“Why do you want to know?” you counter, eyes glued on him.

He avoids your gaze, pouring the milk like the carton suddenly became fascinating.

“Because you’re the one talking about it,” he mumbles

A devious smirk grows on your face as you step closer—dangerously close now. He straightens up, facing you, eyes finally locking with yours.

“Are you looking for a guy?” you ask, cocking your head with a teasing grin.

“What?” his scowl is immediate, and you try as hard as possible to repress the smile growing on your face.

You almost laugh at his expression. It’s ridiculous how easy it is to rile him up. But you hold it in. No cracks. Not yet. You're about to push him further. Annoying him is your new favorite pastime.

“I didn’t know you were gay,” you tease him.

Thank God he wasn’t drinking his milk. Otherwise, he would have choked. His brows draw together, clearly caught off guard.

“I’m not gay,” he says flatly, casually even, but his tone is clipped.

“Jungkook,” you shrug innocently. “You can be whoever you want. I support you, bestie.”

He rolls his eyes and drinks a sip of milk from the cup. Despite being annoyed, his heart skips a beat when you call him ‘bestie’. He hasn’t heard that nickname since that infamous night. You’ve called him jerk, asshole, idiot, stupid, fuckboy, dickhead, and many other things like that for the past three weeks.

“Why are you insisting?”

A little mustache of milk forms on his upper lip when he removes the cup. He looks absolutely adorable, like a little boy trapped in the body of a man who could destroy you with a single touch.

“Because I get it,” you smile. “I like men too.”

He wipes the milk mustache off with the back of his hand, but this time, the playful glint in his eyes disappears. He’s serious now.

“Stop it, yn,” his voice is sharp, like a warning. “You know I don’t like men.”

“Me?” you pretend to be innocent. “I don’t know anything. You’re very mysterious lately.”

Without a warning, he steps closer—your heart hammers in your chest with this sudden proximity. The air thickens between you, and you feel his hot and minty breath against your cheek. This reminds you of that wild night in the ballroom

“Yes, you do,” he whispers, voice dropping into something husky. His lips graze your ear. “And if you’ve forgotten, I can remind you.”

His fingers brush your cheek, sending shivers down your spine.

“I can make you moan my name again…” he pauses for a split second. “Or scream it, if you’d prefer.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #break my heart #teaser #spideyjimin

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alinathinkstoomuch · 4 months ago

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Filthy Flat-Pack Thoughts

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader summary: you had taken the day off to get yourself settled into your new apartment, not expecting hotch to show up at your door and offer a hand. warnings: suggestive, reader basically shoves her tits in hotch's face (you go girl!), hotch also catches reader in a towel, hotch being a gentleman (though not too gentlemanly because there's a filthy part two coming), like one cuss word, alcohol consumption. word count: 3.5k part 2 can be found here ✧ masterlist

You were pretty sure you’d maxed out every cuss word under the sun. If you spoke another language, you’d have burned through those swear words too. Guns? No problem. Paperwork? Manageable. Serial killers? Routine. But flat–pack furniture? That was where you met your match.

You had taken Friday off, thanks to your wonderful boss, who’d graciously allowed you the day. It had been a slow week, so you weren’t missing much – except your sanity. Because this damn bookshelf was out to get you.

The screw had slipped off the drill, skidded across the floor, and promptly disappeared into the abyss under your couch. Instead of hunting for it, you sighed, took another sip of your generously poured wine, and made a mental note to buy your new neighbours a bottle as an apology for all the yelling.

Just as you contemplated abandoning the bookshelf entirely and living amongst the scattered wooden panels like some modern art installation, there was a sharp knock at the door. You frowned, glancing at the time. You weren’t expecting anyone. In fact, barely anyone even had your new address.

Pulling open the door, you blinked up at Aaron Hotchner. Dressed in his usual suit, case file in hand, looking every bit the no–nonsense boss he was. Except instead of standing in the BAU bullpen, he was at your doorstep.

“Hotch? How did you –”

“Garcia,” he answered before you could finish.

Of course.

Your gaze dropped to the file in his hand, and you raised a brow. “This your version of a housewarming gift?”

“Consider it a reminder that work doesn’t stop just because you took the day off.” His voice was dry, but there was something in his expression – something amused – as his eyes trailed behind you.

He took in the mess of furniture, the scattered tools, the half–built bookshelf that somehow looked less assembled than when it arrived.

His lips twitched. “Do you need a hand?”

You needed his two hands somewhere where they weren’t supposed to be.

You cleared your throat, leaning against the doorframe like you weren’t having wildly inappropriate thoughts about your boss in the middle of your living room. It had to be the wine. Definitely the wine.

“I don’t know, Hotch. You any good with a drill?”

“I’m good with my hands.”

Your brain promptly short–circuited.

The squeak that slipped out of your mouth was completely involuntary and you just about covered it with a cough. Nope. No more wine. Never again.

He let the words hang there for half a second longer than necessary before stepping inside like he hadn’t just knocked the air from your lungs.

You shut the door behind him, barely registering the click as his gaze swept over the apartment, but you were too busy noticing something else entirely.

Like the fact that you were in nothing but leggings and a camisole. No bra. And the sudden draft from the door being open had done absolutely nothing to help your situation. Which was completely at odds with the heat now swimming under your skin as you watched Hotch – your boss – shrug off his jacket and roll up his sleeves with ease.

You stared. Really stared.

At his arms. At the way his fingers flexed as he pushed his sleeves up, forearms tensing, veins standing out in a way that was doing something entirely inappropriate to your already scattered thoughts.

You swallowed.

This was fine.

Totally fine.

Expect that was a lie. Because watching Aaron Hotchner, sleeves rolled up, tie slightly loosened, looking every bit the effortlessly competent man he was, was decidedly not fine.

“I assume this is supposed to resemble a bookshelf,” he mused, flipping through the instruction manual like it was a case file.

“That was the goal, yeah,” you muttered, trying not to hyper–fixate on the way he picked up a screwdriver.

“You were using the wrong screws,” he said matter–of–factly, turning the page and pointing to a very clear, very obvious diagram.

You crossed your arms. “No, I wasn’t.”

His expression didn’t change as he simply rotated the manual toward you.

You squinted.

Oh.

“Alright, maybe I was.”

He hummed in response, neither confirming nor denying your admission of defeat and got to work.

You sank onto the floor beside him, grabbing a stray screw in a desperate attempt to act normal. “So,” you began, determined to break whatever spell was settling between you, “is this why you really came by? To drop off paperwork and get roped into manual labour?”

He didn’t look up, but you caught the way his mouth quirked. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“No.”

His fingers paused before he resumed turning the screwdriver. “Garcia worries,” he admitted.

You scoffed. “Garcia meddles.”

“She was concerned about you being here alone.”

“I am an FBI agent, you know. I can handle a bookshelf.”

His line of sight flicked up to you then, slow and considering. “Can you?”

You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”

“I’m not implying anything,” he said smoothly. “I’m stating that you were using the wrong screws, the wrong drill bit, and judging by the manual placement, attempting to put one of these pieces in backwards.”

Your mouth fell open. “Okay, first of all—”

“You also swore at it,” he added, like that was solid proof of your failure.

You exhaled sharply. “You heard that?”

“I heard a lot of things.”

The way he said it sent heat creeping up the back of your neck. “Well, if you’re such an expert, feel free to take over whilst I fix myself something to drink.”

Before he could respond, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the kitchen, grabbing the already open bottle of wine and topping off your glass. Then on impulse, you poured another, just enough to finish the bottle.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but when you returned back, two glasses in hand, it felt like some sort of silent invitation you weren’t ready to acknowledge. But it was completely harmless, right?

Just a casual gesture. A simple offering to someone who had gone out of his way when he didn’t have to. You were just being a good hostess, thanking Hotch for the extra mile, when realistically, this was probably the last place he wanted to be on a Friday night.

Re–entering the living room, you set your own glass down near your spot before extending the other to him. Hotch lifted his eyes, gaze moving from the glass to your face as he raised a brow.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Its either we share, or I’d have to admit to finishing an entire bottle of wine by myself.”

“That’s very responsible.” He took the glass, his fingers brushing yours, the contact sending something sharp skittering down your spine.

“Guess Garcia was right to send you over.”

He didn’t reply. Instead, he lifted the glass to his lips, taking a slow sip, his eyes still locked onto yours over the rim.

Your stomach flipped. No – literally flipped. It felt like an entire theme park had set up shop inside you, rollercoasters and all. You swallowed, quickly lowering yourself back onto the floor, hoping that if you focused on something else – anything else – you could push past the fuzziness you felt.

“How can I help?” you asked, forcing a casual tone as Hotch set his glass aside.

He grabbed two of the wooden panels, fingers moving with that same precise efficiency that had definitely been an unfair distraction this evening. “Hold these in place while I put the screws in.”

You nodded, shifting on your knees to get a better angle.

“Here,” he murmured, adjusting one of the panels. “You need to hold this one higher.”

You complied, stretching a little too far in the process.

And that’s when it happened.

The movement tilted your chest forward – right into his space.

You froze.

And so did he.

The shift left you practically pressing against him, your camisole offering absolutely no barrier between the fact that his face was now far too close to your very braless predicament.

You caught the exact moment he realised it.

His grip on the screwdriver faltered for half a second. His breath hitched, just barely. And then – pointedly – he moved his eyes away, jaw tightening as if sheer willpower alone could erase what had just happened.

You should have moved. Should have said something. But you didn’t. Instead, some wild, definitely tipsy, possibly reckless, part of you decided to test just how composed the great Aaron Hotchner really was.

You shifted – just slightly. “Like this?”

His knuckles were going white. “Exactly like that.”

Your stomach flipped again, your mind taking that encouragement and running it into filthy places. Your pulse pounded in your ears as you watched him. His focus was locked on the bookshelf, or at least, that’s where it was supposed to be. But the stiff set of his shoulders, the sharp exhale through his nose, the way his grip tightened just a little too much around the screwdriver – none of it was subtle.

You really should move.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he made the deliberate choice not to look at you. Your lips parted, the tease on the tip of your tongue ready to push him just a little further, but before you could say a word, he spoke first.

“Hold still,” he muttered, adjusting the panel again.

But it wasn’t just his hands that moved this time. His knuckles brushed your ribs. The touch was light – so light it could’ve been nothing. But it didn’t feel like nothing. A sharp inhale slipped past your lips, barely audible, but enough.

His reaction was instant, his head tilted up, instinctive and automatic. Expect his gaze didn’t land where it should.

It landed lower.

Again.

Right where the thin fabric of your camisole left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Sorry,” you whispered as he quickly looked back down at his hands.

“You’re fine. Almost done.”

You should have been relieved, but you weren’t. Because now, it wasn’t just the wine that was intoxicating – it was him. The scent of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the sheer presence of him so close. It wrapped around you, all too much and not enough at the same time, making it impossible to think about anything else.

And suddenly, the thought of him being done with this – stepping back, putting distance between you – wasn’t something you wanted at all.

So you loosened your grip.

It was cruel, really. A calculated move disguised as clumsiness, using the precariously placed bookshelf as an excuse to move closer.

The panel slipped and everything happened fast – too fast.

You gasped as it wobbled out of place, throwing off your balance. Hotch’s hands shot out at the same time yours did, but the angle, the movement, all of it caused you to lose your balance. Your knees slipped beneath you as you stumbled forward, half into his lap.

His hands caught you instinctively, one gripping your waist, the other splayed against your back. The air left your lungs in a rush—not just from the fall, but from the feel of him beneath you.

Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling the rise and fall underneath your fingers. His grip tightened just a fraction, just enough. Not pulling you closer but not pushing you away either.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The world had gone utterly still. Your hands stayed planted on his chest, his warmth seeping through the fabric, while his fingers hovered at your waist – undecided, restrained and yet so very present.

“I know what you’re doing.”

Oh no.

Heat curled in your veins, your pulse hammering so loudly it drowned out everything else. “What exactly am I doing, Hotch?”

His breath was steady. Yours was not.

And then – so slow it was torturous – his thumb brushed against your side. This time, it wasn’t accidental. It was deliberate. He traced a barely-there path against your hip at the same moment your fingers curled against his chest, the fabric of his shirt bunching up.

He knew this was wrong. Knew he should move away, put space between you, remind himself that this was a line that could not – should not – be crossed.

But he didn’t move because you weren’t moving. Because your fingers curled tighter on his shirt and he could feel your breath ghosting against his skin, because your body – so impossibly close – wasn’t retreating.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted it to.

This had started out as nothing more than a simple visit. He’d barely hesitated when you asked for the day off. It had been a quiet week and you’d had enough on your plate between cases and moving. You’d earned the time.

But when Garcia had mentioned, a little too innocently, that you’d been tackling everything alone, something shifted in him. Maybe it was the excuse he needed. Or maybe it was the way he imagined you here on your own, frustrated, stressed and something in his chest tightened too much at the thought of you struggling.

He’d told himself he was just stopping by. Just bringing the files. Just checking in.

He hadn’t expected to find you you like this.

Cheeks flushed from the wine, eyes dark and full of something unreadable, dressed in a way that left his mouth dry.

And now you were in his lap.

Your skin was warm beneath his hands, your breaths shallow, lips parted ever so slightly.

“What is it that I’m doing, Hotch?” Your voice was barely a whisper now, lashes fluttering, the barest tilt of your head closing even more of the distance between you.

He wasn’t sure if you could feel the tension humming beneath his skin. And his restraint – the control he prided himself on, the discipline he’d spent years perfecting – became a fragile, splintering thing.

If you leaned in a fraction more, there would be nothing left to stop this. He wasn’t sure if that terrified him or if it was the most tempting thought he’d ever had.

It took everything in him to fight against the impulse, to loosen his grip, to exhale sharply and force distance where there was none.

“You’ve had a long day.” His voice was rougher than he wanted it to be.

You blinked, momentarily thrown. “What?”

His hands released you.

“And you’ve had too much to drink.”

Your eyes searched his, the teasing, playful edge now gone. Replaced with something else. Frustration? Disappointment? Hurt?

That nearly destroyed him.

But he had to do this because he knew you.

He knew you’d had a long week. Knew stress pushed you toward reckless choices. Knew the wine had stripped away just enough inhibition to let you push – to let you test him, to see what he would allow.

And God help him, he wanted to give in. But not like this. Not when he wasn’t sure if you’d wake up tomorrow and regret it.

“I will finish up here. You can go and get some rest.”

He heard you exhale, saw the tension in your shoulders shift like you wanted to argue. But then you reluctantly pulled back, dragging a hand down your face as if what you had just tried to do finally settled.

“I am so sorry I don’t know what I was thi–”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s alright.”

“No it’s not alright, I–”

He said your name, stopping you before you could spiral any further. Because the last thing he wanted was for you to feel embarrassed about something you both wanted, but just couldn’t have.

“I should shower,” you muttered, not even sure if you were speaking to him or yourself.

He nodded, already shifting his attention back to the damn bookshelf, pretending to focus on something else.

Something that wasn’t you.

You hesitated in the doorway, watching as he picked up the two panels. “You really don’t have to stay. It’s late and I can finish up tomorrow.”

“I don’t mind.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, dragging your feet toward the bathroom, your body still burning not just from the heat of the moment but from the sheer embarrassment curling in your stomach like a slow, humiliating ache.

What the hell had you been thinking?

You turned the shower on, letting the sound of running water drown out the chaos of your thoughts in your head.

You knew Hotch wasn’t the kind of man to cross that line, not like that. Not with you. And yet, you had still pushed him, only to end up rejected. The memory of it made you cringe, heat rising to your cheeks again.

You stepped under the hot spray, steam curling around you, and wished you could disappear into it – dissolve into nothing and escape the hole you had just dug yourself into. You contemplated what other career paths you could take because there was no way you were walking back into the BAU on Monday morning.

It wasn’t just the rejection that stung, it was the fact that he had been right. You had been drinking. You had been stressed, exhausted and overwhelmed.

But none of those things had made you do what you did. You couldn't blame them for the way you had leaned in, for the way you had tested him, for the way you wanted him.

Because the truth was, those feelings had been festering for months.

For him.

Your boss.

And now, you had just made everything so much worse.

By the time you finally shut the shower off – and racked up a hefty water bill in the process – your body felt clean, but your thoughts were still a mess. You wrapped yourself in a towel, sighing as you reached for the door handle.

And then—

A soft click.

The sound of the front door shutting.

Your stomach twisted. Of course he had left. You swallowed hard, pushing away the sudden tightness in your chest. You gripped the edge of your towel a little tighter as you cracked the bathroom door open, stepping out into the hallway.

The apartment was quiet as you padded toward the living room, heart sinking at the sight before you. The bookshelf was finished, not a single screw out of place. And the coffee table, that was finished too, every piece perfectly assembled.

But the room was empty.

Dragging a hand through your damp hair, you turned in a slow circle, scanning for any other sign of him. But there was nothing.

It wasn’t like you expected him to stay. You had all but thrown yourself at him tonight and he had done the right thing – the gentlemanly thing – by stopping it. And yet, standing there, wrapped in nothing but your towel, your home felt emptier than it had before.

You exhaled sharply, turning back toward the bathroom, ready to put on some clothes and pretend this night never happened. But the sound of the front door swinging open caused you to spin on your heel just in time to see Hotch stepping back inside.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

First, it was him catching you without a bra, and now he had walked in on you fresh out of the shower, wrapped in nothing but a towel that barely covered anything.

The moment his gaze landed on you, his entire body went rigid. His eyes flickered downward – just for a second – before he sucked a breath in, his nostrils flaring.

He immediately looked away, clearing his throat as he shut the door behind him like this wasn't the second time tonight you'd managed to put him in an impossible situation.

"I–" He hesitated, voice tight. Too tight. "I was just taking out the rubbish."

Of course he had. Because this man was nothing if not thoughtful.

“Thank you,” you managed, fingers gripping the towel tighter, holding onto it for dear life as you shifted awkwardly. “For everything, you really didn’t have to go through all the trouble.”

He didn’t respond right away but his eyes were back on you again. You caught the way they traced the delicate slope of your collarbone, down to where a single droplet of water clung to your skin before disappearing beneath the edge of your towel.

“I – I really am sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t be. There’s nothing you need to be sorry for.”

You nodded, your line of sight drifting to where his jacket hung over the back of a chair.

It was an excuse to move. To do something other than stand there, half–naked and vulnerable under his intense stare. You grabbed it with your free hand, clutching your towel tighter with the other, and made your way over to him.

Even as you stepped closer, you felt the weight of his eyes on you–watching, tracking.

“Don’t want to forget your jacket.” You held it out to him, but when his hand reached for it, his fingers skimming yours, his attention wasn’t on the jacket.

It was on you.

“Thanks. Get some rest.”

You nodded again, lips pressing together, forcing yourself to ignore the way your pulse wouldn’t settle.

And just like that, he turned to leave, the moment passing.

Or at least, that’s what you both told yourselves.

dividers by cafekitsune

#aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #ssa aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner x reader #mine🌟

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jungwnies · 5 months ago

Text

F1 Grid | valentines day

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerlc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested or not) : spending valentines day with your f1-boyfriend

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : tws : slight suggestive ୨ৎ : word count : 3927

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : happy valentines day to everyone! <3

ʚ・max verstappen

you weren’t expecting much for valentine’s day. it wasn’t that max didn’t love you—he absolutely did—but he wasn’t exactly the grand romantic gesture type. if anything, you were prepared for the day to come and go without so much as a mention.

that is, until christian horner made an offhand comment about how he was taking geri out for a fancy dinner.

“wait, valentine’s day is today?” max blurted, nearly dropping his red bull can.

lando, sitting beside him, snorted. “oh, mate—you’re so screwed.”

max bolted from his seat, leaving his engineer mid-sentence, and disappeared before anyone could even process what had happened.

you were home, lounging in one of max’s oversized hoodies, when your phone started buzzing with frantic texts from him.

max: are you home? max: never mind, you are. stay there. max: actually, don’t move. i’m coming.

you barely had time to process his sudden urgency before you heard the sound of his car pulling into the driveway at breakneck speed. moments later, he burst through the door, slightly out of breath, hair a little messy, and holding… a grocery store bouquet and a bag from a bakery down the street.

“hey,” he panted, trying to act casual but failing miserably. “happy valentine’s day.”

your eyes flicked to the half-crushed bouquet in his grip and then to the bag, which he handled like it contained the secret to world peace.

“did you forget?” you asked, crossing your arms but already grinning.

“no,” he lied. then, with a sigh, “okay, yes, but only because no one told me.”

you giggled, taking the slightly squished flowers from him. “max, the world has been advertising valentine’s day for weeks.”

“yeah, well, i don’t look at pink and red decorations and think oh, i should do something romantic,” he huffed. “but i fixed it, right?”

you peered into the bakery bag, pulling out a heart-shaped pastry, and smiled. “did you at least try it before buying?”

his face turned sheepish. “i got two. ate one on the way home.”

laughing, you tugged him down onto the couch beside you, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “it’s perfect, max. i don’t need anything fancy—just you.”

his shoulders relaxed as he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

“… good. because i really did panic-buy the flowers,” he admitted, making you burst out laughing.

he may have been chaotic, but he was your chaos, and honestly, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

from the moment february began, you knew lewis had something planned.

it started when he casually asked you one night, his voice soft but certain, "will you be my valentine?" as if you could possibly say no.

you laughed, setting your book aside. "you're asking me like we haven't been together for years."

"i know," he grinned, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "but you deserve to be asked properly."

and that was just the beginning.

by the time valentine's day arrived, you barely had to lift a finger.

when you woke up, there was a carefully wrapped box sitting on the edge of the bed, a note resting on top in lewis's elegant handwriting:

"good morning, my love. no need to stress about today. i have taken care of everything. wear this and be ready by seven. i will handle the rest. can't wait to see you. always yours, lewis."

you unfolded the tissue paper inside and found an outfit. the outfit. something effortlessly elegant, tailored to your style but with a touch of his own influence. he knew what would make you feel confident, comfortable, and beautiful.

a warmth bloomed in your chest. he had thought of everything.

when seven o'clock arrived, you stepped out of your room and found lewis waiting, looking devastatingly handsome in a custom suit. his eyes swept over you, appreciation lighting them up instantly.

"you look stunning," he murmured, stepping forward to take your hand.

"you picked it," you teased.

"doesn't make it any less true." he brought your fingers to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss there. "ready?"

"always."

the evening was a dream.

lewis had planned a private dinner at a breathtaking rooftop restaurant, candles flickering around you, soft jazz playing in the background. the menu had been curated just for you. your favorite dishes, a wine he knew you loved, even a dessert he had requested specifically because you once mentioned craving it months ago.

it was not just the grandeur of it all. it was him. the way he leaned in when you spoke, completely present. the way he reached across the table, tracing absentminded circles on the back of your hand. the way his eyes never left you, like he was still in awe after all this time.

"you really went all out, didn't you?" you mused, watching as he poured you another glass of wine.

lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "you deserve it. i wanted today to be perfect for you."

you smiled, heart full. "it already was the moment i woke up."

his fingers intertwined with yours, a soft look in his eyes. "i love you, you know."

"i know." you squeezed his hand. "i love you too, lewis."

and as the night carried on, filled with love, laughter, and little stolen kisses, you knew that no matter how much effort he put into the plans, what truly made the night special was simply him.

ʚ・george russell

george had been unusually secretive the past week.

nothing drastic, just little things. hushed phone calls, a knowing smirk when you asked about plans, and the way he would randomly glance at you with a quiet excitement in his eyes.

"you will see," was all he ever said.

and you did.

on valentine's day, just as the sky began to shift into soft hues of pink and orange, george pulled up to a secluded beach with a playful grin on his face.

"i thought we could do something different," he said, reaching over to squeeze your hand before hopping out of the car.

your eyes drifted over the shoreline, the gentle waves rolling in, and the salty breeze kissing your skin. there was no extravagant setup, no overwhelming display. just the sound of the ocean, the warmth of the setting sun, and george beside you, looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

"you planned this?" you asked, smiling as he grabbed a picnic basket from the backseat.

"of course," he said proudly. "i wanted something simple, just us. no distractions, no cameras, no fancy restaurants. just this."

your heart swelled as he led you to a cozy spot where he had set up a blanket in the sand, the basket filled with your favorite snacks and a bottle of wine.

as you sat together, watching the waves roll in, george draped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side. "i know it is not much, but i wanted today to be about you and me, not some over-the-top production."

you looked up at him, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes. "it is perfect, george."

his lips curved into a soft smile before he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "good. because there is nowhere else i would rather be than here with you."

the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the distant sound of the waves lulling you into a peaceful state. at one point, george pulled out his phone and played a song quietly through the speaker, a mellow tune that matched the peaceful ambiance of the beach.

"dance with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

you let out a small laugh. "there is no music loud enough to dance to."

"we do not need loud music," he said, pulling you up anyway. "just trust me."

and so you did.

you swayed together under the dimming sky, bare feet sinking into the cool sand, his arms wrapped securely around you. it was simple. it was intimate. it was everything you never knew you needed.

as the last bit of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, george whispered, "happy valentine's day, love."

resting your head against his chest, you smiled. "happy valentine's day, george."

and in that moment, with nothing but the sound of the waves and the warmth of his embrace, you knew that this was love in its purest form.

ʚ・carlos sainz

carlos had always been charming. but tonight, he was on another level.

from the moment he picked you up, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look impossibly handsome, you knew he had something special planned. his smirk was dangerous, the kind that sent warmth through your entire body.

“you look stunning, mi amor,” he murmured, leaning in just a little too close as his lips brushed your cheek. his cologne lingered, warm and intoxicating. “i almost want to skip dinner and keep you all to myself.”

you rolled your eyes, though your heart skipped a beat. “behave.”

“i make no promises,” he teased, leading you to the car.

the restaurant was one of your favorites, a cozy yet elegant spot that carlos had somehow managed to book despite its usual months-long waiting list.

the moment you were seated, he reached across the table, fingers brushing over yours as he gazed at you with that signature, lazy smirk. “i think i am already full just looking at you.”

you laughed, shaking your head. “that was terrible.”

“but did it work?” he asked, lifting your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it slowly, deliberately.

your skin tingled. “maybe a little.”

he grinned. “good.”

throughout dinner, he was extra attentive, making sure you had everything you wanted. his knee brushed against yours under the table, his voice dipped lower whenever he leaned in to whisper something just for you, and his fingers traced light patterns along your wrist whenever he held your hand.

at one point, he tilted his head, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he murmured, his voice soft but deep. “i just love watching you when you are happy.”

your heart fluttered. “carlos.”

his smirk returned. “what? it is true.” he took a slow sip of his wine, eyes never leaving yours. “besides, i like to remind you how completely, hopelessly in love with you i am.”

your stomach flipped. “you are really pulling out all the stops tonight, huh?”

he leaned in slightly, voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “only because i know what it does to you.”

your breath hitched. “you are unbelievable.”

he smirked, fingers brushing over yours again. “and yet, you love me anyway.”

you sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but there was no denying the warmth spreading through your chest. “unfortunately.”

carlos chuckled, shaking his head. “i think you mean luckily.”

you looked at him, taking in the way his dark eyes burned with something deeper than just playful flirtation. beneath the teasing, beneath the smooth confidence, there was love. real, undeniable love.

and it was all for you.

as dinner came to an end, he reached for your hand again, tracing slow circles against your palm. “do you want dessert?”

you tilted your head. “are you actually talking about dessert, or is this another one of your lines?”

his lips twitched. “would you be disappointed if it was?”

you shook your head, laughing softly. “no.”

his fingers laced with yours as he brought your hand to his lips once more, voice low and full of promise.

“good.”

ʚ・charles leclerc

charles had monaco at his fingertips. it was beautiful, luxurious, and full of charm, just like him. but when valentine’s day approached, he surprised you with something unexpected.

“we are going to paris,” he had said casually over breakfast, sipping his coffee like he had not just dropped the most romantic idea possible.

your eyes widened. “paris? you live in monaco, one of the most beautiful places in the world, and you’re taking me to paris?”

he smirked, setting his cup down before leaning in. “everyone knows paris is for lovers, mon amour. and i want to spoil you properly.”

and he did.

the moment you landed, you felt the shift.

paris had its own kind of magic, the kind that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. the air smelled of fresh bread and soft rain, the streets alive with quiet charm. charles took your hand effortlessly, like he was meant to hold it, leading you through the city as if he had been born to love it, just as he had been born to love you.

the morning was slow and sweet, starting with a walk along the seine. he held your hand the entire time, stopping occasionally just to press a kiss to your temple, or to murmur something in french that he knew would make you blush.

“say something else,” you teased, smiling up at him.

he leaned in, lips brushing against your ear. “tu es la plus belle chose que j’ai jamais vue.”

you shivered at the way his voice dropped, the way his breath was warm against your skin. “and what does that mean?”

he smirked, tugging you just a little closer. “it means you are the most beautiful thing i have ever seen.”

your heart flipped in your chest. “you are too good at this.”

“i am only good at this because it is you.”

he spent the afternoon showing you his favorite hidden spots. a small café tucked away from the crowds, where he ordered for you effortlessly in french, his accent rolling off his tongue like silk. a bookshop near the notre-dame, where he traced his fingers over the spines of old novels, claiming he was looking for something special to remember this trip by.

“i do not need souvenirs,” he said, slipping his arm around your waist. “you are the only thing i want to remember.”

by the time evening arrived, he had one final surprise.

he took you to the eiffel tower just as the sun was setting, the sky painted in soft pinks and golds. as the lights flickered to life, he turned to you, his hands resting firmly on your waist.

“beautiful,” he murmured.

“the view?” you teased, even though you already knew the answer.

he shook his head slowly. “you.”

your breath caught in your throat as he reached for you, his lips finding yours in a slow, lingering kiss. there was no rush, no urgency. just the feeling of being completely and utterly his, surrounded by the city of love, under the lights of paris.

his hands slid to the small of your back, fingers tracing lazy circles as he deepened the kiss. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, “you taste sweeter than any wine.”

your cheeks warmed, but before you could reply, he kissed you again, this time with just a hint of teasing, just enough to make your heart race.

by the time you arrived at the hotel, paris had already left you breathless.

the suite was stunning, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the glittering city, warm candlelight flickering against the walls, and soft rose petals scattered across the bed.

you turned to charles, who was watching you with something unreadable in his gaze. “you really thought of everything.”

his smirk was slow, deliberate. “i always do.”

you stepped closer, hands resting against his chest. “why paris?” you asked, voice soft.

his hands found your waist easily, like he had been waiting for this moment all night. “because it is the most romantic city in the world.” his voice dropped slightly, eyes darkening as he pulled you even closer. “and because i wanted to make sure you never forget tonight.”

your pulse quickened as his fingers traced slow patterns along your lower back, his lips brushing just below your ear.

“i have given you paris,” he murmured, voice warm and deep. “now, i only want to give you me.”

his lips ghosted over your skin, teasing, lingering, waiting.

the night was still young.

ʚ・lando norris

you were this close to losing it.

sitting on your couch, phone in hand, you stared at the screen, thumb hovering over lando’s contact. it was nearly eight in the evening on valentine’s day, and there had been no text, no call, no nothing.

no “happy valentine’s, love.” no “can’t wait to see you.” not even a dumb meme.

you waited all day, giving him the benefit of the doubt. maybe he was busy. maybe he had something planned. maybe he forgot.

your blood simmered at that last thought. oh, if he forgot…

you hit the call button, heart pounding as it rang. once. twice. straight to voicemail.

“oh, hell no.”

you stood up, pacing the living room, preparing the argument in your head. you would start off calm. hey, babe, just wondering if you forgot a certain very important day? then you’d get passive-aggressive. wow, imagine forgetting your girlfriend exists. and if he dared to laugh, you would go full dramatic mode. maybe i should date someone who actually remembers i exist. maybe oscar piastri wouldn’t forget.

but before you could dial again, the doorbell rang.

you blinked, still mid-rant in your head. slowly, you walked over, swinging the door open, fully prepared to go off—

and there he was.

lando stood on your doorstep, slightly out of breath, holding entirely too many things at once. a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a bag of takeout from your favorite restaurant, a small wrapped box, and a guilty, breathless grin on his face.

"hi," he said sheepishly, eyes twinkling.

you crossed your arms, biting back a smile. "you forgot, didn’t you?"

his jaw dropped in mock offense. "never!"

you gave him a pointed look. "then why do you look like you just ran a marathon?"

"because someone’s favorite restaurant takes forever to prepare food," he said, stepping inside as you moved aside. he held up the takeout bag like a trophy. "i have been standing in line for an hour. an hour, babe. do you know how many people are out there trying to get last-minute valentine's dinners? it’s war out there."

you snorted, shaking your head. "you could’ve at least texted me, lando. i was this close to picking a fight with you."

"believe me, i know," he muttered, placing everything down on the table. "i saw the missed call and almost died because i knew you were about to go nuclear on me."

you rolled your eyes as he unwrapped the takeout, the smell filling the room instantly. he grinned at your reaction, knowing full well how much you loved it.

"see?" he said, handing you a pair of chopsticks. "you thought i forgot, but really, i was just out here being the best boyfriend ever."

you raised an eyebrow. "you sure about that?"

he smirked. "mostly."

you shook your head, but when he grabbed a flower from the bouquet and tucked it gently behind your ear, your heart melted just a little.

"you do look really cute when you're mad, though," he added, grinning.

"lando," you warned, but he just laughed, pulling you onto the couch with him.

as you both started eating, he kept sneaking little bites of your food, dodging your half-hearted swats, grinning every time he managed to steal some.

"you're literally eating the same thing," you huffed.

"yeah, but yours tastes better."

"you are insufferable."

"and yet, here you are," he teased, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. "still mad at me?"

you sighed dramatically, resting your head against him. "i mean… i was really looking forward to yelling at you."

he chuckled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "i know. next time, i’ll text you, my bad."

"next time?" you repeated, raising an eyebrow.

he winked. "next time i make you think i forgot."

you gasped, smacking his arm as he burst into laughter, dodging you like an overgrown child.

eventually, you both settled down, tangled together on the couch, sharing food, jokes, and soft kisses in between.

and despite all your earlier frustration, you realized you wouldn’t trade this for anything.

ʚ・oscar piastri

valentine’s day was meant to be easy this year.

no over-the-top plans, no rushing to a fancy restaurant, no stress about whether a reservation would fall through. just you and oscar, a quiet night in, and the simple comfort of being together.

you had both agreed on it weeks ago, sitting in bed one night when he casually asked, “so, what do you wanna do for valentine’s?”

you had shrugged, leaning against him. “something simple. movies, dinner at home, just us.”

his response had been instant. “perfect.”

and now, as you stood in the kitchen, stirring the sauce for dinner while music played softly in the background, you couldn’t imagine anything more perfect.

oscar walked in, freshly showered, his hair still damp as he leaned against the counter, watching you with a lazy smile.

“you need help?” he asked, even though you both knew the answer.

“you just want an excuse to mess around,” you teased, throwing him a knowing glance.

he gasped in mock offense. “i would never.”

raising an eyebrow, you pointed at him with the spoon. “like last time, when you ‘helped’ by stealing half the ingredients and eating them before they even made it into the dish?”

he grinned unapologetically. “that was a tactical decision.”

laughing, you turned back to the stove, stirring the sauce as he moved behind you, arms sneaking around your waist. he rested his chin on your shoulder, watching over you like he was actually involved in the process.

“this is nice,” he murmured.

you smiled, leaning back against him. “told you. low-key is the way to go.”

he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before pulling away. “alright, chef, what do i do?”

you handed him a cutting board with some vegetables to chop. “here. real help this time.”

he got to work, surprisingly efficient, only occasionally making faces at the onions like they had personally offended him.

by the time dinner was ready, the two of you set up in the living room, plates in hand, a blanket tossed lazily over your legs. the movie had barely started when you noticed oscar already halfway through his meal, focused but relaxed, like he was completely at home in this moment.

and, really, he was.

the two of you were tangled together on the couch, comfortable in the quiet moments, sneaking bites from each other’s plates, sharing knowing glances when something ridiculous happened in the movie.

at one point, he nudged you. “are you actually watching, or are you just staring at me?”

you smirked, setting your plate down. “maybe both.”

he huffed a laugh, shifting to face you fully. “well, if you’re gonna stare, at least make yourself useful.”

before you could ask what he meant, he pulled you closer, pressing his lips softly against yours. it was slow, unrushed, just like the night itself.

his hand found its way to your cheek, thumb tracing light patterns as he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“happy valentine’s,” he whispered.

you smiled, brushing your nose against his. “happy valentine’s, oscar.”

he sighed contently, pulling you even closer as the movie played on, forgotten.

and in that moment, you realized that you didn’t need fancy dates or extravagant gestures.

because home wasn’t a place.

it was him.

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polarisjisung · 5 months ago

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ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings

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macabrebatz · 2 months ago

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SOMETHING THERE (Caged Warcraft Orc/Reader)

Summary: Orcs have invaded your world and you're tasked with taking care of a very angry, very injured imprisoned orc. But he's not the only one that's going to be taken care of.

Author’s Note: Hello, lovelies! A little while ago I got sent an ask here about the captured orc in the movie Warcraft (you can read the post here). I love the concept so much that I just had to write about him. He's unnamed in the movie so I just refer to him as an orc throughout this. This can be read as a generic orc x human story but just know this was written specifically with this big drooling guy in mind. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, fem! reader, orc x human, canon divergent, smut with some plot, teratophillia/monsterfucking, injured character, conversation about mates, teasing, size difference (this orc is bigger than you no matter your size), let's pretend that Warcraft orcs would actually fit for a moment, fingering, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, some degradation, possessiveness, he's mean I don't know what else to tell you, choking, hair pulling, semi public sex (?), Lothar makes an appearance, no aftercare, NOT beta read

Word count: 4.7k

Your job had been straightforward for the most part. You were a handmaiden often tasked with cleaning and maintaining the kingdom's dungeons. There had never been many prisoners kept in the lower parts of the castle, not while you had been of service there at least. Most of the time the cells were empty and you were often tasked with taking care of other parts of the castle instead, places frequently overlooked by the other maids.

But all of a sudden you found yourself busier than usual when a handful of knights dragged in a nearly dead creature of the likes you had never seen before. It took multiple men to pull him down the steps of the dungeons and into a barred cell.

Lothar, a man you had become friends with, followed behind his fellow knights, watching as they hovered around the prisoner.

“What exactly is he?” you asked quietly.

You had met all types of denizens of Azeroth. Elves, dwarves, worgen….but never anyone like the large, tusked man that laid before you.

Lothar shrugged, not knowing the answer to the question.

“If I knew I would tell you. They just…showed up. I don’t know where they came from. Or how many there are. We took the other one to the king for questioning. She’s tiny compared to the rest of them,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the floor, staring at the smeared trail of blood leading from the stairs to the cell.

“He’s wounded?” you questioned, looking back at the cell.

“Yes, he was going to attack the other one we captured. Can you keep him alive?” Lothar asked.

You nodded. You had cared for injured and sick prisoners before. Some of them probably wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for you.

“I’ll need supplies though.”

“I’ll get you everything you need. Just be careful and try to keep your distance as much as possible. He doesn’t seem to be the friendliest,” he said.

Lothar left you with the other knights, disappearing up the stairs. After a few minutes, he returned with a box of supplies, far more than enough to heal any wounds. He ushered the other knights out and wished you luck as he sauntered away.

You had unlocked the cell and spent a considerable amount of time trying to remove the rugged bone armor and leather from the sleeping creature's chest. You then began cleaning and stitching the stab wound, silently cursing Lothar for creating such a nasty wound to begin with. Never once did the being move or wake. His breathing was weak and a part of you thought he might die right then and there from the amount of blood he had lost.

But his chest continued to rise and fall as you snipped the end of the stitches with your shears. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you sat there for a moment, watching the sleeping creature.

He was large, bigger than any human you had ever seen. He had long greying hair and an untamed beard. Although his eyes were closed you could tell that one had been previously injured, the skin around it scarred and almost red. On the opposite side of his face, a deep scar ran from his lip up the side of his face. There were pieces of metal embedded in the skin where the wound had been closed and healed over the metal.

There was a part of you, deep inside your mind that found the rugged stranger quite attractive. But you ignored that part of your mind, pushing those thoughts aside. You knew nothing about the being that laid before you and you weren’t going to let curiosity get the better of you.

You wrapped a bandage around his shoulder and chest, something that proved to be quite difficult with how large he was. But you managed to do it regardless, securing the bandage so it wouldn’t move.

You stood up and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind you.

There was still blood all over the floor and you quickly turned your attention to that, scrubbing the floors by hand, something you had done time and time again.

About an hour passed and as you found yourself on your knees, scrubbing the last bit of blood off the floor you heard shuffling. You glanced over your shoulder to see the creature waking up, slowly sitting up, reaching for his chest and grimacing in pain.

He shook his head and looked around, growling as he slowly became more conscious. His head turned, stopping when his eyes laid on you. For a moment neither of you moved, staring at each other, but then the creature lurched forward toward the bars and let out a roar. You jumped back in surprise, almost knocking over the bucket of water sitting beside you.

The roar ceased as he grabbed his chest once again, falling onto his knees in pain. Your fear was quickly replaced with worry, standing up quickly and walking closer to the cell.

“You can’t do that. You’ll make the wound open back up,” you said.

He snarled and said something in a language you had never heard before. He sat back against the wall, glaring at you.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you said.

He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, grumbling and holding his chest.

And that’s how almost every day had gone for weeks. He would over-exert himself out of anger, trying to break through the bars of his cell. You would scold him, telling him he needed to rest, which he would ignore. He would yell at you in his native tongue and you would ignore him, setting down food and water in front of the bars, just enough for him to reach the plate but not you.

Some days the yelling and banging on the bars would get so loud that the knights that stood guard at the entrance of the dungeon came rushing in, scared for your safety. You would shoo them away, assuring the worried knights that you were fine. They were honestly happy to leave, not wanting to be so close to the creature behind the bars.

Not all days were like that though. Sometimes he was quiet, too tired to do his usual routine of raging. On those days you would talk to him while you cleaned or while he sat and ate, filling the void of silence with your voice.

You would just talk about things on your mind, gossip from the other handmaidens, stories you had heard from the knights that would try to flirt with you and impress you with their war stories. The table and chair that had been set out for you slowly inched closer every day as you sat and talked to him during lunch.

You rarely ever had anyone to talk to throughout the day. Sometimes one of the knights would join you for lunch or Lothar would talk with you as you cleaned when he wasn’t busy, but it was a rare occasion. So now you found yourself droning on to the prisoner during your time spent cleaning and your breaks. He didn’t seem to mind but you honestly couldn’t tell. His face often had some form of a grimace on it, a snarl always daring to creep up.

You weren’t sure if he could understand you either until one day, while the two of you ate, you finally asked him a question that had been on your mind.

“What exactly are you? Lothar hasn’t answered the question yet. You’re not human…not an elf. Your teeth are kind of like a troll’s teeth. A bit smaller than theirs though,” you rambled.

You didn’t expect him to say anything. On days like this, he never said anything. After a moment, he broke the silence with one word.

“Orc.”

You looked up from where you sat, glancing through the bars of the cell. He was looking back at you, his working eye staring at you.

“An orc? That’s what you are?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“So you’ve been able to understand me this entire time?”

“Yes.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day.

A couple more weeks passed and the caged orc had seemingly calmed down. He no longer yelled and raged on, often sitting in silence.

But sometimes he would speak, occasionally answering questions you had about orcs and his culture. He was often cold, even mean when it came to replying, but you simply shook it off.

You asked him about his cloudy eye and the large scar running up his face. That seemed to perk him up. For the first time in almost a month, his cold demeanor dropped. He told you about the fights he won, boasting about how many times he had come close to death. It was the first time he had ever been talkative. Usually, he would give short responses to your questions but now he was painting vivid pictures for you as he told a story for every scar.

“And this,” he brought his hand up to the healing stab wound on his chest, “is nothing. A scratch.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You laugh, but it’s true. Your tiny knights couldn’t kill me if they tried,” he said.

“Lothar came pretty close,” you chuckled.

He frowned, a growl escaping his lips as he stood up and slowly walked towards you. You sat just out of reach from him, you had moved your table even closer to the cell over the past few days. Despite his gruff attitude he had begun to grow on you. You enjoyed talking to him and maybe even staring at him a little.

You took a sip from your water as he stepped closer, gripping his hand around one of the metal bars.

“You talk about that one a lot. Is he your mate?” he questioned, his voice low.

The question took you by surprise, causing you to choke on your water.

“No…no. He’s not. We’re not…no,” you said in between coughs.

The orc hummed, sounding almost amused by your answer and frantic coughing.

“No? One of the other knights then? Or one of those handmaidens you’re always talking about?” the orc asked.

You shook your head as you sat your glass down.

“I don’t have a…mate.” The word felt foreign to your lips. You could feel your face heat up as you frowned, averting your eyes from the orc.

There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, the sound of his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure you’ll find a puny little knight one of these days. Although I doubt they could keep you satisfied,” he said.

Your jaw dropped a bit, shocked by the sudden forwardness of the orc.

“I think I’ll be satisfied,” you said, scoffing.

“I highly doubt it. The men of your species seem…inadequate,” he said, sitting back down.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. Why was he talking about this? What was he getting at?

You shook your head, deciding to change the subject.

“How is your wound?” you asked.

“I told you. It’s just a scratch,” he mumbled.

“You were stabbed with a sword. You’re lucky you’re even alive,” you sighed.

He scoffed, sounding offended that you would even suggest that he could’ve died.

“May I please check it? To make sure it’s not infected?” you asked.

“I guess,” he grumbled.

You stood up, walking closer to the cell. You swore you could hear Lothar in your mind scolding you for doing exactly what he said not to do. But you couldn’t exactly keep your distance if you wanted to do your job properly.

The orc leaned towards the metal bars as your hands snaked through, untucking the bandages and slowly pulling them off of his chest. The orc grimaced at the sensation, traces of dried blood had caused the bandages to stick to his skin. You hadn’t had the opportunity to clean it. It was the first time since he had first arrived that you felt comfortable enough to get close enough to examine him.

“It looks…fine. It could use a little cleaning though. Wish I had a healing potion to give you but I don’t know any alchemists,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t need any of that,” he grumbled, looking down at you.

“At least let me clean it. Surely dying from infection isn’t the way you want to go,” you joked.

“Fine,” he chuckled.

You smiled. It was odd hearing the orc laugh but you found it slightly endearing.

You turned, grabbing your supplies from the table and turning back around to the orc. You hummed to yourself as you cleaned his skin with a washcloth, wiping away all of the traces of dried blood.

“No mate,” the orc said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You have no mate,” he said.

Really, this subject again?

“Yes, I thought we established this?” you asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why are you so interested in this subject?” you mumbled.

“You ask stupid questions all the time. Why can I not ask you a question?” he said.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, focusing your attention back on his wound.

“I don’t know. Just haven’t found the right person. Why do you care anyway? It’s not like we could be mates,” you huffed.

“And why is that?”

He was looking down at you. You felt your face heat up a bit as you averted your gaze.

“You’re too…mean. And grumpy. And I’m ninety percent sure you were going to try to kill me for the first few weeks you were here,” you said.

You turned away from him, grabbing a new roll of gauze.

“I’m not trying to kill you now,” he said.

You unrolled the gauze and started wrapping it around his chest.

“Yeah…I know. Can we please drop this subject? It’s not like I would be your type anyway.”

“Type?” he questioned, not understanding the phrase.

“Your type. It’s what you’re attracted to. Now shush and let me finish,” you said.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. All of a sudden it was becoming very hard to think clearly. Something about being so close to the orc while he was watching your every movement was managing to make your head foggy. Sure, you found him attractive. Something about his ruggedness and size was alluring. But you never expected him to make your knees weak. And he hadn’t even done anything to you.

You did your best to ignore whatever feelings were brewing inside of you as you finished bandaging his chest.

“There,” you said, “all better.”

“Thank you,” the orc grumbled.

The rest of the day came and went quietly, all without a word about the previous conversation. You found yourself staring at him. Your stomach felt fluttery and it was becoming more and more difficult to suppress what you had felt all along.

When you went to bed that night you couldn’t help but repeat the conversation in your head, completely puzzled by the orcs’ fascination with the fact that you were ‘unmated’.

Such an odd thing to be hung up on.

What was worse was that your own fascination with the orc seemed to be getting stronger.

So much so that you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned all night, your mind racing just at the thought of the imprisoned orc.

So much so that when you finally did fall asleep, you dreamed about him. You were being held by him in your dream, the same way you had hoped to one day be held by a knight or maybe even a skillful mage. But for some odd reason, the thought of being held by the orc brought you more comfort than every silly knight fantasy you ever had.

So much so that the next day you found yourself scooting your table and chair closer to his cell. Something you had already done but now you were repeating the process every day for a week, slowly inching it closer and closer.

So much so that you started to purposely loosen the laces at the top of your dress. At this point, you weren’t sure what was overtaking your mind. You found yourself wanting to tease him, something you never thought you’d do.

So much so that you had been lingering in the dungeon well past the curfew given to the maids. You wanted to be in his presence. To say he was growing on you was an understatement.

So much so that about a week later when you bent down to pick up his plate, something you had done every day since he arrived, you didn’t walk away from the cell.

This time the orc gripped you by your hair, yanking you back hard against the bars of the cell. You yelped as the plate dropped to the floor. He let go of your hair and his hand snaked through the bars, wrapping it around your throat. His other hand rested on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Are you done teasing?” he asked as his grip tightened around your throat.

“Teasing?” you squeaked.

“Do you really think I’m clueless? Every day you get closer and closer to this cage. You’ve been staying in here late at night. And your breasts have practically been falling out of your dress. It’s almost like you’re begging me to rip it off you,” he growled.

He was absolutely right. You had been caught red-handed.

“Are you going to explain yourself, human?”

He had you pressed against him so tightly that it was almost hard to breathe. You could feel something hardening against your backside and that fluttery feeling started building in your stomach.

“I just…”

“You just what?” he said.

“I just want you to touch me,” you said just above a whisper.

“Say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew there was a smirk plastered across it.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me,” you repeated.

“Just a few days ago I was ‘too mean’ for you but now look at you. All needy. Maybe if you ask nicely. Maybe if you beg,” he hummed.

Now he was the one teasing. He didn’t move, his hands didn’t even flinch. He just held you tight, pressing you against his erection.

“Please. May you please touch me?”

You were almost whining, pushing back against him. He chuckled, finding your neediness amusing.

He let go of your throat and turned you around so you were facing him. Sticking his hand through the cell, he brought it up to your bust and gripped your dress, ripping the fabric down the front like it was a piece of parchment. You gasped as it fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“I liked that dress,” you pouted.

Not to mention the fact that it was technically your work uniform. A problem you would deal with later you supposed.

“You look better without it. Now take those off unless you want them ripped as well,” he said, looking down at you.

You nodded as you slipped off your undergarments, tossing them to the side.

He pulled you closer to the bars until you were almost pressed against them, lifting up one of your legs with his hand, cupping underneath your knee. His free hand snaked down and one of his large fingers found its way to your cunt, spreading apart your folds.

“You might as well be dripping. Already so wet and I haven’t even got started yet,” he said.

The orc didn’t give you time to respond as he slowly began pushing his finger inside of you, stretching you out as your walls wrapped around his massive digit. A moan escaped your lips and it echoed throughout the room.

“Sshhh, be quiet,” he shushed you, as he began to pump his finger inside of you.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing little circles around it as his other fingers thrust in and out of your pussy.

You mindlessly ground into his hand, adding to the friction and causing ripples of pleasure to shoot through your body. You had never felt this full before. The size of one of his fingers was almost triple the size of a human’s.

Soon he was adding a second finger, gathering your wetness and pushing into your entrance, curling with every thrust of his hand.

“Gotta stretch you out if you want to take me,” he mumbled, fucking his hand into you at a quicker pace.

Your legs were trembling and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers. His thumb rolled over your clit faster, pressing down on the sensitive bud.

You did your best to stifle your moan as your orgasm hit you.

“There you go. Cum on my hand,” he said.

One of your hands gripped onto a cell bar while the other reached through, reaching up and pressing against his shoulder for support.

He didn’t give you time to recover before his fingers slipped out of you and his other hand let go of your leg. His hands unfastened his pelt, revealing his hardened cock underneath. It felt like there was a lump in your throat as you swallowed, looking down at it. You could see why he insisted on stretching you out beforehand. You were a bit worried about it fitting inside of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he said as if he could read your mind, “Now turn around and bend over.”

You did as he said, turning your back towards him and leaning down. His hand grazed over your ass for a moment, giving it a light squeeze before he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He held your wrists behind your back, his large hands covering them completely. His other hand held his cock, sliding it against your clit, teasing you with the head.

You groaned, wanting to push back on him, but he held you firmly in place.

He slid his cock towards your entrance and began slowly pushing into the hole. You stretched around him, the feeling felt so new to you that it sent shivers up your spine. Although his fingers had done a good job stretching you out, it was still nowhere enough to accommodate the size of the orcs’ cock.

You felt him tug ever so slightly on your wrists, pulling your entire body closer to him, sliding into you at an agonizing pace.

Another moan began to slip from your mouth, unintentionally loud. Before it could come all the way out, his hand moved from your wrists to your mouth, muffling your moan as he continued slowly pushing his cock into you. He growled, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“Shush, you don’t want your little knights to come running in here, do you? You want them to see you like this?”

You shook your head, slightly horrified at the thought of a knight walking in, especially if that knight happened to be Lothar. You hadn’t even given that possibility a thought.

“Then be quiet for once,” the orc said.

You nodded, and his hand slipped away from your mouth. This time it settled on your shoulder, his other hand slipping off his cock and gripping onto your hip.

He held onto you as he began to slowly rock into you, thrusting the rest of his length into you. Your back arched as pain and pleasure crept up inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

His hips were slamming against you, he was giving you no amount of time to adjust to his size. His balls slapped against your cunt with every thrust. That and the sound of you squelching around him radiated through the dungeon.

He reached forward, gripping your hair once more, pulling you all the way to the bars. You hissed as he yanked your head back.

“I asked you a question. Is this what you wanted?” he questioned.

“Yes. Ah-yes, this is what I wanted,” you said.

He let go of your hair, pushing you back down with his hand as he continued to pound into you through the cell bars.

“Look at you. Pathetic human. Taking my cock like a greedy slut,” he chuckled.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your moans. Every thrust was unrelenting. You could feel him sliding against that spongy spot inside of you and it was slowly pushing you closer to the edge.

You were getting louder and louder, whimpering as the orc fucked you.

His thrusts suddenly halted and you whined.

“No, why’d you stop?” you asked, near tears.

“I thought I told you to be quiet?”

“You did but-“

“But what?” he said.

“Please keep fucking me. I don’t care if they hear us. I only care about you,” you pleaded.

You weren’t sure what had overcome you but it was true. In that moment all you cared about was the orc behind you.

There was a brief pause before the orcs’ hands were wrapping around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could despite the cell bars between you. It was like something snapped in him as he began rutting into you, burying his cock deep inside of you with every roll of his hips.

You moaned, not caring if anyone heard you. You were so wrapped up in the pleasure that you weren’t even sure if you cared anymore if someone walked in.

“You’re mine, do you understand? I’ve ruined you. None of those pathetic knights can have this,” the orc growled behind you.

You were at a loss for words as ecstasy washed over you, too in a daze to answer.

“You don’t want them anyway, huh? I’ve stretched you out so much that only I’ll be able to satisfy you.”

You didn’t say anything but your body answered for you, clenching around his cock as he fucked you. And he noticed, grip tightening around you almost immediately like he was afraid you’d somehow slip away.

“Oh, you like that? You like that I’ve ruined you for everyone else? You want me to make you my mate, don’t you?” he said.

You found yourself nodding your head, not even thinking about it. Maybe it was just the pleasure or maybe there was truly something else. Something there deep in the back of your mind that wanted more of him.

“All mine,” he groaned.

Your body shook as you reached your second climax, moaning as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. That’s it. Cum on my cock. Just like that,” he grunted, still thrusting into you.

You were whimpering underneath him, slowly becoming overstimulated as he chased his own high, bucking into you. His cock twitched as he moaned, cumming deep inside of you. His hands were still wrapped around you, holding you through the bars as he filled you up.

Before you could pull away there were sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Your mind was too foggy to even react when you looked up, seeing the all too familiar face of Lothar stopping at the dungeon entrance.

“Oh my….what are you two…put some clothes on!”

Lothar had covered his eyes with his hand, completely in shock.

The orc chuckled, letting go of you completely. Your legs buckled underneath you and you stumbled forward, slipping off his cock and falling to the ground.

You heard the jingle of keys before they were tossed near you, sliding on the stone floor.

“I was coming to let him out. He can thank his chieftain. I’m just…I’m going to go,” Lothar said, rushing out of the room.

You laid on the floor for a moment. Too exhausted to move, too embarrassed as well. You could feel the orc’s cum leaking out of you onto the stone. You would’ve fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for the voice of the orc pulling you back to reality.

“Are you going to lay there all day or are you going to let me out, my sweet mate?”

853 notes · View notes

szarina · 1 year ago

Text

❝ A GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE. ❞

✞ FEATURING. BULLY! GOJO SATORU AND GETO SUGURU

▶ SERIES MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNINGS bullying + university au + heavy bullying + degradation + humiliation + threats + blackmails + she/her pronouns + sabotage + bribes + blow jobs + cunnilingus + name calling (slut, whore, being called pig related names) + noncon + dubcon + dacryphilia + penetrative sex + implied spanking + anal sex + double penetration + nonconsensual recording + DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

NOTES. it's been long since i've paid attention on this one and for @bimbosandbubbles, vanny. thank you for inspiring me to finish this one. semi part 2 here. part 3.

SYNOPSIS. evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

at the start of your uni days, you expected life would open a new path for you. meeting new people from different cities or in the international, new experiences and a way for you to start a new life with a degree after college but you shouldn't have planned anything for yourself as life had different plans for you. to mock you and spat at your face for being naive.

stuck in the endless game of cat and mouse with the university's golden duo.

his bright blue eyes peering behind his dark glasses while he watch the busybodies of students walks through the busy hallways of the university. searching for a certain someone that has been the sole enjoyment of his for the last few months. the only one who have lasted them for so long.

spreading his long arms at the back of the bench. legs spread in an inviting manner as he leans back, head thrown back. looking at the person sitting besides him.

“suguru, are you sure she'll show up?” gojo whines, asking the dark-haired male with the same footing as his in the university. looks and popularity-wise.

taking a puff from his cigarette, geto turns his eyes to him before looking at the students coming out for their next classes. blowing out the smoke before replying to him. his purple eyes glints.

“patience, satoru. she will show up.” anticipating the return of their favorite plaything. you could such be a tease at time like this.

it was time. your eyes rapidly searching for them. hoping to avoid the duo that everybody have singing their names. you don't want to deal another humiliation nor degrading remarks coming from them. you prayed. prayed and prayed, hoping someone will hear your pleas. clutching the straps of your bag tighter as you step outside of your class.

you began to made your way to your next class. you were glad many students were still present and crowding the hallways but you could never be so sure. passing the crowd with an apology to your lips as you occasionally bump into them but you keep your guard up, avoiding to look in the courtyard. you keep your sight straight ahead but you could feel your eyes tear up when a sudden shove from a busy student hit you. the collision making you look in the direction where the duo was waiting for you.

even at the distance, you can see geto's eyes fixated on you. a smirk curls in his lips. shooting you a playful smile at your direction.

your prayer wasn't heard that day.

scrambling into your feet and pretends you didn't see him. making yourself blend in the crowd and disappeared into the place where you only know. your heart beating a mile per minute, running away from them.

“there she is, satoru.” geto called out to his friend. making gojo straighten himself up and looks where geto is looking at. you're running away from them. how sad. how stupid.

thinking you could easily escape them and blending in the crowd. clever girl. they thought but they couldn't miss you. like predators marking their prey to be devoured. they know you more than you know yourself. exchanging looks and geto smirks while gojo chuckles. fuck, you interest them more.

two cats letting the mouse escape and corner it again before they can fully escape in their grasp.

looking around, you made sure there's no one following you. no signs of the white hair and dark long hair best friends lurking around. taking the more quiet place that students use as shortcut when in a rush.

you just wanted a peaceful college life. not being a playtoy for the duo who passed you around like you were some cheap whore. you want to ask someone to help you but how could they help you. some attempts were made and the good souls who believes in you where blacklisted from the university for some unknown reasons.

you didn't know how much power gojo held and the words coming from geto's mouth enticing people who hang from his every word and realizing it only at the end.

gojo satoru is the only son and the heir of a multi-million company. who made a name for himself in the campus. the pretty boy who have different arm candies hanging in his arms weekly.

geto suguru who you doesn't know much but made himself popular along with gojo in the campus. charming he is and had a fan club made for him and to his best friend. they're the best if people were asked about them.

and you. you were just nothing but a toy to them. a past time when they're bored and you're left like nothing when they're done with you.

they won't follow you, do they? looking behind you to check and you almost let out a breath of relief. you barely escaped geto earlier. your nerves still working you up.

“i didn't take you the type to ditch us, (y/n).”

you almost jump, making you stop in your tracks as you look up in front of you. hand in his pockets while waving the phone in his other hand. a grin in his face while stepping closer to you.

with every step he take, you took backwards. not wanting to face him or geto. you don't want anything from them. tentatively taking your steps backwards. you just could blend again with the crowd. your mind formulating a thousand escape plans. you only look at him in contempt. a last chance of bravery against him.

spinning your heel and you made a run for a life. you could taste the escape in your lips. away from him. away from the people who made your life hell.

flashes of light blinded you for a second before realizing you were stopped. the tight grip in your arm, the smell of cigarette clinging into his shirt. it almost made you gag.

“nice one, suguru. (n/n) thinks she can escape us.”

there was a stinging sensation behind your eyes. the hope you're once clinging ripping into shreds. falling once again to the madness this two seeks for the pleasure of their own entertainment.

geto pulls you closer to his. wrapping his arm in your shoulder. your back against his chest while his hand went to cup your jaw. raising your head to meet his smile. you sure could punch him if you have the guts but looking at his face, you couldn't deny that geto suguru is attractive. maybe it's the lightning or how his hair is elaborately tied in a bun where the other locks of his hair is loose underneath and the single strand of his hair falling down. acting like bangs in his face. the warm light of the sun illuminating his face like halo. it's almost— godly.

you felt stupid for admiring one of the people in your life who made it hell. it's a realization how small you felt, how powerless you are with this two and they remind you of it every single time of your life.

your lips is curled up in a frown and gojo take notice of it. the latter grinning and walking forward where his friend got you trapped.

grasping your chin in his slender fingers, blue eyes inspecting your face behind his dark glasses. leaning closer to brush his lips to yours and the immediate reaction earns a laugh of amusement to his. tucking back your lips and moving your head to the side. blinking back the tears and he'd be lying if he didn't like the tears on you.

you weren't special. you're nothing worthy of praise nor attention but you do give them a hell of a time. you didn't even look or close to the numerous bitches they had fucked. they were naturally submissive which they like and the worst is they got clingy which is incredibly annoying for them. skanky bitches like them think they can have a piece of them. thinking they're now hotshots for sleeping with them when they're just holes for them to fill and to leave.

you — you got a fight in you. they wouldn't tell you that aloud. they didn't need to shape a bitch for them. bitches are made for them and you, even a dozen times they break you, you're still standing up and perhaps they could keep you longer until you submit to them and throw you away like a trash. follow them like a lost puppy that is still coming back even kicked and worship them at their feet. they needed you to break.

your eyes betrayed you, no. it wasn't tears instead it was the impalpable glare you have given to someone and not just to someone. it was one of your bullies.

his shit eating grin turning into one of a coldest lines forming in his lips before turning into one of a condescending smile. an immediate silence taking over and geto didn't missed that despise being behind you. harshly yanking your arms he was holding and earning a whimper from you.

“ah, ah. what's that? acting brave now are we? who taught you that or perhaps we didn't teach you enough what happens to fat slut like you acting up? mmm?” he hums. closing his eyes as his lips crooks into a smile. his bangs covering one side of his eye and the other opens or both. you couldn't tell when his bangs is covering the other.

“suguru, don't be like that. we've been just too lenient at her and now — acting too brash. we don't want this for our pet suguru, do we?” gojo tuts. tapping his fingers to your cheek, eyes locking to geto. the eye contact generating the sickest of punishments they can sentence you to.

“please — i-i need to go....” your voice stumbling at the words and your false courage starting to crumble. you couldn't think how stupid you were for glaring at gojo. he deserves it and it's not enough. you thought. bitter memories starting to surface while you think of all the humiliations you had to endure by his hands and if you were getting punished which was already placed into you, you should have glared at his friend too.

gojo tuts.“nuh uh, where do you think you're going? this is what you get for avoiding us. you need to learn your place.” the snow white haired boy jeers at you.

suguru only smirks, grabbing your arm to drag you from wherever they wished to punish you. gojo following suit whilst humming a tone from a random song.

you ended up in a vacant classroom in where the area is currently renovated and staff and students alike are forbidden to enter minus the construction workers who were taking a lunch break. giving the duo the time to punish you in their own ways. you can feel the bile rising in your throat and the familiar sparks of tears stinging behind your eyelids. your heart quickening its beats from the nervousness and the shame you have to face on or it will never end. it never ends.

“strip.” the black haired male ordered you. seated in one of the chairs in the vacant room. his friend is also comfortably seated too. a huge smirk plastered on his face, resting his head in his palm while those blues in his eyes glints in anticipation.

“n-no.” you stammer out. your hands trembling. clenched in fists in your back.

geto fakes a frown. twirling his phone in his hand while he types the password in his phone.

“no? such a shame if the whole uni would see what kind of a slut you are. you look good in this one, pretty i might say. taking satoru's cock so well. hm?” tapping the phone in his fingers while showing you a clip of a video they had previously filmed from the past sessions. both had a copy in their own phones. they may never say it but it's a video they treasured whenever they misses you. “poor mommy and daddy. they will know how much of a slut a daughter they had raised.”

“you can't do that. you have no right.” there's a sound similar to a whisper in your voice. a cruel smirk etched in his face, looking at your helpless state. they know the power they hold. what would you do report? ask the others? too bad, they'll never believe you as long they're around. people worship them. what's the power of a peasant against them? nothing.

“he can, (y/n)-chan. just one tap away and the whole world will see you for who you really are. a slut who's desperate of attention. now, follow suguru's order or we'll post it.” satoru warns. playing with the arms of his dark glasses. the action making you see a peek of what's under them.

and just like that, like a puppet you obey them. your hands trembling along with your vision blurring from the tears that started to spill from your eyes. forced to follow what they ordered to you. you couldn't risk to be find out. knowing full well that you would just be shamed even it's not your fault. who would believe you after all? you were an unfortunate being that got thrown in a tiger's den. you think of your parents — who worked so hard for your education. if hardwork and determination would reward you along with their sacrifices. you will be the first one to graduate in your family. you just have to endure it. give in to their demands and maybe — just maybe. it will end faster and you could wallow in shame on your own.

retracting your arms and you unhooked your bag slinging in your back. placing it on the nearest table. there's a soft thud along with the taps of their shoes in the wooden floor. impatiently waiting for you to completely strip of your garments.

your head hung know as you hesitate to reach out for the lower buttons of your blouse. your fingers wobbles as the buttons enter the holes of your blouse. one by one. the buttons coming undone and you blinked back the tears again but no matter how many times you blinked the tears came running down your cheeks.

you couldn't run. not when the fate of your education and dignity are stored in their phones — or maybe. you'll let them and disappear forever — away from their hungry gazes and hands that turns filth whatever they touches.

a pair of blue and purple dances at your snivelling form. that look suits you better than being a stubborn bitch you are. all bark and no bite. who's the the loser now?

it's getting quite annoying how you slowly take your clothes off and the modesty of it. a red long sleeved blouse and underneath it a black tank top paired with a long black denim skirt that preserves and gives you the impression of being a modest and goody two shoes person. boring. they make sure to put in mind what clothes you are allowed to wear for immediate contact.

satoru sighs but it's closer to belching. growing impatient as he taps his shoes in the floor before standing up and walks towards you.

he holds the tops of your shirt before tearing it up. the last buttons flying away as they got ripped. you panicked and grasping his hands to stop it but he's stronger than you. easily pulling your arms away as he yank your shirt. the action resulting in your skin burning and welts starting to form where the cloth had touched your skin.

“no! no — please! i—i'll do anything you want but not this!” you cried, hands squirming to take it away from his tight grasp. “tsk. too late.” gojo taunts. turning his head to look at geto who was enjoying the view. “suguru~, lend a hand will you? little mousy-chan is real stubborn today” asking his friend nonchalantly.

geto shakes his head, cupping your jaw harshly that it started to hurt and leaves bruises to the skin. forcing you to raise your head to look at him. “this wouldn't happen if you were obedient. we could have shown you mercy and instead what did you do? running away from us like a squealing pig. accept your punishment.” his pupils darkening and you watch it through your glossy eyes.

“a bad, bad — bad girl, you are. who taught you this? ahh, maybe it's mommy or daddy. run away from the big bad wolf eh. it's that what they taught you. they're wrong. you're a swine who lures men at your undesirable self.” he continues to sneer at you.

you didn't know what's hurting at this point. your body or your soul. you didn't know. you couldn't even shield yourself from the spite of their hatred and disgust for you. if you were really this ugly and undesirable for them. why would they bother for it. you know it wouldn't be difficult for them to get their dick wet. girls swoon and was more than willing to give their body for them and if they want another to give the same treatment you receive, they can. a much more appealing person for their taste. a far cry from what you are.

he lets go of your jaw, the sound of your tank top being ripped from the back resonating in the room. geto grabs your head, your face pressing on his chest while he holds you to avoid interrupting his friend who was having the time of his life tearing your clothes off. your bra following suit. your denim skirt being tugged away and that made you cry even more, leaving you only in your panties.

gojo continues his torment at you. slapping and pinching the muffin top in your waistline. chuckling while his fingers digs marks into the skin. amused from the fat of your body jiggling and swaying with the assault it was taking.

his eyes twinkling in pure glee and it returns to normal meeting geto's gaze at him. looks are exchanged, a quiet agreement that they both fully understand what it meant coming for you.

geto places his hands into your shoulders before pushing it down, forcing you to kneel with no consideration for the bruises that will later bloom. gojo watches in pure amusement while his friend manipulates you into his will. this is what suguru is. his true colors in full display.

geto is not the person you want to be messed up with. striking in the place where you don't expect it. nothing can hinder suguru when getting what he desires and a shame for those fuckers who tried to help you. what they did get? blacklisted from the university with a anomaly he conjured up.

flickers of sunlight and dust mingles in the room. gojo shakes his head watching as his friend switched his charismatic demeanor into one of a sadistic. “suguru, don't get too hasty. i thought you were the cool one here.” he said nonchalantly, eyes hungry with desire and need from raking through your half naked figure. kicking your torn clothes strewn in the floor.

“i don't tolerate defiant bitches who can't follow rules and begs for mercy from their mistake.” his voice cool with hint of malice behind them. “i should put you in your place, (n/n). ” he smirks, relishing on how hope simply vanishes into your eyes.

“now don't be like that to me, (y/n). please me and maybe i'll change my mind.” his eyes narrows down at you while you're in the verge of tears. your lips are wobbling. faced with suguru's crotch and you regret looking in his eyes. a silent plea for him to change his mind. a condescending smile only and you received your answer.

you blink back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes while you reach for his belt loops. shaky hands unbuckled his belt and you were shook that you were fumbling and when geto took a breath, you quickly managed to unhook the loops and pulling the zipper of his pants down.

you never wanted to make it worse than it was when geto would show his impatience towards you and in your situation you can only obey.

he's huge. always was. the outline of his cock is pressed against his boxers. “i presume you won't be needing my help to get it out, princess.” his tone velvet smooth with a hint of impatience dripping in it. you accepted your fate when you tug his boxers down. his cock springing free and it slaps to his abdomen. “suck.” he orders you with no hesitation and you think you could cry at this moment and then you remembered how cruel the two are when disobeyed especially the male above.

you take a experimental lick in the tip of his cock before enveloping it with your tongue. you feel him shiver. a grunt can be heard next as you swallow half of his cock. bobbing your head in a slow motion while you stroke the other half of his cock.

suguru stare at the scene below him. his cute piggy taking his cock in your mouth. he places his hand behind your head. forcing you to look at him and it makes his cock throb more at your mouth. your round cheeks in display and your lips wrapped around his cock and that teary gaze of yours meeting his own. “take more of this cock, princess.” tapping your cheek and you obediently followed. he let out a curse as you take him deeper. closing his eyes for a brief moment and he returned to watch you take more of him. “you can only follow an order if you're being threatened. might do more of this—shit—haaah.” grunting as you fondle his balls.

satoru watch in pure amusement as you take his friend's cock. slobbering all over it as you suck him deeper and he's a little jealous. not used in his spotlight being taken by someone and suguru was no exception and your attention should be also on him. his blue eyes peering through his glasses. he watch as your round face struggled to swallow more of his friend's girthy cock. drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you bob your head back and forth.

gojo shudders at the blood rushing in his cock. he began to palm his cock through his pants. groaning and the little puffs of breath he was taking. unable to contain his excitement he pulled out his cock. stroking his veiny cock in a slow torturous manner as his cum dribbles down from the tip of his cock.

“suguruuu~” geto winces at the call of his name. eyes half-glaring at his friend for interrupting the haze he was in of your mouth sucking him. “you're not the only one allowed to fuck (y/n)-chan's mouth. sooo let me have her mouth.” gojo smiles at him and suguru scowls for a moment before giving your mouth to suck satoru's cock.

gojo grins. “f-fuck... suck me more...” the white haired boy stutters. burrowing his dick deeper in your mouth making you gag but he didn't care. feels too good to notice that you're almost choking on his cock as tears appeared in the corner of your eyes. your other hand still occupied jerking suguru's length.

the duo loves nothing more than this. their cute, little toy being used by them. you spent the last minutes alternating between their cocks, both covered by your spit. you were currently sucking him off and suguru groans at his impending orgasm and satoru isn't doing good either but before their orgasm bursts. they made you stop.

“open wide baby.” gojo pants. both of them pumping their cocks in unison before shooting their load in your mouth. spurts of their cum dropping in your tongue and some landing in your face. “what do we say after giving you our cum?” his face remaining passive as he reminds you and if you answer it wrong, this will last longer.

“t-thank you.” you shyly mutters. voice low and sounding so obedient. that seems to satisfy suguru as he replied with a hum. holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger. swiping the sticky cum glazed in your face with his thumb, he smeared it in your face and without further adieu you swiped the cum in your lips with your tongue. the bitter taste of their cum coating your taste buds and it would linger for days to come.

“you could be such a good girl, you know that, sweets.” satoru commented. admiring your face covered in cum. “even you could be such a bitch sometimes and you choose today to act up and we know what happens when you break a rule, you get punished.” squishing your round cheeks before staring at you dead in the eye with his blue eyes glimmering more than ever. “and punishment starts now.”

breathing is not the same as it was anymore. you sat in suguru's lap uncomfortably. your ass stinging, covered with handprints as it starts to form welts. air became lacking as suguru continues to kiss you.

“mmm...” the small sounds is all you can manage while suguru shoves his tongue deep inside. it's been minutes and this punishment gets worst as the clock ticks.

suguru can be gentle as he is rough. the dried tears sticking in your cheeks are the evidence of it and your much demure attitude after a spanking does the trick of it so he's rewarding you of kissing you until you're breathless. your soft lips perfectly melding in his and suguru enjoys every minute of it. you taste of the sea and something sweet or it just could be him. licking your tears before this. it was humiliating to you while he savors every minute for it.

geto smirks in the kiss when he hears gojo speak. “she's so fucking wet, suguru.” gojo laughs. watching as slick flows in your dripping hole. your thighs are spreaded by him and preventing you to close your legs away from his gaze. “all that spanking got you, hah. i barely touched you.” mocking you as he laughs. your body tensed and geto noticing the change in your body chuckles. “getting shy, are we? let satoru do what he wants and maybe we're going to be gentle to you this time.” it wasn't much of a request but an order. you simply nodded. “good girl.” suguru mutters before dipping again for a another kiss. holding you closer to him while his hand in your back gripping the rolls on it and the other hand in your breast. his finger brushing to your stiff buds.

satoru let suguru have his fun and so is he. what's in front of him is going to tastier and he can't wait to dig. parting your thighs wider, satoru first bestowed a chaste kiss to your doughy thighs. making sure they are given equally the amount of being worshipped by him. he won't say it aloud but your thighs are his favorite. smooching the expanse of your thighs and sometimes resting his cheek to your thigh just to feel that softness over it. he will get both of them to squish his cheeks or crush his head. he doesn't care.

a smack sound can be heard as satoru took his first lick to your fat pussy. humming in delight for diving back in. his tongue lapping in your sweet heat and more obscene noises grew from his desperate feats of licking your slit with his tongue. alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue to get more of that goodness.

your plush body jerks involuntarily. all the places with the extra bits jiggling at the sudden intrusion of his tongue. moaning in the kiss where suguru had you locked. “mmm...hah—mmm...” is the only sound you can produce as suguru licks your tongue and going back again to take your lips in his. drool covering both of your mouths. eyes half-lidded and you're drunk in this haze and you take a peek of satoru in between your legs. his white hair moving so gracefully as he slurps loudly the juices spilling in your cunt. his large hands holding firmly your thighs. sinking in the softness of it as your thighs gets bigger at being squish. the flesh spilling in his thick fingers.

satoru let goes on your clit with a loud pop before you can cum. your whines muffled by suguru's lips on your own and satoru chuckles. wiping the juices covering his mouth. “i got on her pussy first, suguru.” satoru reminded him and the man in front of you smiles. “no need to remind me, satoru. i'll take her ass.” he nonchalantly commented and your widens. squirming in his lap to get off but suguru clutches your flabby arms in his hands. “don't be scared. it will feel good like your pussy does.” he convinces you but you don't want it. “who cares about that, it's part of the punishment.” suguru growls and that puts you in your place. accepting what they decided for you.

“hey, suguru. frightening our dear (y/n)-chan will get her holes tight. you might want to loosen her.” gojo commentated whilst rubbing your slit with his fingers.

geto tsk. visibly annoyed, a rare occurrence for gojo to see his friend like this. “satoru, punishment is punishment.” the purples in his eyes darkening and gojo shrugs. “whatever. i still get to fuck her fat pussy.” sticking out his tongue towards suguru.

it was painful to swallow the lump in your throat that never existed again and again. your hands are clammy while the duo began to position themselves to you. satoru slapping your ass before hooking his arms behind your knees and his hands holding the back of your thighs hoisting you up. wrapping your arms in his and the other in suguru.

the black haired beauty holds your ass. suguru spreading your ass cheeks and the tip of his cock prodding at your tight hole. “please, geto. not in there please. i—i'll do any—mmph” the sharp thrust of his cock interrupted your plea. making you cry at the burning sensation in your hole. clenching your fist in a tight manner. your eyes hot and warm tears came rolling down your cheeks from the pain like rivulets. “and what? you'll do anything. too late now, sweetheart.” suguru examines your face as it twist again in the thrust of satoru's cock in your cunt.

“fuck!” satoru curses out. chuckling at himself. “the only good thing in you is tight pussy of yours.” your velvety walls clenching around his cock. “are you crying?” satoru teases taking a mental note of your tears.

both of them adjusts their hold on you. beginning to move their hips in an upward motion to thrust their aching cock in your warm holes.

it burns. everything stings with every move. your muscles begging to rest as it tears from how they stretched your muscles and your limbs put in a uncomfortable manner. this is how your day supposed to go on. why you must be in this position. unwilling and unlucky to escape this kind of situation. you're always in trouble with this two and maybe if you weren't so fat for this two to mock and make fun of you wouldn't be here.

mistaking the tears in your eyes as being overstimulated which is true but you're troubled with the inner turmoil of yourself so you get lost and the two began to harshly pound their lengths deep inside you. groaning and throwing at curses.

satoru rests his forehead in your shoulder and behind his glasses, his eyes, the prettiest shade of blue seems to shine in astonishing sight of your pudgy belly. squished together and like dough being stacked together. jiggling at the impact of their thrusts in you and his sight lowers. his cock disappearing inside your pussy as it glistens and the wet squelch it was making, it was simply music to his ears. biting the junction of your neck. he stare at suguru who's smirking at the sensation of your tight hole gripping his cock. “she feels so good, suguru—ahh.. this pussy's trying to choke my cock.” satoru commented.

“you hear that, you feel so good.” suguru holds your jaw forcing you to look at him. “open your mouth, baby.” parting your lips at his order, suguru spits on your mouth. a glob of his spit hitting your tongue in which you didn't hesitate to swallow and suguru smiles. “good girl.” he praises.

hard muscles are a contrast to your soft body. sandwiched between their bodies while they keep their pace steady in bullying your holes with their cocks. a moan is ripped from your throat when satoru hits the spongy spot in your cunt. knowing what he had done, satoru grips your thighs firmly as he angles his cock inside. hitting that spot repeatedly until you can't stifle the sounds coming from you. involuntary moans come spilling from your mouth and gojo swells with pride that only him, well both of them. he and suguru could make you moan like that. how did he know? silly to ask that. they're the only ones who had fucked you since you started college and the first to take your virginity. they didn't even allow men to approach you.

suguru wanting you to make you feel good like satoru does have to speed up his thrusts usually than what he always do. it's not even a work up from him. his desire for your asshole to only know the shape of his cock and he's the only one who can fuck this ass of yours.

“'too much. too much.” you babbled. the pleasure and pain is getting overwhelming for you to take. instead in pitying you it earned a chuckle from the two. “since when did it became too much for you, huh? you're a slut. sluts don't go to tell that it's too much. all they can do is shut up and take it.” satoru taunts you.

gojo hisses when your cunt squeezes around him. the creamy white ring forming in the base of his cock as you came. “shit! she came suguru.” satoru said in amusement and even he's like that he's getting close too and so is suguru. they exchange looks briefly before putting their strength in reaching their end.

you can't speak. they've taken your ability to speak. you can only moan in silence as you feel another orgasm bubbling in your abdomen again. you're going to cum and it's going to be more intense than the last one. you feel them both. hot and throbbing. the veins in their cocks making ridges in your soft walls. taking and molding their very shape.

harsh thrusts are back to back being blown to you. the tips of their cocks hits deeply as they can before releasing their loads. both groaning as spurts after spurts of their cum are being loaded inside of you. never did you felt to be so full and warm until they've released their loads inside of you. hot and sticky.

it took a few more thrusts before the both of them had ridden their high. handsome as they are and wicked even after fucking their favorite plaything. removing your arms around their shoulder. you slowly descended on the floor. both of their cum escaping your holes. dripping and staining the cold hard floor where you sat. you ignore them and you know the drill after being fucked by them. it's time to leave and slowly, you began to gather your clothes. your blouse are useless. tattered and shredded and it won't cover you. you're lucky your denim skirt are still intact.

reaching out for your bag to get the spare clothing you packed for when it happens. you grabbed the wet wipes. patting where their release had stained you, mostly in your face. a stream of tears you didn't even notice falling from your eyes got you wondering why the floor below you is getting wet. the realization dawning into you and you can only cry silently. dressing yourself and trying to be more decent.

satoru and suguru busied themselves fixing their clothing. not leaving the sight of their toy cleaning their self. suguru crouches down to meet your position. “crying after what you've put yourself into.” he commented. “pathetic.” satoru mutters as he watch you beneath him. “try not to defy us again, okay? it would be much worst than this one.” there's a hint of softness in his voice and maybe you could convince yourself that he wasn't a jerk from the way he spoke but you know better. they had humiliated you until you hated yourself. degrading you like you were nothing a dirt and not a human being.

“i understand. i'm sorry.” you say. bowing your head in shame for being disobedient at them. for not following simple orders. “good.” his only response to you.

“can i please go now?”

suguru hums and with that, you slowly made your way outside. your bag tightly secured in your back with your ripped clothes, you left without saying a word again with tears streaming down your face.

when you disappeared from that door, the duo both left at the building. going on with their lives again as the golden boys of the university and you were left with nothing, not even a shred of your dignity.

satoru reviews the newly recorded of you being impaled by their cocks. feeling hard again from the way your pussy wrapped around him along with your soft body pressed against him. “the best, satoru.” suguru commented after seeing what his friend is watching in his phone. “send it to me.” whipping his phone in a second and quickly typing.

your phone buzzes. alerting you with a message. you were wiping your tears after you nearly trip. absentmindedly wandering in the campus and if it wasn't for you almost tumbling you wouldn't break out from your stupor. more tears rolled in your cheeks, dripping down in the screen of your phone after you've read the message.

suguru: see you later.

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