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whimsyfinny · 20 days

Text

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat.

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away.

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine.

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker.

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour.

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor.

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision.

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him.

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria.

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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hencheri · 1 month

Text

18+. mdni.

riding bf!mark because he doesn't give you enough attention :(

lately, mark seems to be always working, spending the majority of his time on his computer with his headphones covering his ears. he gets totally immersed in his work, and even though it’s a good thing, he also forgets about the world around him, including you.

mark sure gives you a lot of attention on a daily basis — with a high sex drive like his, he needs you all the time — but he can easily go a day without thinking about anything else other than his current project. he’s someone who’s very passionate about what he does.

so you miss him a lot on those days.

but honestly, if you want attention, you simply have to ask for it. mark isn’t difficult to convince, especially if it involves fucking.

“mark.”

upon hearing your voice calling him, he only answers a ‘yeah?’, not looking away from the screen in front of him. but feeling your hand laying down on his shoulders distracts him enough to glance your way and he’s surprised to see what you’re wearing, cock jumping in his shorts.

“what’s up?” he asks with raised eyebrows, trying to keep his cool, but his mind goes wild instantly. it really doesn’t take him a lot.

dressed in a satin robe, the long sleeves draping over your arms and the belt tied around your waist, you don’t answer him and instead pull his headphones off his head. you straddle his legs and sit on his lap.

“miss you,” you simply say.

“ah, i’m sorry. i- i’ve just been…” he pauses for a moment, watching your hands untying the knot of your robe. “caught up, with, um… work.”

“can you make some time for me, then?” you taunt, the knot now undone, nothing keeping your robe from opening and revealing your nude body underneath.

“of course, baby,” mark breathes out, satisfied to see you pulling the sides of the bathrobe apart, tits and stomach uncovered, naked pussy sitting right on top of his clothed cock. shit.

he can’t help himself from grabbing the back of your neck and bringing your lips to his, kissing feverishly. you moan into his mouth, hands on his chest, fumbling the fabric of his graphic tee between your fists.

he kisses you until you’re a disheveled mess, lips swollen and glossy from both of your saliva. you move your hips back and forth , basically humping his bulge, until you reach down to pull on his shorts, impatient to take his cock out.

he lets go of your lips when your hand wraps around his length, slumping down against the chair’s back. his glasses slip down his nose a little while he has his mouth open, letting out heavy breaths.

mark groans when you spit in the palm of your hand, smearing your saliva all over his cock, slowly pumping it to make it hard.

“gonna ride me, baby?” mark looks into your eyes, his lenses reflecting the ceiling light, eyebrow lifted up.

you grin, twisting your wrist, wanting his cock as hard as possible like you know it can be. rock hard, like he loves to tell you when he’s got a boner in the middle of the day for no apparent reason other than ‘was thinking about you’.

“yeah,” you confirm, “gonna make it wet and messy,” you tease, a small smile adorning your lips.

“you’d like that, hm? little minx,” he lightly chuckles, wetting his lips with his tongue, laying his big hands on your hips as you lift them up.

you bring his cock to your cunt, tapping his head against your clit and passing it through your wet pussy lips. with the curse he lets out, you know he’s pretty sensitive now. you can feel it; he’s heavy and hard, ready to be snuggled between your walls.

you slowly sink down on him, taking your time while he stretches you out deliciously. you both moan in unision, the feeling of him in you so familiar and addictive.

when you’re fully seated down on him, you start grinding your hips, his hands guiding you over his strong lap.

“fuck, yeah-” he frowns, clenching his jaw, “just like that, good job, baby…”

you only whine in response, rocking your hips back and forth, his cock covered in your slick, arousal dripping down his balls. your bodies moving make the leather of the chair creak underneath you, the skin of your knees sticking to it because of the heat and sweat.

his hands go further into your robe, grabbing your asscheeks firmly. he’ll probably leave the trace of his fingers on your flesh, but you really don’t care. you love wearing his marks.

you roll your hips over his lap vigorously, already out of breath, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. you remember that your tits are completely out when mark dives down, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking on it. the feeling makes you mewl, gripping the damp hair at the nape of his neck.

he shifts to your other breast, giving your nipple the same treatment. he leaves plenty of kisses there, too, especially on the valley between your tits. when he pulls away, your skin shines in his spit.

mark tries to suppress another groan from leaving his throat, but you hear it well and loud in your ear, letting you know he’s close. you clench around him, and he tightens his hold on your ass at that, nails digging into your soft, sweaty skin.

“mmm, baby,” he lets out an unbashful moan, throwing his head back before glancing at you, “you’re gonna be a good girl and take all of my cum, right?”

you nod your head, excited to have him filling you up good like he always does.

“yeah,” he mimics the movement of your head, grinning. “you love it, don’t you? love being my little cumdump,” he purrs, and his words literally drive you crazy.

“love being yours,” you reply back, riding his cock when he suddenly stops you from moving.

he raises his hips from the chair, thrusting up in you. he takes control over you, slapping his hips upward until his cock twitches, spurts of cum flooding your pussy. at the same time, you hide your face in the crook of his neck, waves of pleasure shooting through you as you cum around him.

his hips fall back down, now completely exhausted. his glasses fog up as he breathes out heavily, chasing the air back into his lungs.

you eventually lift up your hips and mark’s cock slips out of your sore pussy. he looks down, a little chuckle escaping his mouth.

“weren’t lying when you said you’d make it messy, hm?”

#nct smut #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader #mark smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #nct hard hours

2K notes · View notes

camzeecorner · 1 month

Text

TEACH HER 18+

part two here

pairing : matt, chris, nate x sub!femreader

Summary : Nicole spends time with her friends. Matt, Chris, and Nate. During a casual hangout, the conversation shifts to sex when Nate shares his secrets, prompting Matt and Chris to join in. Noticing Nicole's silence and confusion about the topic, they decide to enlighten her that night, exploring various aspects of intimacy and how to discover pleasure in her own body.

warnings : virgin reader, no p in v, eating out, fingering?, cum eating, squirting, pet names, boob sucking, praise, manipulation if you squint. lmk what I missed!

﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡

The soft glow of string lights illuminated Nicole's room, casting a warm ambiance that enveloped her and her friends. The walls were adorned with posters of their favorite bands, and the faint scent of vanilla candles filled the air. Nicole sat cross-legged on her bed, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness as Matt, Chris, and Nate sprawled across the floor and her desk chair, laughing and joking.

“Okay, okay, so who wants to go first?” Matt grinned, leaning back with his hands behind his head. His confidence was palpable, and it made Nicole both admire and envy him.

“I’ll go,” Chris said, his voice steady. “So, there was this one time at a party…” He paused for dramatic effect, glancing around the room as if the walls themselves were listening. “I was talking to this girl, and things were going great. We ended up sneaking away to a quieter spot. You know how it goes.” He chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly. “We kissed, and then, well… one thing led to another.”

“Dude, no way!” Matt interrupted, his eyes wide with excitement. “Did you actually—”

“Yeah, we did,” Chris admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. “But it was so awkward! I mean, I had no idea what I was doing. I was just trying to remember what I’d seen in movies. It was like a comedy show gone wrong.”

Nicole couldn’t help but laugh, the tension in the room easing a little. But as the conversation continued, she felt a wave of vulnerability wash over her.

Nate, who had been quiet until now, shifted in his seat. “I think the first time is always awkward,” he said, his voice thoughtful. “I remember mine. It was with my girlfriend, and I was so nervous. I kept overthinking everything—like, what if I messed it up? What if it hurt her?” He looked at Nicole, his expression sincere. “I wanted it to be perfect, but it turned out to be… well, not what I expected.”

“What do you mean?” Matt asked, his curiosity piqued.

Nate sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It was just… there was this pressure to perform, you know? I wanted to impress her, but I ended up just feeling lost. We laughed about it afterward, but in the moment, I felt like I was failing.”

“That’s so relatable,” Chris said softly, his heart aching for him. “I think we all put so much pressure on ourselves, especially when it comes to something so intimate.”

“Exactly!” Matt chimed in, his tone shifting to a more serious note. “I mean, it’s supposed to be this amazing thing, but it can be so confusing. I’ve had my fair share of awkward moments too. Like, once I tried to be all smooth, and I ended up knocking over a lamp. Total disaster!”

The room erupted in laughter, but Nicole could sense the deeper emotions beneath the surface. She shifted uncomfortably on her bed, twiddling with the loose strings on her blanket.

Nate glanced at Nicole, his expression shifting from casual curiosity to concern as he noticed the turmoil behind her eyes. It seemed she had withdrawn into a world of unspoken thoughts since their earlier chat. The air felt heavy with unshared words, and he sensed she was carrying an unseen weight. Leaning in, he broke the silence gently. “What about you, Nicole?”

When he said her name, it was like a lifeline pulling her back from her thoughts. She blinked, momentarily lost, as his warm gaze brought her back to reality. With her heart racing, she took deep breath’s collecting herself.

She giggled softly, glancing down at her lap. “What about me?” she asked in a quiet voice. She was unsure of what they were discussing and if she even wanted to know. Feeling lost throughout the conversation, she tried to piece together their words. The atmosphere seemed to shift, growing colder against her skin. She fluttered her eyes up to look at the boys.

She could hear Chris laughing silently at the earlier remarks. Matt looked at her, clearing his throat and sitting up straight. “Your first time... what was it like?” She met his gaze, completely confused by his question. “My first time what?” she asked, not grasping what he was getting at.

The boys giggled lightly. “Your first time having sex...” Chris said cheerfully, tilting his head to the side. She felt her cheeks heat up under their stares. She had thought they were just teasing her.

She felt like she was sinking into her mattress, completely hopeless. Her ears heated up and rang slightly. “...I don’t know what that is...” she spoke quietly.

Nate’s eyes widened in disbelief at her comment, his mind racing to process what he had just heard. Matt stifled a giggle, pressing his lips together to contain his amusement. Chris, on the other hand, stared at her with an unreadable expression, his brow furrowing slightly. “Wait...” Matt finally broke the silence, leaning forward with curiosity. “You’re telling us that you’ve never had sex?” She let out a frustrated sigh, shrugging her shoulders as irritation bubbled up inside her at the awkward direction of the conversation.

“I guess... I don’t even know what sex is...” she said, turning away from the boys and shifting her body at an angle to avoid their gazes. Embarrassment washed over her like a wave, making her feel small and excluded from the conversation. “You never had the sex talk with your parents?” Nate asked, still in utter shock, his voice tinged with disbelief.

She flipped onto her back, her gaze fixed on the ceiling as if searching for answers in the texture of the paint. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she shut her eyes, trying to block out the world around her. “...No... is that bad?” she spoke in a frail voice, the vulnerability evident in her tone. Chris licked his lips thoughtfully before getting up and walking toward her bed, settling beside her with a quiet intensity.

Chris ran his fingers through his hair, turning to face her with a serious expression. She sat up, bracing herself for what he was about to say. “It’s not exactly good to be unaware of it...” Chris began, choosing his words carefully to ensure she would understand. “Sex is something you should know about; it’s an important part of life.” She listened intently, absorbing every word he spoke. “What is it?” she asked, glancing around the group for answers. Matt and Nate exchanged looks before shifting their focus back to Chris, who met their gaze, ready to clarify further.

The boys were in shock, their minds racing as they processed the reality that they would have to teach their best friend about sex. They weren’t upset with her; instead, they felt a wave of empathy wash over them. They understood the constraints her parents had placed on her. Strict Christians, her parents had meticulously guided her down what they deemed the “right path,” which meant shielding her from the outside world. This overprotection kept her away from people, boys, and the very concept of sex, leaving her unprepared for the realities of life that everyone else seemed to take for granted.

“Sex is something...” Matt began, snapping his fingers and rubbing his temples as if searching for the right word. “...valuable,” Nate chimed in, finishing Matt's thought. Chris nodded in agreement, his expression serious as he recognized the weight of their conversation. The atmosphere was charged with the importance of what they were trying to convey, and the boys knew they had to get it right for her sake.

“Okay, Nicole, listen,” Chris began, his voice steady yet gentle, trying to ease the tension in the air. He shifted slightly, ensuring he had her full attention. “Sex is a natural part of life, something that happens between two people who care about each other. It’s not just a physical act; it’s also emotional. When two people decide to be intimate, they share a connection that goes beyond just their bodies.”

He paused, searching her eyes for understanding before continuing. “It’s about trust and respect. You should feel safe with the person you choose to be with. It’s important to know that it’s okay to wait until you’re ready. There’s no rush; it’s a big step, and it should never feel forced.”

Chris took a deep breath, wanting to make sure she grasped the concept fully. “When people have sex, it can lead to different things—like a deeper bond or even starting a family. But it also comes with responsibilities, like being safe and considering the feelings of everyone involved. It’s not just about pleasure; it’s about being responsible and caring for one another.”

He looked at her earnestly, hoping she could see the importance of what he was saying. “So, if you ever have questions or feel unsure, talk to someone you trust. It’s better to be informed than to go into it blindly.”

“Someone I trust?” she asked hesitantly, her eyes darting around the group for support. The boys nodded encouragingly, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity. “Well... I trust you guys,” she finally admitted, her voice gaining strength.

Nate’s head snapped up at her words, surprise etched across his face. “What are you saying?” he asked, his tone calm but laced with intrigue.

“I mean... I know you said it’s between two people, but... I trust all of you. Why can’t we all have sex... together?”

Matt suddenly choked on his drink, caught off guard by her bold question, his eyes widening in disbelief. The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of her words hanging in the air as the boys exchanged glances, unsure of how to respond to her unexpected proposal.

Matt sucked in a breath, his expression serious as he prepared to speak. “It’s possible...” he began, his voice steady but cautious. “But that’s something you really need to be sure about.” He glanced at Nate, who nodded in agreement, his gaze focused intently on Nicole.

“Especially for your first time,” Nate added, his tone softening. “Those moments are meant to be special, something you’ll remember forever. It’s important to think about what you truly want and how it feels to share that with someone.” The atmosphere grew heavy with the significance of their words, each boy acutely aware of the weight of the decision they were discussing.

“I am sure,” she spoke up defensively, her voice firm and resolute. Frustration bubbled beneath the surface; she was tired of being treated like a child. If others could explore the pleasures within their own bodies, why couldn’t she? Curiosity sparked within her, an eagerness to learn more about the complexities of intimacy.

“Doll, you really have to think about it,” Chris interjected, his tone serious as he ran a hand down his face, a gesture that revealed his concern. The weight of the conversation hung in the air, and he searched her eyes for understanding, hoping she would consider the implications of her decision.

“Please,” she spoke up, her voice tinged with desperation. She was willing to do anything to convince the boys, her heart racing as she laid it all on the line. The boys exchanged glances, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Matt smirked, his expression playful as he shot them the ‘I say let’s do it’ look, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

Chris rolled his eyes at his brother, a mix of exasperation and concern on his face. “If we do this...” he began, his tone serious as he locked eyes with her. “You have to be honest with us, okay? Tell us if you’re hurt, uncomfortable, or if it’s too much. If you want to stop, just say ‘purple.’” His gaze bore into hers, emphasizing the importance of trust and communication in this moment.

She sat up, her excitement palpable as she nodded her head rapidly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “What do I do first?” she asked, her voice filled with eagerness. Matt and Nate began to rise, making their way over to her bed, their movements confident as they took seats close by, creating an intimate circle around her.

Chris, however, moved with a gentle assurance, placing a hand on her arm and pulling her slightly toward him. “Be patient, okay?” he spoke in a calm, soothing voice, his tone a grounding presence amidst her excitement. She nodded softly at his words, feeling the weight of his reassurance settle within her.

Chris gently pulled her small frame closer, guiding her to sit between his legs. He hooked his own legs around hers, creating a secure space as he spread her legs slightly apart. The unexpected movement caught her off guard, and she let out a soft giggle, the sound light and playful in the air as she adjusted to the new position.

Chris wrapped his arms around her waist, his fingers playfully dancing just above the waistband of her small shorts. A gasp escaped her lips at his touch, a rush of warmth flooding through her in a way she had never experienced before. She squirmed slightly, trying to shake off the unfamiliar sensation that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Nate, observing her movements, couldn’t help but smirk to himself, amused by the tension in the air.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Nate asked, his gaze locking onto hers. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back against Chris's chest, seeking comfort in his presence. “It feels uncomfortable,” she admitted, her voice trembling slightly as the words slipped out.

Matt bit his lip, intrigued. “What’s that, doll?” he prompted, leaning in closer. “My private area…” she whispered, her cheeks flushing as she spoke. “Yeah?” Chris replied, his voice low and seductive as he leaned in to her ear. “Mmhm,” she groaned, the sound escaping her lips, filled with a mix of confusion and unexpected thrill.

“You wanna know why?” Chris hummed softly against her neck, his warm breath sending shivers down her spine as he peppered gentle kisses on her delicate skin. She nodded, her heart racing with anticipation. “That’s because…” he whispered, his voice low and intimate.

With a teasing touch, he slipped his slim fingers into her shorts, grazing the fabric of her panties, sending a jolt of electricity through her. “..you’re wet,” he finished, his words hanging in the air, thick with tension and desire.

She hummed at his touch, a wave of relief washing over her as the sensation coursed through her body. “I’m wet?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, small and uncertain.

Matt shifted uncomfortably in his seat, feeling the fabric of his pants tighten around him. “Yeah, I’ve barely done anything, and you’re soaked,” he replied, his tone revealing a mix of surprise and intrigue.

She loved the feeling of his fingers tracing against her core, each delicate stroke igniting a fire within her. She forced her hips upward, desperately seeking more of his touch, craving the connection that sent shivers through her entire body.

“Look at you… you’re getting all wet from a little touch…” Chris whispered teasingly in her ear, his breath warm against her skin. She felt her eyes rolling back in pleasure, completely lost in the sensation, unable to get enough of the intoxicating feeling. But just as the waves of ecstasy began to build, Chris suddenly pulled his fingers away, jolting her out of her trance and leaving her yearning for more.

She looked up at Chris, her eyes shimmering with a sad and desperate expression. “W-…why’d you stop?” she asked softly, her voice tinged with longing. Chris met her gaze, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he replied, “Why don’t we let Matt have a turn…” His gaze trailed up to his brother, the air thick with unspoken tension.

He slid from underneath her, smoothly taking Matt’s spot next to Nate, the shift in weight creating a palpable tension in the air. Matt climbed into Chris’s former position, settling back into the familiar space he had occupied moments before. As he ran his fingers up and down her thighs, he could feel goosebumps rising on her skin, each gentle caress igniting a spark of anticipation that danced across her body.

His fingers found their way back to the place where she ached most, sliding in a slow, deliberate motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through her. She tipped her head back, her mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as little pants and fragile breaths escaped her lips. “Matt…” she began, her voice barely above a whisper. “Hmm,” he hummed softly in response, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He could feel the effect he was having on her, the wetness on her panties growing, a testament to her desire as he continued to tease her senses.

He slipped his hand into her underwear feeling the cold wet feeling on her folds. “Oh matt..” she moaned grabbing his hand. “It’s okay.. you’re okay.” He spoke to her. He started with slow strips, going up and down her folds. She bit her lip shutting her eyes.

He started moving his fingers in a circular motion, making her legs twitch beneath him. He was going at a painfully slow pace, making her heart race and chest rise. He sped the movement of his fingers up slightly.

“Does that feel good?” Matt asked in a teasing voice, his tone playful yet intimate. She nodded her head, too overwhelmed to form words, her breath coming in quick, shallow gasps. A tightening sensation gripped her lower stomach, each wave of pleasure intensifying as she struggled to keep her composure.

“My… my stomach…” she squealed, a mix of surprise and pleasure in her voice. She could feel her stomach caving in, a sensation both foreign and exhilarating. The unfamiliar way her body was reacting left her breathless, as if every nerve ending was on fire, igniting a whirlwind of sensations she had never experienced before.

“You’re about to cum,” Matt spoke in a soft, enticing voice. He quickened the pace of his fingers, moving even faster, sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She yelped, arching her back in response to the overwhelming sensations. In a moment of instinct, she closed her thighs tightly, but Matt gently pushed them apart, his touch firm yet reassuring, keeping her exposed to the rising tide of ecstasy.

She was panting heavily, her breaths coming in rapid, uneven gasps as her vision blurred at the edges. A wave of shock coursed through her body, making it difficult to focus on anything around her. Every muscle felt tense and heavy, as if weighed down by an invisible force. Her legs trembled uncontrollably, a numbness creeping in that left her feeling both exhilarated and disoriented. “You came,” Matt giggled, his voice light and teasing, cutting through the haze of her sensations.

She opened her eyes slowly, the world around her coming into focus as she tried to regain her strength, still riding the waves of an intense high. “Did it feel good?” Chris asked, his voice soft as he reached forward to caress her leg gently. “It felt really good,” she replied, her voice cracking from the emotions and tears she had let out, each word tinged with a mix of vulnerability and relief.

Matt pulled his hand from her giving his fingers a lick. He moaned at the tatse of her juices. He was in pure awe. “You tatse so sweet baby.” He smiled down at her. “Here” he placed his hand to her mouth allowing her to suck one of his fingers. She was unsure of what to expect. She moaned at the taste. It was sweet like a rich honey. “That’s what you taste like” she sucked his finger clean releasing his finger with a pop sound. She looked at the boys, “what do you tatse like” nate smirked at her comment, “that’s for next time, todays about you and your pleasure”

Nate rose to his feet, striding purposefully toward her. Matt shifted away, returning to the chair he had occupied just an hour before, leaving the space between them charged with anticipation. Nate gently guided her body until she lay flat against the soft surface of the bed, adjusting her position to bring her closer to the edge. He sank to his knees on the plush carpet below, a sense of devotion evident in his posture. With careful hands, he lifted her legs and rested them on his shoulders, creating an intimate connection that spoke volumes without words.

Nate's hands glided up and down her thighs, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through her. He flashed a gentle smile that lit up his face, then leaned in to plant soft, lingering kisses along her skin, each one a tender caress. As he inched closer to the delicate inner part of her thighs, the air between them crackled with a mix of anticipation and intimacy, making the moment feel electric and alive.

“M’gonna take these off, okay?” he said softly, his voice laced with a gentle reassurance. With deliberate movements, he grasped the waistband of her shorts, slowly pulling them down in one smooth motion, revealing her underwear beneath. As he continued, he slid both the shorts and the fabric underneath down together, his touch careful and respectful, creating an atmosphere of trust and intimacy.

He gently grazed his fingers over her core, feeling the warmth radiating from her skin. In that moment, he couldn’t help but be in awe of her; she was stunning, perfectly sculpted in every way. A soft whine escaped her lips at his touch, the familiar warmth and wetness returning, intensifying the connection between them.

He slipped a finger through her folds, the slickness igniting a flutter in his heart that he couldn't ignore. He craved more, the desire overwhelming him. Wasting no time, he dove in, taking a bold lick that made her cry out in surprise and pleasure. Her legs instinctively clamped shut, trapping his head between her thighs, but that only fueled his determination to continue.

He kitten-licked her, savoring the sweet, intoxicating wetness that filled his senses. A deep groan escaped him as he gripped her thighs, his fingers sinking into her soft skin, pulling her closer as he lost himself in the moment.

“Oh g-god—” her breath hitched, caught off guard by the sensation of two mouths suddenly attaching to her. Matt and Chris sat across from her, their lips exploring her neck with a fervor that sent shivers down her spine. She hadn’t even noticed them move, completely enveloped in the unexpected pleasure that consumed her.

Matt bunched her shirt up, pulling it off her with a swift motion. They gazed at her bare chest, their eyes filled with a mix of admiration and mischief as they exchanged smirks. Wasting no time, Chris and Matt leaned in, their mouths eagerly sucking at her smooth skin, feeling her buds harden beneath their warm, teasing lips.

Nate was eating her like his last meal making sure to lap up every juice. He was so addicted to her taste. Her pure innocence was gone for sure. He was thrusting into the air being in so much pleasure himself. He was desperate to find some friction. She was shaking uncontrollably not knowing how much more she could take. Nate was eating her so well she was sobbing uncontrollably. She was sure she would be limp tomorrow. She whined as she was rolling her heat on his face feeling his nose brush against her.

Nicole let out a desperate scream as a wave of sensation coursed through her, tightening her stomach once more. The feeling of Chris and Matt’s mouths skillfully working on her chest, paired with the intoxicating pleasure of Nate’s tongue, sent her spiraling toward the edge. She felt as if she might explode from the overwhelming mix of sensations, each touch igniting a fire within her that she could barely contain.

She tangled her fingers in Nate’s hair, a desperate attempt to pull him away as her chest rose and fell rapidly with each breath. “I-I’m… I’m so—” Her words faltered as she felt her breath hitch, her gaze fixating on the liquid spilling out of her. In a frantic effort to close her legs, she felt Nate begin to softly pat her aroused heat. A loud scream escaped her lips, tears streaming down her face as the intensity of the moment overwhelmed her.

As Nate ceased his movements, she struggled to catch her breath, her chest heaving with each labored inhale. Matt and Chris pulled away, detaching their lips from her skin, their expressions a mix of satisfaction and exhaustion. They all sat up, breathless, the air thick with the remnants of their shared intensity, each of them trying to regain their composure in the aftermath of the overwhelming experience.

“Well… that was…” Matt began, his voice trailing off as he processed the sheer shock of the moment. Nate, with a playful grin, was licking the remains of juice that had spilled onto his face, savoring every drop. “I’d do that again,” he laughed, the sound light and carefree.

Nicole laid limply on her bed, a blissful smile gracing her lips. “You okay?” Chris asked gently, running his fingers through her hair, his touch soothing. She nodded softly, her heart still racing. “That was really nice,” she admitted, her smile widening. “Can we do that more often?” She glanced around at the group, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

They exchanged looks, a silent understanding passing between them. “Sure,” Matt replied softly, his hand caressing her cheek, a tender gesture that deepened the moment.

“I think it’s safe to say I really enjoy sex!” Nicole joked, a playful grin spreading across her face. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she sighed, clearly reveling in the lighthearted atmosphere.

﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡ ★ ﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡

A/n: wow.. this one was so intense!! lmk if u like the smut content, lowk enjoy writing it!!

#camzeespills #nate doe #nathan doe #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #chris x reader #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets x reader #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfiction

551 notes · View notes

pure-smut · 2 months

Text

wind breaker boys - how they eat you out.

featuring: Haruka Sakura, Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya

contains: f!reader, cunnilingus (obvs), some orgasm control from Kaji, mild somnophilia from Umemiya

note: all characters are aged up to 18+!

word count: 1k

masterlist

MDNI | 18+ content

Haruka Sakura loves eating you out but he’s too damn shy to ask most of the time. You have to make it obvious you want it too, pushing his head down while you’re making out on his bed.

“Want to feel your tongue, Haru,” you tell him, an ounce of begging in your voice. “Please.”

His face goes beet red but he obliges, hiding his blushing cheeks by pressing kisses against your stomach and thighs. The first time Sakura went down on you, he was a mess – he tried his best, but he didn’t know what he was doing and the pressure of wanting to make you feel good nearly made his head explode.

Still, Sakura’s always open to gentle instruction and you let him know exactly what to do. Now, as he presses the flat of his tongue against your clit, one finger pressing inside your hole, he knows exactly how to make you cum.

You lie back with a content sigh and your boyfriend deftly laps at your sensitive bud, your fingers tangled in his two-tone hair. When you look down at see his gold and black eyes looking back at you, intent and hungry, it sets off butterflies in your stomach.

Sakura sucks on your clit with the exact pressure you like as his finger strokes against the sensitive bundle of nerves inside you. You’re a sopping mess before long, moaning and gasping his name. Sakura swears he could listen to you like this all day.

Yeah, it might have taken him a couple attempts but god, can he make you cum.

Ren Kaji loves how helpless you get when he eats you out.

Yeah, he loves the taste of you and he loves making you cum, but he loves the control he has over getting you there the most. To Kaji, it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

He especially likes it when you’re trying to concentrate on something else. Like now, when you’re at the desk in your bedroom, trying to study. Kaji had been on your bed as you both sat in companiable silence, the way you both like to do. But when he looked up from his phone and saw the adorable notch between your brow and the way you nibbled at the top of your pencil, he couldn’t help himself.

Kaji tugs off his headphones and stands, crossing the space between you. You’re so absorbed in your study, you don’t realise he’s there until his sucker appears before you.

“Oh. Thanks, Ren,” you say before opening your mouth and taking it.

“I’ll get in a back in a bit.”

You don’t register what he means until he crawls under the desk, making space between your thighs.

“What- Ah!”

You gasp as you feel his tongue against your clothed pussy, wet and hot. You go to wheel your chair backwards but Kaji has a firm hold of the wheels, locking you in place.

“Just keep going, babe,” he mumbles from between your legs.

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to do that when Kaji’s thick tongue pushes past your panties to lick at your folds. You take a deep breathe and try to steady your thumping heart. It’s fine, you tell yourself. I can still concentrate.

You try to refocus your eyes on the paper in front of you but the words are scrambled. Kaji takes his time, lazily swirling his tongue over your clit before sucking on your lips. His sucker rattles over your teeth as your mouth falls open, a sigh escaping.

“R-Ren,” you stammer. “I need to – ah – study.”

“I’m not stopping you,” Kaji says before lapping at your clit.

The sweet sounds you make are the only thing that makes not wearing his headphones bearable. You reach down under the desk and card your fingers through his hair, tugging at the root. You angle your hips slightly giving him better access. Kaji uses the opportunity to slide his tongue into your hole, tasting your arousal.

You’ve totally given up on studying, your thighs locking around his head as Kaji brings you close to orgasm but not quite reaching it. You’re impatient and whiny, your hips bucking for more friction against his mouth but Kaji holds back slightly.

Kaji isn’t in any hurry – he wants this to take as long as possible. He knows when you’re dripping and so, so needy, it’ll be worth it.

Hajime Umemiya would live between your legs if he could. Whether it’s his cock or his face that’s buried in your pussy, he doesn’t care. As long as he’s close to you, he’s happy.

That’s why it’s one of his favourite ways to wake you up.

You look so angelic when he wakes up next to you, sleeping soundly on his chest. Umemiya presses gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks until your stir but you’re not quite awake yet.

“Shh, it’s okay, angel,” he says quietly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Umemiya carefully rolls you onto your back, nestling himself between your legs. Your thighs spread automatically for him, which makes him smile and kiss your inner thigh.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he praises.

You’re both still naked from the night before and Umemiya is pleased there’s no obstacles between you, no physical barriers between your bodies. He loves the intimacy he gets to share with you.

Softly, he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, watching for your reaction. You stir again slightly so he licks another stripe. Deeper this time before circling your sensitive bud.

“Mmm,” you moan lightly, still mostly asleep.

Umemiya finds your hands next to you and intertwines his fingers with yours as he continues to make out with your puffy cunt. His mouth is flush with your pussy as he strokes the flat of his tongue across your clit.

“H…Haji…?” Your voice is thick with sleep but your body is responding on its own, your hips grinding against Umemiya’s mouth.

“Good morning, angel,” he pulls back slightly to say before planting another wet kiss against your clit.

“Good… ah! Good morning, Haji.” You smile down at him, squeezing your fingers between his. “That feels so good.”

Umemiya moans into your pussy, his tongue picking up speed to a pace he knows you like. You gasp and throw your head back against the pillow, fully awake now.

And god, what a way to wake up.

masterlist

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#wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker x you #wind breaker x y/n #sakura x reader #wbk x reader #sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka x you #sakura haruka smut #ren kaji x reader #ren kaji x you #ren kaji smut #hajime umemiya x reader #kaji ren x reader #umemiya x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya smut

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azrielslittleslut · 3 months

Text

His Darkness

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel's mate wants to... play in his dungeon.

Warnings: pure smut, 18+, knife play, shadow play, choking, dark!Az, p in v, language, pet names, praise/degradation, i probably forgot something but seriously this is dark

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: this is a *mostly* REPOST from my old tumblr @azshighlady. (I had to do some editing because I lost part of it, so some of it is new for those of you who read it before!) Unfortunately, this is the only fanfic from that tumblr that was saved.. but this was the first Az smut I ever wrote, so I wanted to share it on here!

Enjoy!

The dungeons of the Hewn City were unusually cold, and the growls of the beasts that dwelled below could be heard echoing along the walls. From above, you could hear the denizens of the Court of Nightmares drinking and laughing, totally oblivious to what was about to happen below them.

You shifted in the chair, trying to ignore the goosebumps that had appeared on your skin because of the chill in the air. You were only wearing a thin piece of lingerie, something that your mate had laid out for you. It was a black teddy, with thin straps connected across your shoulders, leading down to the completely see-through lace that barely covered your breasts and stomach. Your favorite part of it was the fact that it was crotchless.

Easy access, you thought to yourself.

You leaned back, wondering how much longer before Azriel would appear. He loved this game. He loved making you wait for him, keeping you on edge. His patience was infinite, and he was a master at torturing you with pleasure. Despite your whining and complaining, the wait was always worth it.

While you waited, you thought back to the conversation that led you here in the first place. It happened a few weeks ago while the two of you were eating dinner at home.

“I want to try something,” you said, looking at Azriel with scheming eyes. You were nervous to bring up this fantasy, scared that he would object. But your mate always did what he could to make you happy, sometimes even at the expense of himself.

Azriel smiled, noting the look in your eyes. “Oh, do tell, my love,” he said. “This sounds like it will be interesting.”

You stood and walked over to him, plopping yourself down in his lap. His scarred hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. “I want you to take me into your dungeon and play with me,” you whispered, trying to fight the blush that crept onto your cheeks. You looked up at him through your lashes, reading his expression.

He was silent, his mouth slightly open and his eyes wide. You immediately regretted bringing it up. Torturing and working in the dungeons was his job, what he did to protect his court. It would make sense if he did not want to bring that into his personal life, especially his life with you.

You pulled away, meaning to stand. “I’m sorry,” you muttered. “Forget I said anything.”

His grip on you tightened, holding you in place. “No, don’t apologize. I’m just surprised,” he admitted. He gripped your chin with his fingers, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want to scare you, love.”

You smiled at him, leaning your forehead against his. “You never scare me, Az. I love you, and I trust you. I want this. I want you, all of you. Darkness and all.”

Azriel had agreed after that, promising that he would do this for you. The conversation had been mostly forgotten, or so you thought. You had been surprised earlier when you had walked into the bedroom and noticed the lingerie on the bed with a note that said, The Spymaster requests your presence in his dungeon. Do not be late.

That had been hours ago. Hours of you sitting here, waiting, ignoring the growing wetness between your legs from the anticipation of what was to come. You started to wonder if he had forgotten or changed his mind.

You were about to stand to leave, thinking it was best to forget about this stupid fantasy when the shadows in the room started to move, growing thicker and darker. You sat back down, knowing your mate was here.

He appeared from the shadows, his hazel eyes glowing in the darkness. He was dressed in his leathers, and you noted how perfectly they molded to his muscled body. He flared his wings proudly before tucking them in and walking over to you. As he moved, you noticed Truth-Teller strapped to his thigh, the obsidian hilt gobbling up the shadows and darkness around.

“Did you get impatient, pet?” he asked in the voice that had no doubt broken countless enemies. There was no kindness or love in his tone or on his face. This was the shadowsinger, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court. The male who had fought in countless battles and won them all. The male who brought enemies to their knees and who had charmed allies. The male who was your mate.

How did you get so fucking lucky?

You bowed your head, lacing your hands in your lap. “No, sir,” you whispered. “I just needed to stretch my legs.”

Azriel hummed to himself, and you could feel his eyes raking every inch of your body. “My shadows tell me otherwise. They’ve been watching you, and it seems you thought you were going to get up and leave.” He clicked his tongue. “Bad prisoners get punished for disobeying my orders.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you couldn’t deny the thrill and excitement of this, of him. “My apologies, sir. It won’t happen again.”

He leaned forward, and you could feel his breath in your ear. “Do you remember your safe words?” he whispered, his voice like shadows given sound.

You nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He chucked darkly. “Let’s play then, pet.”

He gripped your thighs in his hands, spreading them open. “You’re already so wet for me, and I haven’t even touched you. So needy for me.”

His shadows crept up your legs, moving across your pussy. You throw your head back, letting out a moan that echoed along the stone walls. They danced along your clit, and you could feel your wetness dripping onto the chair and down your inner thighs. “Please, sir. Please touch me.” He had kept you waiting for so long, and your need for him was driving you crazy.

“You’re in my dungeon. You’re my prisoner. I will decide when I want to touch you. Understood?” he said, digging his finger into your skin for emphasis. He was gripping you so tight you knew there would be marks on your skin the next day.

Good. You love it when he marks you. Claims you.

You felt his shadows move, wrapping around your thighs. They tightened around them, and you realized they were holding your legs open. You tried to move them, but they had a firm grip. You were open and bare for your mate, and Azriel took in your body with a predatory hunger in his eyes.

"So pretty, wrapped up in my shadows," he murmured to himself as he reached down to pull Truth-Teller from where it was sheathed at his thigh. "I bet you will look even prettier when I fuck you with this."

Slowly, he ran the hilt of the blade through your cunt, covering it with your wetness. You cried out as he pushed it in, loving the feeling of the ridges along your walls. "Y-yes," you gasped.

Azriel began to thrust the blade in harshly. "Do you know how many people cower in fear when they see this blade?" he asked, his voice low. "How many people have lost their lives to it? But here you are.. being fucked by it. Such a dirty girl."

You were beyond words, totally focused on the feeling of the cold metal moving inside of you. You began to feel the early waves of your climax begin to build, and your legs started shaking.

"I want you to cum on my knife," he whispers, leaning down to bite your earlobe. "I want this to be covered in your scent so everyone knows who I belong to." He pushed it in as deep as it could go, and you moaned as waves of pleasure washed over you. "That's it, pet. Make a mess on my knife."

He pulled the blade out and pressed the tip against your lips. "Open," he commanded. "Clean it up."

You licked the metal, groaning at the taste of yourself. When he was satisfied with your work, he sheathed Truth-Teller once again at his thigh. His eyes darkened, and you gasped as you felt his shadows move up, wrapping themselves around your wrists. They lifted you out of the chair, securing themselves on a beam somewhere far above your head. The shadows around your thighs tightened as they spread your legs open more.

You were hanging in his dungeon, bound by his shadows, completely at his mercy.

Azriel settled himself between your thighs as he quickly opened his trousers. He grabbed you by the throat, squeezing softly. "I won't be gentle."

You nodded. "I don't want gentle."

He smirked, pushing his cock inside of you in one powerful thrust. You threw your head back, your arms straining against the shadows. He set a brutal pace, and you cry out at the feeling of his balls slapping against you.

"Fuck, yes!" you moan. "Just like that." His cock hit the deepest parts of you, causing your eyes to roll back. More of his shadows began to touch you, teasing your clit. You let out a moan that sounded inhuman as you came again, spilling your essence all over yourself and Azriel.

His thrusts became erratic, totally wild, and unchecked. He groaned as he came, spilling himself into your womb. He kept thrusting, making sure nothing leaked out. "Gotta fill you up," he murmured.

He hated when he cum leaked out of you.

For a few moments after, the only sound that could be heard in the quiet dungeon was your ragged breaths. His shadows released you, and you immediately wrap your arms around his neck. He held you against him, keeping your legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

His eyes were no longer full of lust. Now, they had lightened to their normal hazel, and they were full of love. "Are you alright? Was that alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice.

You giggled, leaning forward to kiss him. "That was amazing, my love. You are amazing."

Azriel was your mate, your love, your friend. It had always been the two of you against the world, and that's how it always would be. He was yours and you were his, and you accepted every part of him.

His darkness could never scare you.

#azriel #azriel smut #azriel fanfic #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #acotar smut #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #azriel spymaster #a court of thorns and roses #truth teller #truth teller is a multi-purpose tool #dee writes

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rafeandonlyrafe · 5 months

Text

chat part two

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only, cockwarming, p in v, very fluffy compared to part one i just wanted an excuse to write cockwarming sorry!, established relationship, streamer!rafe, gamer!rafe

part one / part two

“no, don't go.” you whine, gripping onto rafes hand, trying to pull him back down on the bed.

“im supposed to stream soon, baby.” rafe says, leaning back down to press a kiss against your lips.

you usually don't mind when he has to go stream, but you're feeling incredibly clingy today as you tug at his hand again when he doesn't lay back down, doesn't continue the cuddle session.

“why don't you come with me?” he offers. “you can sit on my lap while i play?”

that has you perking up, nodding rapidly. “can you carry me to your stream room though?”

your legs work perfectly fine, but that doesn't stop you from wanting rafe to carry you around everywhere, loving the way your bodies can stay pressed together.

rafe smiles softly, reaching down to scoop you into his arms. “you're lucky you're so damn cute.”

“love you.” you coo, pressing your lips to his neck as he carries you out of the bedroom and down the hallway. you don't hide the fact that your kisses quickly turn to sucks as you leave a hickey for everyone to see, yet again claiming your territory, not that rafe let's anyone even get close enough to try anything.

rafe sits down in his gamer chair and you quickly adjust to straddle him, your chests pressed together as he begins clicking buttons, setting up his stream.

“remember that time i sucked you off on live?” you ask with a small giggle.

“yeah, i remember how much shit i got from twitch.” rafe chuckles, dropping one hand to squeeze your ass. “totally worth it.”

“maybe… maybe i could sit on it?” you don't form the actual words, just alluding to what you're really asking for.

rafe hums, thinking it over briefly. he almost got his twitch partnership revoked, it even went as far as to threaten a ban despite nothing actually being seen.

“you gotta actually sit still though.” he says. having your tight cunt wrapped around him will be well worth the possibility of a ban. plenty other streaming services would jump at the chance to have him exclusively anyways.

“promise.” you kiss rafes jaw as you slide your shorts and underwear off. rafe adjusts the camera, zooming it in more and changing the angle so there's no possible chance for your ass to be on screen as you pull his cock out of his pants.

“gonna start the stream now. get me hard then get on my cock.” rafe says, waiting for you to nod before clicking the button to start the live.

your body hides his privates as well, the camera just seeing rafe from the chest up as well as the back of your head.

“babygirl is feeling clingy today so she's joining me.” rafe says as the viewers start to roll in. “isn't she just the cutest?”

you smile, turning your head slightly to grin at the camera before focusing back on what you really want.

you wrap your hand around rafes cock, stroking him subtly until he's hard enough for you to raise your hips, hovering against his tip before slowly sinking down.

you let out a soft moan, remembering to press your mouth against his shirt to muffle the noise.

it's hard to stay still, but your eyes drift close and eventually as rafe streams, the gnawing need to get fucked or move decreases, and you find yourself enjoying the stillness.

“love you so much bun.” rafe whispers, kissing the side of your head as you're slumped against him.

“couple more games and ill be done, yeah?”

“um…” you glance at the time, blinking away the bit of sleep. rafe is always down to end a stream whenever you want, but you also don't want to force him to stop early. “im actually okay. you can keep going.”

“really?” he laughs as a new game begins. “not desperate to start bouncing?”

you shake your head no. “i actually kinda like just this.” you admit softly, laying your head back down.

rafe keeps streaming, his cock inside of you, warm and secured, your bodies secretly connected while you sleep on his shoulder, chat going crazy about how cute you are sleeping against him, wishing they were in your position.

rafe smirks seeing the comments. if only they knew.

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theharddeck · 4 months

Text

it'd be a sweet situation (bob floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: what's better than finding out the WSO you've had a secret crush is the same audio erotica creator that you've been crushing on for months? getting to watch him record new content...and maybe get involved yourself

word count: 5.9k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly absurd amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, oral sex (m and f!receiving), PiV penetration, some condescension and some dumbification.

A/N: not edited, not beta-ed, we publish for affirmation and speed babyyyy.

this post is a part 2 of my fic do you wanna make somethin' of it -- thanks for the love on the original!! hope y'all like! i may be planning a third so lmk if this scratches the itch or if we want breeding kink!bullriderrhett

When you asked Bob if you could listen to him record, he blinked at you, his expression somewhere between flattered and surprised, as a pink spread over his cheeks.

You loved when Bob blushed.

It was the sweetest flush of pink, just so precious, and usually belied by something or another.

Like when the rest of his expression was innocent, but his hand was stroking the inside of your thigh underneath a table at the Hard Deck.

Like when you were begging him to let you come, praising every part of him that you could think of, and he looked up at you in wonder from between your legs.

Like when he asked you to be “his girl”, make it official after a couple months, and you’d agreed before he could get the rest of his prepared speech out.

Bob hadn’t posted in the last couple months (he explained that like you didn’t know), and his followers had been asking for something, anything, and you’d agreed that maybe something unscripted was the way to go.

So now you leaned back against the wall Bob’s bed was pushed up against, watching him move around his small room with a focused expression on his face. He’d untangled cords, set up a microphone with a windscreen, and a smile played about your lips, watching him. You were just so fond of him. He was kind, he was sweet, he was hot and he was yours.

You’d agreed to sit across the room, give him his space, but you had a sneaking suspicion this was going to really do it for you. You just hoped he wouldn’t be totally unaffected either.

He settled into his desk chair, cleared his throat, and started checking the microphone. He had a lamp set up over the desk, and it cast a golden glow over him. His brow was furrowed as he double checked his equipment, and you admired the way his tshirt fell over his shoulders, as he straightened things around his desk.

You could tell he was nervous. You could see it in the tightness of his expression, but you knew you’d both like this, so you smiled reassuringly over at him.

When he caught your eye, Bob smiled too, like he couldn’t help it.

“You ready?” he asked.

You nodded. “I’m excited.”

Bob huffed a laugh, shaking his head at you, at himself, the situation.

He cleared his throat, before leaning back. From where he was sitting at the desk. He could just catch the edge of the door to his bathroom, which he swung shut.

“Honey?” Bob called, his face still slightly turned from the mic, so it sounded far away. You imagined the door he’d slammed was a front door swinging shut, and instead of a long day of post-flight reviews, he’d been out on the ranch.

“There y’are,” Bob said, closer to the mic now, but he was looking at you. You wrinkled your nose at him, and his lips quirked in an attempt to not smile. This was silly, it was fun, and you adored that he was bringing you into the fantasy with him.

His head tipped to the side, golden hair falling in front of his glasses as he let out a long sigh.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

He said it so softly, like it was just an observation, fact, and you rolled your eyes at him. You were rewarded by his smile, beaming.

“Nah, don’t give me that,” Bob shook his head at you, and you loved him like this, easy and light, “don’t roll your eyes like it isn’t true. Y’know the kinda day I had?”

You raised an eyebrow, and Bob was still smiling, and you felt like it was an inside joke between the two of you. Whatever he was going to say as Rhett, you knew it would be about Miramar.

He started ad libbing, in that drawl of his that normally only came out when he was exhausted, and you let the fantasy wash over you. He might be talking about cattle and fence posts, but he meant FA-18s and potentiometers.

“And then here you are,” Bob said, his voice getting softer. “No matter the day I had, no matter what else, I get to come home to you. Doesn’t seem fair, does it? How’d I get so lucky, hmm?”

You shook your head at him; you were the lucky one.

“The luckiest,” Bob said, after a pause, like how you remembered he’d always waited on his recordings. Being with him now, knowing him how you did, you wondered if this’d been how he’d imagined it—with you here, with him, answering him.

“You missed me too?” Bob asked, almost curious. “Honey…don’t give me that look, come on. I know you’ve got supper on…”

The use of ‘supper’ was just darling, and it whisked you deeper into the fantasy. One where your world started and ended with Rhett, looking after him as he looked after you. Him keeping you safe, you keeping him taken care of.

In that fantasy, there was always time.

“Ah, you missed me like that,” Bob said, his voice dropping deeper. “That’s a pretty thought, isn’t it– my girl, in my house, just waitin’ for me to get home.”

His voice was almost dreamlike, and you shivered while he paused, waiting for the audience to say something.

“No, that’s not a fair question, honey; I always miss you,” he said, his head tilting back as he looked at you. “Miss how you look at me…how you say my name…how pretty your hair looks in this light…”

Bob laughed, a soft sound.

“You must’ve really missed me,” he teased, “if my voice is doing it for you like that. Bet you’re already wet for me, just listenin’ to me talking about wanting you, hmm? You gonna show me?”

And you hadn’t planned to, you really hadn’t.

But when Bob asked, acting like Rhett and talking like that, it made you want to. You pulled down your sweatpants before you could think about it, rewarded by the way Bob’s eyes widened like he hadn’t expected it either. He swallowed visibly, and he cleared his throat.

“Shit, honey, I didn’t think you’d actually…do we have time? Before supper?”

You smiled at him, lifting a shoulder like sure, you could make time. Bob’s eyes twinkled as he grinned back at you, like even through the ridiculous pretense of recording an audio, he saw you, and was glad you saw him.

“Alright, sweet girl, easy,” he said, his voice breathy, like you were rushing him. “Yeah, that’s it, feel me through my jeans.”

He palmed himself, a soft gasp slipping past his parted lips at the pressure of his grasp. You loved Bob’s hands, loved how they moved and worked over you, and seeing him grabbing himself was something else. He was a proportional man, but the bulge growing underneath his jeans didn’t seem any smaller, relative to such enormous hands.

“You can take me out,” Bob said, like it was a favor he was doing you, and you weren’t sure it wasn’t, as he slid the zipper down slowly. You’d seen him what felt like hundreds of times over the last few months, but you found yourself holding your breath as he shifted his hips to slide his jeans over his hips. He left them on just above his knees, and you could see the outline of his dick pressing against his boxers.

God, he looked good.

Slightly slouched in a chair, half undressed, his eyelids heavy as he looked through his lashes at you. He gave himself a lazy stroke over his boxers one more time, then pulled his cock out, sighing as his fingers wrapped around it. You pressed your lips together to trap in the pleased whimper that was threatening to escape; you couldn’t help it.

Bob reached for the lube, squeezing a little on his hand away from the microphone before he spread it along his cock. He moved slowly, so no wet sounds could be heard, not yet, but you watched his shoulders drop slightly at the pleasure of the softened glide.

“Does that feel good?” you asked it softly, quiet enough and from across the room, knowing you wouldn’t be heard, but at the sound of your voice, Bob’s eyes fluttered close.

“Fuck, honey,” he whispered, into the mic, but straight to you, “yeah, you feel so good.”

You loved that he meant it, that even though it was his hand, it was you that was making him feel this way.

You slipped a hand into your underwear, a whine slipping past your lips as you felt you were already wet. Bob’s eyes flew opened, his lips parting as he realized what you were doing. Even though he wasn’t touching you, you felt him, and it was always going to end here, wasn’t it? Bob’s sweet, sexy voice, you acting like it didn’t affect you, and then touching yourself with him.

“Sweet girl,” Bob breathed, and you heard it in his voice, his pride in you. You loved being that for him, being here with him. “You look so fucking pretty like this. In our house, that pretty hand wrapped around my cock—”

He broke off as you shifted, peeling your underwear away and running your fingers through your folds so he could see. You loved the image he was describing—coming home to each other, finding relief in each other’s bodies. A cowboy or a pilot, either way, this man was yours, and he made you feel so good.

“That’s it, honey,” Bob’s voice sounded gruff, and your eyes fell closed as you lost yourself in the fantasy. “Fuck, honey, your hands…you feel so good, shit. Here, honey, let’s get you out of this, yeah? Lemme play with that pussy, while you’re takin’ such good care of my cock.”

He could already see you, so it was just for the fantasy, but your knees fell open as you spread yourself open for him. Bob groaned, and your fingers brushed over your clit. You’d done this before, this scene he was describing, even if it was slightly different, so it was easy to envision. Both of you braced against the nearest wall, unable to look away from his cock in your hands, and him reaching for you, wanting to bring you the same pleasure. The way your fingers looked so small around his cock, the way his hand fit between your thighs, both of your knees going weak.

“So wet for me,” Bob praised, and your mouth dropped open as your fingers dipped between your folds, like his would. “You’re so perfect, so warm and ready for me…fuck, sweet girl, you make me want more than your hand.”

You moaned softly, your head falling back against the wall behind his bed. You wanted that too, more, and your hand wasn’t enough.

“I’ll take you to bed later,” Bob promised. “Lay you down, take my time with this pretty pussy, fill her up…ah, honey, fuck, I can feel you clenching on my fingers…How’d I get so lucky, hmm? You’re so perfect, so good for me, so fucking good for me…”

Bob trailed off with a moan, and you heard his hand speed up as he continued to praise you. You coveted the sounds, and more than that, you finally understood what he’d meant the first time you’d been together, because you were jealous of a fantasy. Anyone who listened to this recording, they’d hear Rhett telling them they were perfect, so good for him, and they could think on that all they wanted but Bob, Bob was yours.

Bob’s head fell back as his hand gripped his cock tightly. You saw his thighs tensing against the floor, and the column of his neck was exposed in the most inviting way so you took it as just that—an invitation.

“Honey, fuck, what are you doing?” Rhett’s reaction and Bob’s were the same, as he realized you were kneeling on the ground, your hand closing around his cock. Your knees spread on the hard floor, your fingers wet from your own desire, and wrapped around him. Bob moaned, a disbelieving, overcome sound, as you guided him into your mouth. His eyebrows creased worriedly, and his eyes darted to the microphone, but as your lips closed around his tip, you held his eyes, and you moaned.

Loud.

Loud enough for him to feel it, loud enough that you knew the mic picked up on it, loud enough that he knew it wasn’t an accident.

“Shit, baby,” Bob groaned, his voice low, “that mouth…”

And you would’ve smirked, but your mouth was too full of him. God, you loved how he felt. Heavy and thick and you didn’t love the taste of lube, but you worked your hand over his length and contented yourself with playing with his sensitive head. He just had the prettiest cock. It was leaking now, for you, and you lapped at him, traced each ridge and divet, teased the veins and pumped his length with your hand.

Bob was gasping, and when you looked back up at him, you couldn’t miss the adoration on his face. He looked at you like he couldn’t believe you were real, like he knew you were just as possessive as he was, and it made him even harder for you. That heat in his expression had your other hand sneaking between your legs, and Bob’s hand lifted to your hair, brushing it back. His big hand settled on top of your head, not controlling not forcing, but needing to touch you. Your thighs spread and you moaned again as your fingers brushed over your heat while he sat heavy on your tongue.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Bob rasped, his voice truly wrecked. “Keep playing with yourself. Ah, honey, I’m not gonna last long. Wanted you all day, and now those lips around my cock, fuck—”

He broke off as he hips pushed his cock farther into your mouth. As he did, you realized you couldn’t taste the lube on his cock anymore, only your arousal and the musky salt of him. God, you loved it. You tasted so good together, and you knew it was the farmwife fantasy, but you loved being this for him. Like you’d just been waiting for him to come home and get his hands in your hair, his cock in your mouth.

“You couldn’t wait till after dinner, could you?” Bob grunted, a hint of condescension creeping into his voice that made your eyes fall close. “You make me feel so good, honey, shit. That mouth, sweet girl, it’s so good. You’re taking me so well, like you needed this just as bad as I did—did you? Did this get you through the day too? Knowing it’d end with you on your knees for your man, his fat cock in your mouth?”

His glasses were sliding down his nose, his chest was heaving, and even tough his words were tinged with condescension, they couldn’t disguise the worship underneath. Each stroke of your tongue, hollowing of your cheeks, pulled a hitched breath or a soft gasp from him, and you loved each one. Your hand lifted from between your legs to his thigh, your nails digging into the pale hair there as you took him deeper as Bob groaned.

“Fucking hell, what you do to me, honey,” he groaned, his voice tight, and you really didn’t think you needed to breathe. You took him until your nose brushed the hair at his base, and Bob was panting like he’d just pulled 10 Gs, and he couldn’t tell which way was up. He moaned as you held there, his hand slipping from the top of your head to the back of your neck, cradling you. His thumb brushed the front of your throat, feeling where you were stretched around him, an he moaned again, a wrecked, gorgeous sound. You loved that he was past words, that everyone listening was just going to hear his gasps, those beautiful moans, and know you were here. Between his thighs, hands and marks on him, claiming him as yours.

“I’m gonna come, baby,” he gasped, and you felt your chest swell with pride, humming lightly so he knew it was okay. You pulled back, bobbing your head, and his moans grew longer until his hand moved again, holding your head steady as his cock jolted. He came hard down your throat, his warm release spilling down your throat, a claim of his own. You swallowed him down, your mouth loosening around his sensitive cock, and licking at him as he pulled out. You licked lightly around his cock, placing a teasing kiss on his tip, and Bob groaned softly.

You couldn’t hide how smug you felt.

That was your man, weak from the orgasm you gave him, sounding wrecked and satisfied from your mouth.

“You’re lookin’ real proud of yourself there,” Bob said, his voice gruff again. You sat back on your heels, smiling up at him. He chuckled softly, pulling you up as he leaned down to kiss you. His tongue swept into your mouth greedily, chasing a taste of the release you’d pulled out of him, and you loved that he was just as filthy as you were. His hands fell from your head to the tops of your shoulders, and he caressed the soft skin of your upper arms lightly.

“I’d better return the favor, hmm?” he murmured against your lips, and you opened your eyes to catch the spark of mischief in his eyes before his hands curled under your arms and he lifted you. He moved you quicker than you understood what was happening, and then you were in his seat, he was on his knees, and he wasted no time in diving between yours.

Your back arched off the chair at the first sweep of his tongue over your cunt, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, but it was too late for that.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bob pulled back to say, his longer fingers winding around your wrist and pulling it away from your mouth. “You had me moanin’ like a virgin when you got your lips on my cock, and I deserve to hear the same from you. Let me hear those sweet sounds, honey.”

His voice was deep, dark and teasing, but he was watching you carefully, and you knew if you said you were uncomfortable, he’d stop. Just like you knew you wouldn’t ask him to, because you wanted your claim on him on the recording. Not just that you’d pulled that orgasm from him, but that he was worshiping you, that you were his as much as he was yours.

You let your hand fall away, and Bob smiled sweetly at you before his mouth was back between your thighs. His tongue made you forget about the recording in no time, as his tongue worked over you. Bob always went at oral like it was end game, like it was a favor to him, like he never wanted to leave. He kissed and sucked, licked and teased, and soon you were panting with each stroke of his tongue.

“Y’sound so good, angel,” he murmured into your cunt, his voice thick, and you moaned as he pressed teasing kisses over your lower stomach and thighs. “How’s it feel?”

“So good, baby,” you whispered, your fingers winding into his hair and pulling him back into your pussy. He went, chuckling, but eagerly resuming his efforts. He spread you open with his thick fingers, his tongue delving into your cleft as he lapped at you, chasing the arousal that he’d stoked with just his words, and you felt like you were melting into the chair.

“Let me have it then,” Bob said, pulling back. His glasses were fogged as he looked up at you, and you moaned at the sight. His strong fingers stroked over you, and his tongue darted out to lick his lips, like he was desperate for your taste. “Come for me, sweet girl, come on my fingers and my tongue, open this sweet cunt for me, let me feel it…”

His fingers kept teasing over your slit as his lips closed over your clit. His tongue circled your sensitive bud as his fingers stroked over you and you pulled his hair tightly, remembered not to call out his name at the last minute, and came with a cry. You were trembling, melting and soaring and shaking, your legs over Bob’s broad shoulders as he fucking drank your orgasm from between your legs. He didn’t let up, continuing his gentle caresses until your orgasm sputtered out, leaving you thrumming and sated.

“So fucking pretty, sweet girl,” Bob was whispering, his touch gentling. “You did so good for me, didn’t you, so beautiful and sweet. God, you’re perfect.”

You opened your eyes to find him looking up at you, a soft smile on his face. You brushed his hair from off his forehead, glad his glasses had cleared enough for you to see his beautiful eyes. You were going to kiss him, a reversal of your earlier positions, when you recognized the rolling motion in his shoulders. You looked down and…shit, he was hard again. Your jaw dropped open as you looked up at Bob, in time to see a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Are you…” you asked, trailing off when your voice was raspier than you expected. “Can you go again?”

“We don’t have to,” Bob mumbled, almost sheepish. “I, uh…I wasn’t kidding, I really did miss you today, and you sounded so good, and it’ll go away, we can—”

You kissed whatever asinine alternative he was going to offer off his lips. Your man was hard again because he’d worked himself up while eating you out? Fuck that, you were gonna have him now.

You both moaned into the kiss, the taste of each other mingling and this time when Bob moved you, you let him guide you. He pulled you to stand, his hands holding you steady as he took his seat again, then pulled you to straddle him. You kissed him as you settled on his thighs, his hands still adjusting things around the desk, and letting you focus on him. God, he was something else. So beautiful and sweet and strong, and then hung to boot, and you felt the a spark reignite from your earlier orgasm. Your hands trailed over his tshirt, his broad neck and the soft curl of his hair at the back of his neck, and you leaned back when Bob leaned back to pull on a condom.

“You just had that handy?” you teased him, though it lost some of its sting since you were so breathless, “You kept a condom in your pocket all day?”

Bob huffed a laugh, even as his ears heated again.

“I don’t think you get it, honey,” he said, pausing as he rolled the condom down his length, “every moment I’m not in this warm cunt, I’m wishing I was, and planning for when I can be. If that means carrying a condom around all day, so as soon as it’s over, I can slide into this sweet pussy, then yeah, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

You smiled at him, knowing you looked infatuated and dopey, but basking in his shameless enthusiasm. It felt good to be with him, good to be adored by him, like the sweetest affirmation. Any teasing remark was quieted when Bob shifted, prompting you to rise over him. You both held your breath as he lined himself up with you, and you braced your hands on his shoulders as you started to sink down on him.

God, you’d never get used to the stretch of him.

Loosened by your orgasm and practice, your stomach still tensed at the pressure of his cock easing into you. Bob’s hands were stroking soothingly over the small of your back, and his forehead wrinkled as he frowned, stopping himself from rutting up into you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Bob groaned. “You’re still so tight, you feel so good.”

You only managed to whimper as you continued to sink onto him. He felt so thick, broad, and you loved how full you felt with him. Like a puzzle piece, like a safe haven, like the only place you wanted to be. Your thighs were burning when you finally took him all the way, and you could’ve cried from how full you felt. You wound your arms around his neck and Bob mirrored your motion, his arms bracketing around your lower back.

“Beautiful girl,” Bob soothed you, his words as much an embrace as his tight grasp. “Y’feel so good around me, shit. Tell me it’s this good for you, honey?”

“So full,” you managed, somehow breathless. “I feel you so deep, baby.”

“So deep,” Bob agreed, kissing you lightly. His lips brushed over yours in soft kisses until the tension faded, until you were squirming in anticipation, until you needed more than the deep press of him.

“Need you to move,” you whispered against his lips, and you felt Bob’s warm breath as he laughed.

“I don’t know, honey,” he teased, leaning back, languid. “I tried to get you out of this, but you’re the one who needed it…maybe you should ride me for it, if you want this cock so bad.”

Even as he goaded you, he lifted his hips into yours slowly. You whimpered at each slow push of his hips, punctuated by another taunt.

“You couldn’t wait to get your hands on me…” he whispered on another stroke, impossibly deep he was inside of you, “then your mouth…then you had me on my knees for you, sweet girl, and that still wasn’t enough for you, was it?”

The drag of his cock was so slow it was intoxicating. You were so full, and he was pushing deeper, and you could barely focus on his words. It was so slow and you needed more, and you weren’t one to back down from a challenge, so you rolled your hips.

It was Bob who groaned this time, at the swivel of your hips and the way you clenched around him.

“I remember it differently, baby,” you told him, even though your voice was shaking. You worked your hips faster, the rhythm you wanted, Bob’s thick cock filling you just right, at a tempo you knew would get you there in no time…if you could sustain it.

“Tell me,” Bob said, his hands falling to your hips, supporting your motion as you writhed over him.

Your hand wound into his hair, and you smiled when his lashes fluttered as you pulled lightly. Your hips were smacking down into his as you worked yourself on his cock, fast and desperate, chasing.

“I remember,” you panted, licking your lips and smiling as his eyes tracked the motion, “Remember you whining from my mouth…cumming down my throat after a minute or two…rutting against the air with your mouth between my thighs.”

“Jesus Christ,” Bob moaned, and you grinned at him, triumphant, as his hands tightened on your hips. He clenched you tightly, planted his feet and drove his own thighs up to meet you. The sound of your ass hitting his thighs was loud, but not as much as the wetness between you. It was audible, the proof of the desire you drove each other to, the desperation and need and the fact that neither of you was easily sated, except in the other.

“Give it to me,” you whispered and Bob groaned, his head nuzzling into your neck. He licked at the skin there, teeth grazing over you, both of you gasping for breath as your bodies writhed against each other. He was so deep inside of you, bruising and conquering and he was everything. You craved the stretch of him, but more than that, it was just him. His heavy cock, his strong hands, his soft whine that was building. You could feel your thighs weakening, but not Bob. He drove up into you with a hunger, like he needed this pace, this release, just as much as you did.

“You’re so fucking warm, sweet girl,” he gritted. “God, you feel so good. I’m losing my mind, honey, it’s so good. You’re clenching down on me, makes me not want to leave. Gonna stay in this cunt, spill here and stay here till I’m hard again, then do it again.”

You moaned, tightening around him. You wanted that, wanted him, only him. The circle of his arms, the press of his cock, the smell of his sweat and the brush of his lips.

“Do it,” you begged, and that was what it was: begging. You needed it, needed him, and didn’t care how desperate you sounded about it. “Let me feel it, baby, please, come in me.”

“Fuck,” Bob moaned, properly moaned. “Ya had to say please, didn’t you, so sweet like that, how the hell do I say no to you—can you come with me, honey? Don’t want to get there without you…”

You whimpered at his words and the way he was thrusting up into you. You were so close, so fucking close and you were certain you’d shatter before you got there but then Bob pulled you slightly forward. Only slightly, and without changing the rhythm of his hips, he pulled you forward so your clit was brushing against him. You cried out, your arms scratching at his back at the added stimulation, at the way he was rewriting.

“That’s right, honey, shit,” Bob whispered, each stroke of his hips a brush against your clit. Your legs were shaking, you were pretty sure you were crying, and the only thing you could comprehend was Bob’s voice and arms around you. “Scratch me up, hold me to you, I’m not going anywhere. I can feel you getting closer, honey, please tell me you’re close. God, you feel so good, I’m gonna cum so hard, I need it to be with you—please, honey, fuck—”

He clenched his arms around your body, holding you tightly to him, the way he did when he was about to cum and so caught up in it that he wasn’t worried about holding you too tightly. You moaned as he ground up into you, his cock thrusting into you and his strong arms banding you to him. You went limp as you came, moaning wordlessly, and you felt him relax as he recognized it, his back arching as he pumped into you roughly. He was practically rutting into you and you curled around him, craving it, the roughness and rightness of him. Bob shouted roughly as he emptied himself into the condom, a beautiful sound of abandon that made you nuzzle into him, even as your toes curled.

The room was quiet, except for the sounds of both of you catching your breath. Bob’s hand was running lightly over your back as you nestled into his chest, and your hand was playing with the edge of his shirt in front of you. You bit your lip, trying not to laugh at the current state of undress, but of course, Bob felt you shaking.

“What is it?” he asked gruffly.

“We’re just out here, pooh-bearing it,” you said, pulling on his shirt for emphasis. “We couldn’t even…I don’t know, it’s just silly. Half dressed but matching, without pants.”

Bob chuckled, his chest shaking as he pulled you tighter to him, before shifting to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course,” he said dryly. “I’m trying to think of a clever way to say ‘that was the hardest I’ve cum in I don’t know how long’, and you’re here thinking about children’s cartoons.”

“I also thought that was very very good,” you said, consolingly, patting his chest.

Bob caught your hand in one of his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles like a gallant night of old. He sighed, kissed them again, then twined his fingers with yours. “I like coming home to you.”

You blinked, then froze. “Oh my god, we’re still recording!!!”

Bob laughed, a sound so sweet and joyous that you couldn’t help but join him. He reached over and flipped off the microphone, even as you frantically tried to remember if you’d said his name.

“We don’t have to use it,” Bob reassured you, pulling you back into his arms as he resettled. “Or I can edit it, or really, whatever you’re comfortable with. Regardless, not for recording’s sake, but just for posterity: that was fucking hot. Unreal. I’m the luckiest guy alive.”

You smiled, not sure if you were embarrassed you’d forgotten, or proud of the both of you.

“You should’ve kept recording while you said that,” you mumbled, and Bob pulled back to look at you. He didn’t say anything for a moment, then a slow grin split his face.

“You’re jealous,” he said, pleased and proud, and you rolled your eyes before he resettled you on his chest. “I wasn’t sure if that’s what you were thinking, I thought it might’ve been.”

You pursed your lips. “We should publish it.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you could tell he was smiling.

“Let’s give it a listen first, honey,” he said, appeasingly. “Make sure you’re okay with it, then we can decide if you want it out there. For me, I think it’ll do numbers…but I only care about an audience of one.”

It was cliche.

So cliche it was cheesy, but you smiled to yourself at his sweet words. That was how you felt too…but it couldn’t hurt to remind the world that they might like the idea of Rhett, but you were the one with the real deal.

You were pretty sure that, regardless of what Bob said, you were the lucky one.

I Missed You Too It’s been a long day out on the ranch, and I can’t wait to get home to my girl. Turns out, she’s been waiting for me, too. [M4F] [Overheard] [Couple] [Oral] [Finish Inside] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [Love Confession] [SFX]

tattedlily: AN OVERHEARD FROM RHETT IS THIS REAL OH MY GOD SORRY TO MY COWORKERS I’M LISTENING AT MY DESK

bucklebunny69: Don’t mind me, just losing my mind over the fact that rhett has a gf and they sound so hot together

luvbug1985: SHUT UP THIS SOUNDS SO REAL

sarahwasnthere: okay but do y’all want a third orrrrrrr

sweeeeeetgirl: overheards aren’t normally my thing, but for rhett i’ll try anything and i think i’m converted?? I couldn’t hear her at first but the way HE changed like you could hear when she got involved i’m gonna be sick holy shit

babygrl902: when will someone fuck me like this

justjennn: okay but like the chemistry between the two of them?? Like they’re so reactive to each other i hope you guys do more!!

luvbug1985: nope i had to comment again bc the bi panic this audio caused?? Hearing her gasp/moan in response to his dirty talk is tewwwwwww much i immediately need more

tagging: @sometimesanalice @laracrofted @hangmanssunnies @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover @whatislovevavy @phoenix-rising-starbird-one @briseisgone @mycobrakai1972 @hangmanshoney @sorchathered @lewmagoo @katfanfic @bringbacktim @b-bradshaw

#bob fucks #robert bob floyd #robert bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd smut #misskielwrites

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munsonhoneybaby · 7 months

Text

Three's Company | Eddie Munson X F!Reader X Gareth

Summary: When Gareth accidentally interrupts your typical evening with Eddie, the night takes a turn that none of you were expecting.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ mdni, alcohol consumption and heavy marijuana use so automatic dubcon, smut, mostly pwp, p in v (unprotected), voyeurism, fingering, masturbation (m), oral (f receiving), daddy kink (used a total of 5 times), hair pulling, choking, little praise, little degradation, honestly just a touch ‘a everything yk how it goes

A/N: it’s not specifically stated but gareth is about 21-22 and eddie is 23, about to turn 24. this is honestly just one big filthy mess i can’t lie, so just brace yourself. and i did throw in a lil action with gareth right at the end for all my gareth girlies out there <3

started with this idea | part two

Smoke hung densely in the air, thick clouds drifting lazily through the small bedroom. The three of you were working your way through your third joint, the windows sealed and trapping the hot, heavy air inside. Empty beer bottles sat scattered on almost every surface, a bottle of Jack Daniel’s still two-thirds full on the nightstand beside three miscellaneous coffee mugs. Yours was white with a picture of a crab and said ‘Don’t bother me I’m crabby’.

You watched your boyfriend as he tapped the joint against the rim of the ashtray before leaning over you to pass it to his drummer. The openings of the cut-off sleeves of his Led Zepplin tee flashed you the dark ink crawling across his ribs. His rings clinked against Gareth’s in the handover, just loud enough to hear over the mixtape that you’d made for you and Eddie. It wasn’t exactly designed to suit the usual mood when the guys were over– Jeff would usually be there, too– but the two of you had started the evening alone together.

Eddie had been rolling up for the night at his desk when his friend called him. Apparently, Jeff had plans with a friend from work, leaving Gareth woefully bored and lonely; on a Saturday night, no less. It had you both feeling a little sorry for him, so you told Eddie to invite him over. After grumbling under his breath– something about ‘just wanting to fuck his girl in peace’– he begrudgingly did as you suggested and your party of two became three in less than thirty minutes.

You didn’t mind, though. Whoever said two’s company and three’s a crowd must have never spent two hours sitting, drinking, smoking, and talking with Gareth and Eddie.

“Sorry again for crashing your date,” Gareth apologized to you. “If Ed told me you were here, I wouldn’t’ve come.”

Eddie stood to pour a finger or two of whiskey into his Campbell’s Soup mug and you stretched your leg out, using your sock-covered foot to nudge your own mug closer to him. “Oh, so you don’t wanna hang out with me anymore?”

He scoffed, “C’mon, you know I think you’re cool as shit.” After topping off all three drinks, Eddie handed Gareth his. “I just don’t wanna third-wheel you guys too much. ‘S a little rude and pathetic, don’t’cha think?”

The boy took a swallow with a faint grimace, then rolled the desk chair he was sitting in about a foot closer to offer you the joint. “It’s not pathetic, Gare. You’re just hanging out with friends.” The music faded out and your head lolled towards your boyfriend with a lazy grin as “One of These Nights” by Eagles began. He just shook his head at you with a little smirk, biceps flexing as he raised his arms to tie his hair back in a low ponytail. Settling himself on the bed, he let his back rest against the wall as he sat between you and where Gareth sat in his desk chair.

You took a long drag, eyelids drooping as your head tilted against Eddie’s chest. His eyes roamed your body as it fitted to his. Your shorts were a little shorter than you’d normally wear in front of Gareth, but he couldn’t find it in himself to complain as he eyed your bare legs curling over his lap. Smoke billowed slowly from your mouth and the feel of his friend’s gaze on the two of you wasn’t enough to stop him from leaning down to breathe the rest of it in for himself, lips slotting familiarly between your parted ones. From your knee, his hand crawled slowly up the outside of your thigh to your hip. Your own fingers wandered to his exposed ribs, stroking lightly over the small date forever etched into his skin– the date you’d gotten together, almost three years ago now.

He didn’t tell you he was getting it; he knew you’d tell him not to, that it was a bad omen, but he didn’t believe that. Maybe you’d only been together for a year at the time, but you were a part of him. In fact, he’d wanted to have your name done, but after seeing your reaction to Rick getting his girlfriend’s name tattooed he’d worried you’d tear him a new one for it. Though you had to admit, it had grown on you. Maybe after ten years, you’ll let me add your name, huh babe, he’d said when he first showed you. Now the thought had your thighs squeezing together, the way you both knew you belonged to each other– the way everyone knew.

Gareth certainly knew, unable to tear his eyes from the scene before him though he knew he’d been staring for far too long. Watching Eddie’s teeth tug on your lower lip had him gnawing at the inside of his own. A glimpse of his tongue slipping into your mouth had the younger boy’s palms sweating. It wasn’t until his breath hitched at the sight of his friend’s hand sneaking between your thighs that you finally seemed to remember he was there.

Swatting Eddie’s hands away, you passed the dwindling joint to him and fixed an apologetic look in Gareth’s direction. “Sorry, I’ll make sure he behaves.”

“It’s okay, sorry I uh- interrupted–” He cleared his throat a little awkwardly and cracked his knuckles. “You want me to roll another one?”

“Go for it.”

While he turned around at the desk, Eddie’s mouth was meeting the sensitive flesh below your ear. His tongue grazed your skin and you let out a small gasp before pinching his thigh in warning. He hissed, but that smug little smirk of his remained.

Meanwhile, Gareth’s shaking hands were struggling not to rip the paper. He could hear all of it, even the occasional wet smack of his best friend’s mouth on your skin. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he shook his head a little and focused on finishing the task at hand. When he finally turned back around, his mouth went dry at the sight before him.

You sat comfortably between Eddie’s legs, back against his chest and head tilted to gaze up at him. He stared back at you with the same adoration, breathing in the last hit and ashing it in the tray on the nightstand. His free hand was halfway up your shirt and Gareth tried not to imagine the way his fingers must be teasing along your ribcage. He could see the blooming spot of red in the crook of your neck– which definitely wasn’t there before– slowly growing darker. So much for making sure he behaves.

He handed Eddie the joint and lighter which earned him a crooked grin and a “good man.” He watched him place it between your lips instead, lighting it for you as the shape of his other hand moved higher beneath your baggy t-shirt. Still, he could make out how the older boy kneaded at one of your breasts beneath the fabric until you swatted at him yet again. His throat grew tight and he could only hope and pray that neither of you noticed his pants doing the same.

The two of you had always been a little handsy, and he couldn’t deny that part of him always had some trouble keeping his eyes away, but something was different tonight. Maybe you were acting a little more intimate, maybe it was the heady music you’d been playing all night– hell, maybe he was just too fucking crossed– but it was different. He was one second away from having a nervous breakdown or busting in his jeans.

Suddenly, he was struck by the deep twang of “I Want You” by The Beatles beginning. Eddie’s head fell back against the wall with a thud, “Mmm, I fuckin’ love this song. Y’know that, Gareth? She loves this song too, don’t you, sweetheart? S’that why you put it on here?”

“Shut up.” You weakly elbowed him, but both boys still caught the way your thighs squeezed together.

He chuckled, his nose dragging along your cheek as he murmured, “Yeah. My sweet girl wanted me to fuck her to this song tonight, didn’t you, baby? This one always makes her shake.” Your stomach flipped nervously as your wide eyes were forced to meet Gareth’s, your bewildered expression mirrored on his face. He went on. “Maybe we should show him, hm? I mean, since he feels so guilty ‘interrupting’ us and all. What d’you think?”

Gareth was starting to think the dream-like quality of the night was because he actually was dreaming. This is Eddie Munson. The same Eddie Munson who almost knocked a middle-aged man’s teeth out for whistling at you three months into your relationship. And now, what? He wanted to–

“Y’gonna let me fuck you in front of ‘im, sweetheart?”

By your deer-in-the-headlights expression, Gareth would assume you were just as shocked by this turn of events as he was– which you partially were. You and Eddie had mentioned once or twice the idea of letting someone watch, Gareth’s name had even been thrown around when discussing the subject over a packed bowl, but you’d had no idea he had been considering it so seriously. Still, you couldn’t deny the way Eddie’s words made the heat between your legs throb. Glancing up to meet his eyes with uncertainty, you bashfully whispered, “I-I don’t know if Gareth wants that, Eds.”

Your boyfriend’s smirk only grew, fingers teasing at the waist of your shorts. “Don’t worry, babe, Gareth’s a dirty little pervert just like me. I mean, he’s been hard for twenty minutes.”

Finally, you glanced over at the boy in question whose face was now redder than you’d ever seen before, and his eyes immediately shot to the floor. He looked like a little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Knock it off, you’re embarrassing him. S’okay, Gare. You’re allowed to look.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his head and his heart could’ve stopped. Eddie was tilting your chin towards him for a kiss with one hand as the other worked its way into your shorts. The glimmer of his rings in the low light caught the younger boy’s attention, eyes following them down your throat until they disappeared beneath your shirt once again. Lips leaving your boyfriend’s, you turned to him and held out the joint that had apparently stopped burning. “Wanna come get this?”

He hoped you didn’t hear the shaky breath he let out as he willed his knees not to give out and stood from his seat at the desk. “Y’sure you don’t just want me to l-light it for you?” The faint tremble in his voice matched the one in his hand as he took it from you, embarrassment warming his cheeks.

You must have noticed as you replied, “S’okay. You clearly need it more than I do, honey.” His face only grew hotter as he clocked your eyes lingering on the obvious tent in his jeans.

Finally speaking up again, Eddie chimed, “Seriously, man. Relax a little.”

In disbelief, Gareth faintly laughed out, “Right.” Dropping back down into the desk chair, he watched you and Eddie exchange a long look, almost like some form of confirmation. A check-in. He’d always admired how the two of you communicated so effortlessly. Frankly, he admired many facets of your relationship. He and Jeff had talked more than once about how they hoped they’d be lucky enough to find a connection like yours and Eddie’s. Still, he couldn’t believe you trusted each other enough for this– that you both trusted him enough for this.

Brain still cloudy with shock, he briefly glanced around his friend’s bedroom. Almost like he had to make sure he was really there. This was really happening. While Eddie was already attempting to peel your shorts off, you refused to assist him. Gareth’s fingers clutched at the arms of the chair as you graced him with your soft gaze instead. “You sure you’re not uncomfortable, Gare? You’re okay with this?”

Simply nodding dumbly in response, he was shocked when Eddie corrected him; “Use your words, Gareth.” He said it casually, but there was a subtle firmness behind it— one he wasn’t sure he had ever heard Eddie use before, especially toward him.

What shocked him more was the way he found his body tensing in response. Afraid the words wouldn’t come out, he sheepishly cleared his throat. “Y-Yeah, I’m good. Swear.” God, could his face flush any redder?

Your boyfriend finally forced you to lift your hips from the bed, allowing him to shove your shorts down your legs. His hands eased along your inner thighs, spreading your legs and hooking one of them over his to keep them open. Gareth was just barely able to make out the faint wet spot beginning to form on your underwear. He had to resist the urge to lean in for a closer look like some teenager watching his first porno. Eddie’s ever-wandering fingers eased over that wet spot, rubbing in soft circles around your clit.

Puffing out a soft breath from your nose, you sank further into his chest. “Feels good, huh, baby? All worked up already ‘n I’ve hardly even touched you. That excited to show off your pretty little pussy?”

“Eddieee,” You grumbled, trying again to hide your face in his chest.

“Don’t be so embarrassed, Gareth is even more excited than you are.” Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your underwear, he asked, “How ‘bout we give him some more to work with, hm?” Taking them off, he tossed them to his friend. Said friend was a goner. He blamed his crossfaded state of autopilot for the way he instantly lifted the material to his nose and took a deep breath. Eddie chuckled, “Told ya he was a perv.”

Gareth subtly palmed at his length, practically gnawing at his lower lip as he fought not to make a sound– God forbid he interrupt as Eddie spread your legs wide, giving him an unobstructed view of your dripping pussy. Fuck, he might as well have been drooling on the floor. He could hear your wetness as your boyfriend slipped his fingers between your slick-covered lips, easing around your clit a few times. Stuck in his glassy-eyed stare, he didn’t mean to let out a broken whimper as Eddie sank two fingers inside you.

Just as he was afraid of, the older boy instantly narrowed his gaze in his direction. “Oh, we’ve got our boy on the edge of his seat right now, baby. It’s okay, Gare. I know you’ve never seen anything like my girl before, you can take your cock out. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

The way Eddie spoke to him made his whole body blaze with shame, but he still found himself doing as he was told. When he looked at you again you were watching him fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Finally freeing himself from the confines of his jeans, his cock twitched in his hand at the sight of the intrigue in your eyes, your tongue grazing across your lower lip. You clutched at Eddie’s bicep with a soft moan, walls clenching around his fingers.

“Oh, you like that, huh? Gettin’ all wet for my best friend’s dick?” His free hand grabbed your face, your cheeks squishing under his grip. “Didn’t know my sweet girl was that fuckin’ filthy.” You whined at the sudden emptiness as Eddie withdrew his hand from between your thighs, patting your leg with a soft murmur. “On your stomach, babe.” Obediently, you rolled over and he followed, kneeling behind you to grip your hips and lift them from the bed. “‘Atta girl.”

Your face warmed as you and Gareth looked at each other– you on your knees with your chest flush to the mattress and him with his pants just below his hips, his hand fisting his cock. Then Eddie’s fingers were knuckle-deep inside you again, curling into spots that only he had ever been able to find. Your hand shot back to grab at his thigh and you let out a surprised, gasping moan. “Daddy…”

While Gareth let out a quiet groan, Eddie just gave a low, condescending laugh. “Aw, sweetheart. I wasn’t even gonna tell ‘im. I didn’t wanna embarrass you too much, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Letting out little puffy breaths, your eyes welled with tears. Normally he would take this as an excuse to tease you further, but he didn’t want you getting too worked up with the added pressure of his friend’s presence. His hand rubbed soothingly over your back, “My little crybaby. It’s okay, Daddy’s here.” Your body relaxed, spine sinking deeper into its arch as his touch warmed your skin. “Would ya look at that?” Not that he had to ask; Gareth couldn’t stop looking. “She’s just such a sweet girl for me. Ain’t that right, baby? And so pretty. One of a kind, my girl.”

Taking in the scene before him, Gareth could only hope that wasn’t true. Because he wanted you– no, he wanted this. This thing, this passion and love that you two have for each other. Even as obscene a display as it was, he felt like he was witnessing something sacred, something holy. He was blessed further when Eddie brought you back to stand on your knees, your back to his chest as he lifted your shirt over your head.

Completely bare for both of them to gawk at, you were pointedly aware of your boyfriend’s fully clothed form behind you. He pinched teasingly at your nipple, making you arch further into him and grab at the hem of his shirt. Clawing for the skin just beneath it, you finally pleaded, “Take your clothes off.”

His eyes narrowed playfully; he just couldn’t help himself. “What do you say?”

“Please, Daddy,” You whined quietly with a pout.

With a quick wink and a crooked smirk, he crossed his arms to pull the ragged material over his head. You didn’t hesitate to seek out any inch of skin you could touch, a tremble licking down your spine as the soft warmth of his bare chest molded to it. Hands still pawing at your tits, his mouth worked its way down the length of your neck. “I love you,” He murmured against your shoulder, tone playful but still drenched in adoration.

“Love you more, Eddie.”

“Impossible,” He whispered in return before leaving one more kiss. “Now, back down.” Goosebumps erupted at the touch of his rings on your back, guiding you down until your chest met his bed once again. “Isn’t she such a good listener?”

Gareth was almost nervous to say anything– like any answer he gave could be the wrong one, and the wrong one might get the shit knocked out of him. So, why did his stomach tighten when Eddie looked at him expectantly for an answer? “So good.”

“Just wait til you hear how she sounds.” Eddie finally pushed his sweatpants down to his thighs, rubbing the head of his cock through your wetness and drawing a surprised gasp from you. “You ready for me, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed out impatiently.

Finally sinking inside, he didn’t stop until his hips were flush with your ass. Gareth’s hand stilled, fingers tightened around the base of his length to keep from coming too soon. Each slow thrust pushed your hips forward, emphasizing the perfect arch of your back. Your eyebrows were furrowed slightly, but he could still hear your moans from behind the pillow you were clutching. That didn’t last long as your boyfriend laced a hand into your hair, pulling your head back just enough to uncover your mouth. “Don’t hide those pretty sounds, babe. We wanna hear ‘em.”

Eddie. His best friend, his brother, his mentor, his frontman, his dungeon master. He had never thought of Eddie like this. He had never seen Eddie like this. His frizzy curls falling out of the messy ponytail at the nape of his neck, tattoos on display, muscles in his arm flexing as he gripped your hair. Sure, he’d always thought he was a pretty good-looking guy, but now Gareth was beginning to wonder how he hadn’t thought about this before.

And the two of you together? Christ, you were a work of art. He wanted to frame this moment– capture it, bottle it, sear it into his brain so he’d remember every detail exactly as it was. The way the flesh of your thighs trembled with every movement, how Eddie’s sweat mixed with yours to make your skin glisten in the dim glow of the lamps, all of it made his body burn with need. Then Eddie was speaking again.

“God, you always feel so fucking good. My girl, made just f’me, huh?”

“Yes, Daddy,” You breathed out with a whimper. “Fuck, you’re s’deep.”

“I know, baby. I know,” He cooed sympathetically. “You c’n take it, though. Always do, don’t you?”

Gareth could see how your wetness further matted the dark hair around the base of Eddie’s length with every thrust, how the slick was just beginning to reach your thighs. Each moan you let out was more broken and drawn out than the last. That was until Eddie’s hand settled around your throat, urging you to lean back into him once more, and your moans turned to shaky, gasping whines. The ringed fingers of his other hand squeezed at your breast before mapping a path directly to your clit, circling it with practiced precision. With the way your stomach trembled in response, the boy didn’t think you’d last much longer.

He almost thought he’d spoken his thoughts aloud when Eddie asked, “Aw, you gettin’ close already? C’n feel it, baby. Having an audience really working you up that much?” He grasped your face, forcing you to meet his eyes. “Knew you were my little freak, sweetheart, but c’mon. You’re just as dirty as me and Gare.” Gareth himself felt guilty with how your face crumpled in shame, but Eddie only smirked as he kissed your temple and inched his hand lower to squeeze at the sides of your throat. “It’s okay, baby. You’re bein’ such a good girl for Daddy. So, so good f’me. Just need you to come for me now.”

Red lines and crescent-shaped indents littered his arms as you uselessly pleaded for exactly what he was already giving you. Your head fell to the side only for you to lock eyes with Gareth, though he didn’t seem to be in much better shape than you were. The pale sliver of his chest that was visible had turned the same vibrant red his cheeks had been all night. His hand, fisted tightly around his cock, was moving in time with Eddie’s thrusts as arousal all but dripped over his knuckles. The sight ripped another shuddering moan from you.

Darkness encroached on the edges of your vision as Eddie finally felt your walls spasm around him. Your nails bit into his skin so hard it nearly broke, but it only encouraged him to hold you tighter as you tensed in his arms. “Fuck yes, there it is. Feel so fuckin’ good when you’re comin’ around me, sweetheart.”

“Eddie,” You cried, “Please. Come inside me, I need it.”

Though he tried to hold it back, a ragged groan tore itself from Gareth’s throat. Spurts of come stained his shirt as he fought to keep his eyes on the scene before him, but he couldn’t help but let his head fall back against the seat. He’d never felt so good. His veins were thrumming with weed and whiskey, so much so that the room still spun when he closed his eyes. But the pleasure still throbbing dully through his body like an ache wasn’t from the booze or the joints.

The blurriness cleared from his vision just in time to watch Eddie pull you in for a messy, desperate kiss. One hand cradled your jaw while the other clutched at your hip, pressing himself as deep inside of you as possible as he came.

Quiet sighs and pants filled the room as the three of you collectively caught your breath. Gareth just watched as you both melted into one another. Eddie’s palms soothed over every inch of your skin he could reach, and he whispered one last crazy idea in your ear– one that was somehow even crazier than the idea that had brought you all to this moment. Though the suggestion made your eyes widen and your stomach tie itself in a knot, the way you clenched around him in response compelled you to agree.

Carefully pulling out he planted one last kiss on your shoulder, allowing you to lay back against the pillows as he fixed his sweats and turned to his friend who still seemed to be recovering. “How ‘bout you come ‘n help me clean her up, Gare?”

The boy froze in his seat, length twitching where he’d tucked himself back into his unzipped jeans. “W-What?”

“Before I change my mind,” Eddie singsonged simply in return.

Limbs weak, he quickly stood from the desk chair, sending it knocking back into the desk. Hesitantly, his knee met the edge of the mattress and he looked between the two of you for reassurance.

“It’s okay, Gareth,” You murmured softly. “As long as you’re okay.”

“Did so good for us,” Eddie cooed in agreement. He stared as his drummer slowly knelt between his girlfriend’s spread thighs, fingers winding into the boy’s hair encouragingly. “Thought you deserved a little treat.”

Gareth’s heavy eyes fell shut when he finally had the taste of you– of both of you– on his tongue, lapping up your shared mess before sinking inside. His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips and thighs as he mouthed urgently at your wetness. “Tastes so good,” He panted into your skin.

“What does?” Your boyfriend asked, giving his unruly locks a little tug. “Her come, or mine?”

He only moaned in answer, tongue laving over your abused clit.

It felt wrong, looking down and seeing someone else’s head between your legs, but it only made that coil in your stomach grow even tighter. “Fuck, Eddie.”

“Ah, ah, don’t be rude, baby. It’s not me this time. Let ‘im hear you say his name.”

A humiliated whine escaped you, as though admitting it aloud was more shameful than inviting him to do it in the first place. “Gareth,” You finally moaned out pitifully, your hand winding into his hair alongside Eddie’s. “You’re gonna make me come again.”

“Oh, he’d be fucking honored, babe,” Eddie chuckled smugly. Leaning over you, he left a slow, deep kiss on your lips before dipping lower to your breasts. His tongue teased at your nipple before his lips wrapped around it completely, calloused fingers finding the other. He only pulled back briefly to murmur, “Go on, sweetheart. Come for us.”

The feeling of two mouths, two sets of wandering hands, was overwhelming. Your thighs closed around Gareth’s head as your hands wound into both his hair and Eddie’s. He could feel your walls clench and your clit throb against his tongue and his eyes nearly rolled back in his head. He would’ve happily stayed there forever, drunkenly licking up every drop of tangy arousal that you released, but as your muscles began to twitch, Eddie gave one final pull to his hair that let him know his fun was over.

For a moment, it was quiet save for the low, bassy thrum of the music still playing. Then Eddie was up, grabbing a clean t-shirt and a pair of sweats and pressing them against Gareth’s chest for him to take. “You did good, Gare. Real good, alright?” He rubbed a hand over the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “Go ahead to the bathroom ‘n get cleaned up, ‘kay? We’ll get you settled in for the night.” Cheeks warm from the praise, Gareth just nodded, heading for the hallway while you and Eddie finally got a second alone. Gazing down at you, he brushed your hair back from your face, trying to read every facet of your expression. “Are you okay? I didn’t push you too hard, did I? That wasn’t too much?”

“No, Eds, I’m okay. I liked it, it was good.” You nodded reassuringly. Still, he raised an eyebrow questioningly, holding out his pinkie which you locked yours with. “Promise,” You whispered. “Are you sure Gareth’s okay, though? Things won’t be weird with him from now on?”

“No, baby, I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry.” He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and grabbed you a bottle of water from the nightstand. “‘M gonna go make him a bed on the couch, alright? I’ll be right back.” You pouted out your lips for one last peck but let him go out to the living room while you gingerly got up to put clothes on.

Eddie was spreading a blanket over the couch when Gareth finally came out of the bathroom. On the table beside him sat a bag of chips, a bottle of water, and a couple of Tylenol. Sitting down, he patted the space to his left and asked, “You okay? I should’a talked to you both more before I dove into all that, I’m sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologize–” He took a much-needed drink of water and shook his head. “Trust me, I-I had…I had a great time. And I won’t make things weird, or like– tell anybody, I swear. I’m sure it’ll all be fuzzy in the morning anyway. Did you guys…?”

“We had fun, man, don’t sweat it.”

“Oh, we definitely had fun,” You agreed as you joined them. You settled on Gareth’s other side, nudging his shoulder with yours. “Thanks for being so cool about everything, I don’t think we could’ve trusted the other guys with something like this.”

“Well, thank you for trusting me,” He answered gratefully.

“My right-hand man,” Eddie reminded him as he stood, clapping a hand over his shoulder.

You playfully rolled your eyes at the sentiment, but kept a good-natured smile as you leaned over to peck the boy’s cheek. “Get some sleep, alright? Sweet dreams, Gare.”

As if anything could be sweeter than the taste of the two of you still lingering on his tongue when he closed his eyes and drifted off.

part two

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979 notes · View notes

bugs1nmybrain · 5 months

Note

Well now I think you should totally give us a version of Somnophilia where L gets woken up to female reader giving him a blowjob which leads to drowsy early morning sex.

Only if you want to though ^^

Sleeping Beauty pt. 2 - L Lawliet x Fem!Reader: Morning Sex

Author's Notes: This has been in my asks for MONTHS. I think it is time :0. I'm very sorry that I haven't been writing as many fics lately, I have been very very busy. I hate it ;(

MINORS DON'T INTERACT

Warnings: fem-reader, somnophilia/morning sex, smut (18+), oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, a cheesy joke at one point that ruins the mood, cowgirl position, reader doesn't cum but implied to after the story, not proofread

Notes about the reader: female reader, described as having small hands

Extra note: I realize I lied and originally said there were no pronouns used and totally forgot that he uses a gendered term at the end. I'm so sorry!!!!

The heat of the rising sun cracked on L's face, contrasting with the cool breeze of the room's AC. L was known for his insomniac drive, but even he was human. After many days of not sleeping, he'd start to see shadowy figures out of the corner of his eye and occasionally the sound of the bell would pay a visit. That's when he knew he had to sleep. He usually would doze off and like the snap of a finger wake up again, only it would somehow be over half a day later.

The heat of the sun on his face was comforting, considering every other part of his body, especially his feet, was so chilly that he felt like rotting in this bed. The bed that you insisted he sleeps in, otherwise he would've been out in his desk chair and it would likely fall over at some point.

The sleep-drunk and chilly state he was in was so heavy that he had hardly noticed that another part of his body was feeling warm. And wet. He recognized the feeling well, and the mouth that was attached. He peeked down to see just as he suspected.

L never grew tired of seeing you. Through all the hyperboles he told you about how stunning you were, somewhere in there was a genuineness that he struggled to accept. Not because he didn't care for you, but because he did so much. So much that he was afraid something abrupt would eventually happen and he'd lose you, and lose this connection that he secretly craved.

Though, those deep-seated worries could surely wait. He looked down through lidded eyes, watching as you had your small hand wrapped around the base of his cock and trying your best to accommodate his cock in your mouth. Your eyes were also lidded with your eyelashes looking beautiful as you traveled your soft lips against his length. He could tell that you hadn't even noticed that he was awake.

As you trailed your tongue up his cock with your eyes still closed, he sighed and let his head fall back onto the pillow. You continued your movements up and down his cock, pulling back his foreskin to get to the sensitive skin under.

"A-ah!" L shuddered quietly. His sudden noise startled you and your mouth moved off of him with a quick "pop". He grunted at the absence of your mouth and looked down at you. The sight of your flushed, wet lips and alertness struck a chord in him, making his cock throb under your hand.

"Is this your way of getting me back?" he chuckled, reaching his hand down to pet your hair.

You grinned shyly with your answer, "An eye for an eye."

Without giving him many options to respond, you continued bobbing your head on his cock. You used your tongue to slide along his base as you guided yourself. L's leg jolted slightly at the sensitivity, and he continued to sigh in pleasure while gently holding onto your scalp.

"Fuck, y/n.." he whispered under his breath.

"Mhm~"

You were certainly eager, though you felt your throat struggle as you attempted to take all of his cock down. You tried to be pornographic, but your gag reflex soon kept you humble and you choked unexpectedly.

You moved away from his cock and coughed, holding the back of your hand to your mouth to conceal yourself. L felt himself grow even more aroused at your attempts to please him beyond your comfort, and the tears that wallowed from it. Though, he was not going to tell you that.

"Hey, how about you come up here, hm?" L rubbed your head, looking at you now with his 69% awake face. You nodded and crawled up to rest beside him.

"I wanted to finish that," you say, disappointed in yourself.

"That's alright. Practice makes progress. I don't want you to hurt yourself," L reassured you, placing his hand at your waist to pull you closer. He kissed your cheek, which was hot to the touch. "Let's try something different."

He pulled at your t-shirt, exposing your bare breasts to him and shortly after, your panties as well.

"Can I ride you?" you ask.

"Hm?" L questions, still tired. "Oh. Yes, of course. Do as you wish, darling."

You beamed him a smile and steadily rested yourself on top of him. You worried if you were heavy, considering he was noticeably frail and light. L seemed to be able to tell what you were thinking as you looked puzzled on top of him.

"You're alright. Keep going."

Taking his cock in your hand, you adjusted yourself upwards and slowly began sinking down on him.

"Mmm.." L tilted his head back, absolutely enthralled by the view.

You moaned as well, moving yourself to grind on top of his cock, feeling up your sensitive cunt. L's hands rubbed up from your thighs to your hips, relishing in your wet pussy and the way your body moved on top of him. Your body was enough on its own to make him pre, but the lust on your face, lust that he knew was for him, made him feel better.

The sounds filling the room were overwhelming. You could both feel yearning waves of pleasure riding through your bodies, engrossed by each other's sex. Your body's rhythm bouncing on top of him made you feel incredible, with L's face flushed pink and a bit of sweat covering his forehead.

"Mmfh..y/n, I'm close," he groaned, gripping onto your waist. He pulled you down onto him each time you lifted up, trying to feel your sleeve as much as he could.

"You can. Please cum for me.."

More moans and whines exited your throat as the sensation of his cock, hands, and sounds drove your libido rampant. And L could say the same for you.

"Mmmm~!" you squealed out in pleasure. L lost composure and you could feel his hips thrust up into you as he shook.

"Awh.." His hands gripped your sides as he came deep and heavy in you, his body falling limp otherwise as he remained inside of you as you both tried to recover.

"You're incredible," he hummed with a gentle smile. You giggled and lifted up, falling down beside him. You snuggled your arms around him and gripped onto his shirt (he kept it on, he does a lot during sex).

"No you," you retaliate.

"Mhm, if you say so," he looked over at you holding him close and placed a kiss to your temple. "You didn't cum."

"Oh."

"Let me fix that," he rubbed your shoulder as he said so.

"You don't have to," you say and his fingers already begin trailing in between your legs.

"Please, indulge me. Besides, as you said, "an eye for an eye." What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't?"

"A normal boyfriend," you joked.

"Well, I've never been known to be normal. Neither have you. Be a good girl and let me play with you, alright?

Here's a song that's appropriate for this fic lol

#l lawliet #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #l lawliet x reader smut #l lawliet x fem reader

447 notes · View notes

loafgeto · 11 months

Text

I'M BETTER, AREN'T I? | geto suguru

geto suguru x fem!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend isn’t satisfied with the sex life you both have and suggests an open relationship. in the mean time, he sends you to a sex coach to get better.

contents: no curses au, fem!reader, she/her pronouns, 18+ mdni, nsfw, explicit language, open relationship, semi-plotted. smut contents: semi-public sex (suguru’s office), foreplay, dirty talking, praising, breast play, cunninglus, fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, mentions of multiple creampies, orgasms, blowjob, throat fucking, size kink, corruption kink, somewhat breeding kink(???), ass grabbing, pet names (princess, baby, darling kind of). not proofread!!

word count: 4.3k

note: i was so hard when writing this. anyway enjoy this short fic while i go cry at my assignments and pull my hair out

“this doesn’t usually happen,” he utters quietly, lips against the bare skin of your shoulder. you’re situated on his lap, your back facing him as his middle finger rubs against your clit. you moan softly at the sensation, feeling his other hand spread your legs wider.

“w-what doesn’t?” you question, biting your bottom lip as you slowly turn your head to look down at him.

“this,” he replies with a coo, pushing two fingers into your dripping hole causing you to gasp. he begins to pump his fingers in and out slowly, observing your erotic face as you begin to moan with each sensation. “i shouldn’t be doing this with a client, y’know? i could get fired.”

right. this doesn’t happen at all.

this all started a few days ago— when you and your boyfriend were having an intimate night. he was your first boyfriend, and the person you lost your virginity to. in hindsight, you had no prior experience to sex and your boyfriend became extremely upset over that.

he claimed he was unsatisfied with the sex life he had, and that statement worried you. was he going to break up with you because you couldn’t satisfy him enough during sex? you were paranoid over any possibility, and practically begged him that you’ll be better— do better.

so he suggested an open relationship. you were totally against it, confused on why such thing was needed. he claimed that it was a way to experience and explore his needs and wants that you couldn’t give him properly. it shattered your heart, but he got you to agree to the open relationship by saying he only loves you and that he wanted the best for the two of you.

and for the mean time, he recommended you to see a sex coach. you had no idea what a sex coach could possibly do, but your boyfriend said that it was the best option on making you a better person at sex. so you agreed, and he arranged an appointment for you to someone he knew from his college days.

hence, led you to encounter geto suguru.

him and your boyfriend met during a psychology class, and became seat mates for the semester. suguru was studying psychology, wanting to become a neuropsychologist and had sex coaching as a side job. it was all you knew from the information your boyfriend gave you, but other than that, this man was a complete stranger that you had to talk to about your unfortunate sex life.

when you first saw suguru, you didn’t expect someone like him to be a sex coach. he was muscular, tall and winsome. he’d fit the role of a corporation’s leader, managing hundreds of people and leading them to success. but he was in a chair, coaching individuals and couples about sex.

it took a while for you to approach him with how unsatisfied your boyfriend was with the sex life in the relationship. and how you both agreed to open relationship. you didn’t know what you ever did wrong, and you were always open to try new things— well, because you absolutely knew nothing when it comes to what good sex is. suguru listened to it all, nodding his head as if he was making a mental note about it.

but what about your needs? suguru would ask. what do you want or like?

to answer his question— you had absolutely no idea. you were always in the mindset of satisfying your boyfriend that you don’t even know what you want or like when it comes to sex. suguru was rather surprised, but he didn’t inquire further before changing the entire purpose on why you were there.

how about we figure out what you like?

there was no reason to deny, therefore you agreed. he started asking how you liked being touched, or what do you like hearing your partner say. however, you didn’t have much of an answer to that either. when your boyfriend wanted to have sex, he would usually take the lead and tell you what position to be in or what not— and that was because he enjoyed those things.

can you demonstrate for me? you asked him. the question sounded so novice, so unthreatening— that pure look in your face caused suguru’s heart to ache and he had absolutely no idea how to demonstrate without using you. you were practically vulnerable.

i can’t do that— he replies in a gentle manner. your eyes were pleading for him, reaching him for some sort of help that he couldn’t deny. knowing how desperate you were, he was willing to help you.

suguru would then find himself sitting next to you. with your permission, he’d snake an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. he was much bigger, stronger than your boyfriend that it made you feel weak. you could even smell the scent of his cologne as your body inched closer to his. you could barely look at suguru in the eyes, but he turned your face towards him with his other hand. he was gentle with you and his words, asking where he should start and if you were comfortable.

when it came to foreplay, your boyfriend never issued it before having sex— he’d just kiss you and push you down on the mattress. so you had no clue where suguru should start. suguru pondered for a moment, suggesting that he would take the lead and if you liked something, you would tell him. same thing went for something you didn’t like. you nod in agreement and he started rubbing his hand between your inner thigh.

you’ve felt your boyfriend’s hands on your thighs multiple times, but it was nothing compared to how sensually suguru was doing. his hot breath brushed against your ear and his other hand began caressing the side of your hips, causing your body to tremble. suguru asked if you liked it, to which you could only nod. you were gradually getting turned on, and suguru’s purring voice in your ear triggered it even more.

your pussy was quivering and soaking your panties. it was wrong to be turned on like this from a stranger, how would your boyfriend feel? you were too paranoid about that possibility, and when suguru noticed your reluctance, he stopped and made you face him.

remember, you’re in an open relationship. he reminds you. he didn’t mean to imply it harmfully— rather, he wanted you to relax, and not worry about what your boyfriend might feel. however, suguru already knew that your boyfriend could care less, he was probably fucking someone else at the moment. i’ll take care of you, trust me.

you had to tell yourself that you were the one who asked suguru to help you, so there was no turning back now. i want you to kiss me, you request and suguru couldn’t reject it. he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours and you immediately return the kiss. it started off passionately and he pushed you down on the couch.

after the short makeout session, suguru placed you on his lap. one of his hands had unzipped your pants and was pushed underneath your panties. you moaned at the feeling of his fingers gliding down your wet pussy. you were so wet and it sent blood rushing to suguru’s dick.

you’re so wet. hear that? suguru whispered and pushed your pants down along with your underwear. you were completely surprised, trying to cover yourself though his grip on your thighs kept you from doing so. are you ever this wet for your boyfriend?

you shake your head. no. suguru was the first person to ever make you this wet, and with that fact, it made suguru feel empowering over your boyfriend. after several teases with your clit, suguru had you take off your shirt— leaving you in a bra. your skin was so soft and delicate. suguru badly wanted to mark you all over, show your boyfriend what he was missing. however, he reminded himself that he was working.

thus, lead to the mention that something like this never happens. it was true, sex coaching doesn’t involve sex at all. suguru was always helpful to his clients, and he’s never laid a hand on any of them until you. a few nights ago, he received a call from your boyfriend— they don’t regularly speak to each other, but had each other’s contact ever since graduation.

suguru was informed about you, and listened to the complaints your boyfriend had about you. it was irritating to say the least, how someone could degrade their partner like that? but it seemed your boyfriend didn’t care what suguru had to say, at least, not yet.

“it’s okay, ‘guru. i-i’m not going to tell anyone-“ you reply, moaning when his fingers curl and pump deeper into your pussy. suguru’s fingers were much longer and thicker than your boyfriend’s, it brought you a different ecstatic feeling.

“yeah? well, you gotta keep your voice down if you don’t want anyone to hear, princess,” suguru whispers, pressing a kiss on your shoulder before slipping his fingers out of you. catching your breath, you watch as he raises his fingers soaked in your arousal. “see how wet you are? just because of me, huh?”

“mhm..” you reply, nodding your head before he pushes those same fingers back into you. your head falls back slightly while suguru latches his mouth on your shoulder to suck the skin.

suguru pushes your bra up with his other hand, immediately groping your breast and gently pinching your nipple with his thumb and index finger. you’re unable to contain your moans as they reach a higher pitch. his fingers spreads your walls perfectly, reaching your deepest spots that your boyfriend could never reach with his fingers.

“mm- suguru!” you had to cover your mouth with a hand, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. you were reaching your first orgasm, and suguru noticed from the way your walls clenched around his fingers.

suguru grunts, fastening his fingering pace— still sucking and licking the skin area of your shoulder. you could feel his erection poking your ass, and you could tell he was big. so fucking big. it even caused you to fantasize about him shoving his cock deep into you, making you cum instantly. well, you had no idea how cumming felt like for you, since your boyfriend would usually be the one to finish before you. but suguru— he was making sure you’ll cum.

his grip on your boob was another feeling you’ve came to enjoy. the way suguru fondled with the fat of your breast and pinched your nipples was completely different from when you had to do it yourself. suguru gave both of your breast attention with his big hand, and it was enough for you to cum.

you came all over him without warning, moans muffled underneath your hand as suguru pushes his fingers out. your body dropped and fell back against his before he held you closely, hearing the sound of your heart beating against his chest. he hums, pressing soft kisses on your neck before moving his lips back near your ear.

“call me whenever.”

your sessions with suguru continued to occur for a span of two months.

while your boyfriend was out doing his own things, you would set regular sex coaching appointments with suguru. and if not, you’d be at his house doing a session. your boyfriend never inquired much about your whereabouts or what you were doing, besides that he knew you were with suguru. therefore, your time with suguru allowed you two to form a closer bond, and share personal things and secrets.

you were even comfortable enough to share about your sexual fantasies you had of him. and how you desired to feel him inside of you, touching and kissing you all over. you wanted to know how good sex felt, and suguru was willing to give you that.

and after the first time, you both couldn’t stop seeing each other. you were able to experience things and new feelings, and you began to develop feelings for the man.

aside from his personality when it came to sex, he was kind and generous, polite to everyone, and incredibly smart. when you visited him at his workplace, all of his co-workers would be around him and talking to him. and he would dismiss himself from them whenever he saw you.

suguru was quite romantic, more than your boyfriend ever was— gifting you bouquets of flowers and expensive jewelry, taking you out on simple dates to restaurants and other fancy places, and complimenting you. it was the bare minimum, literally. but you barely receive these gestures from your boyfriend, so it flattered you a lot.

it was another day where you went to visit suguru at his workplace. you didn’t set an appointment but since you visited him regularly you could just walk into his office— only during his lunch break though. you wore a flowy dress that reached your mid-thighs, hair done in a specific way with light makeup layering over your face. lately, you’ve been wanting to be pretty just for him and your boyfriend even noticed your change in appearance, but he never approached you on the reason why.

when you arrived at suguru’s office, you see him standing outside— talking to one of his clients. you stood afar for a moment, waiting for suguru to finish his work. and from the corner of suguru’s eyes, he immediately detected you and couldn’t help but smile.

after his client left, you approached him with a smile, greeting him with a kiss on the cheek before entering the office. “you should’ve called me,” suguru says, following after you.

“i wanted to surprise you.”

“oh? well it worked,” suguru replies with a grin, observing your face for a moment. “something the matter?”

“hmm,” you nod your head, hearing the door shut behind and you turn around. “my boyfriend wants to meet me for lunch in about 30 minutes. i didn’t want to go but he said it was urgent. your workplace was along the way so i wanted to stop by.”

“well he can wait a little longer,” suguru huffs but smiles before pulling you close by holding your waist. you look up at him as your face burned, observing how his broad body towered over yours. “by the way, you look beautiful,” he whispers the compliment before kissing you.

you wrap your arms around his neck, tippy toeing closer to him before he grips your hips, pressing yours against his. you could feel his throbbing cock poking through his pants, already soaking in pre-cum and practically begging to become free. you smile against his lips and suguru grunts, feeling your hand rub against his erection.

“fuck. we can’t do it right now, baby. i’m also busy after my lunch break, i have a meeting,” suguru groans in annoyance, glancing at the clock hanging over his desk.

“mm.. it’s alright, suguru,” you reassure, kissing his cheek before you pull away. he watches you kneel in front of him, your face coming face to face contact with his erection. “i’ll do this quickly, ‘kay? don’t want either of us to be late.”

suguru nods, hand lowering to caress your face as your hands unzipped his pants to free his hard throbbing cock. he moans, feeling your small hands wrap around him. another thing was how much you’ve changed over these two months. initially, you barely had an idea of what to do and was always reluctant. but now, you’re able to confidently perform gestures yourself and suguru fucking loved it.

he fucking loved knowing the feeling that he made you like this— knowing he corrupted you— changed you into someone who was confident with herself and was able to do something without hesitating. knowing how you quickly became addicted to him and his cock. oh how he wanted to brag about it to your stupid boyfriend’s face.

your hands pump the length of his cock as your mouth latches onto the tip leaking with his pre-cum. suguru grunts, his cock twitching in your hands as your mouth began taking him. you were never too good at giving a blowjob, but after suguru— you believed you improved quite well. seeing his reactions were able to tell you how good you were doing, and it made you want to see more of it.

you were much smaller than suguru, and he loved it. seeing your small mouth take his fat cock was something he’d never once figured liking. his moans start becoming louder as you pushed his cock deeper down your mouth, sucking and gliding your tongue all around him. you look up into his eyes and suguru nearly broke, dick pulsating from how you performed.

the wet sounds and the sync of your moans begin resonating the room, and as much as suguru needed to quiet down— he just couldn’t. he loved the feeling of your mouth around him, pleasuring him towards his orgasm. the tip of his cock starts poking your throat as you bobbed your head faster, gagging a few times before pulling away.

you swirl your tongue around his swollen tip, wrapping one of your hands around him again before pumping it. he groans, throwing his head back. he was about to cum, and he slightly pushed his cock back into your mouth.

“mm-“ you were somewhat surprised, but realizing he was about to cum soon, you’d make sure to fuck his cock with your mouth with the best you can.

“fuck- princess. your mouth takes my cock so good, doesn’t it?” suguru grunts when you push his cock far into your mouth once again. you moan, your eye sockets shortly welling with tears as he rocks his hips slowly. “gonna fuck your mouth, yeah?”

you nod and suguru’s hands hold the sides of your head before he starts thrusting faster. the tears in your eyes finally stream down the side of your cheek and your hands wrap around his wrists as his cock continuously smacked your throat.

the feeling of suguru’s cock down your throat was completely different from how your boyfriend would force his cock down yours. but you’ve completely forgotten the feeling of him, as suguru seems to already own your entire body.

suguru never forced himself down your throat, and the first time he fucked your mouth, he’d inform you to tap his leg or somewhere three times for him to stop. at first, it was agonizing— you were always gagging and uncomfortable with the feeling but suguru was patient and was able to help you adjust to the feeling. and when you got better, you began performing orally with suguru’s cock.

“gonna cum right now, baby- fuck,” suguru groans, head falling back as he was about to pull his cock out. but you refrained him from doing so and he cums deep into your mouth.

you moan softly as his warm cum hits your throat, and you swallow his load before pushing your head away. you gasp for air as your body slumped back. your mind was becoming foggy and you didn’t even notice suguru picking you off the ground.

“sugu, what are y-“ you question as he pushes you stomach down against his cold desk and lifts your dress. he pushes your soaked panties to the side, watching as your arousal dripped out of your pussy. he grins before gliding his tongue against your wet folds, immediately making you moan. “a-ah. suguru-“

his tongue circles around your clit several times and he pushes two fingers into your aching hole. your moans muffle behind your closed lips, and your eyes shut to the feeling of his tongue fucking your pussy from behind. he pushed his wet muscle into you, sucking and licking all of your arousal. you grip the edge of his desk as he starts pumping his fingers slowly.

“suguru, baby- need your cock s’bad right now,” you beg, turning your head around as one of his hands grabs the fat of your ass.

“hold on, princess,” suguru replies, slipping his fingers out and flicking his tongue around your pussy. you whine, unable to remain patient and suguru only chuckles at your reaction. he stands behind you, lifting your dress further up.

“s-suguru..”

“i know, baby. i know,” suguru hums, using a finger to pull your panties that still wrapped around your hips down to your thighs. he then returns both hands to the side of your ass, aligning his cock to your wet entrance.

suguru shoves his cock into your swollen pussy, instantly making you cum. he starts thrusting his cock deep and fast into your pussy before using one of his hands to press both of your hands behind your back. your legs become wobbly and your moans are uncontrollable as he fucks the brains out of you. he wouldn’t slow down at all, and desperately wanted to fuck his cock right into you until you came over and over again.

his hips slam against your ass harshly, balls slapping against your pussy as his body lowers over yours. his desk starts moving and creaking each thrust he gives you, some of the things on top beginning to roll off and hit the ground.

“fucking love this pussy,” suguru comments, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“mm— i love your cock, sugu!” you scream as your body rams into his desk because of how rough he was thrusting into you.

suguru groans, removing his hand from your ass to hoist one of your legs up. his cock was able to penetrate deeper into your pussy and smack the entrance of your womb, making you become a moaning and crying mess.

“fuckk, i’m cumming- suguru!” you cry out as your vision becomes blurry with more welled tears in your eyes. he was fucking you too good, and your pussy had clenched around him, indicating for him not to pull out.

even after cumming all over him, suguru kept drowning his cock deep into your pussy, rubbing against your most sensitive spots. he fucked his cum into your baby room, but that didn’t mean he’d stop at all. he continuously pounded you, filling your entire pussy up— and you both ended up losing track of time.

suguru pulls your dress off, along with your panties and flips you over to face him. you prop your body up as he pushes your thighs further apart to continue fucking into you. his previous cum milked into your womb begins leaking out, and you whine at the feeling as your arms went around his neck.

"y-your cum is-" you begin, gasping when suguru pulls your hips closer to him.

"don't worry, princess. i'll give you more," suguru grunts with a wide grin. "'m gonna give you so, so much of my babies."

"yes, yes!" you nod as your eyes began rolling back. being in the moment, you didn't notice your phone already ringing several times. and even when you heard, you and suguru chose to ignore it. all you could think about was suguru- and his cock filling and shaping your pussy to his size like it was all his.

suguru began rubbing circles around your clit with the tip of his fingers as you both began reaching your next orgasms. your mind became foggy, and all you could hear was your moans and the wet sounds of his cock slapping against your pussy. you pull suguru close to you, pressing your chest against his as he dumps his final load into you.

"f-fuck.." suguru's voice breaks as he buries his face into your shoulder.

"suguru?" you call to him through your heavy pants, feeling his warm cum refill your womb. you give him a gentle kiss on the side of his head and he pulls away.

suguru slides his dick out, letting out a heavy sigh before turning to kiss you again. when he turns away, he glances at the clock and reads the time. "shit, i'm late for my meeting. and you're late for your lunch meetup."

you giggle, shaking your head as suguru pushes his pants back around his hips. "they can continue waiting."

suguru lifts you off the table, noticing how much of a mess it was and chuckles. "mm.. you're right, my meeting isn't that important anyway.. and i don't have another appointment until 2.. so that gives us an hour and-"

but suguru was interrupted when there was a knock on his office door. you both tore your attention away from each other and turned to the closed door, thankfully it was locked. "yes?" suguru clears his throat.

“geto? are you still in there?” it was one of his co-workers and you both glance at each other. “the meeting was moved to next monday, sir. just wanted to come inform you about it.”

“oh? that sounds great, thank you," suguru replies and you both wait until the co-worker dismisses themselves, leaving you and suguru alone again. "guess.. we can go for a couple more rounds, yeah?"

you giggle, inching your face close to his, “hmm but there's something i have to do first."

"hm? what's that?" he inquires as he raises a brow before you kissed him again.

you pull out your phone, reading the long notification bars informing the missed calls you received from your boyfriend. suguru could see them too and he curiously wonders what you would possibly do. were you going to call him back?

but instead, suguru watches as you block your boyfriend's number, or well now, ex-boyfriend's. and you toss your phone to the side, grabbing his biceps and pushed his hips against yours. "now, let's continue."

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

#loaf4u #18+ minors dni #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen one shot #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #geto x reader smut #geto smut #geto suguru x reader smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #getou suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n

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blackleatherjacketz · 1 year

Note

If you are taking reqs for fics, you should totally do one where reader is sore from training or something else(😏) and Miguel offers to massage readers legs, in which turns into him eating reader out!

Miguel O'Hara x Female Reader

Summary: Miguel insists on helping you stretch out your hamstrings.

Warnings: 18+ Only!, Explicit Smut, Mature Content, Mutual Pining, Sassy Miguel, Persuasion, Power Dynamics, Dom Miguel, Touch-Starved Reader, Avoidant Reader, Thigh Stretching, Thigh Riding, Thigh Kissing, Vaginal Fingering, Cunnilingus, Miguel Using His Nose *Creatively*

Word Count: 1.7k

Notes: I hope you like this, Nonny! It got a way from me a bit:)

Read my other MIGUEL stories!

“You’re doing it wrong.” His voice is slick like oil as it spreads through the air and into your ears, coating you in its deliciously dark warmth as he approaches you from behind.

“Oh really?” You keep your palms pressed against the wall as that warmth intensifies, stretching the muscles in your calf as you feel the heat from his breath reach the back of your neck. “How so?”

“You’ve been groaning every time you stand up from your chair.” The weight of the mat beneath your feet shifts and bends with each step he takes toward you until he stops just a few inches short, inhaling a little longer than normal before speaking again. “That stretch isn’t going to help your hamstrings any.”

“No?” You keep your back to him, switching legs before continuing your usual stretches to ease your well-earned muscle pain. “Maybe my calves hurt, did you ever think about that?”

“I can help with those, too.” That dark, inky tambre oozes itself around your body, dripping down your torso and into your core as his words blow a few strands of hair away from your shoulder.

It’s only a matter of seconds now before he touches you, before that black abyss takes you under completely; rendering you helpless against his charm that you’ve been trying to ignore these past few weeks. Those innocent looks he stole from you across the room had quickly morphed into longing gazes that kept you up at night, spurning a fire inside that could only be stoked by one thing. You wonder if being submerged in this desire with him is something that could put this flame out for good; or if succumbing to your primal urges would only ignite this chemical reaction into a combustion impossible to recover from.

“By mansplaining my own stretches to me?” You bring yourself out of your own head and lean further into the wall, extending your muscle in a slow, aching release as he stands still behind you.

“I’m not…” he trails off, backing away only slightly. “I’m not mansplaining.”

“Really?” You finally turn to face him and notice that instead of his usual red and blue suit, he’s wearing shorts and a tank top to match your own. A fresh stain of sweat dampens the worn down collar that stretches across his muscular chest, testing your resolve even further as you try to keep your cool with a casual wink. “What would you call it then, huh?”

You turn to walk away from him, stopping only as he instinctively grabs hold of your arm in a quick attempt to keep you near. He steals another glance, stalling your departure with a gentle tug back in his direction, only this one lasts a little longer than those before it. This one allows you to see the varying colors of red, brown and black in his eyes as they carefully study your face, matching the color of that dark, salacious fluid that reaches the very tips of your toes and glues your feet to the ground.

Uh oh.

Now you’re sinking.

“You’re touching me,” you point out, glancing down at his hand before looking back up at his gorgeous face.

“Do you want me to stop?” The boldness of his question forces you to inhale as his fingers encircle your wrist, his calloused fingertips sending a rush of warmth up your arm as they gently pull you in even closer.

Well, do you?

“No,” you whisper, barely able to recognize your own voice as the word allows him to trace his way up your forearm. “No, I don’t,” you clarify.

“Then what do you want?” He asks again, his voice dropping an octave as it vibrates in his chest.

You shiver in silence as his thumb nestles into the crook of your arm, grazing back and forth over its delicate skin like a pendulum, raising the tiny hairs on your skin as he awaits your answer. His lips are closer than they’d ever been before, full and parted as you allow him to alter your center of gravity with another gentle pull. You’re close enough now to smell his sweat as it mixes in with the sandalwood of his cologne, that intoxicating concoction making it that much harder for you to resist sinking down any further.

“I want you to touch me.” You finally give in, figuring you have nothing left to lose with his breath now hot on your cheek. “I want you to keep touching me.”

“Good,” he smirks as if that’s all he’s been waiting for, nodding his head toward the space behind you. “Now get on the mat, flat on your back.”

Like one of his new recruits you follow his orders blindly, surrendering to this inevitable seduction as you cautiously lay down at his feet.

“Now, I know you’re allergic to accepting help from anyone else, but you’re holding back when you stretch, you know that?” He wastes no time in taking your foot into his hand before pushing your leg up toward you, straightening it out just enough to make you wince. “That’s why you’re still groaning every time you stand up.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” you laugh, trying to ignore his pelvis as it presses against you, stretching your inner thigh out even more than you were capable of doing by yourself. You groan again as he pushes your body to its limit, his palm snug against your calf as he extends it up to the level of your head, pinning your opposite thigh in place with his hip. You hiss as a sharp pain quickly follows, shooting its way up the synapses of your largest muscle as he continues to splay you apart.

“Miguel,” you stifle a whimper as he grins, a glint of his fangs showing as that pain burns its way through the rest of that muscle group.

“Oh, it’s gonna hurt before it feels better, mami,” he goads, stretching you out even further as his pelvis grinds against yours, the evidence of his arousal more than damning.

“I know, I just…” You pause as the expression on his chiseled features changes from playful to knowing, his endlessly dark eyes glancing down at your junction before looking back up at your face.

“You’re soaking wet.” He keeps his hand on your leg while snaking the other between you two, testing the polyester layer of your shorts for the moisture that you both know is there.

Words fail as your jaw falls open in disbelief, that smug look on his face interrupted only by a strand of hair falling in front of his eyes as he touches you.

“I know you’ve been trying to hide it for as long as you can, mami.” He rubs your swollen lips up and down over the cloth, forcing that all encompassing heat to burn like molten hot lava deep inside your core. “But I can smell it on you the second you walk into a room; the change in your hormones, the sweetness of your sweat, and even this.”

You moan pathetically as he pulls your shorts to the side, sliding his fingers beneath them to collect your juices and spread them up and down your length. “No panties either, huh? Turns out I was right about you.”

“Jesus, Miguel,” you plead, grasping onto his forearm just to make sure that he stays close enough to keep kindling your flame.

“Your body’s never gonna lie to me about what it wants.” He leans down and pushes his fingers inside of you, grinning against your ear as you nod helplessly in agreement. “No matter how hard you fucking try.”

He presses his thumb against your clit while kissing his way down your neck, shoulder and knee as he continues to hold your leg in its prolonged stretch. His hungry lips leave a delicious trail down the bottom of your thigh that grows more sensitive as he thrusts his fingers in and out of your burning desire with such delicate ease only he could bring forth.

“There’s no way you’re gonna relax enough for this stretch to work,” he teases. “Not like this, anyways.”

He kisses the skin around your hips, releasing his grip on your leg just enough to let it fall onto his shoulder as he lowers himself down your body. “Now, if only there was a way I could get you to relax...” He looks up at you with nearly blackened eyes, reminding you of that onyx slick as it mixes with the sparks and embers his fingers send into your core before he licks a stripe up your dripping wet center.

Without another word, he parts your folds with his nose before tasting your inner layer, savoring the mere taste of your scent as he rubs his face all over it like a warrior with his paint. He allows himself to get lost in your unique flavor, marking himself with your sex as he all but forgets to hold onto your thigh as his tongue traces over every inch of your lower lips. His mouth encompasses you entirely as his fingers continue to work inside you, pumping spark after spark of pleasure up into the molten core of your body before drenching your swollen bud in his sensual spit.

You find yourself running your fingers through his auburn locks as he takes your clit between his teeth, licking and sucking on it with eyes fixated only on you as your hips rock in tandem with the rhythm of his wrist. His fingers pound deep inside you as he hums against your bud, brushing against that bundle of nerves until that flame inside you finally bursts into an eruption of ecstasy you’d never even thought possible. Every nerve in your body ignites in a series of blissful explosions, catching fire the more he devours your raw flesh until you’re crying out and violently shaking beneath him, completely combusted.

That pain in your thigh seems to disappear entirely as a healing wave of warmth coats your skin and muscles, vibrating in your bones as he moans his approval into your well spent sex with one last lick.

“I think that oughta do it.”

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x reader #oscar isaac #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara fan fiction #marvel #spiderman 2099

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feenoire · 28 days

Text

Heartfelt Veils II. A Doe Loves Its Wolf

stepdad!joel miller x f!reader

rating: 18+ minors dni

word count: 6.2k

warnings: age difference (18/50), sexual harassment (cat call), fluff, angst, sexual tension, sexual acts.

summary: spending your 18th birthday with your stepdad ended up being an unforgettable day, one that will forever linger in your mind.

a/n: Joel quoting Romeo’s line in spanish, that’s the note. i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

series masterlist

The drizzle cascades outside, tapping the window of your bedroom. The pumpkin spice candle fills your room with its warm, comforting scent. You’re sitting on a chair, pen in hand, as you pour your thoughts into your diary at the study desk.

“Dear diary, I almost cry at the sweetness of October. Woken early by Joel, who made breakfast for me: avocado toast and raspberry juice. Days seep by like the stain of a raspberry on my pearl blouse. A week has gone by since I arrived in this small town, this new haven—Joel’s home. I could make a list of all the warmest things: my new chamber, forest saunter, delicacies, cold weather, the sleekness of his wood carvings, and Joel.

I’m afraid to admit it, but I think I like Joel, he’s like a sin worth hunting for. Something’s wrong with me because I know I’m not supposed to feel this way. My heart beats steadfastly for him, his brown eyes warm like the morning sun. For the first time, I feel like someone truly pays attention to me and genuinely cares what I have to say. I feel seen. Unlike the ghost I have been for the last seventeen years. He is flowers in my stomach. I always think of him before I fall asleep. Nightmares fade.

But I tried to convince myself that he was just being nice like most stepdads would do, because they can be kind at first but become total assholes later, that it was all just a pretense, they just want your mother, not you. That’s what I heard from my friends. But I truly hope Joel isn’t like that. That this feeling I have right now is just a phase, that he’s just a phase…”

The knock on the door startles you as you’re lost in your thoughts, letting them flow onto the book in front of you. In a panic, you quickly shut your diary and hide it in the drawer. Knowing you’d be dead if someone read it.

“Sweetheart, are you ready yet?” his deep, husky voice speaks.

“Yeah. I’ll be just a few minutes.”

“Alright. I’m gonna wait outside, okay?” says he from behind the door.

“Okay.”

After his footsteps fade, you put on your jacket over your sweater and grab your school bag. Not wanting to make him wait too long, you quickly grab your walkman before running downstairs. There, you find Joel leaning against his black 1978 Ford truck, looking like a man straight out of a magazine.

Your breath hitches and your cheeks warm at the sight of him as you stand on the front porch. He wears a denim shirt under a brown jacket that hugs his frame, showing just how big his arms are. He is divine, like the Seleucid prince. It makes you flutter.

Like the gentleman he is, he opens the car door for you with a smile as you stride toward him. You can’t help but smile and blush at his lovely gesture.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say softly.

“Ain’t no worries, little girl.”

Little Girl. You like the way he calls you that, it sends a warm sensation to your core. You don’t know why. With the husky voice of his, you secretly wish he could whisper it in your ear.

Joel gets inside the truck and starts to drive. Meanwhile, your mother leaves for work early today. Joel told her that she could stop working if she wanted to and let him provide for her, but she said no, as work keeps her busy and she likes doing it.

It feels comfortable and calming to the mind as you look at the scenery through the car’s window. Observing the little town with its shops, parks, and sidewalks covered in fallen leaves. There’s an old man riding a bicycle, with ten dogs following him, stepping with their little legs. The sight brings a smile to your face. In the distance, a big mountain blanketed in fog. The weather is getting colder, as it nears November.

“What are you listening to?” Joel says, breaking the silence.

You don’t turn the volume all the way up on your walkman, so you can still hear Joel talking through the headphones.

“Um, just an old song from my mixtape.”

Joel smiles. “Why don’t you put your little mixtape on the stereo so I can listen to it too?”

Part of you is embarrassed at the thought of Joel listening to your playlist, or maybe you’re scared that he will judge you for it, without realizing how much you care about what or how Joel thinks of you. But a small part of you is delighted that you could listen to your favorite songs with him.

“Yeah, sure.”

You take off your headphones and put the tape in the player. The soft melody of Mazzy Star’s “Blue Light” fills the car.

Joel smiles as he listens. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one.”

“You have?”

“I have, it’s glorious.”

You smile, glancing at him. “It is, isn’t it?”

“You look like this song would if it were a person.”

His words make your cheeks flush. It’s the best thing anyone has ever said to you, especially when it comes from Joel. You try to shift the conversation back to him. “What kind of music are you into?”

“Fleetwood Mac, Bob Dylan, David Bowie—”

“I love David Bowie!” you say enthusiastically.

Joel laughs softly at your enthralled reaction. He watches you with a look of admiration in his eyes. “Me too, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you whisper as you bow your head. Scolding yourself internally for losing your composure in front of him.

“Don’t be.”

The song changes to “Storms” by Fleetwood Mac as you look out of the window again, gazing at the white swans swimming on the lake, beautiful as a painting. Time seems to speed up, and soon you see the big wooden sign on the side of the road that reads, ‘Welcome to Lakewood.’

The car passes by towering trees as you approach the small town. You’re so caught up in the scenery before your eyes that you don’t realize Joel has been looking at you. The town is beautiful, much like Silvervale, but a bit bigger.

Finally, you arrive at Lakewood High School. The school is big and built with maroon-colored bricks. Forest trees stand tall behind the building. Joel pulls over in front of the entrance. Some students head inside. The parking lot is full of cars and motorcycles, with teenagers hanging around despite the forty-five degrees weather.

You feel nervous, and your hand is slightly shaking. But you don’t realize it until Joel reaches for your trembling hand and holds it, enveloping your small hand with his large, warm, and calloused one. The contrast between his rough skin and your softness is noticeable.

“Are you okay?” he asks calmly.

You look at your trembling hand covered by Joel’s. Trying to control your anxiety and take a deep breath.

The idea of starting all over again, introducing yourself to strangers scared you more than you realize. You’re scared of being perceived and what if you’re not able to find a friend? You’ve always been a wallflower at your old school, with only one or two friends.

But you push the thoughts away—you’re not going to break down in front of Joel. Instead, you try to focus on the warmth of his hand. It calms you down and alleviates your pounding heart and trembling body.

You nod. “Yeah, I-I’m okay.”

His eyes are full of concern. “You don’t have to do this today if you don’t want to. I can take you back here tomorrow.”

“No, no, I’m okay, I promise.”

You don’t want to burden Joel, who already takes time before work to drive you here. You’re not going to let a little anxiety ruin your day, especially his.

“Are you sure?”

You give him a smile as a sign that you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m sure. Thank you for driving me.”

“Not at all.”

You open the car door and as you try to get out, Joel still clasps your hand, stopping you.

“Joel?”

His gaze is unwavering and intense as he looks at you. “Call me if you need anything okay? Don’t hesitate,” he says with his thumb gently caressing your hand.

Your breath hitches from the intense eye contact. The tension between you is palpable, making your heart race. Unsure if he can feel it or if it’s just you. The pulsing in your core returns and it starts to ache—you’ve never felt like this with anyone before. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache. Joel’s gaze shifts from your eyes to your thighs, and his eyes darken.

“Little girl,” he whispers.

You try to hold back the whimper at the sensation and the way he calls you. “I-I have to go,” you murmur.

You withdraw your hand from him and get out of the car with a pounding heart. You welcome the cool refreshing air and take a deep breath. No one has ever affected you the way Joel has, and you can’t comprehend why. Trying to calm down and gather your thoughts, you head inside the building without looking back and decide to find the front office to collect your schedule and the school map.

Time passes, and the school bell rings signaling the end of the school day. Finally.

You didn’t really pay much attention to your surroundings today. You spent your lunch break alone in the wildflower meadow in the forest behind the school, sipping the cherry cola you bought from the vending machine and smoking a few cigarettes. With your walkman on and your favorite book as your companion.

You got to know a few people from your classes, but not many. Some of the teachers were nice and helpful. The thing you hated the most was the boys hanging out in the hallway, whistling loudly at you as you walked to class. Shitheads.

The last class of the day was English, taught by the handsome teacher Mr. Wayne—according to the students. He’s around thirty, with light tan skin, brown hair, brown eyes, and a slightly graying beard. He’s the youngest male teacher at school, which is why most of the girls are after him. It seems like everybody pays attention to what he teaches in class, or maybe they just admire his looks. He assigned everyone in class a copy of Romeo and Juliet by Shakespeare and asked them to write an essay about it.

After you leave the school building, you don’t call Joel to pick you up as he asked you to. Instead, you walk through the forest, but not too far from the road. Keeping your phone’s map open to guide you home.

The earthy and musky scent of the fallen leaves is prominent. The faint breeze gently blows through your hair and rustles the leaves scattered around you. The sky is getting dim, and you have no idea why. You check your watch—it’s only 3:20 PM. You’ve been walking for twenty minutes, with just thirty more to go until you arrive. So, you tighten the jacket around you and walk faster.

After what happened this morning, you don’t dare to face Joel, so it’s best to just avoid him. The way he held your hand, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, was all too much. What if he feels the same way you do and is struggling with it just like you? You swear it was there—the palpable force of tension and electricity between the two of you. Maybe you’re just crazy, imagining things that weren’t there, that it was all in your head. What is wrong with you? He’s your stepdad—why do you feel this way? You’re certain that if someone could read your mind, they’d put you in a mental institution.

Now that you’re alone, you let the tears fall from your eyes. Your heart aches as you wonder if what you feel for him is genuine. Joel is a very kind man and a great partner for your mother, and you’re just a dumb seventeen-year-old girl who holds a secret longing for him. You secretly pray to God that these feelings will fade away. Reminding yourself that you need to control how you feel and distance yourself from Joel from now on before something bad happens.

As you continue walking you hear a faint crunching sound on the fallen leaves behind you. Heart pounding, afraid someone might be following you. It turns out it’s a black kitten trailing behind you as you look back. It meows at you as you approach, and your heart softens.

“Hey, are you alone?” you say softly.

Of course, it only answers you with a meow. You look around but you don’t see another cat. The kitten is alone. You wonder where its mother is. As you kneel on the ground and inspect it, its fur is dirty and tangled, and one of its legs is crooked. It’s a girl. You can’t leave her here alone—what if she dies?

“Why don’t you come home with me?” you whisper to the kitten.

You carefully lift her from the ground and carry her with you. She purrs and snuggles into your jacket as you hold her small form gently in your hands. You smile at the sight.

“You’re okay now, let’s go home.”

The kitten occupies your mind now; all you can think about is getting her home, giving her a warm bath, and tending to her crooked leg. The thoughts about Joel leave your mind.

It’s 4:20 PM by the time you arrive home, soaking wet. Late because you had to take shelter from the rain under the bus stop pavilion, shielding the kitten in your jacket’s inner pocket. You cursed yourself for wearing a black mini skirt today, and now your legs are so cold they almost feel numb.

The driveway is empty, signaling that no one is home. You take the spare key from under the doormat and quickly get inside. You bathe the kitten and take a hot shower yourself, then tend to her tiny, crooked leg before falling asleep in your bed with her.

Unsure how long you’ve been asleep—whether it’s been minutes or hours. You feel a big hand gently caressing your head, which wakes you up from your slumber. You open your eyes slowly and adjust your vision; there you see Joel bent over looking at you with a face full of concern, and his hand on your hair.

“Joel?” you murmur.

“Little girl, where have you been?”

You rub your eyes and slowly sit up, gathering your consciousness. “What?”

He sits on the edge of the bed. “I called and texted you, but you didn’t answer. I told you to call me to pick you up. Then, I went to your school, and you weren’t there, I was sca—” he bows his head and takes a deep breath.

It’s the first time you’ve ever seen Joel looks so scared. His eyebrows are drawn together, his jaw tense, and fear is evident in his eyes.

“Joel, I—”

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere, and your mom too—she was terrified. Where the hell have you been?”

You made everyone worry about you, and you feel so guilty about it. You should have at least let them know. Overwhelmed and too caught up in what happened this morning, you don’t dare reach out to him.

“I-I’m sorry, Joel. I was taking a walk home through the woods to… to clear my mind,” you say, your voice slightly shaking. “I’m so sorry for making you worry; I didn’t mean to.”

Joel’s face softens at your explanation. “But sweetheart, that’s like an hour’s walk.”

“I know,” you whisper.

“It’s still too dangerous, baby. You can’t just walk around the woods. What if you get attacked by animals or worse?”

“I didn’t think about it. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just don’t ever do that again.”

Joel is a remarkably handsome man, even when he’s worried, and you can’t help but admire his beauty. In return, he meets your gaze, his brown eyes make you feel safe and warm. His hand tries to reach your face, but you turn your head away and shift the conversation. Joel pulls back his hand.

“I found a kitten in the woods, her leg’s injured. So, I brought her home,” you say, pointing to the kitten sleeping on your pillow.

A smile starts to form on his lips as he looks at the little creature. “I didn’t even realize she was there.”

“Is it okay? I can’t leave her alone.”

“It’s okay, little girl,” he says warmly.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say with a smile. “Where’s mom?”

“Downstairs. She’s upset, I’m gonna talk to her.”

“No, it’s alright. Let me talk to her,” you say. “After all, it’s my fault.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Unconsciously, you remove the blanket from your lap and climb out of bed, stepping over Joel’s thigh. The cold air and the rough fabric of his jeans against your bare legs remind you that you’re only wearing a t-shirt and panties. Joel clears his throat, his cheeks turning red. Embarrassed, you quickly apologize and stride to your closet, shutting the door behind you.

God damn it. How could I forget?

As you go downstairs, you find your mother sitting in the dining room. Joel was right—she’s upset, it’s evident on her face. You stand across the table as your mother’s gaze shifts from the window to you. Your heart feels heavy with guilt as you look at her.

“Mom, I’m so—”

“Where have you been?” she says, her voice elevating.

“I’m so sorry, Mom. I was just taking a walk home, that’s all. I didn’t go anywhere else.”

“Well, you can’t just fucking disappear like that! We were looking for you everywhere. If Joel hadn’t told me, I probably wouldn’t have known.”

“I know, Mom. I’m sorry,” you whisper, trying to hold back your tears.

“No, you didn’t. You wouldn’t have fucking done it if you had known.”

Her words make your tears fall down your cheeks, and you sob quietly. Your mother is always like that—very strict about everything: where you go, what you wear, what time you come home. It’s as if she has been scared for you your whole life, and you never understand why. That’s why you are always cooped up at home.

“You go straight home from school from now on. Joel will pick you up, and no more taking a walk bullshit!” she exclaims. “You’re not going to let everything I’ve done to move here and protect you go to waste—”

She doesn’t finish her sentence, but instead, she lowers her head and shakes it.

“Protect me from what?” you ask softly, but your question is met with silence. “Mom—”

“Go to your room!” she yells, making you flinch. “No dinner tonight.”

Without a word, you obey her and go upstairs to your room. In the hallway, you catch a glimpse of Joel sitting on his bed with the door open, his face full of concern. You close your door and cry into your pillow.

In the middle of the night, a knock on your door wakes you up. When you open it, you find a tray of food on the floor: a plate of salmon noodles and a glass of milk. It must be Joel; you know your mother wouldn’t do this. You eat the food with your kitten and then go back to sleep.

October 31

On Halloween day, you lie in the wildflower meadow behind the school like you always do every day during lunch break. Too overwhelmed by the crowd inside, especially the cafeteria, you’ve never eaten there, not even once. You don’t care, though. You love spending your time alone here, with no one to bother you.

The school hosting a Halloween-themed event, allowing students to wear costumes. With a pair of wings, a flowing white dress, and a crucifix necklace, you completed your Juliet Capulet costume. It honestly makes you feel angelic.

It’s your birthday today, and you turn eighteen. You wonder if there’s someone who has a birthday on Halloween as well. If so, they probably live on the other side of the world.

It seems like your mother and Joel forgot your birthday since they didn’t say anything to you. Which makes you feel a bit sad today. To celebrate your birthday, you bought a slice of chocolate cake from the vending machine. You don’t even know what to wish for as you want to blow out the candle, so you just blow it out and eat the cake.

A little while later, you notice a doe standing near the shrubs around the trees, not too far from you. She catches your eye, she’s beautiful just like the one in your painting. So, you get up from your spot and slowly approach her, stopping a few feet away so you don’t scare the doe. You wish you could caress her soft fur and give her gentle kisses. Her eyes are captivating as she looks at you. Maybe it’s your deepest desire that comes true right after you blow out your candle. This very moment makes you feel like you’re in some kind of fairy tale.

The doe slowly steps towards you, but suddenly runs away when she hears a branch crack behind you. As you look back, you catch a glimpse of a man, but he is quickly hiding behind a tree. Heart pounding as you come to the realization that it’s similar to what happened in your dreams. Without thinking further, you run back towards the school. Suddenly, it feels so far, maybe because you have gone too deep into the woods than you realized. All you can think is to run and run; your breath is heavy and your stomach hurts. You hear footsteps behind you, but you do not dare to look back.

Keep running, keep running!

Finally, you reach the school building. Knowing that there are many people around, you dare to look back, and there’s no one is following you. You stand at the edge of the school, confused and feeling like you’re losing your mind. But you’re sure that what you saw was real, not just some trick your mind wanted to see. Suddenly, a hand touches your shoulder, making you flinch and turn around.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

It takes you a few seconds to calm your breath and pounding heart as you look at the person in front of you. His face is full of concern as he looks at you.

“Yeah, I’m okay, Mr. Wayne,” you say.

“You look like you’ve just seen a ghost. Are you sure?”

“I just… I thought I saw something, but it’s nothing.”

He nods and speaks calmly, “Okay. Why don’t you just join the party inside with the other students.”

“Yes, Mr. Wayne.”

Joel picks you up after school like he always does. By the time you get home, the house smells like baked goods and cherries.

“Take a walk with me?” says Joel from behind you. His deep voice echoes through the living room.

You turn around and look at him. “Alright. But where are we going?”

He smiles. “You’ll see.”

Joel holds your small hand with his large one as he leads you into the forest behind the house, his other hand holding a picnic basket covered with a white napkin. When you ask him what it contains, he doesn’t answer.

You can’t help but secretly admire Joel’s veiny hand, side profile, and salt-and-pepper curls. He looks so good it makes your heart swell.

“Watch where you’re going, little girl,” says Joel, with a smirk on his face. He catches you eyeing him, like a moth drawn to a flame.

A soft blush tints your cheeks from being caught. “Why can’t you just tell me where we’re going?”

“Patience, baby.”

Walking in the woods again reminds you of what happened earlier. So, you stay cautious throughout the entire walk, hoping no one is following you this time.

A little while later, you arrive at the spot Joel wanted to show you. Hidden behind the tall bushes is a serene lake, where swans swim gracefully. The lake is surrounded by trees and bushes, making it feel like a secret garden.

By the side of the lake is a bone-colored picnic blanket stretched out on the grass, with a few unlit scented candles placed on top of it.

“Joel?” you say, shifting your gaze to him who’s already looking at you with admiration.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

Overwhelmed with happiness, you hug him. “Thank you, Joel. I thought everyone had forgotten.”

“Of course, I didn’t,” he says, his lips brushing your hair.

Pulling back, you gaze up at him. “But mom did. She didn’t say a word to me today. When I woke up, she was already gone.”

Joel caresses your hair with his hand. “Your mom’s busy with work as usual, but I got your present from her.”

That makes you feel a bit better, at least your mother hasn’t entirely forgotten your day. She’s never been there, and you’re always home alone on your birthdays—just buying takeout and watching TV, nothing special. The last time your birthday was celebrated was when you were six. If you’re being honest, you don’t really like having your birthday celebrated. You hate getting older and seeing it as a reminder that death is getting nearer.

But seeing Joel surprise you with all of this makes you think that maybe you deserve it for once. You’re forever grateful that he came into your life and his kindness, for treating you like his own family and making you feel cherished.

The two of you sit on the blanket. Joel takes out the items from the basket while you admire the view. There are countless lavender flowers growing around the lake, and fireflies fly around, glimmering in the foggy air.

Joel takes out the most beautiful cake ever—a heart-shaped cake with pink icing and red cherries on top. He places a tiny candle in the middle.

You blush and smile so widely that your cheeks almost hurt. “Joel, it’s so beautiful. Did you make this?”

He grins. “Yeah, how do you know?”

“The house smelled like cake when we arrived.”

“You caught me.”

“Seriously, Joel, I really love this. Thank you.”

“You deserve this, little girl.”

Have no idea when this will happen again, you savor this beautiful moment and every small thing. You’re not going to let this day be forgotten.

Joel takes a picture of you with his beat-up phone as you blow out the candle. But the birthday cake isn’t the only thing he brings; there’s also grapefruit juice, brownies, chocolates, blueberries, and much more. The two of you eat together, adoring the view and the swans.

“Wish I could stay here forever.”

“You like it here?” he asks.

“Of course I do. I mean, just look at this place—it’s beautiful here,” you say with a smile. “You’re lucky to live here.”

He smiles. “Well, you live here too now, sweetheart. It’s your home.”

“Thank you, Joel, for letting us live with you and for everything.”

“I’m glad to have you here, little girl. It feels more like home now with people around. I’ve been alone for a long time; I came home to a cold house, and it’s warm now with you here.”

The idea of Joel coming to a cold and empty home tugs at your heart. You can’t imagine him being so lonely all the time with no one to care for him. He deserves love and comfort. It makes you a bit glad that your mother has come into his life to fill the emptiness and give him what he needs, even though you secretly wish you could be the one to give it to him.

“I’m gonna keep the fire warm for you.”

Joel’s face softens as he looks at you. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms as you gaze into those dazzling brown eyes and see the sincerity on his face. “I haven’t thanked you enough for everything you’ve done for me—the room, this wonderful birthday, taking me to school, making me breakfast every morning—”

“Sweetheart—”

“For letting Ponyo live with us—”

With a soft expression, he giggles at the mention of your kitten, and you giggle too.

“And so much more,” you whisper.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to thank me for any of it. I’m doing it all for you, and I love every second of it,” says he. “It feels good to have someone to care for.”

You beam.

“So, how was school? Did you make any friends?”

At the mention of friends, your smile slowly fades. “Not really. I’ve been spending time alone. But it’s okay. I mean, I’m not really a people person anyway.”

He gives you a warm smile. “That’s okay, little girl. Sometimes it just takes time. But promise me, if something happens or if you need someone to talk to, you’ll come straight to me, okay? I’m always here.”

“I will. Thank you, Joel.”

You’ve never felt so heard before; it’s like a burden has been lifted from your shoulders. The two of you sit in silence for a while, savoring the peaceful moment.

“They’re beautiful, the swans,” you say.

“They look just like you,” says he, with a heartfelt tone.

You blush and smile, and frankly don’t know how to respond to Joel’s sweet words. Every time he talks to you, it’s as if poetry flows naturally from his mouth.

“Have I told you that you look like a damn angel today, sweetheart?”

“Thank you, Joel,” you whisper and look at him, feeling his breath on your cheeks from how close you two are sitting. “That’s because I’m dressed as Juliet.”

“Belleza demasiado valiosa para ser adquirida, demasiado exquisita para la tierra,” says he.

Cheeks warm and heart racing at his words even though you don’t what it means or what he’s saying. Suddenly, it feels hard to breathe from the strength of the invisible string pulling the two of you together.

You keep your gaze on his eyes as you ask softly, “What does it mean?”

He gently bumps his forehead against yours, making your heart skip a beat. “It means you’re beautiful, little girl.”

It must mean more than that.

You try hard to keep yourself from grabbing his curls and slamming your lips to his, letting him take your breath away. He’s too tantalizing, like a forbidden fruit. But you quickly remind yourself that he is your mother’s boyfriend, not yours.

Joel slowly caresses your soft cheek with his calloused hand and leans forward until your noses touch. But you turn your face away and lower your head. Refusing to let yourself forget the reality.

Did Joel just try to kiss you? The thought races through your mind as you try to make sense of it, sending a rush of heat to your cheeks.

“Can… can I open the presents?” you murmur.

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah, sure, sweetheart.”

Joel takes the wrapped presents out of the basket, and you glance at him, catching something in his expression—is it sadness? You’re not sure. But you try your best to brighten the moment again.

Your mother gifted you a cozy, beautifully knit sweater and a new pair of shoes. Meanwhile, Joel surprised you with an “Among My Swan” vinyl and a lovely wood carving of your kitten, Ponyo, which makes you feel as jolly as a child.

“Oh my god, Joel, this is amazing. Thank you!”

Without further thought, you throw yourself at Joel and envelop him in a hug. In return, Joel laughs softly, circling his arms around you and pulling you into his lap, enveloping your much smaller body.

“You’re welcome, little girl.”

The masculine scent of cedarwood and leather is strong as you bury your face in his neck. It’s comforting and arousing at the same time. You wish you could stay in Joel’s embrace forever, knowing that everything will be okay.

As you try to pull back from his embrace, Joel tightens his arms around you, holding you closer.

“Joel?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

He loosens his arms a little so he can glance at your face. From this close, you can see the texture of his skin—a little wrinkled around the eyes but soft at the same time. His eyes are rich, chocolate brown, but the pupils take over as they dilate when you lock eyes with him. His lips look soft with a natural pinkish hue, and his breath smells like coffee and grapefruit juice.

Joel Miller is beautiful.

His gaze shifts from your eyes to your lips as you start to talk. “Joel, I—”

He interrupts you with a bruising kiss on your lips before you can finish your sentence. His large hand lands on the back of your neck, pulling you closer, while his other arm tightens around your waist.

Oh my. You close your eyes and let him kiss you, feeling his beard rub against your cheeks and chin. Kissing Joel feels like you can finally breathe like he’s giving you his breath to make you feel alive.

Truthfully, you don’t really know what to do—this is the first time you kiss someone. Joel Miller is the one who takes it.

Your hands fist the back of his shirt and tangle in his curls as you moan into his mouth, giving his tongue an opening. Joel groans into your mouth at the sound of your sweet noises. He takes it as an invitation, so he passionately explores your mouth with his tongue, stroking yours and getting lost in the dance.

“Tastes so sweet,” he murmurs between kisses.

His lips are a bit dry but soft, tasting like the blueberries he just ate—sweet and intoxicating. The kiss grows firmer, more desperate—something you’ve never felt before. He sucks on your bottom lip and slips his tongue inside again, leaving a trail of wetness.

You feel something hard pressing against your core, but you don’t know what it is. The warm sensation in your core worsens, pulsing to the point that it starts to hurt. You can’t hold back a whimper at the sensation and start to grind on it slowly to ease the ache, and he begins to groan.

“Joel,” you whisper breathlessly.

“Little girl,” he murmurs, panting.

He tightens his grip on your waist to stop your grinding. Slowly, you open your eyes and see the pain on his face. It grounds you to your senses, making you realize that what you’re doing right now is completely wrong. This is exactly what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“This is wrong,” you whisper, starting to cry.

You try to pull back from his embrace, reaching for his arm to let you go. His face shows hurt and the realization of what he’s just done. He releases you from his lap, and you sit on the blanket, concealing your face with your palms as you begin to sob.

“I’m so sorry, Joel,” you murmur, your voice muffled.

“No, baby, It’s my fault. I’m so sorry.”

You feel his hand carefully touch your shoulder, and he begins to hold your trembling form in his embrace. You can’t look at him, feeling too guilty about what you’ve just done. Joel is your stepdad; this is deeply wrong. You ruined everything and betrayed your mother.

“Oh God, what have I done?” you whisper under your breath.

“I am so sorry, baby. This is not your fault, okay? Please listen to me,” Joel says, his voice filled with pain, as if he’s on the verge of crying.

You keep apologizing to him, even as he tells you to stop. Yet, he still embraces you gently, as if you’re something delicate and fragile.

After a few moments, you’re able to control your sobs and stop crying. You let him hold your hand as he walks you back home. Once he’s sure you’re okay, he returns to the lake to clean up and give you some time alone.

Lying on your bed, eyes dry from tears, you replay everything that just happened. You start to feel numb, unable to cry anymore, and your head aches. You try to focus on the good things that happened today, but the image of kissing Joel and the guilt cloud your mind, making it impossible to forget.

The sky grows darker outside the window, and the sound of children laughing and trick-or-treating from the street reaches your room. But you don’t hear any noise from downstairs or any sign of Joel coming back.

Where’s Joel? Is he okay?

Feeling lonely and cold, you feel guilty for wishing Joel could be here to hug you and keep you warm. Ponyo’s presence snuggling on your chest makes you feel a bit better; maybe you’re not as lonely after all.

Eventually, you fall asleep with your wings still on.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #stepdad!joel #stepdad!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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nadvs · 24 days

Text

out of bounds (part three)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | part two

» masterlist

Zach regrets coming to your cabin last night.

Not because your boss stopped by. Early this morning, he ran into Ruby and she didn’t even mention catching you together after hours. She doesn’t suspect a thing.

He should’ve known that she wouldn’t think he was breaking any rules. He has a reputation for being responsible.

He regrets coming over because now, when he sees you from across the loud dining hall at breakfast, he can’t reign in his rushing thoughts about last night.

You’d stood over him as he sat and his hands were on his knees, nearly brushing against your legs, and it wouldn’t have taken much effort at all to run his palms over your thighs as your fingertips ghosted over his face.

You looking down at him like that, having full control over him, stirred something deep in his core. The way you touched him was innocent, but it made his body tense with desire. You were so close to him, your presence so intoxicating.

He fell asleep thinking about your time alone in your cabin, but instead of remembering the reality of you stepping away, he imagined you straddling him in the chair he was sitting in, pressing your lips against his, and giving him permission to run his hands over your curves.

Zach looks down at his plate. He’s sure he’s blushing. It’s insane how fast his mind has run away from him. His longing for you is starting to feel like a need, like he might feel actual pain if he doesn’t get to touch you in some way.

But it’s not allowed. And besides, if it was, even though you’ve definitely been flirting with him, you might not even like him that much. Maybe if he asked if he could kiss you or touch you, you’d tense up and look at him with distaste. He’d hate to make you feel uncomfortable.

He clears his throat and tries to focus on work. Oliver is actually eating a decent amount for once. He’s still not really talking, but he seems a little more at ease.

Zach has to thank you for helping him figure out that apparently, the kid is very particular about his appetite. He’s excited he’ll have a chance to do so when you run morning drills together.

After breakfast, as scheduled, you approach the west field with your girls following closely behind, listening to them chatter about the weird dreams they had last night.

Seconds later, one of them calls your name.

“Yeah?”

“Who are we running drills with now?”

“Zach’s group,” you say. A couple of girls giggle.

“He’s so cute,” one of them says quietly. You look ahead. They obviously have a crush on him. So do you.

You’re kind of nervous to see him considering how tense things got last night, but when he spots you, he smiles, and it brushes away all your worry.

“About time,” Zach playfully scoffs when you reach him, his campers jogging up and down the pitch.

“What’d you wait, like two minutes?” you reply, dropping the bag of supplies you’re carrying.

“Hi, Zach,” one of your campers sing-songs, earning her friends’ laughter.

“Hi,” he says kindly. “You ready for some passing drills?”

You smile to yourself. He’s totally oblivious to the fact that he has almost every girl on this campground smitten.

After you finish setting up cones and soccer balls across the field, you stand next to Zach at the touchline. As the vet, he takes the lead, shouting instructions to the group of 18 kids.

You glance at him every so often, pretending you’re following along, when really, you’re thinking about last night. Every word and every touch you shared was light and friendly, but it was all over an undercurrent of tension.

You look out at the kids again, reminding yourself that you need to keep things professional, no matter how charming he is.

After the blow of Zach’s whistle, you walk along the line of campers practicing passing, arms crossed as you focus on their footwork. You offer compliments and suggestions as you pace up the field, and minutes later, you join Zach at the side again.

“So, is it working?” he asks. “Do you like soccer again?”

You smile. He remembers how you told him that part of the reason you came to work here was to rekindle your love for the sport.

Even though the job is tiring, you have enjoyed it quite a lot. It’s refreshing seeing kids get excited about soccer the same way you used to. It’s a good reminder of why you started playing.

“Yeah,” you say, your tone soft as you look out at the deep green pitch. “I came to the right place.”

Zach’s eyes trail over your profile. He couldn’t agree more.

A few minutes later, Oliver breaks out of the line and approaches you.

“Hey, buddy,” Zach says. He’s dreading that he’ll tell him he wants to sit out yet again.

“Can I have some water?” he asks. Zach realizes he’s looking up at you, clearly having found some comfort in you.

“Of course,” you say, fishing out a bottle from the cooler. “Did you like the waffles this morning?”

“Yeah,” he says timidly. “Thanks.”

“It was all Zach,” you say. “He’s the one who bought them and got up early to make them. I think you got the best counselor here.”

Oliver looks up at Zach with a small smile. It’s the first look of genuine happiness he’s seen on the boy’s face. After he drinks water, he rushes back out onto the field.

“I didn’t mean it,” you tease Zach. “You’re the worst.”

He laughs and resists the urge to playfully push your shoulder. Getting close to you is a bad idea, because he’ll only want more.

“You’re good with kids,” he says. He can’t help but think about you meeting his sister. He knows she’d like you. “Pretty sure that’s the first time he smiled since he got here.”

You were expecting him to tease you back, so the sincere compliment throws you. You meet his eyes, feeling the same sense of easy compatibility you felt last night.

The morning sun washes over his features in its orange glow. He’s so handsome that you almost forget you shouldn’t be staring.

“So, I’m better at this job than you are?” you say.

“Okay, whoa,” he replies. “I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it.”

“Did not.”

You share a moment of laughter, but once it fades, you don’t look away from each other. Your heart starts to speed up like it always does when he gazes at you.

It feels like an elephant in the room, what happened the last time you spoke, and you desperately want to clear the air.

“Everything good after last night? You seemed…” You don’t want to use the word nervous. And upset doesn’t feel right, either. You decide not to finish the sentence. “Did you talk to Ruby?”

“She didn’t think anything was up,” he tells you. You sigh in relief, glad your jobs and reputations aren’t in jeopardy. “I mean, not that anything was up.”

You slowly nod, not sure how to take his words. Maybe it really was all in your head. Maybe your feelings are totally unrequited.

Zach catches the way your lips twist. He immediately feels anxious. He doesn’t want to hurt your feelings. And he definitely doesn’t want you to think he feels nothing for you.

“I mean,” he stammers, “that’s not what I mean.”

His muscles lose some tension when he sees you crack a smile.

“So, what do you mean?” you ask.

Zach looks down, digging the tip of his sneaker into the grass simply to have something to do as nerves fill his body. You have a ridiculous effect on him.

“Just that we weren’t breaking any rules.” He swallows the lump in his throat. “But, uh, if there was a rule I’d break…”

Your skin flushes, butterflies going wild in your stomach. He’s saying it without saying it.

“Same,” you reply. His gaze darts up to you. A pink hue spreads over his cheeks.

You both just indirectly confessed your feelings for one another and there’s nothing you can do about it. You blink a few times as you gaze at him.

“God,” he mutters with a half-laugh. “Don’t do that.”

“I literally didn’t do anything.”

“You’re…” He sighs and crosses his arms. “Looking at me like that.”

You tear your eyes off of him, stifling your smile.

“Like a coworker, you mean?” you reply. “Professionally?”

He laughs again, unsure of how the hell he’s going to last the rest of the camp season wanting a girl and knowing she wants him back and having to pretend like none of that’s true.

After the passing drill, you work on defense with your campers while Zach works on offense with his, then switch. For the last drill, you set up games of two-on-two.

You’re winded when you’re behind the touchline again, having run a drill with every girl in your group in quick succession. You’re downing water when Zach jogs up to you.

“Hey, your…” he says, pointing down. “I’ll just do it.”

In a second, he’s on his knee in front of you, tying your loose shoelace. You swallow your water, looking down, wondering how nice it’d feel to have your fingers in his tousled hair.

“Thank you,” you say, still a bit breathless.

He looks up with a smile. Your stares linger and then he straightens, standing beside you. And you’re supposed to keep your distance from this man? It’ll be impossible.

The rest of the day is a tiring blur. After dinner, you find Ami to remind her that you’re on one of the overnight shifts, so if she wants to see Malcolm after hours, your cabin will be free.

You only really do it for Zach’s sake so that he doesn’t get kicked out of his cabin again. Before you head over to one of the girls’ cabins to sleep, you text him: just so you know, i made sure ami knows i’m on an overnight so if she needs an empty cabin tonight, it won’t be yours.

Zach replies a few minutes later: You’re the best.

Then, a second text from him comes in: Professionally.

Over the next few days, your encounters with Zach are quick and friendly. He’s keeping his distance just like you are, avoiding any opportunity to have time alone.

It’s not until Friday afternoon, day seven of camp, that you’re scheduled to work another drill together.

When you meet Zach at the pitch, you’re endeared to see that Oliver is actually talking with him. As you approach, directing your girls to line up for a dribbling drill, you overhear them talking about video games.

“You can’t even get past the second one?” Oliver says.

“Does it count if my sister helps?”

“No!”

“Then, no,” Zach replies.

“But it’s so easy,” he says. “And you’re so old.”

“Alright, ten laps just for that,” Zach jokes. Oliver laughs and you smile to yourself.

“You are old,” you say to Zach when you approach them at the touchline.

“We’re the same age,” he replies.

“That’s irrelevant,” you say, then look to Oliver. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he says. “We saw a badger yesterday. He was huge.”

“I hope he didn’t get too close.”

“Zach didn’t let us chase him,” Oliver complains.

“Probably a good thing,” you giggle, your eyes flitting up to meet Zach’s gaze.

You smile at him and even though it’s only been a few days since you had a proper conversation, he really misses seeing that smile.

Your campers settle into their own drills before merging, giving you and Zach a chance to chat privately.

“He’s really opened up,” you say, standing next to him.

“Yeah. He’s still not talking much with any of the other kids, but we talk all the time.”

“Baby steps,” you say, smiling as you watch Oliver practicing backheel kicks with another boy.

“I asked him if he’s making any friends, but he didn’t really answer,” Zach says. “I have a bad feeling they’re being rough on him and I don’t see it. I hope I’m wrong.”

“I hope you’re wrong, too,” you say sadly.

Zach gazes at you again, heart pinching from the way you frown at the thought.

“Tomorrow should be fun,” he says, changing the subject. “It’s a good break for us.”

You nod. Saturdays at camp are dedicated to fun instead of training, with plans to have a barbecue lunch by the lake, where campers will be free to swim and canoe.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you say. “Oh, have you been kicked out of your cabin lately?”

“I gave Malcolm a cut-off,” Zach tells you. “So, if he does need the place, there’s a time limit. Felt like a decent enough compromise.”

You’re glad he’s not having issues with his friend, but you do sort of wish he had an excuse to visit you when your cabin-mates are hooking up.

“Good,” you say simply.

Zach’s smile is tight, knowing you’re just trying to keep a professional distance like he is. But this sucks.

He refocuses on work.

“I was thinking of doing a round of Four Goal,” Zach says, pointing at the field. You nod, well acquainted with the games at this point, but still appreciative you get paired with vets for the support.

“But, they’ve been doing a lot of possession drills lately,” he adds. “Maybe Airball would be better.”

You glance at him to see the same pensive expression you’ve seen before. His indecisiveness is so cute.

“I can decide for you,” you say. He smirks, thinking back to that night in your cabin.

“Have I told you that you’re bossy?” he says.

“You have,” you reply, tapping his name-tag. “We’re playing Four Goal.”

“Deal,” he says with a chuckle, appreciative of how quick you are to choose. “You wanna take the lead?”

“Sure,” you say.

Before you can blow your whistle to get everyone’s attention, two of your campers come to grab water. You can tell by the way they’re eyeing Zach that they came solely to talk to him.

“Hey, Zach?” one of your girls says just loud enough to be heard over the shouting on the field.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

You’ve never been so glad that some preteen girls can be so unabashed, curious to hear how he’ll answer this.

“No way. There’s no time for girlfriends,” he says. “I’m married to this beautiful sport.” You smile, admiring how appropriately he handles the kid’s intrusive question.

Both girls giggle and rush back into the field.

“You realize that like, all the girls have a crush on you, right?” you laugh.

Before you step forward to call over all the campers on the field, Zach can’t hold himself back from flirting with you.

“I only care about if one girl has a crush on me,” he says quietly.

Your lips quirk into another smile.

“She does,” you say.

Zach purses his lips, blushing again.

You call over the campers and set up the game of Four Goals quickly. Within minutes, four teams are scattered across the field, attacking and defending goals.

You pace up and down the field on one side while Zach supervises in the other direction. Moments later, he raises his voice in a way you haven’t heard before.

“I don’t want to hear it again,” he says sharply to two boys. You realize that Oliver is standing to the side, arms crossed, looking down, and you rush over.

“We were just kidding,” one of the boys whines.

When you get close enough, you see Oliver’s eyes welling with tears, surely from whatever the boys said to him. It makes your heart ache instantly. You approach him and lead him off the field.

“You weren’t,” Zach says behind you. “That’s unacceptable.”

You lead Oliver to the main office, curious as to what was said, but not wanting to push.

You trained for this. In times of conflict between campers, one counselor should address the problem, and the other should separate the kids involved.

“You okay?” you ask softly, crouching down to his eye-level. Oliver only leans against you, sniffling. You gently pat his shoulder, letting him cry for as long as he needs to.

You confirm with Zach over the walkies that you’ll meet in the dining hall for dinner. When you make it to the building, you see him settle at the head of his table, clearly having instructed the two boys who were in trouble earlier to sit right next to him.

You ask Oliver where he’d prefer to sit. He tells you he wants to be at your table. Zach flashes you a small, grateful smile once he sees you sitting with Oliver, who keeps his head down, acting just like he did when he first got here.

Zach approaches Oliver as dinner wraps up and while you hang out with Ami by the dock during free-time, Zach sits next to Oliver at the campfire. You’re relieved when you see Oliver finally smiling again.

After lights out, Zach leaves his cabin to sit on the dock for some time alone. Minutes later, his phone buzzes with a text from you: i hope everything’s ok.

He looks up at the starry sky, wishing he could shake the heaviness sitting on his shoulders. Something that he lived through years ago was dug up today, a pale memory made fresh and cutting.

He never liked the discomfort that came with negative emotions and bad memories. It’s why he prefers to focus on having fun in the here and now.

But when he does find himself in this hole, he typically isolates himself, feeling like a burden for being anything but happy, so it’s jarring that while he doesn’t let many people see this part of him, he thinks about you sitting next to him right now.

You’re relaxing in your cabin when Zach texts you: Can you come to the dock?

The evening air is cool when you step outside. As you approach the lake, you see Zach’s broad frame in the distance, sitting at the end of the dock.

You settle beside him on the hard cedar wood, noticing that his work clothes have been swapped out for sweats and a t-shirt.

“Hi,” you say over the sound of the lake lapping against the rocks lining the shore and crickets chirping around you.

“Hey.” His eyes meet yours. They don’t have the brightness you’re used to seeing in them.

In any other scenario, you’d be worried about what sitting next to each other like this looks like to anyone who might see. But Zach’s clearly unhappy and the last thing you’re thinking about is your job right now.

“What happened?” you ask, replaying how sternly he snapped at his campers just a couple of hours ago.

Zach sighs and shakes his head, looking out at the lake.

“They were giving him crap for being shy,” he mumbles. “Calling him mute and mocking him, asking if he even knows how to talk. They didn’t know I was close enough to hear.”

Your forehead crinkles, your heart aching for Oliver all over again.

“Thanks for removing him from all that,” Zach tells you.

“Of course. I wish I could’ve done more,” you say. “He wouldn’t tell me anything, so I let him hug me until he stopped crying.”

“He just needed someone to be there,” Zach says. “And you were.”

You find relief in his words.

“He looked like he was feeling much better when you were by the fire,” you say, hoping to console him.

Zach nods gratefully and looks up at the crescent moon.

“Kids can be harsh,” he tells you. “Sometimes, no matter how hard we try, there’s bullying here. It sucks.”

He breathes out slowly, linking his fingers together. He’s in his head again. In the past. The bitter pain he’s feeling right now is another version of what he felt when he was a kid.

“He needs all the support he can get,” Zach says. “And you’ve been trying to help him since he came here. He’s not even in your group. You didn’t have to do all that, but you did.”

From the tone of his voice, you can tell he’s building up to something. He keeps his gaze fixed ahead, the moon and stars reflecting over the smooth plane of water.

Zach thinks back to the way you approached Oliver at breakfast on the second day of camp. He couldn’t make out your conversation, but he saw the pure kindness in your expression.

“I came here when I was a kid because my parents didn’t know what to do with me,” he admits. “I had no interests. No friends. I was really quiet and really shy.”

You tilt your head, your throat tight. You can’t imagine happy, outgoing Zach being anything but the life of the party like he is now.

“Kids at school would say the same kind of stuff to me that they said to Oliver today,” Zach explains.

He clenches his jaw as he thinks about the way he used to feel on the playground, being berated by other boys and pretending like he didn’t hear them.

“I’m so sorry,” you say quietly.

“I’m such a buzzkill,” he says with a humorless chuckle. “I just - I’m telling you this so you know that when you try to make a kid feel welcome, it makes a difference. Thank you for everything you do for him.”

Zach finally looks at you, nervously scratching the back of his neck.

“My aunt and uncle ran this camp for as long as I can remember. My mom called them the summer I turned eleven, asking if they had space for me here. She just wanted me to find a hobby, you know? Something I liked. Even though I had no interest in sports at all.”

“But you ended up loving it,” you realize, a small smile growing on your face. The night you met, he said something about how he owed this place a lot. Now you know why.

“I did,” he says with a nod. “Don’t get me wrong, a lot of my teachers tried to make me feel better, but it never worked. Here… I belonged. I came out of my shell. People were nice to me. I fell in love with soccer and it’s why I come back every year.”

You don’t have the words to express how touching it is that he decided to share this with you, so you gently grip his forearm, stroking his soft skin with your thumb.

Then, you pull away, because now, the need to keep things strictly friendly is a thousand times heavier.

He doesn’t follow rules simply because of his tenure or because the directors are his family. It’s because of the impact they had, pulling him out of a dark place as a child. He probably feels like he owes them the world. He has a reputation, and a responsibility, to uphold.

“I’m so happy for you that you found this place,” you say. “And you help him, too, okay? A lot. Everything you did just to get him a breakfast he’d like is evidence enough.”

Zach breathes a quiet chuckle, his brows drawing together.

“Thanks, newbie,” he says.

“I’m sure it was really shitty hearing that stuff today,” you empathize. “Especially here. I’m sorry.”

He nods. You get how painful it is for him to see the beauty of this place be sullied. You get how important it is to be there for the kids who are outsiders.

He hates this walk down memory lane. While he doesn’t regret opening up, he needs a break from the tension, to come back to the present.

“You didn’t have to stop,” he says, eyes drifting to his forearm, a hint of playfulness in his tone.

You laugh, putting your palm on Zach’s skin again. He feels like he’s floating. He loves being touched and wants nothing more than to be touched by you.

“I don’t know how professional we’re being right now,” you say with a giggle.

“You kidding?” he says. “This is the definition of professional.”

Zach’s eyes wash over your face, looking at you like he’s in awe. He’s so happy that he met you and so frustrated that it had to be while you both live in the confines of workplace rules.

“In six weeks,” he says, “when the season’s over, what do you think about getting dinner with me?”

“It’s a date,” you say.

Another moment of peaceful quiet settles between you. He parts his lips to say something else, but no words come out.

“What?” you ask.

Zach sighs slowly, shaking his head ever so slightly. He runs his tongue between his lips. His stare drifts to your mouth. He feels completely helpless in the best way.

Slowly, he brings his hand up to your jaw, cradling your cheek so warmly and gently that your breath catches.

“Can I?” His voice is low and raspy, just loud enough to be heard over the crickets.

Even though you promised each other you wouldn’t do this, you couldn’t turn down his kiss if you tried.

“Yes,” you whisper.

His lips are soft and warm, pressing against yours with such sweet tenderness that your body goes numb. You shouldn’t be doing this. You’re afraid you won’t be able to stop.

Zach pulls back, his nose nudging against yours.

“We should stop,” you breathe.

“Yeah,” he says. “We should.”

But you lean in to kiss him again, your lips slowly parting, tongues meeting, tasting each other. You separate.

“This is a bad idea,” you whisper.

“Mhm.”

He kisses you for a third time, your lips smacking together with hunger and impatience. His body is on fire, never having wanted somebody this badly.

“Zach,” you say, finally finding the willpower to sit up, losing all contact with him. “We can’t. It’s too risky.”

“I know,” he mumbles. “I know.”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” Now that you know his history, you care more about him keeping his job than you do your own. “Six weeks. That’s all.”

“Fuck,” he whispers with a dry laugh. “That feels like forever.”

It’s the first time you’ve heard him swear and it’s unexpectedly attractive. You shuffle a few inches away from him, catching your breath, and take in his strong features in the moonlight, wishing you could go back to his cabin or yours and continue this.

“It does,” you agree, your eyes trained on him.

“You have to promise me you won’t look at me like that at work,” Zach says, his tone light. “For real.”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say. “But you know what? I won’t look at you at all. How’s that?”

You stare forward at the gentle ripples in the water, your lips still warm from his kiss.

“That’s worse,” he says with a hint of a whine in his voice.

“There’s no winning with you,” you laugh.

You look over your shoulder, making sure nobody is around to witness you two alone like this.

“You can go if you’re worried,” he says after a moment.

You give him a quick peck on the cheek before you stand. He watches you disappear off the dock, leaving him with a yearning he’s never had to bear before.

When Zach lies in bed that night, replaying how mind-blowing it felt to kiss you, he accepts the fact that the rest of the season will be torture. Six weeks does in fact feel like an eternity.

The summer heat is harsh the next morning, perfect for a day at the lake. Counselors lead their campers to the water after breakfast, not backing down when some kids inevitably argue that they don’t need life jackets.

When you spot Oliver alone, throwing rocks in the water, you imagine Zach at his age, dealing with bullies, feeling lost and alone.

You approach him, exchanging kind hello’s, and an idea strikes you. One of your campers, Jemma, is one of the chattiest and kindest kids you’ve ever met.

“What do you think about going out on the canoe with me and Jemma?” you ask Oliver, pointing to the girl as she rifles through inflated toys. “She’s very nice.”

“Sure,” he says quietly.

When you ask Jemma if she’d like to go with you two, as expected, she happily accepts.

You lead conversation between them as you set out on the canoe, but Jemma soon dives into asking Oliver questions. His answers are short, but it doesn’t faze her, allowing her to ramble to her heart’s delight.

Every so often, you catch a smile on Oliver’s face, clearly happy he’s not expected to talk a lot. Eventually, his answers to her questions get longer, and he starts asking her things, too.

When you dock the boat about ten minutes later, you look up to see Zach leaning forward, holding the brim of the canoe against the dock, meeting your eyes.

“Why are you stealing my friend?” Zach asks you, nodding to Oliver.

“He’s my friend, too,” you reply, looking at the boy. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he says with a smile.

“Mine, too!” Jemma exclaims. Your heart warms when you see Oliver blush.

Once Zach helps the kids out of the boat, they run off together in their matching bright-orange life jackets.

“How’d you do that?” Zach says.

You smile, taking his hand as he helps you step up onto the dock. Just last night, you were kissing right where you’re standing. You quickly pull your hand back so nobody suspects anything.

“It was a long shot,” you tell him, “but it seems it worked.”

Zach smirks, feeling his chest tighten as he stares at you. Staying away from you is ridiculously hard.

“You think anybody would notice if I kissed you right now?” he asks quietly, heavy-lidded eyes travelling over your face.

You laugh and look around at the crowds of campers and counselors surrounding the lake.

“Think so,” you reply. “You can kiss me in six weeks.”

“Six weeks,” he echoes with a sigh.

Tom fires up the grill outside the dining hall as counselors help set up for a lunch picnic. Zach’s close by, bumping against you as he puts out stacks of paper plates. He keeps his eyes low, but you can tell by his dimpled smirk that he’s touching you on purpose.

As you pass by a table to move the cooler, a few kids playing tag dart by you, tripping you up and causing you to lose your balance.

You involuntarily yelp when you feel a sharp sting on your arm, realizing you just made direct contact with the scalding barbecue hood.

“Come on, guys!” Zach calls tersley. “Look where you’re going!”

You look down at the underside of your forearm, blowing on the burn.

“You alright?” Tom asks.

“Yeah,” you say. “I’ll go run it under some cold water.”

Zach wishes he could follow, but it’d be too obvious.

You reassure your coworkers that you’re okay when you come back, loud enough to make sure Zach hears you. You’re still flattered by his protective reaction.

After lunch, the kids go back to their day of fun, most of them swimming. Dinner is quieter than usual, likely because the campers are so tired out.

Once lights out hits, you’ve never been happier to be done with the day. You enter your cabin, which is dark and quiet because Ami has already settled across the campground for her overnight shift.

You sigh in relief once you’re in the shower, washing away the sweat and grime of the day, planning to do nothing but rest tonight. The burn on your arm stings under the water, so you do your best to keep it dry.

You’re lounging in bed in your empty cabin, still in your towel, when you hear a knock at the door.

You open it to see Zach standing there, his hair wet, his college t-shirt draped over his wide shoulders as he holds out something in his hand.

“Just thought I’d…” Zach’s eyes travel down your body. He’s never seen this much of your skin, the towel offering a view of your cleavage and your bare legs. “Uh…”

“Yeah?” you laugh.

“This,” he says. He holds out a small tube of cooling gel. “For your burn. It was in the kitchen’s first aid kit.”

“Thank you,” you say, taking the tube. “That’s sweet of you. It still hurts a little.”

You look down at your forearm as Zach rests a hand on the doorframe, leaning over as he stares at you. You feel warm from the way he towers over you, gazing at you in pure desperation.

You shouldn’t invite him in. It’s a risk. There would be no going back. But the way he looks so hungry for you, the way he smells like fresh laundry and strong body wash is so painfully enticing.

His heartbeat is loud in his ears. He’s still processing a lot. How good your lips felt against his last night. How angry he was when you got hurt earlier today. And now, how very close to being completely naked you are. This is absolutely impossible.

He’s looked at you this way before, but this is a new level of intensity, making your skin prick with excitement. The thoughts of what could happen if he came in rush through your mind.

“Why do I feel like we won’t make it to six weeks?” you say meekly.

“We gave it a solid effort,” he says.

“It’s been one day,” you laugh.

“And do you have idea how hard that day’s been for me?” Zach says, making you laugh again. “We’ll just do a really good job keeping it a secret. If you want to.”

You smile again. But, you can’t do it.

“We shouldn’t,” you force yourself to say.

He nods, trying to hide how sad he is.

“Right. Yeah,” Zach says as he steps back. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you reply. “I just… I would hate it if you got fired because of me.”

“If I got fired, it’d be my fault. Not yours.” His lips curl in nervousness before he says his next words. “And you’re worth the risk.”

Your eyes are hard on each other, both of you fully aware that you’re close to teetering into dangerous territory.

Finally, you say the words that he’s been aching to hear.

“You want to keep it a secret?” you say.

“Yeah. Do you?”

You nod, your eyes wide.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

You glance past him into the dark to make sure nobody else is witnessing the second you officially lose all of your willpower.

“Come in,” you say.

(part four)

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#and i sincerely apologize for ending it there #zach maclaren and reader #zach maclaren and you #zach maclaren and y/n #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren x you #zach maclaren x reader

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