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#T Homes by T&T Group
ozcarr · 6 months
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I remember back when I worked at [shoe store], we got a new hire who had seen my full name on the schedule, identified me as Jewish, and tracked me down. After confirming, the first thing she asked me is if I'd been to Israel on a "birthright" trip (this was 8 years ago, we were both 18 at the time).
I kind of laughed it off and told her, no, I hadn't -- I had no family in Israel, my mom's friend group in collage was primarily Palestinian, and my parents had always taken an objectively anti-isreal stance and didn't sugarcoat things. I remember my parents refused to buy Israeli-made gelt for Hanukkah and always had to painstakingly track down chocolate coins from other countries, which was kind of difficult in the early 2000s before Hanukkah had become commercialized the way it is now.
But I didn't really realize until that moment that because my parents had known better, they'd been able to shield me from all the weird Zionist indoctrination and propaganda and the same was not true of all my peers. Even ones like this girl, who I would find out later loved to posture herself as a radical leftist. You know. Despite the Zionism.
Anyway this girl hounded me for weeks about it -- "it's your birthright, it's free, why wouldn't you want a free vacation?"
I've been thinking about her a lot lately. And the American settlers who want to turn Gaza into their beach front property. And how these people are willing to murder for their little vacations and beachfront homes. Like it's nothing to them.
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I REALLY want to see Kiaus and Hunter become best friends, just because they're kind of complete opposites of each other. Like idk obviously they're off to a rocky start but I think they'd be thick and thin if they find some common ground to relate over. Plus the dynamic would be the stuff of gold
-⌚anon
enemies/rivals to friends is such a good trope and I love it. I also love opposites in a dynamic hehe
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unopenablebox · 1 year
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for some reason i keep thinking of tomorrow as being miserably packed with stuff even though what i have scheduled is actually "morning union meeting, scheduled for two hours and will run to three as always"—which is, admittedly, wretched— followed by a break of two hours and then
"two hour sewing class i signed up for myself, want to take, is only a ten minute walk from my home, and requires no prep whatsoever"
however this is the first time in many months that any post-union-meeting scheduled saturday afternoon activity has been anything other than work and i think i'm unable to actually believe that having literally anything planned on a saturday is not foreshadowing a long slog to work interspersed with guilt
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gaymer-hag-stan · 1 year
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youtube
youtube
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ajjconcertat2am · 1 year
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still upset about the couple in my main friend group ghosting and blocking us all because we (the rest of us queer) call ourselves faggots
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nomairuins · 24 days
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my tags on that went on for so long i had to go back and edit them to fit tag limit and i still had to delete a bunch of them. Its the autism it literally is
#funerary practices and the afterlife and body disposal methods and just. grief and mourning in general r like. My bigggg autism thing i dont#talk abt it a lot bc 1 i just Dont shut up once i get going 2 a lot of ppl dont want to hear abt stuff like that which is fine. kicked pupp#expression. i just find it very very interesting to see how different ppl grieve and whats considered like. Right and wrong when it comes t#care of the body yk. bc like. most/every culture has their practices and anything outside of that feels wrong to them bc its like. yk its s#pivotal idr the exact anecdote/story but caitlin doughty mentioned it in one of her books where like. there were 2 groups and one cremated#their dead and the other practiced mortuary cannibalism and both viewed the other as barbaric and it rly shaped how i view it like. yk. its#rly something so personal where even when the way someone grieves makes you uncomfortable its like. you cant force someone to grieve in a#way thats palatable to you. yk. for a rly long time washing the body and being with the body after death was a rly important part of grief#in like. usamerican culture its only more recently that it became wayyy less common w the rise of funeral homes and stuff. and obv for many#ppl that wouldnt be comforting but i think it could be for a lot of ppl..#my personal belief on it is everyone should be allowed to grieve and dispose of the dead As they want and that should be like. yk. theres#the nebulous term of Desecration which is legally rly difficult to define there r a lot of states where the law is 'if it would outrage#normal family values' which is just so fucking stupid obviously like. whos family. bc every single person has a different view on whats#appropriate yk... IDK. i think as long as its relatively safe for the living and as long as its not like. Against the wishes of the decease#like. if someone says they want a burial and then theyre cremated (not out of necessity like 4 financial stuff) im like. yk. obv theyre dea#but i think its important to honor their last wishes... yk. and that should go for like. If someone wants an open pyre cremation that shoul#be available... if someone wants aquamation etc. IDK. etc. like. another thing is with embalming while i wish it werent De Facto ppl r#railroaded into it i entirely disagree w ppl who say it should be wiped out entirely like. there r environmental ramifications 4 sure and i#love for that to be more like. talked abt... but embalming is rly important to a lot of ppl and idt its right to shit all over that. idt it#necessary for every death i personally dont see the point of embalming for like. a peaceful death with a quick funeral and theyre getting#cremated after. but ik like. for a lot of black families embalming is very important for like. a reclamation esp in violent or traumatic#deaths its very important to have like. a funeral with a viewing. and i think thats something that shouldnt be taken away from anyone ever.#even like. ik this is controversial but extreme embalming w/ posing and stuff as long as thats what the decease wanted like. i think its#awesome !! i Dont agree w taking the corpses of the poor or disenfranchised to prop up for art pieces Personally but like. there r ppl who#want to be displayed like that like. riding their motorcycle one last time or ummm. that posthumous concert that happened. i get how it can#seem morbid or wtvr but like. the families r happy with that its what those ppl wanted and it like. its a celebration of their life and#their interests and i think thats super important. BASICALLY.#ok tag limits coming so im cutting myself off for sure this time. but wtvr. i hope this makes sense to anybody else sorry i rambled. im ver#passionate abt it KJBADKJBDKJ
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fried-pistachio · 3 months
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I’m so happy, I’m moving to a new group home in a few days and I’m leaving this horrible one.
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astfut · 1 year
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openlynews || meduza
upd: putin signs russia law banning trans healthcare and adoptions, and annulling marriages. PinkNews || The New York Times || Meduza
upd (July 27, 2023): Center-T and Coming Out LGBTQ+ Group have launched a petition for simplification of asylum procedures in EU for transgender people from Russia. ➡ Please sign and share. ⚠ upd (November 23, 2023): Petition calling for easier access to refugee status for trans* people from russia in Germany created by the activist team "Quarteera" The petition can be signed without being a German citizen. ➡ post // ➡ petition
Please if you have the means consider donating to the following:
➡ Queer Svit - https://queersvit.taplink.ws/
➡ North Caucasus SOS - https://ncsos.io/
➡ Center-T - https://centre-t.com/english
➡ KilkoT-Action (КилькоТ-Действие) - https://boosty.to/kilkota
➡ Delo LGBT+ - https://www.delo.lgbt/ || https://boosty.to/delolgbt
➡ Sphere Foundation - https://spherequeer.org/en/
➡ Coming Out LGBTQ+ Group - https://comingoutspb.org/en/home/
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filmstarved · 28 days
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i can fix him and fuck him.
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18+ [logan x female!reader]
nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.
word count: 5,737
logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).
logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.
you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.
deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.
“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.
“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.
“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)
but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.
although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.
tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.
your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 
“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“
“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”
those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.
“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.
“it’s too hard being here.”
with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”
he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.
you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.
but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.
he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).
you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.
“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”
he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.
“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.
“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”
“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.
his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.
“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”
“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 
his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 
“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.
“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.
he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 
he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”
he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 
your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.
a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.
that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.
there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.
“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.
he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.
logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.
as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.
“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 
he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.
logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.
kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck
he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 
he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.
“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.
his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.
“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.
you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.
“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.
like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 
logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.
your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.
he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.
“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.
“lo…logan, i’m-“
“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.
logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.
“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.
“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.
he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.
just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.
“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.
“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”
you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.
“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.
“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.
“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 
“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 
logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 
“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”
he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.
“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.
“lay down,” he said.
“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.
“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”
“are you—“
“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.
before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.
“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”
“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”
with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.
“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.
“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 
he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.
“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.
“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.
“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.
“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 
logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 
as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.
he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 
“you’re my good girl, huh?”
‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.
“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”
“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”
“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 
your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 
his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.
“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.
he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 
“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.
“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 
“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 
SNIKT!!
you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.
a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 
“…i love you, logan.”
“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.
you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 
ease and silence…and love.
3K notes · View notes
lokissweater · 2 months
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“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩
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{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}
summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.
warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.
word count: 8.7k
authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.
————————————————————————
yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.
you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.
eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.
but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.
but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.
“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”
yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.
from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.
luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.
you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).
yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.
“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”
yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“
“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”
“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”
but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.
yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.
firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.
it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.
but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.
but he couldn’t have you.
yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.
he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.
but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.
yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.
at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.
heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.
“yuta?”
his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.
“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.
“i was-”
“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”
“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”
he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.
“why aren’t you in tutoring?”
“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”
you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”
he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”
“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”
oh how he loved when you called him that.
his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”
you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.
after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.
“why are your eyes red?”
you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.
“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.
yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.
his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.
he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”
your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.
yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.
he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”
you shook your head against his chest.
“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.
“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.
he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.
yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.
“i know.”
your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”
yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”
you sniffed.
“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.
your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”
you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”
loved?
yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.
“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”
his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”
you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.
“why? what did he say?”
“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”
yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”
you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.
“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”
he stayed silent.
“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”
another sibling?
yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.
how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?
yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.
“is that how you see me?”
“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.
“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”
you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.
but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”
for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.
a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.
but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.
so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”
yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.
but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.
but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.
when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.
but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.
and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.
yuta never cried.
when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”
“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.
you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”
yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?
as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”
you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”
yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.
after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.
and to that, yuta was happy.
and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.
he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.
you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.
he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.
but neither of you seemed to care.
“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.
you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.
“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.
“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”
he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”
yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.
once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”
yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”
you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”
“which is..?”
“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”
yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…
no.
he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.
“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.
“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”
his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.
“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.
he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.
yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.
but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”
you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”
he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.
you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”
you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.
yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.
with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.
“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.
his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”
you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.
“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”
yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.
he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.
your trust.
you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.
“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.
“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”
you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”
he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”
you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.
your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.
as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.
“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”
“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”
you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.
“only if the house comes with you.”
yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…
no.
“what… you want me as a roommate?”
you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.
yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.
it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.
your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.
every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.
he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.
yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.
“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”
he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.
“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”
and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.
his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.
but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.
best friends don’t do things like this.
and he did not give a single fuck.
your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.
the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.
“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.
yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.
“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”
and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.
and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.
“you studying?” he asked.
yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.
his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”
that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”
“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”
yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”
“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”
yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”
“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”
“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”
his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”
“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”
his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.
“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”
yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”
his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”
yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”
his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”
“fuck no.”
“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”
“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”
“that’s not true—”
“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”
his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.
“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”
“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”
“whatever man it was high school—”
“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”
“i’m leaving.”
and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.
and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.
yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.
with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.
the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.
his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.
slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”
you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”
but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.
“what’s wrong?”
“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.
“…you mentioned that yeah—”
“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”
your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”
“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”
yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.
“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”
his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”
you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”
“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”
you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”
yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”
“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”
you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.
“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.
“yeah?”
“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.
you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”
you scoffed, “my little love?!”
and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.
and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.
“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”
“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”
“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”
“i—”
“is this how low you think of me?”
“no baby i don’t—”
“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”
“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”
“then why—”
yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”
he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.
“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”
“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.
he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.
yuta never cried.
“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”
he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.
“yu…”
“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”
he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”
“yuta, can you please look at me?”
“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”
you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”
he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”
“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“
your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”
you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.
“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”
he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”
“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.
“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”
“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”
you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.
“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”
yuta slightly smiled.
“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”
he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.
“who told you i didn’t love you back?”
yuta froze. “you did?”
“when?”
“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”
you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”
you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.
you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”
“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.
“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”
yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.
“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”
you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”
silence. nothing.
and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.
half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.
you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”
“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”
you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”
and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.
“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”
“please.”
and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.
“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.
he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”
and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.
things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.
sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.
you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”
yuta nodded, “there is baby.”
“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”
“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”
you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”
yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”
he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”
you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”
yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.
“because he brought you to me.”
and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—
“i love you and i love you, yuta.”
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fingertipsmp3 · 1 year
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That school assembly post is bringing back so many buried memories lol
#tbh i don’t really remember any dumb assemblies apart from all the weird firework psas. although i’m sure there were some#there was this one time in junior school i guess they ran out of ideas and just got a random man and his cat puppet to do a bad comedy#routine for an hour. but that was fine#my favourite assembly was probably this drink driving psa. this acting troupe came in and acted out a whole play about drink driving#there were these friends who went out drinking and one of the drunk ones tried to drive home; crashed the car and killed her sister#the acting was fucking INSANELY good. i still get chills when i think about the way she screamed when the paramedic said her sister was dead#there was also this motivational speaker who came in once and he was incredible#i remember really liking the drug psa assembly as well lol. i lived in a rural area and i’d never encountered drugs#so it was really interesting. also for whatever reason they didn’t supervise us at all as we came in the doors so i got to sit next#to one of my best friends (who i was never normally able to sit with because we weren’t in the same class for anything)#and we were whispering and giggling the whole time#there was also this one assembly… in hindsight this should’ve gone in the dumb category#one of the deputy heads (who was probably the campest straight man i’ve ever seen. just to give you an idea of how thoroughly disrespected#this man was by the entire student body) sat our whole year group down and tried to get the person who’d been stealing coats#and reselling them to confess. he failed miserably because he was not in any way an intimidating or imposing figure#so then he just got angrier and angrier and started railing on us about how bad our whole year group was#how someone had got suspended for ‘collecting for charity’ and then spending all the money he got (which.. yeah is definitely fucked up)#and how someone had been stealing phones and that our punishment was that we wouldn’t be getting to participate in sports day that year#and then everyone cheered because everyone HATED sports day. my man didn’t know what to do#then at the end one of the d&t teachers was like ‘may i speak? just a quick one… [local college] has some apprenticeships available#in construction if anyone’s interested. just raise your hand and i’ll talk to you afterwards. thank you’ and then the assembly ended#that was a wild fucking afternoon#personal#*eta i just remembered this but i need you all to know that the deputy head’s nickname by everyone INCLUDING STAFF was literally ‘mr mess’#MR MESS. and he thought he could intimidate any of us into confessing or turning in the coat stealer#there was exactly one teacher who could’ve intimidated me into snitching on said coat stealer (who was my friend’s cousin lol)#and that was the last teacher any of the teachers would’ve expected. my art teacher. he could be the nicest guy ever but also he was soooo#bitter about not having made it as an artist himself that he could lash out in a second and make you cry#usually if you were a bad artist. (he made me cry a lot)
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a-b-riddle · 5 months
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Part Three
Warning: If you don't like Taylor Swift, you're not gonna like this chapter that much, homie. But So Long, London is so fitting for this drabble series. (I guess a series since it's longer than a drabble at this point)
Can’t stop thinking about reader just trying to move on
You had to remind yourself several times not to check in with the guys. It had almost become second nature doing something big like this. But going to another country…
Not that they would care. You told yourself. It was for the best that way.
The expo went better than you expected. You didn’t believe that there would be a line out the door of eager readers wanting to read your book, but you got a decent amount. More than a few told you they couldn’t wait to read it. Several asking for photos and asking questions on any future books, a spin-off or even continuing the series.
When one a particular large group of girls your age asked for a group photo, you could have cried. They were had found each other in an online book club. You had given them your book several months ago. All copies signed with a note thanking them for taking the time to read what you had poured your heart into.
You had spent a large chunk of your free time talking to them. Bonding more so as women than over your book.
"Have you listened to Taylor's new album?"
It had only been out for two days and you had been able to avoid it like the plague. You didn't need to even listen to 'So Long, London' to know it would fucking gut you. So you would enjoy your time in the states. Save the listening experience for when you were packing up their stuff.
They had posted and tagged you before continuing on with the rest of the expo. You had reposted the photo to your own social media. Or at least one attached to the pen name you had crafted. You only had twelve thousand instagram followers, but it was something.
The first day was much like the second. You had attended several Q & A sessions with a panel of more experienced authors and managed to go to a few meet and greets. Before you knew it, it was time to pack up shop.
The agent the publishing house had assigned to you had stuck with you for most of the day. You were able to pick her brain a bit about new ideas for possible future plot lines and her thoughts. Overall, the trip was great.
Not only were you able to make great connections and take a lot back home with you to reference, but for a few days you forgot what waited for you back home. Or rather what wasn't waiting for you.
By the time your plane landed back in London you could barely hold yourself up. You left the expo, went straight to the hotel to shower, pack and head to the airport.
Your flight was delayed. Your luggage was taking forever to get onto the belt. It was only seven, but fuck if you weren’t ready to just call it a day. Tomorrow you would have to start again. Opening up the shop. Coming back to an empty flat. Maybe start gathering up the items the boys had left behind.
Should you give them in separate boxes or just one giant one and let them sort it out themselves? It was easy to discern whose sweatshirt and t-shirts belonged to who, but when it got to things like socks and chargers...
Yeah.
They could sort it themselves.
You could drop it off at Kyle's when you knew he would be at the gym. He was good at avoiding you anyway.
It wasn't until you stood in your apartment did it hit you.
You were alone.
For the first time in over a year you couldn't call one of them over to soothe that ache of loneliness.
For the first time in over a year, you had to relearn how to handle just being alone.
You usually showered at night. Washing away the grime of the day before settling into bed. But today was a new chapter. You woke up wanting to start it on a good note. Plus you went straight to bed after getting home so you still had a bit of airport funk on you.
It had been a week. One official since you had sent that text nailing the coffin shut. You had touched base with your friends who didn't bat an eye at you dating four men at once. They liked them, even if Simon scared them. You didn't give them the details of the breakup or the cause. You were pretty private in your problems and if you wanted relationship advice, you would seek an unbiased unopinion.
You had a good group of friends, but the moment you told them that you were well and truly heartbroken, they would insist the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. Something you were nowhere near ready for.
So you needed to look like you had your shit together. You put on a dress that was feminine and, most importantly, comfy as fuck. An A-line floral frock paired with a light sweater and some white trainers. You knew a few of your friends would be stopping by for tea so you need to look like you were taking the separation well. Even if you were barely holding it together.
With makeup and perfume on, you started the early morning stroll to your shop.
You loved openings. Starting up the register and selecting the playlist for today. Picking out the essential oil to put in the diffuser even though you mostly stuck with a lavender and vanilla blend during the spring months.
For the morning you stuck with a Taylor Swift Instrumental playlist you had found initially for studying, but you liked the peaceful feeling it brought. Even when it covered the most gut wrenching songs.
You had started to collect the online orders that had accumulated over the last week. Sending out the e-mails alerting to your patrons that their orders were ready for pick up. Luckily you weren't set to receive a delivery until tomorrow.
It was eight and everything was set. Although not many people came to a bookstore at eight in the morning, it really didn't bother you opening up that early considering you were the only employee that was on the payroll. It gave you the possibility of making money, but mostly you spent the morning reading or writing.
You flipped the sign over from CLOSED to OPEN. Ready to start take on the day.
You had turned the kettle on in the back room when your friends had stopped by around lunch. You always said it was just tea, but you always had an array of snacks on standby for you all to munch on.
Meredith was complaining about what a dick the new client at the law firm was being. An absolute slime who had been married to his wife for almost twenty-five years before he decided to fuck his twenty-two year old assistant.
Tabitha didn't want to talk about work. To her, her career in tech was just a paycheck. She did what she needed to do and left when she was done.
You talked about the expo and how your book. Although neither of them really read, they had promised that they would read your book. You didn't hold your breath. They had reposted your posts as well as making ones of their owns in celebration of you. Words of praise about your dedication and hard work.
You realized that even though they couldn't give you the support you needed as readers, they supported you blindly. You could have written absolute garbage, but they would still support you.
You talked about how many people liked your book and wanted pictures and to sign their copies.
Then came the question you had been rehearsing since you had texted them a week ago. They both shared a look before Meredith finally asked.
"How are you holding up?" You gave a half-smile and a shrug. So perfectly rehearsed in your head you were ready to deliver your lies lines.
"I'm fine," you lied. "It was just fading so there isn't much of a difference, I guess." Not necessarily a lie. "We just wanted different things and were on different paths in life." Not a lie. "It's for the best." You weren't sure if that last one was a lie or not just yet.
They both shared a passing look before returning their gazes back to you. "You know you can come to us about this stuff." Tabitha's hand reached across the table, placing a hand on top of yours.
"It wasn't going to work out." You added. "Situations like that don't and I should have known better."
"A situation?" Meredith asked. "When have you ever called it a situation?"
"It always was one."
"I love you enough to call bullshit." She raised her eyebrow at you, crossing her arms over her chest. "You loved them and you need to stop pretending this is easy."
"You're a divorce lawyer, Mere," You reminded. "You see marriages fall apart every day."
"I do. I get to see from across the table how a woman is still willing to take her cheating arse of a husband back. So the fact that you went from on cloud nine with all of them to not even talking about the break up is concerning to say the least."
"Tabitha," you looked at your only ally left. "A little back up would be nice."
"I'm with her on this one." She confirmed. "You loved them. Not that I cared, but if you weren't talking about books or the shop, you were talking about them. What you did, where you went. How they fucked you."
"I think I'll miss that part the most." Mere sighed. "I lived vicariously through you."
"You know you could actually date people." Tabitha suggested.
"I'd rather live with chronic carpal tunnel than a man." You almost choked on your tea. If you were wearing pearls you would have used the comedic relief of clutching them to break the awkwardness of the current topic of conversation.
"That should be put on a t-shirt." You suggested
"I wouldn't mind it on a welcome mat to be honest." Tabitha added.
"But in all seriousness, cut this bullshit." Meredith gave you an sympathetic smile. "We're here. Good, bad and ugly."
You returned her smile. "I know."
You had closed up shop for the evening. Your lunch had gone longer than expected so now you were left doing the dishes and clean up during closing. You were setting the last cup on the drying rack when you heard the front door chime.
Shit.
You must have forgotten to lock the door when you turned the sign.
“I’m sorry!” You apologized, making your way out of the back break area and to the front of the store. “We’re-”
“Closed.” He said, locking the door behind him. “I saw the sign.”
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shellshocklove · 3 months
Text
brat! | joel miller
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pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak
summary: joel is having a brat summer.
warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes, reader wears a dress, heels and lipstick but otherwise no other descriptions, use of pet names, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, manhandling, a little exhibitionism? fingering, choking, spitting, a little dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), cock worship, spanking, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), creampie, one use of the word ‘daddy’, no use of y/n
a/n: this was fun! and naughtier than i thought it was gonna be 💀 i’ve never written a reader so far removed from my own personality lol and i’m kind of obsessed with how this turned out. anyways stream brat by charlie xcx and happy reading! <3
main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3
from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.
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Blitzes of red, green, and blue danced before your eyes. The beating in your temples in tune with the bass vibrating in your chest. Around you the faceless bodies moved in slow motion. The heat rose around you as the sweat clung to your skin.
You’re sure you’ve lost your friends. Well, not lost lost. They were in the dancing crowd somewhere. Behind you, the same ugly guy had been rubbing up against you for a minute too long. You knew because you’d tipped your head back once and his borderline bowl cut hair, polo shirt with deep sweat rings under his arms, and tan chinos, were not it.
His breath stank of tequila when he leaned into your ear, “Hey,” he slurred, “wanna get out of here?”
And that had been your cue to leave.
With a scoff, you turned around to get a good look at him. You’d sized him up, made a show of it, and laughed in his face. Then you pushed your way through the crowd, coming up for air by the bar.
The earlier buzz you’d been sailing on, had weaned off a long time ago. It had been last minute, you weren’t even going out tonight, just having dinner with your childhood friends while you were home for the summer. But then one of them had ordered shots for the table just as the last plate had been cleared, and soon you were at the club cruising on a couple of glasses of wine and a lousy shot. Not that it mattered, usually you ended up twirling some sorry man around your finger long enough to get yourself a couple of rounds, before you’d excuse yourself to the ladies’ room and leave with your friends.
Looking down the bar, you searched for tonight’s victim.
To your right a group of girls huddled around the edge, waiting for their own drinks by the looks of it.
Not them.
Down to your left, a boy with a face full of acne fumbled with his card as he paid for a round of beers. He didn’t even look old enough to be in here, but that wasn’t your problem. You had to hold back a laugh as you watched him struggle to figure out how to carry the five beers he’d ordered back to his friends. He ended up gathering them in a circle to wrap his hands around, and you’d seen this go wrong plenty of times to feel the pull of an amused smile on your lips.
When he’d vanished into the crowd, your eyes flicked back to the bar, to the man sitting there– and he was a man. Probably somewhere in his fifties you reckoned, but he looked gorgeous. A real dilf. Your interest was piqued.
You slid down the bar.
He didn’t look particularly amused where he sat at a bar stool, nursing a beer in his hands. Who sits at the bar in the club? He looked nice. Brown hair, dark jeans, and a grey t-shirt stretched deliciously over his chest. When you got closer you could see a flannel resting beside him on the bar.
Is this what older men wear to the club these days?
He didn’t seem to notice you as you sat down next to him – either that, or he ignored you. You kinda wished for the latter, it would make it more fun.
You gave him a few more minutes of silence, of your presence, to see if he’d say something to you. When he didn’t you asked him over the music, “Aren’t you gonna buy me a drink?”
You said it innocently, but like it was obvious and he hadn’t caught on yet. His head turned towards you, still unamused, but with his eyebrow raised.
Okay, you could work with that.
You didn’t say anything as he studied you, drank you in like you’d done to him from afar. You felt his gaze over your clinging dress, your bare shoulders, before they found your eyes.
Something tickled in your core, and you were reminded of how long it had been since you’d been properly fucked– fucked by someone who wasn’t some drunk guy at your college’s parties, but fucked by someone who knew what they were doing.
The man turned towards you; a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.
“Does that usually work f’you, sweetheart?”
You weren’t expecting his rebuttal, but you liked it. He wasn’t some boy who’d trip over himself for the privilege of being in the presence of you. The boys – they made it too easy – but this man would make you work for it.
Putting on your most saccharine smile you slid closer to him, “You looked so lonely over here– thought I’d keep you company.”
A scoffing laugh escaped him, and his head dipped, “’s that so?” His eyes found yours again.
“Haven’t seen you here before,” you ignored his question, and brushed your heeled foot up the length of his calf.
“Ain’t ever been here before,” he kept his eyes on your face, his drawl pulling at the words and twisting up your insides.
“So, a virgin, huh?” you teased, and that seemed to amuse him.
“What– you’re here to pop my cherry?”
This time an amused smile pulled at your face. You liked this man. “Not without a drink first,” your foot slid down his calf, “what do you take me for?”
A bright sense of pride filled your chest when you made him laugh, filling you up with confidence.
“D’you want me to answer that?” he rebutted.
He didn’t say it with any malice, it was teasing and playful, and it pulled at the veil inside you. A genuine smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, “Probably not.”
“What can I getcha, then, sweetheart?”
“G&T?” you said, and bit down on your bottom lip coquettishly.
Turning away from you, the man got the attention of the bartender. You watched his profile, followed the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose. You decided then and there that your night was gonna end in this man’s bed.
“Sooo,” you sang, when you’d gotten your drink, “first time here, huh?” The man just nodded, before he sipped his beer.  
Not much of a talker, huh?
“You here alone, or? With the wife maybe?”
That pulled a laugh from him. “I’m here with my lil’ brother… bachelor party,” he shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten dragged in here, “he’s gettin’ married next month.”
“Ah,” you nodded and took a sip of your drink. “So, where are you heading next? A strip club?” you teased.
The man just shot you an unimpressed look, and you thought about how you’d never seen a man look so out of place, ever.
“What? The wife won’t let you?”
A sharp huff escaped him, “Ain’t got no wife no more,” he said matter-of-factly.
You took another sip of your drink to hide the smile from forming.
Bingo.
“I take it you’re a man who does what he wants, then?” you said it innocently, and subtly slid your hand over his knee. His eyes caught yours at the touch, and you swore you saw something change in them.
You’d hooked him now, all you had to do was reel him in.
He turned his body towards you – he did it slowly, like every muscle he moved had been calculated beforehand. Then he leaned in closer, his hot breath huffing against your ear.
“Takes one to know one, ain’t that right?”
Under your skin, you buzzed, your heart beating out of your chest at the new proximity. You had to stay cool, play it off, act unbothered. So, you pulled away slightly, and turned your head to meet his eyes.
“What?” he challenged with a raise of an eyebrow, “Ain’t used to people talkin’ back?”
When you didn’t say anything right away, a smug grin coated his lips, “Yeah, I know girls like you.”
“There’s no girls like me,” you argued back, his confidence both pissing you off, and turning you on at the same time.
“Oh, but there are– Spoiled daddy’s girls who ain’t had anyone tellin’ them no their whole life. They do what they want, and play with who they want– I know a brat when I see one.”
Your eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away, that infuriating smug grin not going anywhere. The worst part was that he was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.
“But you like that don’t you?” you challenged, “I bet you live in some sad house in a sleepy suburban cul-de-sac, go to the same boring job every day, and wish your wife never left you.”
A flash of hurt could be seen across his face as those last words left your lips, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far. A beat of silence passed between you, the buzzing beat of the club music keeping the tune of the tension building.
You were about to apologize when he finally spoke, “You’re a rude one, aren’t ya?”
His voice didn’t sound as hurt as you’d thought, and you realize he was playing your game. You almost had him.
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, hammering the final nail in the coffin.
“That depends on you, sweetheart.”
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Outside the club, Joel (the man had finally introduced himself) leaned against the bricks of the alley as you fished a cigarette from your purse. According to your phone, your uber would be there in ten minutes. The fresh air had sobered you up slightly, exchanging the buzzing alcohol in your veins with excitement.
You didn’t know what you were in for.
Over your skin, you felt his gaze roll over you, and you let him look. Let him study your body filling out your sheer, white, almost see-through dress. You didn’t offer him a cigarette; he’d have to ask for it himself, or take it, if he wanted a drag.
“So,” you took a drag of your cigarette, savoring the first tar-y breath, before exhaling through your nose, “where are you taking me?”
Joel shifted his weight against the bricks as his arms crossed over his wide chest. “Whatchu call it? My sad house?” he said, his voice bordering on cold if it wasn’t for the smug smile covering his features.
You gave him a sultry look as you stepped closer, crossing one heeled foot in front of the other, slowly.
“Mmm,” you hummed, as you tilted your head with an uninterested face, “Sounds fucking boring to me.” Your finger climbed up his chest, eyes traveling from his chest to his face. His stern face gave nothing away, as you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke in his face.
Finally, he’d had enough. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, and tightened, before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. You let out an exaggerated huff as your body hit the bricks, your cigarette slipping from your fingers. He pushed himself up against you, and you couldn’t contain the satisfied grin on your face, pleased to have pushed his buttons enough to finally act.
“Oh, I’ll show you boring, brat.”
A rough hand danced up the side of your thigh and under the hem of your dress. Challenging him, you squirmed against the grip of his other hand around your wrist.
“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, and he was so close now you felt his breath ghost over your lips. With a twist of your arm, he pinned it behind your back, Joel now completely in control, and a buzz of arousal spread through your body at the thought.
“You listen’ up now, and I’m only gonna say it once: you’re gonna do as I say, when I say it, and no talkin’ back, we clear?” His voice was stern, but his dark brown eyes gave him away; how they’d widened with lust, blown out and dark. Your panties already soaked at the thought of what he had in mind for you tonight.
“Yes,” you said playfully, biting down at your bottom lip through a smile.
“Yes, sir,” he corrected as his rough hand on your thigh slid closer and closer to the seam of your thong. “Good girls who do as they’re told get rewarded, you understand?”
You nodded, sucking in a breath as you felt his fingers brush over your clit lightly. He was testing you now, teasing you, and pushing your buttons. You felt like you were on fire, burning from arousal; it licked up your thighs and flickered bright in your core.
Where was that fucking uber?
“But you ain’t no good girl,” he snickered, sliding his hand past your panties, “teasin’ me– tryna provoke me,” he shook his head, and a slick sound of your arousal could be heard as he worked two thick fingers through your wet folds.  
His finger poked at your hole where it ached for him. The thick tension between you weighed heavy with arousal as Joel leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Imma have to punish you for that, baby, put you in your place.”
A gasp left your lips as he pressed two fingers inside. The stretch stung slightly, but you welcomed the pain, liked it. A satisfied grin blossomed over your face as he started moving his fingers. They felt so good inside of you, so thick, almost like a cock, and the way his palm rubbed against your clit– it gave you just enough stimulation to push you towards the edge of an orgasm.
“Look at you, slut,” his breath was hot as he whispered in your ear, “so desperate to get fucked.”
A strangled moan escaped your throat, and you couldn’t help but grind against his fingers to chase the pleasure he was giving you. The degrading words and humiliation only made you wetter. Joel couldn’t get any more perfect– so far, he'd played his part to the T.
“In your– fuck!” You moaned as the pad of his fingers brushed up against your g-spot. Just a little more now, and he’d have you coming on his fingers.
“Didn’t hear you, sweetheart, y’need to speak up,” he taunted, continuing the pace of his fingers.
“In your d-dreams, old man,” you tried to spit out, but the pleasure he gave you was taking over, making you stumble over your words.
Quickly, Joel withdrew his fingers, sliding them up the front of your cunt, giving your clit a slap, before he backed off completely. You gasped; face pulled tight in a disappointed frown.
“What the fuck!?”
And then he fucking laughed, fucking laughed at you.
“I already told you, sweetheart, only good girls get rewarded.”
He stepped closer again, his hand cupping your cheek while the other pressed the fingers coated in your arousal to your lips. “Clean up your mess, and we’ll see ‘bout that reward.”
Parting your lips, he stuffed his fingers inside your mouth. They tasted of you, a sweet-salty taste. You closed your lips around them, and sucked, letting your tongue tease around his fingers the way you’d tease his cock. “That’s it, good girl,” he grinned, and it sparked a small flame of pride in your chest.
When he was pleased with you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth. He let them glide over your lips, smearing your lipstick and coating your lips in your own saliva as a set of headlights illuminated the street. Then, he patted your cheek, nodding towards what you assumed was your uber as it rolled to a stop in front of you, “Go on, get in the uber.”
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In the uber Joel was quiet, ignoring you as were forced to make small talk with the driver (you’d give him a bad review just for that). When you thought the small talk had been torture enough, Joel slid his hand up your thigh, resting his big palm right at the seam of your leg as he looked out the window. If your panties weren’t already soaked from what he’d done to you in the alleyway of the club, then they definitely were now as the anticipation only grew.
Joel’s house wasn’t sad at all. It was quaint, and suburban, but homey. Nice. No expensive designer furniture, but sturdy and of good quality either way. He had no rare art, but a decent amount of family photos and what looked like a child’s drawings. You stopped in the middle of the stairs to admire them. In one of them Joel looked as old as you were now, with a baby in his arms, in another he had his arm around the shoulders of another man who looked a lot like him, just with darker hair. His brother probably, the one getting married. The little baby was a little girl, and she grew up in front of you; birthday parties, first days of school, soccer uniforms. Your eyes landed on a photo of her in a graduation cap with Joel and the other man at her side, grinning wide with a college diploma in her hands. This man wasn’t who you’d thought. He had a family– a daughter your age. The wall of memories squeezed at your heart, made something inside you always kept hidden break forth–
“You comin’?”
Joel waited at the top of the stairs for you, his face pulled into a confused frown. You skipped up the stairs, happy to have left your heels by his door. When you got to the top, you pushed at his chest, “Just looking at your sad things.” With a roll of his eyes, he led you to his bedroom.
“Get on the bed,” he ordered, but his voice was distant, the bite from the club was gone.
It felt like the perfect opportunity to play with him.
“No,” you blinked innocently, your eyes wide as you watched him unbutton his green flannel, “you’ll have to make me.”
He let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh, “I’m serious, sweetheart, I need to talk to you first.”
Talk?
“You can’t get it up, is that it? You’re too old?” you teased but sat down at the bed either way.
“You really are mean, aren’t ya?” His laugh sounded like a surrender. “A man wantin’ to be a gentleman and establish boundaries before he ruins her, and this is what he gets?”
Shaking his head, he walked closer, and cupped your head in his hands. “I plan on bein’ rough with ya, sweetheart, and I think that’s what you want too, isn’t it? Get fucked so hard you can’t think?” You nodded your head in his arms, the velvet bass of his voice going straight to your core.
“Listen’ closely– if I do anythin’ you don’t like, you say ‘red’ and we stop, and if you can’t speak then you pinch me, you hear?”
You nodded again.
“Words, baby, need y’to say it with that pretty voice.” His thumbs brushed over your cheek.
You nodded again, “Yes, sir… if I want you to stop, I say ‘red’, or pinch you.”
“Good girl,” he praised, “Anythin’ else?”
“Um…” Your front teeth caught on your bottom lip, “I’m on birth control– you can come inside me if you want.”
A noise rumbled in Joel’s chest. “Such a naughty girl,” his thumb brushed over the plump of your lips, “letting a stranger come inside her, huh?”
You nodded again, a wicked smile breaking against his thumb before you opened your mouth, and bit down. Not hard, just enough to pull a reaction from him, and you did.
Like a switch, the warm whiskey eyes faded into a deep black. The grip on your chin slid downwards, where it found your neck. He didn’t squeeze, but his grip wasn’t gentle either, holding you in place like a warning.
“You ought to treat me with more respect, brat…” he spat, his thumb digging into the column of your neck, “Apologize for your rude behavior.”
Against his hand, you shook your head to the best of your abilities, his grip tightening with your movement. You wished he’d choke you properly, make your head all fuzzy and empty– filled with nothing except for him.
“No.”
His face turned to stone above you, and you felt a giddiness flutter in your stomach.
 He didn’t like that.  
In one quick motion his hand was ripped from your throat as he stepped away. He didn’t look at you as he sighed, his hands falling to his belt buckle, sharp metal clinking.
Taking advantage of the moment, you admired the man before you. How big and broad he was. How his t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest, biceps bulging against the woven fabric. You studied his hands as they fiddled with his buckle, thought about how good they’d felt inside you earlier, the pleasurable sting as they’d stretched you out.
“Get on your knees,” he ordered, voice cold.
When you didn’t move, he took matters into his own hands.
“Get. On. Your. Fuckin’. Knees.”
His grip around your wrist was tight, as he pushed you down. The hardwood floor dug into your knees as he manhandled you, sure to bruise tomorrow. He stood his ground in front of you, legs slightly parted as you were now eye level with his inviting bulge. He was big, and you felt your eyes widen. Even hidden away in his jeans you could see it, see the length of his hard cock strain against his thigh – it made your mouth water as you squeezed your thighs together.
“Look me in the eyes,” he told you, and your eyes flicked upwards – obedient for once. “Eyes up here at all times– Don’t you fuckin’ dare look away.”
He made it hard to do as he’d ordered, popping the button on his jeans, and pulling the zipper down. You wanted to see his cock, touch it, feel it inside you. He couldn’t possibly expect you to not look when it was right there.
"Disobedient slut.” 
The slap came quicker than the stolen glance, and your hand came up to graze your cheek on pure instinct. It stung under your palm, like a thousand little knives.
“What did I jus’ say?” He spat out the question, his hand gripping your chin to force eye contact.
“Look away?” you tried, your voice rising an octave.
“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he sighed, leaning closer, “I ain’t wanna hear any more of your fuckin’ attitude.”
His grip tightened on your chin and your mouth dropped open by itself, “Open your mouth– that’s it… wider, just like that.”
Then he spat, right into your mouth.
You flinched at the suddenness of it, but Joel’s grip on your chin held you still– kept your mouth open, as you felt his spit slide further and further into your throat. You had a feeling you shouldn’t swallow until he told you, so you didn’t, your head pliant in his hand as you let him study you. A wide grin spread across his face as he moved your head from one side to the other, his rough fingers denting into your skin as you waited for your next command.
“Swallow, brat.”
He let go of your face, and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit with an audible gulp. “Good girl,” he muttered and stood tall, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.
The rough sound of denim against skin filled your ears as he freed himself. You were on your best behavior now, gathering your hands in your lap, sitting pretty for him as you locked eyes with him coquettishly.
“That’s better,” he said, “Actin’ like a proper good girl now,” he praised.
It took everything in you not to look, as he stepped closer.
With a fist tight around his cock, he brought the head to your mouth. He tapped it on your lips, smearing the precum beading at the tip and ruined your lipstick.
You wanted to taste him so badly, but he couldn’t know that. Pinching your lips together, you shook your head with wide coquettish eyes. His eyebrows pinched together in a frown, eyes narrowing at you as he pushed his cock against your lips.
“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, f’me,” he ordered.
Pretty. He called you pretty, and it was enough for you, you gathered, and stretched your mouth open for him.
“That’s it, wider.”
You twitched in surprise as he slapped the length against your tongue. It was heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with your saliva as he rubbed the head over your tongue, in and out, in and out – coating his big cock in your saliva, “just like that, baby, get it nice ‘nd wet.”
Closing your lips around the mushroom tip, you ran your tongue around it in circles, teasing the underside and the slit, before you tipped your head back. His cock bobbed in front of you obscenely, a frown formed on his face again and you knew he was about to tell you off.
Gathering a blob of saliva in your mouth, you spat on his cock instead. A low humming laugh rumbled from Joel’s chest, as he collected your spit and rubbed it in over his shaft in slow strokes. The spit dripped down, down over your front where you felt it darken the fabric of your dress. Subtly, you reached your hands behind your back to pull at the zipper.
“Yeah, that’s right, get those pretty tits out f’me.”
He let you maneuver out of your dress while he stroked his cock slowly in front of your face, and finally, you could get a good look at him. He was bigger than you’d thought from his bulge. Veins lining his thick shaft as you watched the way his fist moved up, massaging the tip gently, and down again in a slow, steady rhythm. At the base unruly curls of dark hair shone in the spit gathering, and you let your eyes wander downward to his balls where they hung heavy.
You wanted to taste them, too.
With your dress discarded on the floor beside you, you sat up slightly, spreading your legs and tucking your calves up to your thighs. Almost naked, safe for the thong splitting your cheeks, you arched your back slightly, making sure he got a good view of your ass.
A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest, and a hand came down on your head, “You want my cock, don’t you, slut?” he spat, slapping his cock on your right cheek, spreading your spit on your skin.
“Do you make all your girls wait this long or is it just me?” you tutted, almost rolling your eyes at him.
“There’s that fuckin’ attitude again.”
Slapping his cock harder against your cheek, he leaned forward letting a blob of spit drip from his own lips, coating both his cock and your face as he rubbed it in with his cock.
It was obscene, degrading, and you’d never been wetter.
In desperation to taste him again, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. The hand he’d used to stroke himself, wrapped around your skull, caging his cock between his hand and your face as he started thrusting against your face, his heavy balls rubbing against your chin with every slow push.
It was messy, sloppy, and wet. He held your head steady with his other hand, while he continued rubbing his cock over your cheek, nose, and forehead. His spit mixed with your own as you lapped at the underside of his cock; trying to taste as much of him as he’d give you.
“You dirty little whore,” he smiled, “You like that don’t you?”
Under him you whimpered, clit pulsing with want as he made you his plaything, did what he wanted with you.
“Yeah,” you moaned unabashedly, licking greedily at the underside of his cock.
At that, he laughed, and the grip on your head loosened as he pulled back. You only had time to take a deep breath before he stuffed his cock down your throat. It was abrupt, and harsh – the hefty length of him making room for himself inside your mouth.
You couldn’t fit him all inside, gagging as the head of him hit the back of your throat. He held you there still, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Your hand found his thigh where you tapped at him, and finally he pulled away.
You gasped for air, your breath wet with spit as small tears pricked at your eyes. His hand landed on top of your head again, grounding you to the moment as he searched your eyes, checking in.
No, you tried to convey, you’re not too rough.
Pleased, his cock bumped against your lips again, and you dropped your mouth open for him again.
“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting his cock back in your mouth, “let’me fuck that throat open.”
Dropping your jaw, you tried to make room for him in your mouth. It wasn’t easy, your lips stretched wide around the girth of him as you tried to calm yourself, to open your throat for him to abuse. His cock was easily the biggest cock you’d ever sucked, and you told yourself you needed to relax.
He pressed himself deeper, and you let out a whimper. “Work with me, slut, hold still.”
Trying your best to obey, you breathed through your nose, staving off your gag reflex the best you could as the head knocked at the back of your throat. His other hand cupped your chin, keeping your head still between his large hands. A tear rolled down your cheek when he rutted into your mouth, testing the waters.
“Good girl,” he praised, fucking gently into your mouth. Saliva gathered in your mouth, drooling down your chin with each thrust. “Such a fuckin’ mess– Look me in the eye as I fuck your throat.”
Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping you steady as you locked eyes with him. It was difficult, tears clouding him in a vignette, but you did as you were told. He studied you closely, tested your boundaries, completely in control.
You gasped for air when he finally pulled back again. A wet string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. A proud smirk coated his lips, while his hand stroked your head in praise.
The small moment of relief passed quickly, and soon his cock was back in your throat, bruising it in a steady rhythm.
“Take that fuckin’ cock all the way down your throat, whore,” he spat, his thrust a little rougher now that he knew you could take it.
He had you at his mercy now as he ruined you. Ruined your throat, ruined your body, ruined you for other men. Tears mixed with snot, which mixed with spit as it ran down your chin, dripping lewdly onto your tits where it made a mess.
Over you, Joel rambled.
“Good fuckin’ slut.”
“Choke on that big fuckin’ cock.”
“You love it don’t you?”
And you did, you loved it. Joel made you feel useful for once in a life – a fucked up thought, but then again you never said you weren’t fucked up. Joel’s words were filthy and dirty, and as humiliating as they were he made you feel wanted.
You just wanted to be wanted.
Another gasp of air filled your lungs as he slipped from your mouth. His grip on your head was tighter now, his cock throbbing in front of you. As much as you wanted him to fuck you, you wouldn’t complain if he came down your throat. He’d given you so much already.
“Fuck,” he whispered and let go of your head.
You took the opportunity to catch your breath, sniffling as you wiped at the snot that clogged up your nose. His hand came down to squeeze at the base of himself, clearly staving off his orgasm.
“What,” you croaked, your voice hoarse after his assault on your throat, “you’re so old you can’t come now?”
His eyes darkened as they locked with yours, and a giddy bouncing feeling twisted in on itself in your tummy. You wanted to see what he’d do to you– how he’d fuck you, and if you’d have to push his buttons to see it, you gladly push the big red button.
His hand wrapped around your bicep, digging into the skin as he dragged you to your feet and pushed you towards the bed.
“Still a fuckin’ brat I see,” he spat, “We can’t have that can we?”
Putting on your best puppy dog eyes, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Who me?” you said innocently.
“Bend over, slut,” he ordered, his voice coated in a tone that said he was fed up with your bullshit. Strong arms turned you around, manhandling you, and pushed your front down on his bed, “’nd spread your fuckin’ legs.”
With a kick to your ankles, he forced your legs open. Tipping your head up, you locked eyes with your reflection in the window, like a camera lens capturing your ruin at Joel’s hand. He hovered over you, his eyes trailing over your naked body, laid out for him to take.
The first smack came quickly, hard, and brutal on your ass cheek. It made you jump, the muscles in your ass clenching as you tried to reel yourself in. Joel’s rough hand soothed over the burn immediately, and you turned your neck to find his eyes.
“I wanna hear an apology from you, brat,” he said calmly, one finger hooking into the lace of your thong.
You shook your head. Stubborn. “No.”
His head fell between his shoulders, while his finger hooked in your thong tightened its grip, and with a hard tug, he ripped it in two.
“Then I’m gonna have to punish ya.” He said it with a deep sigh, like he had no other choice.
You couldn’t hide the excitement that filled you at those words, your cunt now dripping with need. A need for Joel.
With the scrap of your thong now discarded his hand danced over your ass. You tried not to hold your breath, but he drew it out, and you couldn’t help it. The tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t focus.
Smack!
He spanked your other cheek hard, and the tension was released with a whimper. A tickling feeling of pins and needles spread through your cheek.
Smack! Smack! Smack!
They came in quick procession, your hands gripping the sheets for a lifeline as he put you in your place. Moans fell from your lips without abandon, and you felt yourself drip down your legs.
Smack!
“Look how wet you are,” he noticed, running a finger through your seam, “You like it? Only desperate whores like to get spanked.”
He leaned over you, his soft belly (when had he removed his shirt?) pressed against your back, coarse hair tickling your skin, as you felt his hard cock rub up against your sore ass.
“But that’s what you are, ain’t you? A desperate fucking whore.” His breath in your ear, had goosebumps erupt down your spine, and you sobbed out a whine.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered, and pulled away – taking his warmth with him.
Smack!
Tears pushed their way behind your eyes, not because you didn’t like it, but it stung like a motherfucker. Joel wasn’t all brutal, he rubbed your skin between hits, but fuck if it didn’t also hurt with pleasure.
“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded.
Turning around you shook your head, big wide eyes watching him as he spanked you again.
Smack!
“You’re tearing up, little girl– It stings doesn’t it?” he asked, voice laced with fake pity.
You nodded.
“Well, maybe you should be a good girl then– say you’re sorry.”
Smack!
“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, voice cracking.
Finally.
Joel stopped immediately, his hand twisting around your waist to flip you on your back. His eyes danced over your body, almost tenderly but still full of lust. His hand moved up and down your sides, down the thick of your thigh before they gripped your ankles and tugged.
A squeal escaped you as he manhandled you, his large hands cupping your face while he fitted himself between your legs. “Good girl,” he cooed, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You shook your head in his hands, popping your lip out in an innocent pout.
“No,” he cooed, removing a hand to fit between your bodies.
You gasped when you felt the head of his cock bump your clit, the first real stimulation you’d had since you’d left the ally by the club. Your hips bucked by themselves, chasing the friction of his touch.
“Who owns this cunt?” he asked you, dark eyes staring into yours as he dragged his cock through your soaked folds.
“You do, sir,” you sighed immediately, your whole body aching for him.
A wide wicked grin spread across his face, “Lookit you bein’ such a good girl– finally know your place, huh?”
With no warning, you felt the blunt head of him press at your opening, and then Joel pushed inside you. Your mouth parted in a gasp at the intrusion; eyes glazed over in bliss as you felt yourself get split in two around the girth of his cock. He was so big, filling you up inch by inch, a heavy pressure poking at the deepest part of yourself.
“There you go, baby– you jus’ take it. Take all that cock inside,” he grunted, eyebrows pinched tight.
All you could do was moan as you felt him bottom out inside you, “Shit,” you gasped, “So fuckin’ big.”
“I know, baby, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” he praised, starting to rock his hips into you.
He picked up the pace quickly when he was sure you could take it, splitting you open on his cock as he made you takeit. Under him you could feel yourself float away in the pleasure. His hand came up to wrap around your neck and a big smile spread across your face.
You felt so warm. Joel felt so fucking good.
He reduced you to a puddle, a puddle of pleasure and ecstasy. It was better than any drug you’d ever taken. Better than the first day of summer vacation. Better than anything you’d ever known. The sound of skin against skin faded away into a tranquil rhythm of pleasure. You belonged to him now, lived only for him and the way his cock felt inside you.
“Feel how deep that is?” he asked you, somehow having maneuvered your knees to press into your chest.
You couldn’t do anything other than nod, desperate and whiny. You needed to fucking come. Inside you, his cock bumped into a spot no other man had reached before, and a fluttering feeling coiled itself in your core.
You were so close now.
“Joel,” you gasped, searching for the words as he continued his pace, balls slapping hard against your ass.
“No,” he told you, teeth gritted, “You hold it, slut, you hold it ‘till I give you permission.”
Later, a thought of how he’d had you so close to coming without even a tap at your clit would graze you, but in this moment your thought were only filled with Joel. A hand found his bicep, you needed something to hold on to or you’d burst, and squeezed. Above you Joel’s groans and moans got louder.
“Hold it.”
Tears streamed down your face, as you heaved for breath. You were right there, right on the edge now.
Please, Joel, please, sir, please.
“Come.”
Arching your back off the mattress, you shook as you finally tipped over the edge of bliss. The sounds escaping your throat weren’t your own, they were someone else’s, someone possessed with pleasure.
A “Thank you,” fell from your lips, but you don’t think he heard you. Above you, Joel’s movement became more and more erratic, thrusting himself deeper and deeper before a loud groan vibrated through his chest.
“You take it,” he growled, “take all that fuckin’ cum inside.”
He slammed his hips hard against you, pushing himself as deep as he could inside you, and came with a loud primal groan. His cock twitched within your walls as he emptied himself inside your cunt, the warmth of him filled you up as he painted your walls with cum.
“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck, “That cum feels so good inside, don’t it?” he cooed, and you nodded, your hands tangling in his hair. He pulled back and thrusted inside you again, fucking his cum deeper inside.
He stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths. His weight felt good on you, you were safe, as you floated somewhere between reality and a space you’d never been pushed to before.
And you missed him when he pulled away, sliding his half-hard cock from your fucked out cunt, dragging you with him up the bed. You reached for him, laying your hand open against his sheets, but he didn't see it, eyes mesmerized by his spend dripping out of you. His fingers slid through the mess, pushing his cum back inside as his eyes found yours.
Then something in the air shifted, and whatever had come over you, was gone. His fingers left streaks of wetness down the inside of your thigh as he pulled away. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to say.
You were ruined now – he’d ruined you for everyone who wasn’t him.
You sat up, turning your head over your shoulder to watch him, watch how his eyes trailed your body.
“Smoke?” you asked, your voice more unsteady than you’d thought.
Joel shook his head as you slung your feet off the bed to find your purse. He sat up against the pillows resting against his broken bed frame. Your eyes raked over his naked body as you fished a cigarette from your packet; drank in his strong arms, his wide chest and followed the dark hair of his happy trail down his belly to his soft cock between his thighs, still coated in your combined cum. Between your legs you could still feel his thick spend leak out of you.
You brought the cigarette to your lips, and just as you were about to light up Joel’s rough voice spoke, “Out the window,” he ordered with a nod in the direction of the window.
Everything was back to how it was before.
A dramatic huff escaped you, “All right…” you muttered.
You felt too heavy– he’d messed with your head; made you show him the real you. He couldn’t see that. So instead, you put your mask back on, turning to face the window to conceal the mischievous smile threating to spill across your face.
“Daddy.”
Behind you, as you cracked open the window, you heard the bed creak. You played it cool, lighting your cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window.
Joel’s breath teased at the back of your neck and over your bare shoulder, making goosebumps dance down your spine, “Thought I’d fucked the attitude out of ya,” his voice was stern.
“Guess I was wrong.”
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part two -> here!
i hope someone liked this? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 other than that thank you for reading!!
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© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!
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sluttywoozi · 9 days
Text
(Boy)Friend Material | Part I of II | csc x f!reader
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You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.
Rating: sfw (this part) | WC: ~3k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: emotional fluff, friends/idiots to lovers
Warnings: suggestive thoughts, down bad reader, implied alcohol drinking, kissing
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Matching with Seungcheol on Bumble was a fluke, or maybe a miracle, considering the fact that you re-downloaded the app on a whim and his profile was the first to come up. 
The second you saw him in that blue baseball cap and white tee, his jawline sharp and his bicep thick, you knew there was no point in trying to find anyone better. So you conferred with the group chat to crowdsource a good opening line, something about how his birthday should be a national holiday, and awaited his response with bated breath. 
He replied within minutes, saying that he’d always thought so but was intrigued as to why you did too, and you, ignoring your friends’ advice to play it cool, told him that he was obviously a gift to the masses to get them through these troubling times. He got bashful then, but apparently you didn’t come on too strong in a bad way, because the next thing you knew he was asking for your number and requesting to meet up for some coffee. 
That was four months ago, and though it never went further in a romantic sense, you know you’re lucky to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, the thoughts you have about Seungcheol aren’t the kind you’re supposed to have about a friend. 
You wish you could say you haven’t always wondered what those plush lips would feel like on yours, or if he’d be big enough to stretch you out, or whether he’d take you gently or pin you down and fuck you like he means it, but you’ve wanted Seungcheol ever since you first locked eyes with him, even if it was just through your phone screen.
It would be one thing if you only wanted to sleep with him, but it’s a million times worse because you want to love him too. You want to hold hands, and go on cute dates, and get him little gifts just to see his eyes light up. You want to fall asleep in his arms, and take care of him when he’s sick, and tell anyone who will listen that he’s your boyfriend. 
How could you want anything less when he looks like all of your dreams come to life? When he gazes at you with those big brown eyes, always listening so attentively, as if you’re the only one in his world that matters? When he takes care of you without thinking, like it’s just second nature?
Even at a house party like this, where there are plenty of girls eyeing him and more than a few of his bros wanting to talk to him, he’s by your side. The second your shoulders twitched in a shiver, his jacket was covering them. As soon as your cup was empty, he was accompanying you to the kitchen to refill it. And you know that when you give even a hint of wanting to leave, he’ll be guiding you to his car and taking you home, perfectly sober because he volunteered to be the designated driver tonight just so you could have fun and be safe. 
If only you could tell him to take you back to his place instead of yours. The problem is that he would, and he’d take your makeup off all gently, and give you a big t-shirt to sleep in, and tuck you into his bed before going to sleep on the couch, even though it hurts his back and his feet dangle off the edge. You know because that’s exactly what he did the time you managed to scrape together enough courage to ask if you could stay over after a night out. 
You can’t have a repeat of that, not when you woke up wishing you were his (after dreaming that he’d fucked you into his mattress). You barely kept yourself from begging him to make your dreams a reality that morning, especially when he greeted you with bedhead, a gravelly voice, and your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street. 
It took you weeks to get over it, to be able to look into his eyes without wanting to either confess your love or jump his bones. And still, almost two months later, you’re pushing down both of those desires. Holding your feelings back when you’re with him is a constant struggle, one that’s only made more difficult by his affectionate and protective nature. It’s becoming painful, knowing he likes you but not in the way that you like him, being so close to him but never as close as you want. 
Near Seungcheol is your favorite place to be, but you’re starting to think it’s not somewhere that’s good for you, which is distressing because at this point, he’s one of your best friends. You see him nearly every week for meals and little excursions, and you’d go for every day if you didn’t have to keep him from your other friends lest they give away your secret. You don’t know how you’d cope with not being around him, but you can only assume it wouldn’t be well when he’s so enmeshed in your life, even your landlord knows about him.
God, you cancel one maintenance call after Seungcheol fixes your leaky faucet and Jerry thinks every other repair request is bullshit…
You startle as Seungcheol leans in close to ask you something, though you’re too distracted by the weight of his hand on your waist to process his question. It’s warm even through the cotton of your shirt and the denim of his jacket, and he must think it’s too loud for you to hear him because he uses it to tug you closer as he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I think I’m just ready to go,” you respond weakly, forcing a smile that must look as fake as it feels. Knowing you’re not telling the truth about the first part, he frowns reproachfully at you and lets go of your waist to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling you behind him to the front door. There’s a chill in the air though it’s barely September, and he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, syncing his steps to yours and holding you tight.
It’s a short walk but the quiet tension makes it feel like eons have passed by the time you arrive at his sedan. He opens the passenger-side door for you and takes your bag so you can climb in unhindered, gently placing it at your feet before patting your knee and shutting you in. You watch as he jogs around the hood and gets in next to you, taking care not to slam his door. You wonder if it’s because the first (and only) time he did on a night like this, you thought he was upset with you for wanting to leave early. 
He was so sweet and concerned when you brought it up, instantly rejecting your offer to uber home so he could go back to the party as if he was offended you even asked, before telling you that there was no point in staying if he didn’t have you with him. That was just one of the many moments that have ruined you for anyone else. 
“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asks quietly, turning his body toward you and reaching for your hand. Unsure of what to say, you give it to him silently and fight back a shudder at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against yours. 
You hate lying to Seungcheol, partially because you always want to be honest with him but mostly because you’re so bad at doing the opposite. He picks up on it immediately, and then he gets this sorrowful, wounded look on his face and goes all quiet, which makes you feel like you’re the worst person on the planet. 
How honest can you be, though?
You could leave out the part about wanting him to fuck your brains out and lead with the non-platonic feelings you hold for him. Or you could leave out the emotional side of things and simply share that you want to ride him into the sunset. Or you could tell him everything, bare your soul and your pussy, and hope for the best. But what if the worst happens? What if he tells you he could never want you like that, that you’re like a sister to him, that he doesn’t want to see you ever again because you’ve ruined this friendship? 
You don’t think you can risk it. 
Still, you’d like to avoid deceiving him and hurting his feelings in the process, so maybe you could just be vague instead. 
“A lot of things, but nothing I want to talk about right now,” you finally answer, avoiding his eyes and pushing down the voice in the back of your mind that screams you’re a coward.
His mouth scrunches to the side and his brows furrow, but after a minute of silence, he accepts it. 
“Okay, just… You know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowers his head to find your gaze, sincerity emanating so brightly from him, it burns. 
Anything but this.
“I know,” you whisper, attempting a smile to appease him, though the way he sighs defeatedly and looks away makes you feel like you’ve just made him worry more. 
Facing the wheel again, he turns the key in the ignition and carefully reverses just enough to pull forward out of his makeshift parking spot. The music coming through his speakers is soft and low, too quiet to really fill the silence sitting between you and him, silence that isn’t usually there. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything at all, your body thrumming with a nervous energy that you’re sure Seungcheol can feel. 
Glancing over, you find his hands tight on the steering wheel and his lip caught in between his teeth. You hate the idea that your anxiety has seeped into him, but he’s always seemed to think your happiness is his personal responsibility, so you suppose it makes sense. 
“Are you taking the long way?” You ask in confusion when you face forward again and watch the on ramp to the highway pass you by. 
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay… Just wanted a bit more time with you,” he murmurs with a melancholy tinge to his voice. 
“Of course that’s okay, I love being with you.” Shit, you wanted to make him feel better but you didn’t mean to sound so-
“Do you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you never…” He looks over at you and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I know we’re taking things slow but I feel like you’re always holding part of yourself back from me. You never touch me, I’m always the one touching you. I make the majority of our plans. All my friends know you but I don’t know any of your friends,” he sighs in frustration and pulls over into an empty parking lot, putting the car in park. “And now tonight you don’t feel like you can tell me what’s wrong… I just- If you want to break things off, please just say so.”
When he finishes, he gazes at you, dejection swimming in his eyes like you’re breaking his heart. 
In your mind, you repeat the words that stand out to you as if they’re new arrangements of letters with meanings you’ve never encountered before.
T a k i n g  t h i n g s  s l o w.
B r e a k  t h i n g s  o f f.
What  t h i n g s?
“Seungcheol… Please don’t get upset, but I think we might not be on the same page,” you say slowly. “What are we? Because I was under the impression we were-”
“Friends,” you finish just as he responds, like it should be obvious, “Together.”
“You think we’re just friends?! We met on a dating app,” he bursts in a barely contained explosion. 
“You’re so hot, and sure, we went on that one coffee date, but we never went on any others-” You scramble to explain your reasoning. 
“We’ve gone on at least three dates a month since we met! Did you think we were just hanging out?” 
“...Yes?” 
“I plan them, I dress nicely, I pick you up, I pay,” he lists off on his fingers, clearly growing heated. 
“Okay, so maybe those were dates! But we don’t kiss, or have sleepovers, or talk to each other about our feelings,” you attempt to defend yourself. 
“I was trying to follow your lead,” he grimaces regretfully and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, could I have been kissing you this whole time?” 
“You could have been doing a lot more than kissing me,” you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the wishes and desires you’ve had since you first laid eyes on him. Then you see his face, and it doesn’t really feel funny anymore. 
He looks equal parts irate and amorous, that strong brow furrowed in displeasure though his gaze is greedy, like he’s had enough of you but at the same time, he could never get enough of you. 
“Alright, since I apparently need to lay it all out, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he turns to face you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You barely resist the urge to lean into it before realizing you don’t have to resist anything anymore when it comes to Seungcheol, your hand coming up to cover his and hold it to your face. 
His eyes soften at that, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he says, “First, we’re going to talk about our feelings and get on the same page. Then, I’m taking you to your place to pack an overnight bag and to mine for a sleepover, and this time I’m not staying on that goddamn couch. It’ll take a while to make up for four months of not kissing you, but we can start with tonight. Does that all sound good to you?”
“Everything sounds great,” you breathe dreamily, already envisioning being on your back beneath him with those perfect cherry lips on yours. 
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans, his head falling sideways against the headrest. “We have to talk first.”
“Are you telling me or yourself?” You ask teasingly, giggling when he squeezes his eyes shut and swears under his breath. 
“Both,” he sighs out before saying nervously, “I’ll start, because I’m a good boyfriend.”
You have to swallow down the squeal that threatens to burst from you just at the thought of Seungcheol being your boyfriend. 
“I’ve been into you since I met you,” he begins. “You make me laugh, you make my heart race, and you make me want you, all the damn time. The past four months have been the best of my life. You’re smart and beautiful and special and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Hearing Seungcheol say these things sends a rush of pure joy through you, followed by a flood of affection. He’s all you’ve wanted for four months, and now you know he likes you. And wants to be with you. It’s almost too much for you to handle… Almost. 
“Seungcheol, as soon as I saw you on that god-forsaken app, I knew I could stop looking. You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and devastatingly good looking, and I liked you so much that I tried to be happy just being your friend, but I always wanted more. I think it’s because I was so blinded by my crush on you that I didn’t realize we were more. We are more. Hopefully, you’re okay being with me for a long time, because I don’t know if I’ll ever want to let you go.”
He gazes at you, his face soft and his eyes earnest, adoring. “That’s fine with me,” he murmurs, leaning in. “Can I kiss you?”
“I literally thought you’d never ask,” you whisper, inching forward and holding your breath until his lips finally meet yours. 
They feel supple, lush, just like you knew they would, and he kisses you with a gentleness you didn’t expect. After four months of waiting, you thought he’d be impatient, rough, but he’s moving like he has all the time in the world, like you’re something worth savoring. He pulls away reluctantly, but you’re not done yet, your chin tilting so you can press your lips to his again. 
He sighs against you and you glide your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he opens his mouth to lick into yours. His hand shifts to cup your neck, tilting your head so he can kiss you at a different angle, and that’s when the moan slips out. 
It’s quiet, but obvious in the silence of the car, and you pause self consciously for a second before he brushes his thumb over your jaw and moans back. The sound is so hot that you’re inches away from unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console into his lap, your mind already wrapped up in thoughts of feeling his thick, sturdy thighs under you. He doesn’t let you get that far, breaking away with a gasp and staring at you heatedly, as if he can hear your thoughts. 
“I want too much from you for our first time to be in my car,” he pants raggedly, fighting to catch his breath after you attempted to steal it from him. 
“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you acquiesce, watching as he shifts into drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. When he’s on the road again, he rests his palm on your thigh with a glance and a raise of his brow, as if to ask if his placement is okay. You just smile and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to shove down the giddiness bubbling up within you as you get closer and closer to your apartment.
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AN: there was a natural separation between scenes so i decided to make this a two parter!! smutty part two will be posted sometime this weekend (hopefully)
please i am begging u to tell me ur thoughts and ur thots i am deep in seungcheol brainrot and i need to commiserate
edited to add: drop a comment to join the taglist!
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hadersversion · 2 months
Text
I. i can fix him (no really i can)
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“he had a halo of the highest grade, he just hadn’t met me yet.”
pairing: rafe cameron x innocent pogue! reader
word count: 1.9k
warnings: 18+ minors dni!! language, soft rafe cameron because my boy just needs some love, slow burn!!
mood board!
“hey,” i said, nudging him with my foot. “hey, rafe, i think it’s time for you to get up.”
i look down at the boy who was passed out on the ground of the beach. his shaved head covered in sand as beer bottles surrounded him. his eyes fluttered open at me, staring at me. “w-where the hell am i?” he said, slowly sitting up.
“the beach, it’s 6:30 in the morning.” i sigh, looking at my watch. “i assume you were at a party here last night and got ditched on the beach by your friends.”
i watched as he looked around the empty beach and groaned, covering his face with his hands and yawning. “fuck.” he mumbled to himself. he ran his hands down once before looking back at me. “thanks, for uh-….”
i laugh to myself. “making sure you were alive? don’t mention it.”
he nods with a smirk. “yeah, that.” we stay there in silence. “i’m sorry, w-what’s your name again? i recognize you from your friends i just…”
“y/n y/l/n.” i nod at him.
“y/n y/l/n.” he repeats back at me, not once breaking eye contact with me.
i feel my face heat up, not knowing what i’m feeling in this exact moment. this is rafe fucking cameron, kook prince and sworn enemy to my friends. he’s not a good person. i know who he is and i should hate him, but when his eyes pierce through me like that…like he knows all my secrets….that’s when i start to question reality. “well, i should get going.” i say, pointing awkwardly to the beach.
“it’s 6:30 in the morning, where could you possibly be going?” he asks, pushing his knees up and resting his arms on them.
i sigh and look around, feeling like i’m in the hot seat. “uh…it’s uh…it’s dumb, you wouldn’t wanna know.” i try to dismiss him.
“no, i wanna know, tell me.” he says, sternly.
i bite my lip and sigh. “towatchthedolphins.” i say in a fast whisper.
“what was that?” he asks with a cocky smile, making me blush. “i couldn’t hear ya, could ya speak up?”
“i’m watching the dolphins!” i say more clearer, looking down at him. “i’ve been waking up early and watching the dolphins. this is like their prime time, so i like to sit and watch them while i have my breakfast.” i admit to him.
i wait there, expecting him to laugh or do something heinous that rafe cameron would do to a pogue. but he doesn’t. he just nods. “cool, i didn’t know that was like a thing.”
did i take one of kie’s edibles this morning by accident? did i actually never wake up to my alarm and i’m still tucked away in bed? or did rafe cameron just have a super normal reaction to something i said to him?
“yeah, right now is the best season for it.” i inform him with a shy smile on my face.
he continues to stare at me with those fucking perfect blue eyes. he rakes over my body once and stands up. did he just check me out? “well, y/n, enjoy those dolphins. i should probably get home before my dad has a bitch fit. thanks again.” he waves goodbye to me before staggering away towards the exit of the beach. my body lets out a breathe that i didn’t even know i was holding and i start to feel tingly inside.
what the fuck just happened?
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰*.:。✧*.。:。*.。✱ ───
after that, i seem to find rafe cameron everywhere. as i ride my bike to work, go to the beach, hang out with the pogues. he’s clouded up my brain and i have no idea what to do. it’s not like i can tell anyone, i’d be marked with a scarlet T for traitor. but my thoughts can’t stop themself from being infiltrated by him.
“yo, y/n, everything cool?” jj asks me, sipping from his beer.
he snaps me from my rafe cameron brain rot, taking me by surprise. “yeah, everything’s alright. sorry, just a little tired.”
a whole group of us hang out by the beach at the boneyard, the usual pogues, some kooks who we invited in to fuck with, and the vacationers. everything was going alright, until i saw him.
“ain’t no fuckin way.” i hear jj spit.
rafe and his friends stroll up to the party, with a few girls scattered around them. i feel my face goes hot as my friends spit their remarks about him.
“what makes this douchebag think it’s okay to just show up here?” i hear kiara say.
“i don’t know but i don’t like it.” john b adds in.
my eyes can’t seem to leave his figure. he looks just as handsome as i remember from the beach. i know i am staring but i just cannot seem to care. but my brain short wires when he looks up, meeting my gaze with a cocky smirk. shit.
i feel my face get darker as i quickly avert my gaze down to my feet. "uh, i'm gonna get a beer. anyone want one?" but before my friends can even answer my question, i quickly make my way over to the coolers. once i know i am out of their sight, i take a well needed deep breathe and try to ground myself. my brain feels fuzzy with thoughts of rafe cameron but i have to push them down.
i bend over to grab a beer from the cooler when i hear a familiar voice behind me. "mind if i grab one?" i quickly turn my head to see rafe, staring into his blue eyes like they were the goddamn eighth wonder of the world.
he's so close yet so far away, i can smell the expensive cologne he has on. my brain gets off of autopilot and screams at me to put space between us, which i attempt to do. but before i can think, i'm tripping over my own feet, almost falling back. but i feel rafe's large hand quickly land on my lower back, saving me from the tumble.
"woah, there, did you already have that much to drink?" he jokes.
i stare at him, my face probably matching the color of a budweiser can. "i...uh...i..um..." i feel myself babbling on, unable to form a single thought as he has his hands on my body. "s-sorry about that. but i...i've only had one beer, i'm just a total klutz sometimes i swear."
he keeps his hand on my back, i can feel him slightly rubbing it, sending goosebumps all over my body. he keeps looking into my eyes, which seems to be his favorite hobby at this point. "well, i'm glad i caught ya." we stand there in silence for what feels like an eternity, until i remember where i am. who i am here with.
my friends.
i frantically look around, making sure they aren't looking at me dying under rafe’s touch. i pull away from him quickly.
"don't worry they aren't looking." he reassures, grabbing my beer and opening it for me. "i assume it's your friends you are looking for." he hands me back the cold beverage, our fingers brushing against each other.
i quickly snap my hand back and look up at him, he has a small smile on his face as he looks down at me. "sorry, but, i mean...you understand, right? my friends don't like you, you don't like them. if they see me talking over here with you...it'll be a whole thing."
"i didn't peg you as someone who cares about what other people thought about them. i don't know, i mean you did admit to me very easily your love for dolphin watching." he smirks as he grabs a can of beer and opens it. "just saying."
i want to hide away forever. "p-please don't mention that to anyone else. please." i beg with an awkward smile.
"i won't, i won't. don't get so freaked out." he takes a long sip of beer. "it's kinda cute." he says so nonchalantly.
did he just call me cute?
this is a prank, this is merely a big joke to him. it has to be.
i can tell i took too long to process what he just said because he nudges me lightly with his elbow. "did i lose you there?"
i shake my head and laugh. "sorry, i'm all good." we stand there, sipping our beers in silence. "why are you here?" i ask with no hesitation, which earns me a wide-eye reaction from rafe. "that was rude but...like for real, why? you never come to pogue parties. i thought we were too beneath you to ever join us."
"i mean, you have a point." he looks down at me with a smirk, which makes me flip him off. he chuckles at me and sips his beer. "honesty?"
"please." i say.
he sighs and looks around. "i'm here to see you."
i choke on the sip of beer i'm taking, too shocked at what he just told me. i watch as he steps forward in concern and tries to put his hand on my back, but i move away quickly. i cough agressively before turning to him. "i-i'm sorry, what?" i almost laugh in his face.
"i'm pretty sure you heard me, y/n. i'm here for you." he admits.
i stare at him, waiting for him to laugh, admit that it was a joke, or even a ploy to mess with the pogues like some kind of goddamn trojan horse. "you're serious?"
"i think you would know if i'm lying." he shrugs.
i stand there, unable to wrap my head around what he just said to me. "you're so full of shit." i blurt out.
he just laughs. "am i now?"
"you're here to see me? the girl whose name you couldn't even remember a few days ago?" i cock my eyebrow at him.
"is it so horrible to believe?" he questions. i look at him, trying to tell if this is real or fake. he waves his hand in front of my face. "i lost you there again."
"i'm sorry, it's just...i'm me...and you're you. we exist on totally different planets...universes." i tell him.
"yet here we are, right next to each other on planet earth." he says.
he got me there.
"y/n!?" i hear kiara yell.
rafe turns his head to the voice calling my name and then back to me. "that's your cue to leave, i think."
i cannot turn away from him, too dumbfounded about the past 5-minute conversation we just had. "you're not slick." i say, starting to walk away backwards so i'm facing him.
"i didn't think i was being slick!" he says, with his hands up in his defence.
"i see through you and your lies, rafe cameron! i really do!" i yell at him as i get further away.
"yeah, i'd like to see you try, y/n y/l/n!" he shouts back, smiling at me.
i crack a smile back to him and flip him off before walking into the crowd, looking for kiara.
she comes up and puts her shoulder around me. "you all good? was he bothering you?" she asks, looking back to where rafe and i were.
i follow her gaze and see rafe still standing there with that same look on his face. "no, he wasn't. i'm all good, i swear." i say honestly. "just having a small talk."
"with the kook prince? no one ever just has a 'small talk' with rafe cameron, y/n." she says, squeezing me tighter.
"well i guess i'm the first person to ever do so." i shrug and continue to walk back towards the boys, trying to hide the stupid smile rafe cameron put on my face.
2K notes · View notes
c0llisiion · 8 months
Text
NEED TO KNOW — j.jk
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★Pairing: jeon jungkook + f!reader
★genre: smut
★: older!jk, dads bestfriend!jk , oral (giving and receiving ) , unprotected sex , reader has a crush on jk, bachelor!jk, big dick jk, size kink kinda, hair pulling, gagging, slapping, pervert jk , dry humping , anal play , degradation, name calling, nicknames - lmk if i missed any!
★W/C: 4,395
A/N: remember that time I mentioned a jk fic that i was writing? This is that fic. Literally put this on hold for 2 months and finished writing it last night 😭 anyways enjoy!!
.02 <3
☆⋆。𖦹°‧★ MDNI. Please refrain from reading if the topics make you uncomfortable. ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
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“But i dont wannnnaaaaa goooooo!..” you whined as you declined your dad’s offer to go to his big company party. “Sweetheart this is a huge deal for me …” your dad countered. “… more over, mr.jeon is going to be there ..!” Your ears perked up at the mention of Mr. Jeon. The tall, tatted bachelor with his piercings and built body, who has been your dad’s best friend since his college days.
Since you were a teenager, you have had the biggest crush on him. He was perfect in every way. He was older. More wiser. Handsome. Just your type. The initial infatuation was small, but as you grew into your adult years, it grew stronger.
You were starting to dream about him. Not even the usual kind. Wet dreams.
He grew older like fine wine. Body covered in beautiful art. Built like an actual Greek god.
Surprisingly, he was not yet married, even though he was well off in his late 40s. He used to say 'no woman has ever caught my attention' when someone mentioned him still being single at his age—from what you've heard.
Your dad and him, being business partners, frequently bring him to your home. Always hanging out at the bar or in your dad’s study. You capitalized on these small visits and began attempting to attract his attention. Whenever he came over, you started hanging out at the bar. Offering to make him special drinks. Talking about his interests , which you found out through intense stalking just to impress him. wearing revealing clothes, buying him his favorite food and snacks whenever you visit his office to pick up something for your father. You got very close to him. Your obsession with him became stronger because he seemed so nonchalant about your little tactics. The worst thing you have ever done was hire someone to break off one of his relationships. Only you were meant for him. No one else.
Hearing your father say that he would be there was another opportunity to impress him. You shot up. “WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS BEFORE???” You say as you rummage into your closet for the perfect dress. Your father believed that your attraction to Jungkook was innocent and similar to that of a child. You had always said you hated the smell of alcohol, so he thought it was strange for you to start hanging out at the bar. Despite noticing many changes, he dismissed them as 'innocence', so he expected you to join him if he mentioned Jungkook. He left your room with a satisfied smile on his lips. You finally found the dress. A satin spaghetti strap dress in black, his favorite color, with a dangerously low open back. The dress was revealing when you put it on; the side of your boob was peeking out, but it hugged your curves perfectly. As the time got closer, you finished up spraying on your most expensive perfume, taking a final look at yourself before leaving.
The party was classy. A huge venue with what appeared to be millions of waiters with champagne. Upon entering the venue with your family, your eyes immediately searched for Jungkook. It wasn't long before you spotted him in the middle of a small group. He seemed to notice your family and hurried towards all of you without delay. As he got closer, your heart was beating fast. “Hey hey! My man!” He said taking your dad into a tight hug. “You could have come a bit more later!” He said sarcastically, taking a jab at your dad’s late-coming habit. “Don't blame me! This one took too long!” Your dad exclaimed, hugging you by your side. Jungkook’s eyes landed on you. He stared you down. Taking in each and every curve, his eyes eventually landed on your chest before he looked at your face and smiled. “So glad you came! You look gorgeous tonight.” He said, taking in your hand and kissing the back of your palm slowly, in a sensual way, while deeply staring into your eyes. He pulled away and rubbed the skin with his thumb before giving you a smirk. You felt your insides melt and your brain malfunction at his simple gesture. You were frozen in place and didn’t know what to do. You shyly backed away and looked down , trying to hide your wide smile with your bangs, which Jungkook took notes on.
Time flew by as you watched Jungkook speak in front of the huge crowd with charisma and confidence. One of his best traits. He always caught everyone’s attention with his choice of words and tone. It was embarrassing for you to admit that, but it turned you on. Your legs were crossed, rubbing your thighs together from time to time, and no one seemed to notice, except for Jungkook, of course. He eyed you every time you made a small movement.
All the speeches and boring talks concluded, which made you run out onto the balcony for some fresh air. You stared off into the distance, thinking about what Jungkook had done to you earlier. Was it platonic? Was he just being nice? Does he have feeli- “did all those old men bore you out?” Jungkook was behind you. His voice husky. His lip and eyebrow piercing, shining under the moonlight. You were caught off guard and turned around to see ‘your man', “mr.jeon! Ugh you scared me!” You said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. He gets closer with a charming smile on his face and hands in his pockets. “My apologies. I didn't mean to scare you!” He let out a soft chuckle. “How is your night going?” He asked you. “Hm? Oh good i guess, it’s kinda boring, but i would do anything for my father..” He chuckled and gave you a side eye. “For your father? Really?” it seemed like he knew the real reason why you were here in the first place. “Wdym really? I love my dad!” You said in a playful, offended tone.  He chuckled once again. “Fine fine! I know how much you adore him.” You sighed softly and smiled.
“I like that dress on you. It suits you a lot.”  He said while eyeing you. You blushed at his compliment, looking down and fiddling with your acrylic nails. “Thank you..” you mumbled under your breath. You feel him getting closer to you. “Sorry? I didn’t hear you,  sweetheart.” His hands were on your hips, squeezing them softly. You froze in place. Heart beating faster. Your legs threatening to fall. His hands creeped towards your ass. Groping it softly, not wanting to seem too pushy. “Mr.jeon…-“ you let out a shaky whimper at his touch. “It’s jungkook for you, doll.” He said leaning in closer to your ears. He took a huge sniff of your neck and hair. “Thierry mugler alien eau de parfum? You have good taste.” He said while softly chuckling in your ears before pulling away. He lifted your chin so you can look at him. Your eyebrows were slightly furrowed as you stared into his intoxicating eyes. “What did you want to say earlier?” You gulped before speaking up. “Thank you… jungkook.” He smiled at you before placing a kiss on your forehead. His hands went under your ears, caressing the soft skin gently. Your eyes widened, and you just stood there. “I’ll see you around okay?” He said smiling before he left. You were standing put, like a statue, your limbs refusing to move. 
A few days went by, and you were still processing whatever happened with jungkook that night. His kiss. The way his hands caressed your body. His little nicknames. It was just too much to process. You didn’t see or hear much from jungkook since that day. There were small interactions, but he seemed to ignore you each time. You were starting to get worried. What happened? What did you do wrong? Did you fuck up? Does he hate you?. You never stopped overthinking.
One morning, you heard the familiar voice of Jungkook from the kitchen, laughing and giggling with your father. You quickly put on your clothes and dolled up, still hoping to impress him, before you went downstairs. “Ah! She’s finally awake! We were just talking about you!” Your father exclaimed. You observed jungkook as he sat on the kitchen island and ate what appeared to be lucky charms. His favorite cereal. He glanced at you briefly before turning away. You felt your heart shatter. After all that he did? Is this the way he treats you? . You walked past him and got yourself a glass of orange juice. “Did you sleepwell princess?” Your father inquired. Jungkook was still not looking at you. His gaze was fixed on the newspaper in front of him. “Yeah yeah i did.” You said putting on a fake smile. “Oh!” Your father exclaimed as he heard his phone ring. “Excuse me.” He said before rushing out of the kitchen.
You glared at jungkook and gulped down your orange juice before dropping the glass onto the table. Jungkook noticed your action, which made him put his newspaper aside and walk towards you. “What’s wrong?” He inquired, leaning onto the island. “Hmph!” You huffed, turning around. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Come onnn! Tell me.” He said while hugging your waist from the back. You let out a heavy sigh before turning back around. “What did I do wrong? Why do you keep doing this to me?” You asked. “Doing what?” “Are you seriously going to act like you don’t know?” You said folding your arms. Jungkook had a confused look on his face. “You are ignoring me damn it!” “Ohhhhh! About that! I just didn’t have anything to say.” He said shrugging. You rolled your eyes at him. “Admit it, Jungkook, you just want to play with my feelings. You don’t care about me. You never did.” You let it all out. It was weird for you to act like this, but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkooks eyes darkened, and he stared at you. You gulp.  “You think I don’t care about you? Me? Not caring about you? You think i come to your house almost every other day for your father?” He said while pushing you down onto the island. He turned you around and hugged you close to his body; you could feel his clothed hard dick on your pussy. You shudder when he slowly grinds his hips into your behind. “Ya feel that doll? Thats how you got me everyday..” he said whispering into your ears. His free hand found your right tit before he gave it a squeeze. Tugging the thin white fabric of your crop top down to expose your hardened nipple. You hear him darkly chuckle in your ear before giving the sensitive bud a squeeze. His hips never seemed to stop as he continued dry-humping you. You felt yourself involuntarily lowering yourself on the island, pushing your ass back into him for more stimulation. He immediately pulls away, leaving you weak and clenching around absolutely nothing. You whined, turning around to face him with pleading eyes. “What?” He scoffed at how desperate you were. He got closer and fixed your shirt. He didn’t say anything and just rubbed your shoulders down before walking away. 
A while later, you were napping in your bedroom. It was not uncommon for you to take naps in between the day since you were basically unemployed and didn’t have much to do, and you also needed one after what happened with jungkook.
All the blinds were shut, leaving the room completely dark. It was silent; the only sound that was heard was the faint noise of the air conditioner. You were in deep sleep and didn’t notice or hear Jungkook entering your room. You felt the bed sink next to you before you felt a cold hand on your hip. His hands, kneading the soft flesh of your ass before it grazed around your desperate cunt. You whine when you feel his fingers touch and draw circles on your sensitive part. “Shh..” he shushed you before pressing onto your pussy. He chuckles at how quickly you got wet. Your mouth was agape, soft grunts escaping every second. He slowly pushed you onto your stomach, climbing on top of you before pulling your pink panties to the side.
It was dark, and he couldn’t see much, but he could feel how soaked you were. He spread your cheeks and lowered his mouth down onto your cunt, sucking on it. Your eyes shot open, heavy breathing as you turned around to see the man of your dreams eat you out from behind. “Ju-jungkook..?” He shut you up by lapping his tongue over your dripping cunt. You let out a loud moan, your head falling sideways, already drooling even though he barely started. He lifted your ass up using his strong hands, making you arch your back. He dropped his head lower and started sucking on your clit, his big nose pressing into your soaking pussy. You grabbed a handful of his hair from behind and pushed him closer. He hummed into your pussy, making you gasp for air. Loud slurping and squelching sounds, along with his groans and your moans, echoed throughout the room. You were seeing stars. The way his mouth ate you out and the feeling of his cold lip ring on your pussy were beyond comprehensible. Your heart started beating faster as you felt your body warm up, and a knot formed in your abdomen. Jungkook took notes on your body language and pulled away. You cried out when you lost contact.
He leaned in and switched on one of your bed lights, finally giving the room some light. He observed your body. Your ass was still up, your pussy glistening with his spit and your arousal. It was clenching and unclenching around nothing. He let out a scoff before turning you around. Your face already looked fucked out. Tears painted your cheeks, and drool was all over your mouth. He hovered over you, placing a hand on the headboard. He used his other hand to wipe your face clean. “We have gotten ourselves a good hour; better make this quick, alright?” You nodded softly and wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him into a soft and tender kiss. He kissed you back and hugged you closely to his body. His hands went under your tee, squeezing your tit. You whined into the kiss. “You are so sensitive, sweetheart…” he mumbled. You break off the kiss and cup his face. “Jungkook… want more..” He tilted his head to the side and stared at you. He put on a smirk before standing at the foot of the bed.
He took off his pullover, revealing his tatted arms and toned abs and pecs. The soft bed light that was illuminating the room was able to capture every detail of his body. You stare. Hand in between your legs, squeezed shut. You bit your lip softly before your eyes met his. He gestured for you to come closer, which made you crawl to him. Your face was now right in front of his hard dick. You could see the bulge growing. His hand went behind your head, grasping your hair gently. You looked up at him with your doe eyes, which instantly made him fold, but he kept his composure. He gave you a nod, pushing your head closer to his crotch. Your nose nudged the bulge before your greedy fingers hastily unzipped his pants. Your eyes widened when his cock sprung out and hit his stomach. He was big. Girthy. The tip was red, and you could see his precum peaking from the slit. Without wasting time, you took a stripe from the base of his dick until the tip before you sucked on it. He hissed at the feeling of your plump lips sucking on his sensitive tip. He was starting to get impatient and pushed your head down, filling your mouth even though he was only half way in. You looked at him with teary eyes as you choked around his girth. He almost lost it when you looked up at him with those eyes of yours. His other hand caressed your cheek, pushing himself further down your throat. You could feel him. Your jaws were hurting, and you grabbed onto his hips for stability. Your throat spasmed around his cock. He noticed how you were kinda struggling. “Better make me feel good, okay? I want that throat to show me what it got.” With that, he started thrusting into your mouth. You started choking and gagging around his length, which just turned him on even more.
He yanked your head off of his cock. A string of pre cum and saliva connected your lips and his cock head. You looked up at him and whined, wanting his dick to stuff your mouth again. He bent down to your level before licking your chin clean, swallowing the mixture before speaking to you. “On your knees and hands, baby girl." You obliged immediately, taking off your flimsy tee before throwing your ass in the air and arching your back for him. You felt the bed dip behind you, and jungkooks long dick landed on your ass, slowly grinding through the sheer panties.His wet cock making it translucent. You whimpered, already feeling yourself getting hotter. “You are such a dumbslut.” He lowly chuckled.
“You think it wasn’t obvious?” He removed your skirt and ripped your panties. You gasp at his sudden action. “All these skimpy skirts and tops.. and just when I'm around? Were you that desperate, princess ?” He said while pushing his cockhead into your sopping hole.
You let out a loud moan; his tip was enough to stretch you out. “Not gonna lie… i was very flattered” gripping your ass cheeks as he slowly pushed further, letting you adjust to his size. He continued. “I only kept my cool because you were my best friend's daughter, but—holy shit-“ he gets cut off as you clench around his length, tears already dripping down your face. Your mind fogging up. You were constantly letting out soft moans and whimpers as he slowly bottomed down into you. “Woah there-“ he chuckled. “im not even half way in sweetheart” he said while grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back. You looked at him with teary eyes. Lips quivering. He smirked before kissing your cheek. He let go of your hair and pushed your head down into the pillow using his hand. The other hand was on your hip as he finally pushed all the way in. “Since you are begging for it— ” you let out a loud scream as he filled you to the brim.
Although it was painful, the pleasure made you forget about the pain. you felt warm spit fall on your pussy as he starts moving. “Gon’ fuck you silly, alright? Isn’t that what you wanted? Getting dicked down by your father's friend? What a whore…” You nodded incoherently. A loud cry left your lips as his hips thrust into you harshly. His pace was slow, but the way he thrust in was so... Your body was moving forward with every thrust. Sounds of wet skin slapping echoed through your room. You were not able to focus on anything. His pace increased, and so did the harshness of his thrust. You clenched around him, making him fall forward. He caged your tiny body under his larger one. “Fuck babygirl.. you are gonna rip my dick off..” he chuckled. “Jungk-kook… feels too good…” you managed to blabber out as he fucked into you like a madman. “Yeah? you like that? You liked getting fucked by older men, dont you sweatheart?” You whined as his large hands gripped your hair.
This was wrong. Very wrong. This man has seen you grow up. He has been there since you were a baby.
“Let me hear those pretty sounds…” he said while landing a tight slap on your ass, reddening the area almost immediately. You gasped and whimpered, letting out a loud pornographic moan as Jungkook hit a specific spot. His other hand found your swollen clit and started drawing rough circles on it. Pinching and tugging the abused nub. Your legs trembled, and your moans got louder. “F-fuck! Jungkook…don’t s-stop! Feels so good!” You babbled. Jungkooks eyes were focused on your pussy. The way you took in his length. Your milky white cream coated his entire length, collecting at the base of his cock.
He stopped thrusting in you for a moment. You whined as you felt him suddenly stop. Jungkook smirked before leaning over and whispering in your ears. “Fuck yourself on me, doll.” You cried in defeat. Jungkook placed his hands on his hips, waiting for you to start moving. You gulped before slowly rocking your body forward and backward. You could feel his every inch penetrating the insides of your gummy walls. His large tip hitting your cervix over and over again. “Thats all you can do? Wow.. so pathetic..” he scoffed. You shook your head furiously and started going faster. Jungkook let out a satisfied groan as he watched your ass ripple. “Play with that little clit of yours.” He commanded. You reached down in between your legs, finding the sensitive nub almost immediately. You slowly rubbed your clit, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned out as the stimulation of your pussy and clit was getting overwhelming. You fucked yourself faster on his cock. Mouth in a soft ‘o’ shape and eyes crossed as his cock hit your gspot every time you moved in and out. Jungkook was in a different world. His eyebrows were furrowed, and sweat dripped down his neck. He was close to cumming just by seeing you fuck yourself on him.
His hands spread your ass cheeks, before a glob of spit landed on your asshole. You shuddered and panicked, stopping for a moment. “J-jungko-?” “Just focus on fucking yourself; everything is going to be alright…” he reassured you. You nodded before going back. His long fingers toyed with your rim. You grunt when you feel his fingers prod into your asshole. “Shh- shh.. youre safe .. jus’ wan’ try something new..” You gulped and shut your eyes tightly as his fingers ventured further into your asshole. He shoved three of his fingers into you, making you moan out loud. “Fuckkkkk- so tight…” he whispered. You melt and crumble when you feel his fingers move inside of you. You buried your head in your pillow, muffling out any unholy noise.
Your pussy and asshole clenched around his fingers and dick, making him groan. “So damn sensitive… has any guy fucked you, this good princess?” You shake your head. “N-no sir …” Jungkook shot up at the name. His fingers increasing in speed. You let out choked-out moans and cries as his fingers curled inside your asshole. “Say that again, will ya?” His other hand found your hips and started stretching your pussy out again. “Please.. f-fuck me harder… sir.” That was all it took to make Jungkook go feral. His cock left your pussy and was immediately shoved inside your sensitive ass. Your eyes shot out, and you couldn’t make any noise as you looked back at jungkook with tears rolling down your cheeks. He pinned your wrists behind your back before moving in and out. He struggled, initially. curse him for not stretching you out more, but his cream-coated cock provided enough lube for him to start pounding into you smoothly. “Shits so fucking tight- gah-“ your lips quivered and legs trembled as Jungkook fucked into you with great strength.
You screamed out, finally getting your voice back after he fully plunged his cock into you. Your cunt was leaking arousal, dripping down your thighs. Jungkook didnt seem to stop. His heavy, cum-filled balls were slapping against your pussy. “Jungkoook…- its too- too much!” You cried out. “Take it. You are a big girl. Take it like a big girl. I know you fucking can. Look at your little ass sucking me in. So good. So fucking good.” He pulled your body back and pounded into you. Your face was a mess. You cried and moaned like a bitch in heat every time he filled you to the brim. You felt your orgasm approaching as the feeling of the familiar knot in your stomach began growing. “Jung-jungkook- gon’ cum…” you whined. “Go on princess… be a good girl and cum all over me..” you nodded weakly, focusing on reaching your high. Jungkook flipped you over, laying you down on your back. His hands pushed your legs up against your chest. You were in ecstasy as the new position had you seeing stars. You observed Jungkook's sweaty body and fucked-out face.
A slap was landed on your glistening, sopping pussy before two fingers were shoved inside them. His thumb stimulating your clit. “Ngh- oh fuck- jungkook m’ so close…!” Your eyebrows were knit together, and sweat dripped down your face. The overstimulation getting too intense. Both his hips and hands increased their pace, determined to help you reach your high. You saw white as Jungkook pressed down on your sensitive bud. Clear liquid gushed out of your pussy and landed on his abdomen. You screamed as he continued fucking you through your orgasm. “Yeah.. just like that.. so dirty.. you are such a dirty little girl..” Jungkook's movements got sloppier. Your orgasm turned him on by a mile, and he was close to cumming himself. You twitched under him, still not over your intense orgasm, not noticing that he had slipped out of you and was furiously jerking himself off. His head was thrown back, and soft moans left his mouth. His breath hitched when a load of his milky white cum shot out all over your body. Coating your stomach and your boobs. You moan as you feel his hot cum land on your body, taking the mixture in your shaky fingers and licking it off while staring into his eyes. Jungkook smirked at you with half-lidded eyes.
“My dirty little girl."
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A/N: HEHE THANK YEWWW 4 READINGGG! how was it tho? This would have been a stepcest fic but i changed my mind in the middle 🙁💔 im currently writing fics from my inbox! You can send in your rqs <3
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