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#and pulls out matching t shirts he had made
artdcnaldson · 3 months
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NEED art and patrick to find out I'm a virgin and offer to teach me how to kiss and how to fuck and use eachother as examples and guide me and tell me I'm doing a good job and reward me for being such a good student and come back later and quiz me to see if I remember everything they taught me ugh obsessed with them individually and as a unit
This has lived rent free in my mind for literally forever. I can’t stop thinking about it, it haunts my every waking moment.
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Rating: E (18+)
Warnings: Making out, Handjob lessons, guys being pervs, not a love triangle they just all want to fuck each other
A/N: unedited bc I wrote this while on the clock okay whatever. Enjoyyyy and if u want me to continue this lmk >:)
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“I think it’s sweet,” Patrick said, and you could hear the amusement in his voice, practically dripping from every syllable. “The last American virgin. You belong in a museum.”
You rolled your eyes and tossed your empty Taco Bell cup at him— the ice rattled and it leaked a puddle of condensation onto the ground. “You could try not to be a dick about it.”
Art’s dorm room was hot and sticky thanks to a faulty AC, which meant the three of you lounging on the floor by his open window, sucking down soda watered down by melted ice cubes. You were down to a T-shirt and shorts, they were down to their boxers. It wasn’t lost on you that it was an intimate situation to be in— barely dressed, crammed into the shoebox of a dorm. And of course Patrick had dug his fingers in until you admitted your secret— you had made it all the way to college totally unfucked.
Patrick leaned forward, smiling the smarmy smile that tended to wear at your last nerve. “So you’re a virgin, but like,” he leaned in, so close you could feel body heat radiating from him. He dropped his voice, just above a whisper. “How much of a virgin, really? You’ve at least gone to third, right?” You glared, but shook your head.
“Second?” Art supplied, suddenly jumping in with an eager sort of curiosity.
“What? No, I don’t even know what that means,” you admitted. You sighed before you spoke up. “I’ve only ever kissed one guy and one girl, and it was during a game of spin the bottle, like, junior year.”
“How?” Patrick asked.
Your brows furrowed. “How? I spun the bottle, it landed on the person, I leaned in, put my lips against theirs, and that was it.”
Patrick sighed. “Just fucking show me how.” He looked at you expectantly, inching even closer.
With an annoyed sigh, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his— mouth closed, lips firm. When you sat back, Patrick and Art were both grinning.
“What?” You asked with a frown.
“That’s how you kiss on the playground in elementary school,” Art said, unable to contain his laughter. “C’mere.”
You crawled forward, stopping in front of the blond. His hand settled on your jaw, coaxing you forward.
His lips met yours softly, sweetly. It was easy to lose yourself in the feeling of Art’s mouth, in the gentle brushes of his lips against yours and the way he held your face so tenderly.
The feeling of his tongue pressing against the seam of your lips was strange, but you welcomed it, letting him lick into your mouth.
Each pass of his tongue against yours drew you deeper and deeper into it, into him. You moved into his lap without realizing it, kissing him with sweet, timid laps of your tongue.
Art pulled back first, his cheeks soft and pink and so pretty. “See? That’s how you’re supposed to kiss someone. That was really good.”
You laughed softly, and moved off of his lap sheepishly. Patrick leaned forward, brushing your hair back, holding your face in his hand.
“Okay, show me what Art showed you,” he instructed, then leaned in.
Kissing Patrick was different than kissing Art. He was hungrier, more insistent. His tongue pressed into your mouth like he wanted to chart every inch. You did your best to match what he offered, to kiss the way Art had just shown you, sweetly, like you really meant it.
And you did mean it. Patrick’s hands moved along your side, up until they cupped your tits through your shirt. You moaned softly into his mouth— the sound was muffled, met with a moan of his own. He gave an experimental squeeze of your tits and you whined softly. So he did it again, amused by the pretty, sweet noises you mewled out.
Patrick was getting hard, pressing against your thigh. It was a new sensation that you were hyper aware of as you unconsciously ground yourself against him.
You pulled back first, cheeks burning hot after you remembered Art was right beside you. You tucked unkempt hair behind your ear, smiled bashfully. “How was I?”
“Good,” Patrick said.
At the same time Art supplied, “So good.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Okay. Cool.”
Art was squirming, fidgeting, holding a pillow over his lap. Patrick was less covert— opting to openly adjust himself, drawing more attention to the fact that he was hard. You rolled your eyes and stole the nearest cup you could find, sipping at watered down Mountain Dew.
“Do you want me to leave?” You teased, raising an eyebrow. Your teeth dug into the plastic straw as you looked between the two of them.
Art stammered, mortified, but Patrick just smiled dizzyingly over at you. “I can teach you something else. You got to first base, so why don’t you steal second?”
You rolled your eyes, but heat flared behind your cheeks. Jesus Christ, he was such a smug asshole. “I still don’t know what that means,” you said, feeling a little embarrassed.
He grinned and mimed jerking off. Your eyes widened, and you laughed softly. “That would be weird,” you said, half-believing it. “Like, if I did jerk one of you off, that leaves one of you just watching.”
You glanced at Art, who looked just as interested as Patrick did, and your heart stammered nervously. “What if I show you how you do it on Art? Look at him— he’s the perfect little practice dummy.” Patrick reached over, pinching at Art’s cheek until the blond kicked his shin.
“Show me?” You echoed. “Like… you’re going to do it to him, and I do it to you?”
Patrick nodded, leaning into Art’s side, his smarmy smile dissolved into something needier. Art swallowed hard, lips parted slightly as he looked over at Patrick.
Patrick’s lips met his slowly, hungrily. You watched wide eyed as Patrick deepened the kiss, as Art eagerly accepted the other boy’s tongue into his mouth.
Patrick threw the pillow out of Art’s lap and sent it careening into the desk on the opposite side of the room. Your eyes widened at the sight of Art, hard and tenting his boxers. Patrick palmed him in his large hands making the blonde whimper into his mouth and buck up, seeking friction.
You swallowed hard, biting down on the straw as you watched Patrick tug at the elastic of Art’s boxers. Art lifted his hips to allow Patrick to tug them down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock to both of you.
“See,” Patrick gasped, leaning back from their kiss. Art chased his lips fruitlessly, mouth ajar, waiting for more. “He’s so fucking easy. Come feel.”
You moved closer, looking at Art for permission. When he nodded, you reached out, letting your fingertips graze the soft skin of his shaft. He exhaled a shuddery breath, eyes fluttering shut. Patrick’s hand covered yours, guiding you to squeeze around his length.
He was warm under your touch, silky soft, pulsing in your grip. Your heart hammered just at that— at the feel of him in your hand. “Feels nice, huh? Knowing how much he wants you.” You nodded, then slid your fist up, testing the waters. Art moaned softly, throbbed in your grip, aching for more. Patrick smiled like the cat who got the cream. “Hands off, just watch me.”
Patrick spat into his hand and replaced your hand with his own. The second Patrick curled his fingers around Art and started stroking him slowly, the blond was mewling for more. “Fuck,” he moaned, his forehead knocking against Patrick’s, mouth open, panting. “That’s good, feels good.”
You watched Patrick rub his thumb over Art’s tip, eyes widening as Art really whimpered for it, hips thrusting up into Patrick’s fist, chasing more of the pleasure the brunet offered.
“You get it now?” Patrick asked. You nodded quickly, and he tugged down his own boxers. “Fuck, okay— fucking show me.”
Your heart hammered with nerves, but you nodded. You held your hand out and spit into it, mimicking what Patrick had done before you wrapped your hand around his cock.
He felt bigger in your hands, but you didn’t say that. One, you worried it might piss Art off, and two, he didn’t need the ego boost. And he was slick, beading precum at his tip so each pass of your hands felt slicker and slicker.
And you couldn’t help but want to be an asshole. “You’re wet like a girl,” you said with a smirk, gliding your thumb over his tip.
And he was shameless, nodding with a sly grin. “That means I like you.” He panted, moaning softly. “Besides, I bet your fucking panties aren’t dry right now.”
Well, fuck. You tried to ignore the rush of heat in your belly that those words caused, to focus only on the glide of your hand on Patrick’s cock— up and down, copying his pace on Art, copying the ways he’d squeeze and twist his hand.
Art was moaning, rutting up into the tight sheath of Patrick’s fist, the muscles of his abdomen tensing and relaxing in unsteady jerks beneath his soft skin.
“Fuck— switch, switch,” Patrick said quickly. Art whined when Patrick stopped touching him, but it was ignored. “Want you to feel it when he comes.”
He guided your hand back onto Art’s cock and nodded for you to move. “Fuck, your hand’s so soft,” Art groaned. “Faster, faster, fuck—“ He was practically begging. You swallowed, increased the pace, squeezed him a little tighter.
Art was touching Patrick— jerking him off while you brought him closer and closer to finishing. Patrick leaned in, kissed you deeply, pulled Art in too until the three of you were a mess of tongues and lips and spit and hands.
Art came first— coating your hand in warm, slick cum, throbbing in your grip. He was panting into your and Patrick’s mouths, moaning softly as you continued to slowly work him through it. Patrick came next, once Art redoubled his effort, focused on making Patrick add to the mess covering your hands.
Patrick was loud, pornographic, messy. Art brought a cum covered hand between his lips, cleaning it up. Your eyes widened.
“Art, c’mon, you’re scandalizing her,” Patrick said, like you weren’t even there.
“Shut up,” you said, shoving him. He laughed and pulled his boxers back up. Art followed suit, and the three of you were left gross and sweating in the heat. You wiped your hand off on one of their discarded shirts and gave a sheepish smile.
They sat there, expectantly. Waiting for you to make the next call. There was a level of want in you, need, but the thought of asking for them to take care of it was mortifying. “Do you want to watch a movie or something now?”
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parfaitblogs · 1 month
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guess ❀ s. reid x reader
in which spencer really likes changing the way in which he wakes you up. 
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: smut (18+ mdni) tags: soft dom!spencer. oral (f receiving). spencer bought the underwear r is reading (it's described). very brief nipple stuff bc i hate writing that word xoxo. healthy sex discussion midway through!! communication yippee!! desired somnophilia (it doesn't actually happen). fingering. spencer's a little shit (who's surprised). not proofread!  word count: 2.5k a/n: the lacy black pair with the little bows 💃💃 the ones i picked out for you in tokyo 💃💃💃imagining s13 spencer specifically in that episode he has his firearms exam. u know the one mhm mhm! 
You were indescribably pretty, in Spencer Reid's very professional opinion.
In every form. Even your sickest, most disgusting form — according to you — when you had gastroenteritis that one time after being away on holiday. You were pretty when you dressed up for a date with him or drinks with your friends. When you had just gotten out of the shower and had wet hair and were wearing your pyjamas (either being a matching set or one of his stolen t-shirts). And, his most recent obsession; while you were sleeping. 
Which might be sick in some way shape or form. How much he liked watching you while you slept. The rise and fall of your chest, the blankets bunched up and falling just below your hips — showing the skin of your legs, because the weather was warm and Spencer's apartment was always warmer. 
Yes, it probably is sick. But it's not like he did anything about it. In fact, he usually just watched you until the clock ticked to a time he deemed unreasonable to still be in bed, and he got up and went on about his day (thinking about you the entire time, of course). 
But it was a Sunday, and you had made him promise to be there when you woke up that morning; too sick of finding him out in the kitchen already showered and making food. When all you wanted was to lie in bed for — at least — an hour with him before your days began. 
Your rule was probably the only reason Spencer's mind wandered away from their usual thoughts about you in the morning. But he also wanted to blame it on the fact that your hair was freshly washed and his sheets now smelled of your shampoo, and your legs brushed against his own so many times he thought you might be awake already. 
You were just so, so pretty. And his shirt on you had risen just the right amount, your stomach peeking through, and really, Spencer should not be held accountable for any of his actions that morning. He was but a man, at the end of the day. 
Despite everything he wanted to do to you, he was still a gentleman, and this was a boundary of consent you were yet to cross together. Hence; the arm snaking around your waist, pulling you into him, and the kisses he had begun leaving along your cheek, jawline and neck, hoping to coax you awake, gently. 
Hope that had been answered, because he heard you groan quietly beneath him — the sound, embarrassingly so, shooting straight to the pit of his stomach like he was a teenager. But you were awake. 
"Good morning to you too," you had murmured, voice riddled with morning husk and a layer of exhaustion no doubt still there. 
"Morning, honey," he answered, lifting his face from your neck to your own face, lips twitching a little as you blinked your eyes open. He was quick with it, connecting his lips to yours and eliciting a quiet squeak from you, which simply had him smiling. 
"I have morning breath," you said, though both of you knew he could not care less. He never did, which was almost laughable for a man with such a big phobia of germs. 
"I'll need to brush my teeth after this too, anyways," he had replied, and your stomach flipped in the best way possible. 
"What's this?" 
"Hopefully," he began, placing one last peck to the corner of your mouth, before he shifted your bodies enough so he could trail kisses down to your peeking collarbone. "You'll like it."
"Promise?" you asked him as he hooked fingers beneath his t-shirt, eyes searching yours for approval, before he pushed it up and over your chest.
"Promise," he said with a confirming hum, trailing kisses down your sternum, before kissing back up and taking a nipple into his mouth. 
He decided he liked you like this; still waking up, too out of it to properly silence yourself the way he knew you would if you were in any fully conscious state of mind. It was arguably his least favourite trait of yours — how much you hid when all he wanted was to hear every little noise you made (a thought that shocked him too, the first time he thought it). 
But your back arched and barely functioning limbs pressed down against the mattress when you mewled, and it was beautiful and he was repeating the motion of his tongue flicking over your nipple once, then twice, just to hear it again. 
He smiled at your breathless whimper of his name when he detached his mouth, a hand dropping to your hip and rubbing gentle circles into it. 
"So impatient when you're tired," he murmured, almost scoldingly, gaze flickering up to catch your expression. Not that there was much to look at — you were watching him through half-shut eyelids, lips pulled into a content smile. He moved his head to take the other nipple into his mouth. Goosebumps rose on your skin, and so he comforted the other (now neglected) peak with his thumb. 
But, he was a man on a mission. And so despite how much he wanted to tease you, he had other, far more exciting plans for you. 
Lips kissed down your stomach, stubble scratching delicately at your skin, making you squirm and evoking a hum from Spencer, who glanced up at you with an arched brow. 
"Stubble," you explained, almost breathlessly, and his lips pulled into a smile in acknowledgement. Which was sweet. 
What wasn't sweet was the way he grasped your hips between his hands and pushed them into the mattress and said, in his (incredibly arousing) low voice, "Need you to keep still for me."
"You don't want my hips punching you in the face?" you asked. He laughed at that — it had happened one time. 
"If I can help it, no," he punctuated his sentence with his fingers squeezing your left hip, and you only hummed in response. Then, "Aren't these the ones I bought for you?"
You looked down, and his fingers were hooked under the waistband of your underwear, black bows resting on either side and flipped up on his fingers. 
"Uh... yeah. I must've put them on by mistake last night," you told him, and his eyebrows only rose. "What?"
"By mistake?" he mused, one of his hands letting go of the waistband to trace his knuckle across the top and down over the centre of them, eliciting a shudder out of your lips. 
"I haven't done laundry?" you offered your second excuse. His bewilderment only deepened and he pulled his hand away from you.
"You wanna tell me the truth?"
Damn him. "Okay, so, I was planning on trying to do something with you last night. I did an everything shower and everything," very complex sentences you were creating, clearly. "But then I fell asleep."
"I see," he said, and amusement crossed his features. 
"I wear them all the time!" you protested. "They're comfortable. Also they're really pretty. You would know if you tried to have sex with me more often."
He laughed, only because he could see the faux pout on your lips, and he knew you weren't serious. "I already have sex with you a lot."
"Twice a week isn't a lot."
"I'd argue it is," he said, placing a kiss to the inner side of your thigh — the recognition of what position you two were in whilst having this conversation being somewhat jarring, but mostly humorous. "Do you want me to have sex with you more often?"
"If I say yes, will you?"
"I'll do whatever you want me to," he answered, hair tickling your skin as he tilted his head to the side, resting it on your thigh. 
"Then yes," you breathed out. 
"Okay," he nodded his head, picking it back up to refocus on his task at hand. "Can I take this underwear that you apparently wear all the time off now?"
"Yeah."
Even in the warmth of his apartment, you shivered when he tugged the black lace down — with some resistance he no doubt expected, but still reacted to with a barely audible hiss. You smiled at that.
"So pretty," he murmured, like it was the first time he was ever seeing you. 
He met your eyes one last time, and you watched that stupidly gorgeous smile stretch across his lips, before he was leaning forwards and licking a stripe down the centre, eliciting a breathy whine from your lips. 
He was painfully good at this — a fact that popped into your head every single time he had his mouth on you. You wondered if he was simply born with the knowledge of your body already catalogued in his brain, because even the first time he ate you out, you were immobile for thirty minutes (though, he did make you come four times at once, so maybe it was that). 
"Angel," you felt a nip on your thigh, and your head snapped down, eyebrows furrowing when you met Spencer's gaze. "Focus on me."
"I am," you huffed in response.
"Really?"
In theory, yes. You were thinking about him. Just a distant, past him. 
"Am I boring you already?" 
"Maybe. You might wanna speed up," you replied, always taking the opportunity to have some form of attitude towards him. 
"I miss when you were half-asleep," he sighed, but he gave you what you wanted regardless. 
Lips attached to your clit and his tongue flicked over it, and any retort you had died on your tongue. He liked to shut you up this way, it seemed. Hands that were still holding your hips pushed you into the mattress instinctively, having premeditated the bucking of them. A whimper escaped you when he sucked, head pressing down into the pillow beneath it, and you could feel the muscles of his face move as he smiled against you. 
He always ate you out like he was starved, and if you didn't know better, you'd think he was. He was almost pathetically down bad for you when he was horny, though, and even if you were promising him pleasure, his mouth would find its way to you no matter what. Something about being a service dom or whatever. He had told you about it one time while he was knuckle deep in you, and you clearly didn't retain much in that state. 
"Oh," you breathed out when he dropped his head lower, his tongue circling your entrance, nose bumping your clit. 
You could feel his eyes on you when he flattened his tongue, watching every micro expression you made. 
Now, Spencer Reid was never smug about his knowledge. All those memories and his ability to quote just about anything at the drop of a hat and he never bragged about it. But knowing you? That he could brag about for hours and then some. Because truly, he knew you.
He knew he could make you come just like this; obscenely eating you out. In fact, it was quite easy to. But he found no fun in giving you what you were expecting. It was the only reason he was returning his lips to your clit, a hand dropping down from your hip, sliding over the skin of your thigh, before brushing through your folds, teasingly. 
"Spencer."
He repeated your name in the same whiny tone of voice as your own, mockingly so, and if you weren't so hellbent on reaching an orgasm, you probably would've kicked him.
A finger pushed into you embarrassingly easily, and you moaned, louder than you had yet that morning, which he knew. 
Indecent sounds left your lips continuously, and you eventually stopped fighting them. Much to his satisfaction, clearly, because he had curled his finger in just the right way at the same time he sucked on your clit and you were crying out and hands that had otherwise been heavy on the mattress were flying to his hair. 
You felt and heard him laugh at your reaction, only for him to do it again before you could argue. 
"Fuck, Spencer." 
"I know," he said, lifting his eyes back up to meet yours, twisting his finger and flicking his tongue over your clit. "Taste so good, angel. Could stay here for hours, you know?" You did know. He probably would, unless you had a mass protest to hold. 
"Please," you gasped out, pathetically so.
"Please what?" he mused. 
You opened your mouth to respond, but he chose that exact moment to push another finger into you, cutting any sentences you had off with a moan. 
"You've gotta use your words, sweet girl." You shot a glare at him, and he barked out a laugh. "Okay, okay. Sorry."
He was sorry, because he resumed his ministrations without so much of a delay, both fingers pushing in and out of you, filling the air with vulgar wet sounds to accompany your gasps and moans. 
You moaned his name again, and he mumbled another gentle, "Yeah?"
"Wanna come," you said.
"I know," he said, voice oh so soft, juxtaposing his every action. "Are you asking me or telling me?"
"Telling," you replied, almost huffily, and he laughed, increasing the pace of his fingers only slightly. 
"You don't wanna ask me?"
"Do I need to?"
"Maybe you should start."
"Spencer."
He laughed again, and you felt him nod his head against you. "Okay, okay. Making you come. Relax, sweet girl."
Arguably, you were the most relaxed you could possibly be. But you no longer had enough fight in you to argue, because he was rutting the tips of his fingers up against that spot inside you, and his tongue was moving faster, and you were gone; seeing stars. 
Maybe one thing he loved more than eating you out, was making you orgasm from eating you out. The way your fingers that almost always ended up in his hair scratched at his scalp, your thighs clenching around his head just enough that he had an excuse to pin them open, your voice going breathless and high-pitched. He had watched and felt it happen so many times it was burned into his memory, and yet he was still in awe of you regardless. 
Coaxing you through it and teetering on the edge of overstimulation was another bonus, because your breathless moans turned into whines and you always, always tried to escape him, and he got to remind you how much stronger he was, arms hooking under your thighs and tugging you closer. 
"Spencer," you whimpered. "No more. Please."
That was his cue to stop, and he pulled back, lips upturned in a lovesick grin as he looked up at you, face glistening. 
He pecked up your body until he had reached your face, and then he was kissing you again, regardless of the remnants of your release covering his skin. 
"Did so good. You're always so perfect for me, sweet girl," he murmured against your lips, swallowing your quiet whines. 
"Love you," you managed to mumble out, and he smiled against the cheek he was now kissing. 
"Love you too."
your reblogs and replies are always appreciated dearly ♡
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yzzart · 3 months
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୭˚. ᵎᵎ content warnings: F!reader, 18+, NSFW, p in v, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise kink, lovesick & possessive!kenji, reader wearing Ken's shirt, petnames, explicit words, explicit content.
୭˚. ᵎᵎ word count: 990!
Kenji loved it when you wore his t-shirts.
During his matches, among the euphoric, enthusiastic and hopeful stands, joining the wave of the crowd, which had an unusual spirit, he saw you wearing one of the countless t-shirts, which contained his name and number, — shouting for the team and for him — encouraged, even more, Kenji.
And every time you hit successfully and triumphantly, you turned around, pointed to the name written on your back, and shouted "that's my player!" — Oh, Kenji could fall even more in love with you, and he didn't know it was possible.
So, like, he appreciated all the photos the media posted, commented on, mentioned of you together, post-game, and the highlight, in Ken's eyes, was, again, the shirt you were wearing. — Sometimes, it was a shirt, correctly, in your size or one of thousands of his, it didn't matter.
But, nothing, faithfully, could be compared to the immoderate, cunning, contemplation that Kenji experienced when he saw you wearing one of his t-shirts, always when he felt like it, wanting to feel as comfortable as possible. — This was already considered routine. — Out of pure irony and contradiction, when they sounded like unreality, they seemed like they were made for you, he thought.
The huge, made of rich and enhanced tissues, mentioning the values ​​it cost, and formidably showy Kenji T-shirts similar species of dresses on your body; making it fully, fascinating and so captivating. — And, noting comfort, you used only underwear under the dress; it was not even appeared, obviously.
And that, maddeningly, drove Kenji's mind crazy. — Disturbing him, without being able, nor having the opportunity, to concentrate on certain, and reasonable, things in front of his head; without caring about the impolite and indecent looks, after all, he had something better to consider, Sato fixed his eyes on your thighs. — He had his weak point.
And always in the morning, a little disoriented, missing you and, exaggeratedly, tired, with his physical and mental state set back because of the necessary appearance of Ultraman against yet another Kaiju, — upon returning home, he collapsed into your arms and caresses — Kenji found you in the kitchen; preparing something, humming and, softly, serene. — Of course, wearing one of his shirts. — Approaching, with heavy and slow steps, his muscular and vigorous arms snaked around your waist, holding you firmly.
It didn't take you by surprise, clearly, used to his warm welcome; it was clear that the warmth of his affection and comfort was valued. — Also, given the way Kenji needed your touch or, at least, your presence.
Saying "good morning, dear" and waiting to question him about how he slept; in response, the eldest caressed your neck with his nose, inhaling your pleasant and delicious smell, mixed with the fragrance of his perfume, that was stuck to his shirt, and let out a bitter sigh; perhaps, a little libidinous. — No, actually, it was definitely lewd.
Leaving you without an answer, and with a hint of concern, and intending to turn towards him, in an instant, hurriedly, Sato pulled your waist, and reading your thought, turned you around, facing the boy's exposed chest, and he threw you onto his shoulder with ease. — He didn't hear, he ignored, your cry of surprise, and headed towards the bedroom.
And, evidently, today, at this exact moment, it couldn't be any different.
"Holy shit." — Kenji swore, in a mixture of drowsiness and excitement, intoxicated by your scent, something that is deadly addictive. His breathing was rough, dull, so sudden. — "Ah, but you're so cute, aren't you?" — A question asked in a filthy way, with a slutty and breathless laugh, he couldn't help himself. — “My dirty girl, huh?”
Spread out on the bed, between pure silk and white sheets, surrendering yourself, giving in fragility and voluptuousness, deliciously, to your boyfriend; being completely filled by him and feeling insane waves of excitement. — The intense, and so delicious, inversions that you received left you crazy and, satisfactorily, even more, immoral. — And, making it even more interesting, at the same time, without surprises, Kenji's white shirt was on your body.
Buried in your pussy, compromising, bitingly, between the heat and tightness of your walls, which sucked his cock, and causing obscene noises and noises, wet by the room's environment, Kenji left himself thinking that you would be the death of him. — He choked, growled, when he felt another tightness coming from your little hole. — It was so erotic, so carnal, so fucking good.
"K-Ken..ji." — You stammered, you didn't even know how to pronounce his name correctly, and you were so breathless, desperate as you felt him insert his dick into you; cried out to him, pathetically.
"I love it when you wear my clothes." — He traced a line down your neck with his tongue, laughing with lust and sensuality, losing herself in pleasure once again. — "And i love fucking you while wearing them." — He articulated, listening to the wet noises of his heavy balls against your ass, and looking at your face, with a fucked and desired expression, with some tears on your cheek.
Your moans, pleas ran through Kenji's ear, and settled in his mind, equally, with screams, so thin that they seemed like meows, every time his robust cock reached that little spot that only he could and loved to reach; causing your nails to dig into his burly back, scratching him. — His beautiful little girl was still conscious of marking him, Sato laughed at the thought.
Every now and then, Kenji would move away from your neck, and, surprisingly, you would sob when you felt his brief absence, and his eyes, heavy with lust and appetite, would look at the connection between you and, pulling your hips and pushing, again, he had the sinful, and deadly, privilege of seeing your pussy swallowing his cock with pleasure. — Oh, even his eyes closed, sharply and rudely.
Kenji loved it when you wore his t-shirts.
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milla-frenchy · 1 month
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Push it
3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist
Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little
Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie
a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏
@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶
dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏
The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage 
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Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.
“Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.
“What?” your father asked.
“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”
“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”
“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”
You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.
You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game. 
Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.
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Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.
“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”
“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”
But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”
“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”
“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.
“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.
You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his black t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.
“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”
“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”
“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”
You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were. 
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Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.
“What's the problem with the internet?”
“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.
“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”
“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”
You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.
“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”
You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.
“Joel…,” you whimpered.
“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”
He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.
“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.
You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.
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“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.
“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”
You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.
When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.
“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.
The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.
His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first. 
When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.
Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.
He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb. 
Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.
But he cared.
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You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it. 
His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.
“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”
His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.
“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”
“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”
“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”
You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.
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Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.
“What’s wrong with you?”
You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.
“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”
You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.
So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.
And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.
It was the only way for you to come.
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When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down. 
“I’m taking you back home. Now.”
“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”
“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.
“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”
You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.
“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.
“Joel…”
“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”
You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.
“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.
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When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.
“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.
“No. No I didn't.”
“He fucked you?”
“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.
“Yeah,” you confirmed.
“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”
“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”
“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”
If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.
You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.
“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”
“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.
“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.
He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.
“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”
“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.
“Was he good at it?”
“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”
He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.
“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.
You lowered your head before answering.
“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”
“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”
This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.
He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.
He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.
“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”
“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”
“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.
“Repeat it.”
“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”
“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”
Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.
“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”
“I… no, I… fuck…”
“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”
“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”
“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly. 
“My… my man?”
He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.
“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”
You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.
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When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.
He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.
“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.
“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.
“Jesus…”
Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.
“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.
“Joel!!!”
“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”
“J… Joel…”
“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”
“Yours.”
A second spank landed on your already red skin.
“Say it again.”
“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”
A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.
“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”
You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.
“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”
He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.
Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.
“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.
“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”
“Yeah… got it.”
You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.
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dilf-c0nn0isseur · 2 months
Text
Guilty As Sin - Logan Howlett x fem!reader
WARNING! MDNI! includes: age gap(legal!), oral(fem!receiving), p in v penetration & ejaculation, just a lot of smut tbh
word count: 5,094
a/n: i imagined x-men 2000s logan while writing this, ik the timelines kinda fucked but i love writing him like that so.
You had heard of Logan, or what he was better known as, ‘Wolverine.’ Anything you knew of him though was what you had heard during your time at the mansion where you attended Xavier’s school for the gifted. Your studies were short, as you had only attended the year you were set to graduate. Your mutant genes had manifested themselves slightly later than others. Now, a few years graduated, you had found a permanent residence at the mansion as a member of the X-Men. 
You had not once met this man that everyone spoke of, but word amongst the mansion’s occupants suggested that he had gone off on his own for the last couple years. From what you’d gathered, he seemed to do just fine by himself.
After his rather drawn-out absence, Logan finally found himself back at the mansion. He was not troubled by the lack of company over his time away, but some part rooted deep down in him missed the sense of community this place provided. This was something he kept to himself. Vulnerability was not his style. His return was completely unannounced, but word quickly spread. Your curiosity to see Wolverine in the flesh was what brought you downstairs from your room, now leaning against a door frame to catch a glimpse of him without drawing attention towards yourself.
Your eyes focused on him as he pulled back from a welcome embrace with a member of the team, greeting his colleagues that he couldn’t have helped but missed while away. He sported an old, faded brown leather jacket that he unzipped to reveal a black t-shirt. You let your gaze wander to where his shirt was tucked into a pair of dark-wash bootcut jeans, a matching leather belt looped through the holes. 
Then you realized how tall he was in comparison to those that stood around him. He practically towered over the crowd that formed around him. Just his presence took up space. He brought up a large hand to his dark hair and ran his fingers through it.
God, his fingers are long.
From that moment forward, you were irrevocably captivated by him. 
No doubt he was much older than you. It was obvious in his appearance, the way he carried himself, his cadence. This fact did nothing but fuel your fixation. And so, you began on your attempts at his attention.
That afternoon, a few hours after his arrival, Logan had settled back in. He was content with returning back to his room, a space that was uniquely his. He got to work at unpacking the duffel bag that he had brought with him. There was not much to put away since he packed light. Everything he needed could often be easily found wherever he found himself escaping to. His travels had left him exhausted though, and he craved a glass of whiskey.
Logan made his way down to the kitchen, where unbeknownst to him, you had been waiting, expecting this to be the place that you two would be likely to cross paths for the first time. When his large frame appeared in the entrance to the kitchen, your eyes fluttered up, this time taking in his appearance much closer. Your stake-out at the table, however boring, was worth it. 
He didn’t notice you right away. He moved swiftly to the bar, set on getting his drink. You watched as the tall, burly man located the whiskey and poured the amber liquid into a small glass. The proportion of his hands around the drink really put it into perspective just how large he was. How much larger than you he was.
You had to get his attention before he retreated back to his room. Sure, you may have spared the dignity to sit and wait for him to coincidentally walk into the kitchen, but following him? Too much.
“Hey.”
Your voiced appeared suddenly from behind him and caused him to slam his glass against the counter. He whipped around to see you, sitting at the table, arms folded across the wood in front of you. 
“Shit, kid, can’t just sneak up on me like that,” he cursed. His fingers flew to the bridge of his nose and pinched it.
His use of the word ‘kid’ to address you should have annoyed you, but had the opposite effect. It reinforced that tempting age gap between the two of you.
“Sorry,” you apologized with a sheepish grin. “Logan, right?”
You had to play it off cool, casual, as if you didn’t know exactly who he was.
“That’s me.” He took a swig of his whiskey, the familiar burn against his throat soothing him from the surprise you just gave him. “Haven’t seen you around before,” he said after swallowing. “You are..?”
You introduced yourself. “I started here after you left. Heard a lot about you, though.”
“Oh, yeah?” Logan tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. “Good things, I hope.”
You could tell he was more relaxed now, analyzing the way he leaned back against the counter, one hand propped behind him, the other holding his glass. “For sure. Heard all about your mutation. Pretty scary,” you said with a gesture to his hands. “But cool.”
As much as you were checking him out, Logan also examined you subtly, without you noticing. You looked young. Hell, a lot younger than him. But he could tell by the way you radiated comfort where you were that you were at least a couple years graduated. Most of the kids enrolled in classes were hesitant, not yet confident in their place at the mansion.
“Do they hurt?”
Your question brought him out of his thoughts. He nodded with his lips pressed to his glass again, setting it down as he finished it off. “Definitely took some getting used to.”
You were surprised at how casual he was. You didn’t really have an idea of how he was in person, but this wasn’t exactly what you expected. 
He caught you staring, noticing the slight look of confusion etched on your face. “Kid?,” he prompted. There it was, that nickname again.
“Shit, sorry. You’re just different than how I pictured you.”
A look of amusement appeared on Logan’s face. “Pictured me, huh?”
His words almost sounded suggestive. Was that how he meant to come across? Whatever the intention, you continued. 
“Kinda got the idea you were mean and scary,” you said in a teasing manner. “But you’re actually not too bad.”
“Mean and scary,” he repeated your words with a chuckle. “I guess there’s a time and place for that.”
His reciprocated banter made your confidence grow. He watched you carefully as you stood up from the table, closing the distance between the two of you and settling beside him against the counter. You reached for his hand that was placed against the cool countertop behind him, brushing your fingers against his knuckles. The difference between the sizes of your hands made your stomach turn. “Can you show me?,” your question insinuating his sheathed claws.
Logan was aware of the game you were playing now. His heightened sense of smell picked up the soft, aroused heat that now radiated off of you. The smell wafted up his nose and his grip on the countertop tightened below your hand that now rested on his. Your touch on his hand, your advancement, it turned him on in a way that made him feel almost perverted. You were so young, your experience had to be almost nothing compared to his. He had years- no, centuries on you. This was wrong. It was his job to stop it before it escalated. If someone were to walk in on the two of you right now, he could only imagine what they would think. 
Coming into his senses, Logan shifted away from you, reestablishing distance between your bodies. His hand slid out from under yours. 
“Another time,” he said, focusing his attention on turning to the sink and rinsing out his whiskey glass.
His change in demeanor puzzled you. You stared at his back, his muscles flexing underneath the white tank he was wearing as he placed the clean glass back into the cupboard above him. You wondered why his tone changed so suddenly. You pushed. “C’mon, just-“
“It’s getting late,” he interrupted you, now moving towards the hall to exit before this could go further. Before he let this go further. There was a tinge of annoyance lacing his words. “I’m heading to bed, and you should too.” 
His exit was abrupt, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen, replaying the interaction. You tried to understand his switch. If Logan was hesitant to make a move on you because of the gap between your ages, you were determined to convince him otherwise, show him that you yearned for a man like him. Someone who could really take care of you.
◆:*:◇:*:◆:*:◇:*:◆
The next day passed with no sign of Logan around the mansion. You had even repeated your camp out in the kitchen for a little while, but left only further disappointed when he never showed. At some point, you retreated to your room and took a nap out of pure boredom. This ‘nap’ turned into a 4 hour slumber that you awoke from feeling disoriented and groggy, surprised to see that the clock on your nightstand read 11:47 P.M. You forced yourself out of bed and into a change of comfier clothes than what you had fallen asleep in, and headed downstairs to the lounge for a change of scenery.
Expecting it to be empty because of the late hour, you were more than pleasantly surprised to see Logan sitting in one of the leather recliners, his arm draped lazily over the side with a half-smoked cigar dangling between his fingers. You paused in the doorway for a second as his attention was drawn to you.
“What’re you doing up?”
His question almost seemed accusatory. He narrowed his eyes at your shirt, some band he had never heard of. The collar was stretched and hung off one shoulder, revealing your prominent collarbone and bare neck. His eyes dragged slowly down your torso to your exposed legs. The shorts you were wearing were covered by the excessive length of the t-shirt. Were you even wearing shorts? Underwear? Wonder what color underwear. Logan’s mind clouded with questions that forced his gaze to the fireplace crackling in front of him, distracting himself with a long drag of his cigar.
You noticed the way he examined you. His prolonged stare, the way his eyes fell down, and then away in realization of his obvious staring. 
“Just woke up from a nap,” you admitted. 
His body tensed as you finally made your way in and sat on one of the couches next to him. “What are you doing up?”
He blew out one last trail of smoke and then put his cigar out on the ashtray that sat on the table in-between the couches you sat on. “Was just leaving.”
Logan’s rushed attempt at escape made you furrow your brow. You couldn’t let him slip away like he did the other night. 
“What’s with you?,” you confronted him. His face wrinkled, a look that portrayed his shock that you would question him like that. “Whad’ya mean ‘what’s with you’?,” he shot back. You rolled your eyes as you gestured to him, standing up and trying to make a break for the door. 
“You acted just fine yesterday, and now you’re being all stand-offish and weird.”
God, the nerve of this kid, he thought to himself. Logan was always astonished with the younger generation not having a problem speaking their mind. Instead of letting him answer, you pushed it yet again. “Can’t help but think I make you nervous.”
“Nervous? The fuck do you mean nervous?,” he spat, offended. His chest heaved underneath his snug black shirt. You stood up as a way to try and level with him. This was a silly move, because he still towered over your much smaller figure.
“I think,” you started, words insinuating, “that you don’t know what do with a girl, so much younger than you, hitting on you.”
Your blatant admittance of the situation made his eyes widen, momentarily stunned. He quickly regained his conscious and scoffed, still dancing around the accusation you just threw at him. “First off, you don’t make me nervous,” Logan said, staring down at you with his eyes slightly squinted in annoyance. “And second, kid, I know what I’m doing.”
His words were sharp, biting. His attempt to diminish you with youthful nicknames was mute. You took it as a challenge, and the insult went straight to your core, causing a wet pool to form between your legs.
“Doesn’t seem like it,” you snipped. 
He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaled. “You’re too young.”
There it was. You had finally gotten him to voice his concern, the reason he had given you the cold shoulder.
“I’m an adult, Logan,” you said with a step forward, that gap between you getting smaller. His breath hitched in his throat at your new advancement. “You can argue with me all you want, but the bulge in you pants is very condescending.” Your eyes flicked down to his crotch and then back up to his, a playful ‘gotcha’ smirk now on your lips.
He was now fully aware of the growing hard-on against his thigh and choked on the breath he had just inhaled. You swear you could hear him mutter a ‘fuck’ under his breath. He wanted to give in, he wanted to throw you on the couch and take you right there, but he was still held back by some guilty conscious in his mind, convinced he was too old for a girl like you. “I’m too old for you, kid.” A final attempt at calling your bluff, seeing if you would suddenly realize your desire to get with him was just a silly fantasy. You could sense his guard coming down. 
“Am I gonna have to make a move on you first?”
Logan’s eyes narrowed in on yours and his lips pursed together. Your question was not answered with words, but with a tempting look, like he was daring you to act on your words. 
With one more step, you closed the gap between your bodies, a hand running up one of his muscular arms. You leaned up slightly on your tip-toes, your height difference still separating you from his lips. He didn’t move, expecting you to back out at any second, needing more reassurance that this is what you wanted.
Your hand found his shoulder, using it as leverage to lift yourself to meet his lips. They brushed softly and Logan struggled to maintain his self control. You felt a shaky breath escape his mouth and tickle yours. When he didn’t pull away, you pressed your lips firmly to his. This was the confirmation he needed and he gave in. 
His hands left their previous spot, frozen by his sides, and twisted around your back. He gripped your waist with his hands, pulling you tight against him. God, it felt so wrong, a woman as young as you wanting a man so far in age. His grip tightened and his tongue forced it’s way through your parted lips, running over your teeth and against your own tongue. When he felt a hand caress the bulge in his pants, he groaned into your mouth, the sound muffled by the fiery kiss. This felt so taboo. And maybe, that’s what he liked so much about it. 
Logan’s mouth left yours but quickly found your jaw, kissing it and licking a stripe all the way up to the spot just below your ear. He planted another sloppy kiss here before whispering, “my room?”
His invitation fueled the fire in your groin and you nodded desperately. “Yes, yes please,” you managed to gasp. 
The tall, burly man swooped you up in his arms with ease, your legs wrapping around his waist. He hoisted you up against him and you could feel his hard-on throbbing against your aching cunt. The contact made you grind your hips into him as he carried you to his room with urgent speed. You kissed his neck, his beard tickling your skin. The smell of whiskey and cigar smoke clouded your senses, paired with an underlying musk that was unique to only Logan.
One of Logan’s hands, still holding onto you, grabbed the door handle to his room and twisted it, kicking it all the way open with his boot. Once he spun the two of you inside, he rushed to kick it closed again. His room smelled even more like him. 
He found your lips again in desperation as he leaned down and placed you gently on his bed. He remained on the floor in front of you, kneeling slightly to trail kisses down your neck. One of his hands slid up your bare leg, creeping up your thigh until he was met with the hem of your way-too-short shorts.
“Wore these to get my attention, Bub?,” he muttered against your neck in-between wet kisses. He zoned in on one spot and sucked the soft skin between his teeth, a maroon bruise forming under his lips. You inhaled a sharp breath. “Walking around here in practically nothing, that’s how bad you wanted this?” His voice was carnal, a seductive growl.
“God, yes, so bad.” Your words were incoherent, your inability to form a complete sentence showing how much of a mess Logan had you already.
His curious hand continued it’s trek over your shorts, fingers curling under the waist band and tugging slightly. He waited for you to object, and when there was none, he pulled them down to where they pooled around your ankles. You hurriedly kicked them off to the floor next to him. Logan pulled back from your neck and took in the sight between your legs, the pair of lacy red panties that were damp with your arousal. You felt your face heat up as he drank you in. “Goddamn.”
He drew in a long breath through his nose to inhale your heated scent. He fell to his knees between your legs and began planting kisses against your thighs, inching up towards your center. “Logan, please,” you whimpered above him, entranced by the image of him between your legs. 
His eyes flicked up to meet yours as he placed a kiss against the fabric of your underwear. “You want this?”
“I want this so bad.”
Logan’s intense gaze never left yours as he pulled your panties to the side and let out a hot breath against your soaking wet core. “Holy shit doll,” he exclaimed at your arousal. Your bottom lip quivered with anticipation. 
When his lips made contact with your swollen clit, you threw your head back and moaned his name. Hearing his name on your lips sent waves of pleasure through his own body. Swiftly, he pulled your panties down and threw them to join your shorts on the floor. He reconnected with your clit quickly and sucked on it gently. You hissed through clenched teeth and your hand flew to the back of his head, gripping his hair in your fingers for support.
Logan’s hands found their way to your thighs and grabbed them, forcing them to stay apart for him despite your body’s instinct to close them due to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure between them. He licked a long, wet stripe up your folds back to your clit and lapped at it hungrily. Each flick of his tongue made your insides boil with arousal. His fingers dug into the soft, pillowy skin of your thighs and you were sure they were to leave bruises, a reminder of who was between them.
“Y’taste so good, sweetheart,” Logan mumbled against your pussy. The vibration of his words against you made goosebumps raise all over your body. 
“Wanted you so bad,” you rambled, “knew you could take care of me.”
“Is that right?”
His teasing remark made you clench around nothing. 
One of his calloused fingers traced intricate circles on the inside of your thigh, trailing down sensually before gliding back up. You felt his finger continue to dance softly around your upper thigh before you recognized the pattern. He was spelling out letters on your skin. 
‘M-I-N-E’
That act of claiming you, the writing it against your thigh, it made your stomach flip. “Oh my god,” you whispered.
Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his fingers that were just marking claim on your thigh found their way to your dripping pussy. One finger circled slowly around your entrance, the natural lubricant you had produced letting it slip inside. You gasped and arched your back towards the ceiling. “Fuck, Logan!”
His lips still working at your clit, he began pumping his finger in and out of you. “Feel good?,” he asked in a hushed, gravelly voice. You answered an immediate yes, wanting more. He sensed your craving and slipped a second finger in, earning a content sigh from you. 
Logan’s long fingers curled inside of you and brushed against the soft, spongy spot that made you cry out his name, along with other incoherent profanities. When he felt you began to clench around him, your hips bucking up off of his bed, he pulled his fingers out slowly. The emptiness from where he once occupied made you ache. You sat up, disappointed. “Logan-“
“I wanna feel you cum around my cock,” he interrupted. You watched in awe as he stood up, biceps flexing as he unhooked the belt around his waist. He slipped it through the loops of his jeans and let it fall to the floor. Your jaw dropped when he grabbed at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. His body was even better than you could ever possibly imagine. The definition of each of his abdominal muscles, toned and glistening. Your eyes followed the trail of dark hair that lead down under his jeans. Logan caught your shocked look. 
“Wait, kid, have you never-“
“Fuck, Logan, I’m not a virgin!” You almost laughed in surprise at his accusation.
“Y’sure?,” he cocked an eyebrow at you. “Cause you look lost.”
Your lips tilted in a downward smile, cheeks growing red. “I’m not a virgin. Just never been with anyone like you.”
His gaze softened and he shot you a small smile. “Ah,” he proclaimed. It was like he was self-aware of how perfect he was, you thought. “You wanna do this?”
You couldn’t believe he was asking again. “Trust me Logan,” you said slowly as you leaned forward, hands finding the button of his jeans. “I really wanna do this.”
His head fell back with a groan as you began pulling the zipper of his pants down, revealing the top of his boxers. You pulled them down to his thighs as he stepped out of his boots with a sharp stomp on the heel of each one. Once they were off, he let his jeans fall to his ankles and kicked them off to the side with the rest of your clothes. You tried not to show your astonishment at the size of his bulge, now even more prominent, tight against his thin boxers. 
‘How is that ever gonna fit inside of me?’
Logan smirked slightly at the look on your face and pulled down the last article of clothing that was separating him and nudity. 
You bit your lip as his cock sprung free, taking in the sight of it. It was fully erect, a single vein running along the underside where it met his soft pink tip that was leaking with pre-cum. Realizing that he was now fully nude, you pulled your shirt off slowly and let it fall off the bed. His eyes immediately dropped to your tits and his cock throbbed with need. His gaze swept up and down your whole body. “Fucking beautiful, sweetheart.”
His praise made you realize again how empty you felt without him inside of you. “I want you inside of me, Logan.”
He took his hard cock in his hand and pumped it softly, more pre-cum beading at the tip. “Lay down for me.”
You did exactly as he said and scooted up to the top of his bed, laying down with your head resting against his pillows. You could smell him even stronger here, the spot he sleeps every night. His scent flooded your senses and your eyes fluttered shut for a second, basking in it. You barely even noticed he was crawling atop of you until his hands were planted on either side of your head and his lips were back on your neck. Being caged underneath his much larger figure like this made you melt, a rag doll lying beneath him.
Logan nipped softly under your jaw, his sharp canines sending shock through your body. “Ready, Bub?,” he drawled against your skin. You nodded against the top of his head, your chest rising and falling with his.
He propped himself up above you with one muscular arm, the other moving to grip his cock and fix it against your entrance. You were practically leaking just at that. Your legs spread apart even further subconsciously, giving him more access. Both of your eyes were fixated on his cock as he began pushing inside of you, painfully slow. You gasped as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate him. A low groan fell from his lips as he continued pushing himself in, until he was halfway disappeared within your cunt. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered in his scratchy voice. 
Your hand snaked around the back of his neck, fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want all of you Logan, please,” you begged. He brought his hand that was wrapped around his cock back up to it’s spot beside your head. “I wanna give it all to you.”
You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled as you felt him pushing all the way inside of you, just what you had asked for. He bottomed out inside of you just as you felt the tip of his cock press against the spot that his fingers had just been curling into. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking big.”
His cock twitched at your words and he pulled out slowly before sheathing himself back inside you, warming you up to his thrusts. “So tight,” he grunted. You bucked your hips up into him, desperate for more. You knew how much he had to offer. As if reading your mind, Logan began building up to a steady pace, his thrusts making you rock against the bed frame. He watched as your breasts bounced softly with each thrust. His hands gripped the pillow next to your head and an animalistic sound built up in his throat- a growl.
“This what you wanted?,” he asked as his pace quickened. “Someone older who could fuck you right?”
His words went straight to your core where he was pounding into you. “Yes, fuck,” you gasped with a particularly deep thrust, “exactly what I wanted.” Your other hand flew to his back and you dug your nails in, leaving dark red marks that quickly healed over due to his regenerative cells. A guttural moan left him and he lifted one of your legs over his hip, pounding even deeper into your cunt. A sudden pressure on your clit made you realize his thumb was rubbing circles around it, increasing the pleasure. You were practically seeing stars at this point. 
The pressure in your stomach built up and you could feel that familiar knot begin to tighten, threatening to release at any moment. Logan felt you clench around his cock and sensed your nearing orgasm. “Finish for me baby, wanna feel you cum around my cock,” he coaxed. His pleading words made you squirm beneath him, now not even sure what words were leaving your mouth. 
With a deep, calculated thrust, you came undone around him. Your back arched up, tits pressing up against his firm chest. He continued his thrusts, praising you and brushing a thumb over your cheek. “Good girl, such a good fucking girl,” he said gingerly. “Look so pretty cumming around my cock.”
Your tightened grip around his cock as you came made him lose control of his steady pace, thrusts becoming quicker and more urgent. As you rode out your orgasm, he began to chase his. “Fuck, stay just like that,” he commanded while he worked towards his climax. Your body buzzed with overstimulation, but you took each thrust, eager to please. You thrust your hips up against his and he cursed, your compliancy sending him over the edge. “Where do you want-,” 
“Inside. Cum inside of me.”
Logan moaned, the sound bordering on a whine as he spilled himself inside of you, each last thrust forcing his cum deeper inside of your pussy. You pulled his body down against yours, craving the closeness as he finished. With one final thrust, his cum dripping outside of you and down onto the bed, he let out a long groan and let his head collapse against your chest. 
“That was the best anybody has ever fucked me.”
Your sudden, slurred words made Logan chuckle. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He placed a soft kiss in-between your breasts before pushing himself off the bed, going to grab a towel from his bathroom. He came back and parted your legs gently, cleaning you up with such care that made you wanna stay here, in his bed with him, forever. “Trust me, it can get better.” His eyes met yours from between your legs, still cleaning the mess the two of you had made. Your stomach fluttered. The insinuation that this was just the first time between you and him. That there would be more.
“I guess we’ll just have to see.”
Logan smiled at you before getting up once more to throw the towel into the bathroom and grab a shirt from his dresser. He crawled back into the bed next to you and lifted your arms up, sliding his shirt over your body. “Thanks,” you said softly, the fluttering feeling returning in your stomach.
“Course, Bub.” He pulled you into his arms as he laid down, nestling his head into the back of your neck.
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fairy-angel222 · 6 months
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𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 જ⁀⟡
You’re sat behind your desk, frames of your glasses sitting comfortably on the bridge of your nose as you type away. Humming softly the tune that had been stuck in your head. The ding of your phone pulls you out of your focus, your dnd being set for everyone except your mom and your boyfriend.
>>I’m horny, i need you so bad baby.
The message reads, accompanied by the attachment of Gojo’s bulge in his pants.
>>It’s all because i was thinking of you, don’t you feel bad?
You giggled with the shake of your head, leaning back into the softness of your office chair with your bottom lip between your teeth. Your fingers curled into the v cut of your blouse, undoing the first few buttons so that the swell of your breasts sat deliciously on display within its black lace. Pulling out your phone and snapping a photo with a sweet smile, the angle giving a view of everything down your shirt.
Sorry baby, work’s very busy right now.<<
You set the phone down with an accomplished smile, knowing that you would be fucked extra hard when you got home from work. With your shirt buttoned once more, you went back to your work. Fingers making quick work of the keys so you could finish as fast as possible.
A knock on your door made your head perk up. A kind “come in” being directed at the person behind the door.
“Miss, your husband is here. He says that it’s an emergency.” The intern informed, her cheeks bright red as she talked about your so called ‘husband’. Your eyes widened at Gojo’s persistence, standing up to make your way down to the main room.
“Um.. that’s not really necessary.” The girl smiled sheepishly, opening the door further to reveal none other than the tall white haired man who stood there with a grin. “Thanks sweetheart.” He winked at the girl, her heart clearly racing as she nodded and left.
“Hi baby, missed me?” Gojo teased excitedly, locking the door behind him before stalking up to your desk. “Cause i certainly missed you.” He groaned, dipping his head down to capture your lips hungry in a kiss. His hands roaming your body until they settled on your tits, squeezing them softly with a hum. “I love these so fucking much, you don’t know how much harder that picture made me.”
You moaned softly, your neck falling to the side to allow his mouth to trail down your neck. Your thighs already clenching when you felt your panties dampen. “You.. hmm.. y-you really came all the way here for this- ahh.” You tried to keep your composure, secretly happy that he was there to take care of the ache between your thighs that he caused.
“No baby i came to see you, this is just a bonus.” His lips met yours again, slender fingers working the buttons of your blouse to expose the bra that he got you last week. His mouth latching onto your nipples through the lacy fabric with a small moan of his own. Allowing his teeth to graze lightly over the perky bud.
You let out a breathy moan, hand tangling in his hair as he kissed down your stomach. Bunching your tight pencil skirt up to your hips before kissing up your thighs. Licking a teasing stripe up the matching lace panty.
“Been craving you all day.” He breathed, kissing your clit lightly before tugging the material out of your way. “Can’t wait to taste this sweet pussy of yours.”
Your hand flew to your mouth when Gojo latched onto you. His tongue skillfully lapping between your folds then swirling around your clit. His mouth never slowing as he messily licked at your wetness.
You couldn’t help the loud mewls spilling into your palm, back arching off your chair with a whimper. Your boyfriend’s tongue shooting intense pleasure straight to your stomach.
“Ahh— Satoru, s-so g-ood.” Your words came out as babbles, eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your hips onto his tongue. The mixture of your juices and his spit sloppily running down your skin as he ate you out. Large hands gripping your thighs tightly when you began to squirm, pleasurable tears welling in your eyes as you neared your orgasm.
Gojo smirked against you at the sweet noises that fell past your lips, burying himself nose deep into your pussy until his face glistened. Feeling his cock straining painfully in its confines.
“Toruu, fuck Toru ‘m so close.” You moaned, toes curling with a muffled cry as your legs began to shake. Letting go of the tight coil messily onto his awaiting tongue. Gojo groaned, the sound sending vibrations through your sensitive clit making your body jerk, your breathing heavy as you came down from your high.
“Pussy’s fucking perfect you know that?” He husked, giving it a small slap just to watch a shiver run through your body as you whined. Quickly freeing his cock before standing to his feet, hand finding your hair to pull you to him. “Have i ever told you how hot you are?” His tongue intertwined with yours so that you could taste the effect that he had on you.
Gojo pulled away, a lewd string of spit connecting your lips as he bent you over the desk. Wasting no time before collecting your slick with his reddened tip, prodding at your tight hole with his face in your neck. “Gonna fuck you so good baby. So so so fucking good.”
“Haah— o-oh fuck,” your body fell forward when Gojo thrusted into you, the stretch of his girth making you dizzy in the head as your hands gripped onto the desk’s edges.
“Nah baby, i want to feel you against me.” He grunted, pulling you up by your waist as he bottomed out. Your back rested on his chest as he began ramming up into you, heavy balls slapping your clit as cock fucked you deep. Kissing your g spot meanly with each thrust.
Your vision blurred, lips parted in a string of needy mewls as your head fell back onto his shoulder. Feeling his breath tickling your ear when he snaked his hand around your throat for his fingers to press on your lips. Easily slipping in and resting at the back of your tongue.
“Gotta be quiet f’ me yeah? As much as i’d love if you didn’t have to lift a finger i’m sure you love this job.” He grunted deeply, the sound of his hips snapping into your ass ringing through the office walls. You choked an agreeing cry, your mind going blank when he reached down to rub at your clit. “Such a dirty girl, letting me fuck you in your office.” He whispered darkly, lips ghosting over your cheek as he grinned from the corner of your eye. Speeding up his pace to one that always had you screaming.
Your body quivered, drooling messily onto his fingers as you babbled incoherently, your loud mewls barely audible in the heat of your approaching orgasm.
“Look at that. Gonna cum for me again hmm?” Gojo cooed, taking note of the way your eyes rolled back with every clench of your walls around his cock. “Gonna make a mess f’ me? Show me that both you and her wanted me as bad as i wanted you.” He gave an especially hard thrust to emphasize his point. His groans increasing in volume as his own thrusts got sloppy.
“That’s it baby. Let it all out.” You did as you were told, scream-like moan bubbling in your throat as your back arched, body shaking uncontrollably as you squirted hard. The mere force threatening to push Gojo’s cock out of you.
Gojo’s abs tensed, the feeling of your pussy’s tight embrace on his throbbing cock sending him over the edge with a cracked moan. “Fuck, you’re so h’hot when you cum. I’m gonna fill you up baby. Been horny for you all day.” Another high pitched moan. “Ahh f-fuckkk.”
Your boyfriend’s cum filled you in large spurts, being pumped so deep inside you that you could feel the increased load inside of you. You sighed with a shiver, his fingers retracting from your mouth and to his own. The man pulling out slowly to watch the thick substance leak out of your fluttering hole. He held you to his chest, both your chests heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. The silence being broken by Gojo’s hearty laugh. “I love you so fucking much.” Pressing a kiss to your forehead with a smile.
“Now.. you have your own bathroom in here right?” His eyes scanned the room, and you couldn’t help the laugh that you let out as reality struck him.
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cute-sucker · 3 months
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boxer!rafe holding his baby for the first time, and knowing him he made sure you had a private room and good food.
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tell me why he would be so jittery though ??
୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀 ୭ 🧷 ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ 🎀
boxer!rafe never had gotten as scared as he did when you had given birth.
waiting. rafe had been waiting for hours, holding a lucky charm that you had given him. the strands of the bracelet were frayed as he toyed with it, over and over again. the smell of the hospital was nauseating, and the feeling of being in a place that smelt like antibiotics and sickness made his skin crawl.
he had gotten the call that your baby was born in the middle of a fight. he was on top of a guy before someone stormed in the middle of the fight. that was uncommon, and the referee quickly had them separated before rafe realised it was your work friend, delany. she looked frantic, as she tried to mouth something.
the minute he realised what it was, he was pulling the ropes of the ring, and yelling at people to get out of the way. blood was splattered across his mouth, and his swelling knuckles stung with pain, as his sweaty t-shirt stuck to his chest.
your water broke.
he was there in minutes, swearing as he tried to close the car. he'd run into the hospital with a huff, demanding to know where you were. to be quite frank it may have been sweet to you - but it was downright scary to the nurses.
a bulky guy with blood splattered all over him, holding a silly pink baby bag. the first nurse let out an uncomfortable laugh before telling him to sit down. now, rafe would have started yelling, but there was this drumming in his heart that made him feel as if he was going to vomit.
he couldn't lose you, no, this was a critical part of all of it. he'd read those stupid books that you had gotten him about pregnancy, and how dangerous it was, and how many mothers had died and how to hold a baby, and, and-
(goddamn it, he was scared.)
"mr. cameron. would you like to come in?"
he looked up to see a nurse with a painful smile, he took a deep breath before nodding his head. rafe felt his hands shake, as he took a step inside the room.
there you were, pretty as always with that discharge night gown, and a relieved sweaty smile on your face. you look so calm, but his eyes zone on your hands. the baby isn't in your hands, and he found himself wondering where the baby was, but he watched you get up to touch him.
"hey, hey baby. calm down. you need to stay like that," he muses, coming closer to rub your shoulders. you close your eyes, a soft gasp coming out of your mouth.
rafe gives you a soft peck on the shoulder, "why didn't you call me?" he whispers in that gentle tone of his. you squirm, peeling open your eyes with those pleading doe eyes,.
"i didn't want to bother you. i knew-" you gasped out, "i knew you had that important match and shit, and i don't know i thought it was like a bad time-"
rafe cursed, "didn't i tell you it was the two of us together? i shoulda' been there for you. shoulda' have held your hand through this shit-" and he knew he's going on a tangent as your lip wobbled and he quickly licked his lips while shaking his head.
"nah, it doesn't matter now. aw, my sweet girl did this all by herself. let me," he muttered, rubbing tears off your cheeks, "where's the baby?" you sniffled, nuzzling your face in his hands, before pointing to the sinks where he saw a small tiny girl.
she's squirming in the nurse's hands, as she gets washed off. her tiny face is squished up as she lets out small squeals. he's struck by how small, how tiny, how he made that little thing with you.
"i-" he choked up unable to take his eyes off your baby, "thank you sweets. thank you." his head bowed down into your lap, the words like worship. he was a devout in your temple.
"here's the baby, ms. cameron."
you looked up at her, a little bundle of joy as the doctor put her in your lap. rafe felt like everything was complete, feeling his throat sting and his hands get clammy. god, what did he do to deserve this?
the baby was perfect, a tiny sweet thing and rafe's hands shook at his sides as you looked up at him with teary eyes.
"do you want to hold her?"
he swallowed hard, his voice that soft whisper you knew so well, "can i?"
you laughed something that was so sweet, ringing in his ear like a song he never wanted to end. yet, he couldn't help but look at you with approval and when he looked into your eyes all he saw was love. all he saw was the truth. finally, he reached for his baby girl, calloused hands cradling her.
he finally had found his family.
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ja3yun · 9 months
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Stitch Me Up | L.HS
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underground fighter!heeseung x nurse!reader
warnings: smut (mdni), ex heeseung, unprotected sex, cream pie, weapon and blood mention, if i missed anything lmk!
wc: 4.5k+
synopsis: after a tough shift in the hospital all you wanted was to rid yourself of the tension and your ex turns up just in time
a/n: hi! hope you're all doing well. a quick one shot from me so i hope you like it. not much to say on this one <3 ilysm
Dragging your feet behind you, you unlock your door. Everything that went wrong today could have gone wrong; first, you caught your fingers in the mobile hoist, a patient spat in your face, and you spent the last 30 minutes of your shift cleaning shit from the toilets.
No one ever said being a nurse was a glamorous job, but on days like these, you wish you picked something a little more dignifying. 
You kick your shoes off and head to your bedroom to grab some pajamas. Every bit of you is emotionally and physically drained, this past month has been exhausting. Working 70-hour weeks and being underpaid for it was starting to take its toll on your fragile body.
Nights like these you miss Heeseung, you shouldn’t but you do. 
Picking up scattered clothes that made a mess of your bedroom floor, you groan when your lower back aches. Someone in their 20s shouldn’t be in this much pain. They should be living their best life, staying up late, going out at the weekend, and having a healthy social life. 
You love your job, it’s rewarding and you love to take care of people. Seeing people who are in your ward get better makes your heart feel full like your life is actually worth something and doing some good in this shitty world.
You used to have balance. Heeseung was your balance. 
Sifting through your drawers you find some pink shorts with white love hearts and a cropped white tank top. Usually, you would settle for a set of sweats and a baggy t-shirt but after practically spending 3 days straight in unflattering scrubs you wanted something pretty.
When you walk you can feel the pain in your feet, and blisters start to form. You needed this shower asap. Luckily the bathroom is less than 5 steps away from your bedroom door so you can keep your hobbling to a minimum. The shower is so enticing as you switch the button on and set the temperature just right, or in your case, scolding hot.
A roasting hot shower is what you need to forget today. You need Heeseung’s hands to melt away the pain.
You miss him.
Heeseung and you have been broken up for precisely 1 month and 13 days. For some reason today you can’t shake him off your mind. 
The water cascades down your skin, tiny droplets sit on your face as you wash your hair. The smell of coconut fills the tiny box bathroom and for the first time today, you feel content.
After you rinse the conditioner from your hair and wash your body with a matching scented soap, you pull the shower curtain back and step out carefully - the last thing you need is to fall and break a bone.
Wiping the mirror to rid it of the steam you stare at yourself. The dark circles under your eyes and the redness of your cheeks showcase just how tired your body is. Nothing an overpriced and overrated skincare routine can’t fix. You grab the cleanser and start your regime. It reminds you of him, how he used to always help you, the pads of his fingers gently rubbing the product into your skin, and when he had any left over he would use it on himself. He looked so cute and sweet during those times.
What is with you today? Why do you keep thinking about him?
Quickly, you dry your hair and body with the towel and get ready for bed. Typically, you would sit up and watch an episode or two of Brooklyn 99 but honestly, you’re too burnt out to enjoy it.
As you leave the bathroom there is a knock at the door and you freeze on sight. It’s late and none of your friends would come over, so your brain goes into panic mode. Being a girl alone in her flat was scary enough these days never mind taking in the factor of the time. All the lights are off so hopefully if you just stay still, they’ll leave.
Another knock.
Grabbing a coat hanger from the clothesline in the bathroom you arm yourself with it, it would do enough damage to the person on the other side of the door if you had to escape. 
So you couldn’t second guess yourself, you briskly tiptoed to the door and swung it open, hanger tightly in your grip ready to swing.
The figure turns around and jumps, backing up when they see the coathanger ready to be lobbed at their face.
“Woah, Y/N. It’s just me.” He puts his hands in front of him in defense.
Heeseung.
You breathe out and relax, dropping your arms to your side. Although your exterior seems to have gotten over the fright, your heart is thumping still. That could be because when you look him in the eyes finally you register who he is.
“Heeseung it’s past midnight, what are you doing here?” 
He steps forward and you see his face battered and bruised, his lip has been bust open and a black eye forming on the left side of his face, he was a mess. There have been countless times he’s looked like this, it’s how you two met.
A year ago there was a knock on your door, not unlike tonight, except that time your friend Jongseong was carrying a half-to-life version of Heeseung. The boy couldn’t stand on his own two feet.
“Y/N, sorry, I didn’t know where to go, he didn’t want to go to the hospital,” Jongseong explained, although it didn’t clear anything up.
“What the fuck, Jongie, who is this?” You grab the other side of the spent boy and sit him down on the couch, “What happened to him?” Looking at the guy in front of you, you see the blood on his t-shirt, slash marks on his arms, and his face is blown out.
Jongseong rushes to get the first aid kit from your bathroom, “He was fighting tonight and some arsehole pulled a knife on him, and got him in the stomach a few times,” You lift the fabric covering his torso and see wounds bleeding, “I tried to pull him out of the fight but he wasn’t having it.”
You don’t know a lot about Jongseong’s work life, all you know is that by day he’s a simple office body, filling, paperwork, a pen pusher of sorts. But when night came he was an underground fighter, all of it illegal, but he fell into it with some guys at the gym. From what you hear he is pretty good at it.
“Heeseung, buddy?” Jongseong slaps the boy's face a few times, “Stay awake, this is Y/N, she’s a nurse.” So his name was Heeseung.
“Jongie, these are pretty serious, he needs to go to the hospital.”
“No hospital.” Heeseung coughs out. You suppose if you take him to A&E how could any of them explain what happened? 
You rub his legs to soothe him, “Okay, no hospital.” 
That night you stitched his wounds and cleaned him up. Obviously, he survived, and you took him in like an injured winged bird. Let him stay at yours for 2 weeks, and by the time he was ready to fly away back into the world, you wanted him to stay forever.
You look him up and down to take in his outfit, he wasn’t wearing sweats so this wasn’t a scheduled fight, instead, he was clad in jeans, a White Stripes t-shirt, and a loose-fitting leather jacket, “What the fuck happened, Heeseung?” 
“Is it lame if I say you should see the other guy?” He laughs but nothing is funny. 
Stepping aside you let him into your flat which he does like second nature, his shoes left exactly where they used to go, “Heeseung you can’t just come here looking like this and not tell me what happened.” On autopilot, you go to get the first aid kit.
He takes a seat on your kitchen counter and looks around, “Nothing much happened, some guys being dicks.” 
You come back from the bathroom and see him atop your kitchen, “Eh, get down from there. Now.” He always perched himself on anything but a seat. It didn’t bother you too much but right now after your shift, you couldn’t be arsed to pander to it, “Try and treat my place with a bit of respect please.”
Heeseung jumps off and walks to take a seat on the edge of your couch. It might be wrong of you to think it but he does look beautiful like this. You blame Leon Kennedy in Resident Evil for your attraction to busted up men.
As you open the first aid kit you feel his eyes on you, “Why did you come here, Heeseung? You could have treated this yourself.”
“I missed you.” He confesses and it’s true he did miss you. 
For the past month he’s been throwing himself into fights he knows he won’t win just to feel something other than heartache. In spite of his cold attitude and reckless behaviour, he held your love so gently in his heart that he couldn’t even act tough around you. From the first day he laid eyes on you, he knew you had to be his, and if that meant opening up his heart, that’s what he did. 
A first he thought it was because you were fixing his wounds and he owed you something but that thought quickly vanished when you fixed more than that. 
“Heeseung, we broke up. It’s done.” You say coldly. With the thoughts of missing him earlier still fresh in your brain, you had to nip this in the bud.
When you broke up with Heeseung it wasn’t exactly because you wanted to, it was to protect yourself. His lifestyle and yours don’t mix, he was always getting into trouble and you were trying to avoid it at all costs. But more importantly than that, you couldn’t see the man you love come home every night exactly how he is now, broken and beaten. 
The deeper into the fight circuit Heeseung got, the more dangerous it was. People were pulling knives, guns, and bringing back up, all for the sake of making sure their bosses won the bets. Your ex-boyfriend was a great fighter - or so you’ve heard, he never let you come to any of the fights - but these other guys played dirty and it was a threat to his life. 
So when you asked him to stop and he said no, you did what you had to and called it off. You lost sleep, precious never to be taken for granted sleep, every night he fought and it was taking its toll on you. You tried to compromise with him and pleaded with him to go back to the regulated (if you could even call them that) fights, the ones where the stakes are lower.
However, Heeseung was above that now, too much of a hot commodity. 
“Baby, I’m making us enough money so you don’t have to do so much overtime.”
“Seungie, I’m a nurse, all we do is overtime. Plus, this shouldn’t be about the money, it’s about your safety.” Your voice is cracking with every sentence you have uttered tonight, but he still won’t listen, “I’m not asking you to give it up, but please stop taking these high-stakes fights, you’re going to get killed.”
Heeseung scoffs and places a hand on your shoulder, “I won’t die, I’ve got you to stitch me up.”
“No, Seungie, you don’t. I can’t do this anymore.”
It was a brutal way to end it, none of you walked into that conversation expecting that outcome, but for you, it was the only thing you could do.
Soaking a cotton pad with some anti-septic, you place it gently on his lip, a hiss from him following your action, “Sorry.” You whisper. A sorry for the pain but also for breaking up with him. No matter how much you knew it was right for you, you knew it was hard on him. Opening himself up to love you wasn’t easy for Heeseung.
“I’m used to it, baby.” Your heart cries as he calls you baby, it always sounded so perfect coming from him.
“What did the guys do?” You ask and he looks at you with those beautiful eyes, masked behind purple and blue, “You said guys were being dicks, so what did they do?”
He didn’t want to waste energy on it, the fight being over in a flash anyway, “Just stuff. They got a jump on me hence the mess.” He moves his hand to gesture to his face but while his hand is already there, it engulfs yours, the one that’s cleaning the blood from his mouth, “Baby, I didn’t start it.”
“I know, Seungie.” You feel yourself falling back into how it used to be, his thumb running circles into your hand. 
Once you finish up, you place a skin closure strip on his mouth, your thumb rubbing gently to secure it in place. He takes the opportunity to take your thumb into his mouth and you nearly moan at the intimate act. 
But this isn’t how it is now.
“Heeseung.” You warn him. 
He releases your thumb and sighs, “Habit.” He was a man of few words, you knew that, so there was no need to say anything more.
“You should go. Keep it clean, and put some ointment on that black eye.”
“I miss you so fucking much, Y/N.” Ignoring him, you walk into the bathroom to return the first aid kit, “Don’t you miss me?”
It almost makes you laugh. You missed him more than anything, so much so that after the shitshow that was today all you could think about was him. All you wanted was for him to wrap you in his arms and tell you everything is fine, but that is a wish that can’t be a reality anymore. 
“It’s not about missing you Heese-”
“I’ll quit.” 
You turn the bathroom light off and brush past him, “No, you won’t. We both know it so don’t lie to me, don’t start that now.” 
Heeseung is a beat behind you when you walk into your bedroom, “Y/N, believe me.” He knew you didn’t need to believe him, there wasn’t even a reason to believe him because he had said this before. But this time is different, “If you just listen to me,”
“No, I don’t think I will.” The stare you have on him is angry, “I offered you a solution for all of this, and honestly? I am so tired of this conversation now. I need you to go.”
Hurt flickers in his eyes, “Baby, I’m miserable without you.”
Agitation builds up inside you. He’s acting like this is solely your fault, like you were the one that caused all this. Granted, you broke up with him but it was after giving him every solution to stop it, “This is not my doing, Seungie, okay?” He wants to retaliate but you snip in before he gets the chance, “You love fighting those losers more than you ever did me, you made that clear.”
He sees red at your allegation. How dare you even think for a second you weren’t his number one. Sure, he didn’t want to give up fighting, it was who he was, but he also didn’t want to lose you, he sees that now. He has to prove to you just how much you mean to him.
Heeseung takes two long strides to you and kisses you hungrily. It’s been so long since he felt your lips in his. The stinging from his wound is dull compared to how he feels to have you like this again, he has a whole month of kisses and fucking to catch up on and nothing will stop him.
“I love you so much don’t you dare fucking say that.” It was a rarity for him to say that he loves you out loud. You knew he did, it was his actions that showed his love more than words, but hearing it made your eyes well with tears. Because he didn’t say it much, you cherished every single time he did.
You fall onto the bed behind you, his weight crashing onto you as you both lose yourselves in the kiss, all that anger and hurt dissipated each of his kisses.
Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you try and deepen the kiss but he pulls away. He takes off his jacket and t-shirt and that’s when you see the bruises dispersed along his chest and torso. This fight must have been a lot more brutal than he let on. 
Sitting up you kiss each bruise while he straddles your lap, gently showing love for each one. The nurse in you wants to tend to them right away, they really did a number on his stomach and you’re slightly concerned about the damage done to his insides. But right now all he needs is a few kisses to make it better.
“They don’t hurt, promise.” He assures you, but if you kiss him too hard, which isn’t hard at all, he winces. To fixate on something other than the pain he whips off your tank top and just the sight of your breasts has him feeling a-okay, “Missed you so much.”
You could laugh at his obvious ogling but with your burnt out body and his just the same, you just needed to feel him, “Seungie, please,” You whine into his right peck as you kiss him over his darkest bruise again.
Heeseung understands your pleas and pushes you flat against the bed before undoing his jeans and not so gracefully kicking them off, “What do you want, baby? I’ll do it all.” 
To quit fighting. That’s what you want to say, but you can’t risk the idea of an argument, not when you’re so close to having him inside you again, “Fuck me, Heeseung. Please.”
This is all he’s been dreaming about since you told him to go. Your love wasn’t the only thing he craved. 
Dipping his head down to yours he kisses you again, his hands dipping into your cute pajama shorts to pull them down, “Can I eat your pussy baby?”
You would love nothing more than to feel his tongue all over you but you are truly exhausted, “I have had such a hard shift Seungie, just need your cock to make me feel better.” You’re lifting your hips into his as you say this, staring into his eyes to let him know he has to do this soon or you’ll crash.
“Okay, baby.” He brings two of his fingers to your folds to assess how easy you could take him. You’re wet but you could be wetter for him. Heeseung is an average size but if you’ve been without sex for a month like he had hoped you’d need a little more. 
He clambers over you to reach the top drawer and grab some lube. His cock is basically in your face so who were you to not have a taste of it? You sit up on your elbows and your mouth engulfs his member. He's so shocked by the sudden action he nearly drops the bottle, “Shit, baby.” His free hand finds its way into your hair as you bob up and down his shaft, “Missed that mouth of yours.” He breathes out, “Missed it sucking me off, missed it saying my name, fuck I even missed it bossing me around.” 
Pulling back you look at him with an unamused look but he uses it as an excuse to kiss you once again. 
Slithering down to his previous position he coats his cock with some of the lube, sparing some for your hole, slipping a finger into you to slick your inner walls with it. You turn into a moaning mess as you feel his fingers for the first time in so long, your hips involuntarily buck up.
“I’ll only be a minute, baby.” Once he feels satisfied you won’t feel any pain, he slides his finger out and rubs the head of his cock on your pussy. He isn’t even teasing you but you feel like he is with how long he is taking.
Abruptly, he pushes into your heat, the feeling of you around him makes his head spin. No one will ever feel as good as you, that’s why he’s willing to do anything to have you, “So good,” he exhales, “So fucking good, baby.” Bottoming out, he can’t stop a loud groan from erupting out his mouth. You’ve missed the sound so much.
He starts to thrust into you at a fast pace once he knows your walls have settled, each hit making the room fill with sounds of skin slapping and curses. With the way he’s fucking you, you would think you hadn’t seen each other in years, but he craves you so much that even one day without the option of you around his cock was unbearable. 
“Shit, Seungie please go faster.” He listens to you and picks up the pace, knowing how tired you are he needs to get you off quickly. 
Between your thighs, his hand finds your clit as he starts to rub it harshly. You look unreal right now, with your mouth open and head thrown back into the mattress.
Lifting your right leg over your shoulder he reaches a deeper spot, his cock pounding into you with ferocity it makes you squeeze around him, “Oh fuck, baby, do that again.” You squeeze his shaft with your walls again, “Fucking pussy feels like heaven.” He whispers to himself.
His hips keep a harsh rhythm, the sharpness of each thrust sending you more and more over the edge, “Close.” Is all you say.
“Yeah? Gonna cum for me, baby?” he smirks, happy knowing that he’s about to feel your ecstasy around him, “Cum for me, Y/N.”
And just like that your pussy comes undone on his dick that is still mercilessly pummeling into you. A loud mewl draws out your mouth and your hands grab onto the duvet under you, he’s making you feel bliss right now. 
Heeseung can feel himself getting closer and if he wants full satisfaction he needs to cum now while your walls are contracting thoughtlessly, he needs you to milk his cock dry.
Feeling him lose his rhythm a little you know he just needs a little something to bring him over the edge, “Seungie, need your cum so bad.” He loved it when you begged for his seed.
“Yeah? How bad?”
“I’m starving for it.”
The last few words have his hips stuttering and ropes of his cum shooting into you, filling you up just how you like it.
You’ve finally regained composure from your own high and just in time to see his slack jaw and eyes screwed shut. He was one of the few people that looked good when they orgasmed and you loved when you got to see him in all his glory.
Heeseung falls onto you briefly to catch his breath, the pain from his stomach coming back slowly but that doesn’t matter right now, “Let me clean you up.” He slides out of you and goes to get supplies to look after you.
Because your job requires you to look after everyone around you, it was nice how Heeseung would do aftercare so well, making sure you’re okay.
He takes a while but as he comes back he’s holding a damp cloth and bottle of water in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, “Sit up for me baby.” 
After placing the tea and water on the bedside table he starts to run the cloth along your sensitve area. He loved to see you full of his cum, every time the white substance would leak from you he felt a bit of pride so washing it away like this was mourningful.
“I have quit.” He says lowly, “Fighting, I mean. I quit this morning.”
“But you only said you would quit earlier?” You question, recalling the previous conversation.
“I wanted to see if you would believe me.”
You’re dubious, not understanding what he’s saying, “You can’t just quit like that, Seungie. You told me it wasn’t that easy.” 
And it wasn’t. It’s not like you can hand in a two week notice and call it a day, there are too many stakeholders involved, too much money being thrown around to just up and off.
“Yeah, you can see it wasn’t so painless.” He finishes cleaning you off and goes to place the rag in the washing basket.
“What do you mean?” As he walks into the room you see his bruises again and it all hits you at once, “The guys being dicks…”
Heeseung nods and jumps back into his boxers but not anything else with the hopes you want him to stay, “Told them I wasn’t doing it anymore and next thing I know I’m on the floor.” He laughs embarrassed at the memory.
This was technically your fault, you asked him to stop the high stake fights and this is what happened. 
Seeing your face, Heeseung sits on the bed next to you and cups your cheek, “Hey, no, I know what you’re thinking but you didn’t make me quit. I chose too. This is my doing”
“But I asked you to.” You look down and trace over his bruises lightly.
“Yeah, but I said no at first.” His hand runs into your damp hair, “I decided to quit this morning because losing you isn’t worth it. I meant it when I said i’m fucking miserable.” 
Sighing you fear this happiness in your chest is going to disappear at any moment, “It’s what you love though, Seungie.”
“I love you.” He hates that you have this preconceived notion that somehow he loves fighting more than you, “And I know I should have said it more when we were together but, baby, give me another chance so I can keep saying it.” 
You want to cry again, “Have you actually quit? No more fights?”
He places his hand on his heart, “I quit, promise. The only fights now will be with guys who stare at you too long.” 
Laughing, you remember a time he clocked two guys out for even offering you a drink. Heeseung has always been protective of you, that’s why you missed him so much today. Coming home after a grueling shift made you want nothing more than for him to hold you.
He’s offering you that chance again and you can’t turn it down, “I love you, Heeseung.”
“Fuck, baby, I love you too.” His lips are on yours again as he pours his love into you, his devotion.
Heeseung wasn’t letting you go again. Not for any fight in the world.
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ariestrxsh · 28 days
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⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, corruption of innocence, (slightly rough) oral, light hair pulling, lots of praise, daddy kink, fingering, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, threesome, belly bulge, creampie, squirting, manipulative!matt, manipulative!chris, innocent!reader
📝 author's note: 📝 this is part three of 'playground love.' 💖 here, you can read parts one and two. i must insist you read these first bc this shit is too good not to read in order. 💖 enjoy.
✍️ Summary: ✍️ You're an innocent virgin, and you've fallen into the hands of Matt and Chris, who want to know who you think has the prettiest cock.
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'playground love' part three
"Yeah, we're each gonna take our cocks out, and you're gonna tell us which one of us you think has the prettiest one. Okay, princess?" Matt cooed, stroking your face. You innocently nodded. "Get on your knees for us," Chris ordered you, and you did.
You were completely naked, kneeling on your soft, pink rug while Matt and Chris towered over you, removing their shirts. You admired their lean, slightly muscular builds, and your eyes danced to the suggestive 'v' lines leading down the front of their pants.
You heard the sound of Matt fiddling with his belt and unzipping his zipper while you took in the sight of Chris pulling down his sweats and underwear, his cock springing out of the fabric that previously strained it. Your jaw dropped, and your gaze made its way to Matt's cock revealing itself as he took off his jeans. You'd never seen a man naked in person, and now you were seeing two.
Their bodies looked scultped by the gods, carefully curated for your viewing pleasure. They looked better than the porn Matt had shown you. You stared up at them in awe as if they were engulfed in a halo of white light. Their well-groomed cocks stood at attention for you, and they sat at eye level, giving you a really good look.
They were both big, however Chris was a little longer while Matt was a little thicker. They each had bulbous tips that matched the color of each of their lips, and they both leaked a clear substance you knew nothing about yet. Matt had a few prominent veins that stuck out on his shaft, and Chris had a few more.
The only other notable difference was that Matt's cock curved slightly upward, and Chris' hung slightly towards the left. Other than that, they looked more or less the same. They were both engorged, throbbing, and silently begging to be touched.
The two of them peered down at you, and the way you closely examined their packages, your expression saturated in amazement and curiosity. "Why don't you hold them in your hands?" Matt suggested, smirking at you.
You reached up, gently taking Chris into your right hand and Matt into your left, almost as if you were afraid of hurting them. They felt strange in your grasp. They were hard, but the skin was soft, and you could feel them twitching against your palms as you held them.
"You can be a little rough with it, princess," Chris assured you, smiling at how cute you looked, handling them each so delicately, and so you gripped them each a little more tightly "Try moving your hands back and forth, sweetheart," Matt suggested, taking his lower lip in between his teeth. You did as he recommended, and both of their expressions softened as you started stroking them. You noted how the skin felt while you moved your hands back and forth a bit faster, your hands caressing every vein.
"That's it, sweetheart," Matt said in a breathy voice. "What's that stuff leaking out of you?" You naively asked, examining their tips and narrowing your eyes at Matt and smiling. "Why don't you taste it and find out, sweetheart?" Chris responded, smirking at you.
Your eyes flicked over to Chris as you hesitantly leaned in, placed your mouth on Chris' tip, and slurped it up while his eyes rolled back, and he smiled at the sensation. "It's kinda salty," you giggled, secretly loving how responsive Chris was to your lips.
Then you moved over to Matt's and did the same, slurping up his mystery liquid while he gently placed his hand on the back of your head, letting out a soft whimper and looking into your eyes. You felt yourself becoming wet again from their reactions to you tasting them.
"Well, now I know how it tastes, but that doesn't tell me what it is," you chuckled with both your hands still on their dicks. "It's called precum, and it means you're doing a really good job, princess," Chris smiled at you. "Can I keep doing it? I really like it," you innocently whispered, licking your lips. "Yes, of course, baby girl," Matt replied, loving your response.
You took Matt's head between your lips once more and continued to suck on it while you jerked them both off. "Try moving your head back and forth while you do that, and make sure you to keep your teeth out of the way. Oh, fuck. Yes, pretty girl. Oh my god, just like that," his voice started to trail off while you did as he told you.
You felt so powerful making a strong man whimper with your mouth, and you relished in the way he sounded, the way he looked, and the way he tasted. You could only hope you were making him feel as good as he'd made you feel with his tongue.
He held eye contact with you the same way he had earlier while he was going down on you, and you absolutely adored it. He put his hand on the back of your head again and started gently rocking his hips back and forth until most of his length had disappeared behind your lips. "Good girl," he whispered in between moans. His mushroom-shaped tip fit perfectly in your throat like it was meant to be there.
"You're making me jealous, princess. Come here and give me some attention, hmm?" Chris whispered. You moved your lips from Matt's cock and transferred them over to Chris', but you kept your left hand on Matt's and continued pumping it back and forth. Your lips engulfed his tip, your tongue brushing up against his shaft, and you bobbed your head the same way you had with Matt.
"Your pretty mouth feels so fucking good," Chris cooed, throwing his head back and letting out a seductive groan. You gently suckled on it, your tongue dancing across his sensitive nerve endings. "Fuck yes," he whimpered. He was a little more expressive than Matt and his satisfied sounds were a bit less restrained, and you really liked that. You loved that you could almost feel his pleasure vicariously through him while your mouth worked its way down his shaft.
"Daddy's gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours, okay, princess?" Chris cooed, smiling down at you. He grabbed onto each of your braids and pulled your mouth down further onto him. He started to buck his hips slowly at first, but his pace quickly sped up. You started to lightly gag while he gripped your pigtails and pumped his cock back and forth into you.
"Such a good girl. Taking daddy's cock so good, aren't you, princess?" He muttered, enjoying every inch of your mouth. You throbbed at the way he spoke to you. You couldn't speak with his member filling your throat but your eyes, looking up at him longingly, told him how much you loved it.
Matt's voice broke you out of your trance, "I miss your mouth, princess. Please give me more attention," Matt begged in a needy tone. How could you resist? How could you not give him what he wanted when he sounded like that?
You pulled your mouth from Chris, and it found its way back to Matt, whose eyes were pleading with you to give him what he needed. "Thank you, baby. You treat my cock so good," he smirked while your lips satisfied him. You watched the way he responded to the flick of your tongue against his slit as more precum flowed out. He bit his lip to suppress a moan and he looked at you with glazed over eyes that begged you not to stop.
You used a combination of the techniques you'd seen in the porn videos Matt had shown you and the way Matt's body responded to your mouth to find what he liked. He liked it rather slow, but passionate and messy. His eyes would roll back anytime you'd suck and move your tongue in circles around the head at the same time. The stimulation drove him crazy.
He looked down into your big, doe eyes and the way your lips were wrapped around his cock, and whispered, "I'm about to cum, princess. I'm about to make a mess in your mouth. Will you make sure to swallow it for me?" You nodded, eager to do whatever Matt asked of you.
You admired Matt while he became unraveled before you, cock pulsating in your mouth, a slew of profanities passing through his lips, and a warm, sticky, gooey liquid painting your tongue while he finished. His hips gently rocked forward and he watched you intently while he came. You delighted in every one of your senses that Matt filled, gulping down every ounce of his sweet juice.
"Oh, sweetheart. You did so good for me. Swallowed every last bit," Matt breathlessly praised you. You smiled at him, proud about having made him cum.
"Come give daddy some, princess," Chris muttered. You couldn't wait to feel him tug on your tigtails again and talk all sweet to you. You focused all your attention on the brother you'd just met, your mouth enveloping his dick while he mischeviously grinned at you. You moved your lips up and down his rod, sucking on it while you did. Chris, once again, clutched both of your braids and started to fervently move his hips, making you take more of him. You started gagging a bit again.
"If I'm being too rough, princess, just tell me, and I'll be more gentle," Chris smiled at you while he relished in the way looked and sounded while he used your throat. You didn't want Chris to be more gentle. You loved the way he bucked his hips, the force with which he tightly grabbed onto your hair, and the way he made you lightly choke. You couldn't get enough.
"Good girl. You like when daddy's a little rough with you?" Chris cooed as if reading your thoughts. You weren't sure why, but every time Chris referred to himself as daddy, you felt a throbbing between your legs. All you wanted to do was please him, hear him moan your name, and make him cum on your tongue.
Chris could sense your eagerness, could see the twinkle in your eyes as you peered up at him, and he watched the way his shaft disappeared behind your plump lips. He loved that he and Matt got to be the first ones you gave head to. He was thinking about your innocence and your willingness to let them teach you, along with how intuitively you understood what to do with your mouth and your hands without much direction. He couldn't wait for him and Matt to take your virginity if you'd let them..
Suddenly in the midst of his thoughts about you, he let out a few guttural moans, and his cock began to twitch against your lips. "Be a good girl and swallow for daddy," he smirked, exploring his teeth with his tongue while he looked down lovingly at you and all the amazing things you did with your mouth. His cum pooled onto your tongue, slightly thicker than Matt's and a bit more tangy, and you hungrily devoured every drop.
His hips slowed to a stop once he was finished, he released your pigtails from his grasp, and he thanked you over and over again for how good you made him feel. Matt leaned down, helping you to your feet, wrapping you in your blanket and handing you your glass of water back.
Once you gulped it down, Chris offered to go downstairs and refill it, and you took him up on it. "Hey, Chris wasn't too rough with you, was he? He can sometimes get a little carried away," Matt whispered once Chris had left the room, and the two of you were sitting side-by-side at the foot of your bed together. "No, I liked it. If I didn't like it, I would have told him to stop," you reassured Matt, looking into his eyes.
He appreciated that despite how shy and pure you were, you knew what you liked and didn't like, and you knew how to vocalize it. He leaned in and kissed you, cupping your face and moaning against your lip. "You're so beautiful. Thank you for sharing your body with us," Matt told you, kissing your forehead.
Chris re-entered your bedroom, glass of water in hand, and he smiled at how cute you looked curled up in your blanket while Matt rubbed your back. "How do you feel?" Chris asked you, handing you your water and caressing your cheek with the back of his hand. "Good. I feel so safe with you guys," you told them, glancing between each pair of blue eyes and taking a sip from the glass.
"You know, princess. We've done a lot today, and I understand if you're overwhelmed and if you wanna stop. But there's just one thing we haven't done yet," Matt started to say. "Sex?" You innocently bit your lip.
"Yeah, sweetheart," Matt replied as he pushed the blanket off your shoulder and started tracing your collarbone with his fingertip. "I-I don't know," you stammered, recoiling. You were intimidated by how big they both were, and you weren't sure how they were even gonna fit. Chris helped Matt push the blanket off of your naked body while they both stared hungrily at you.
"It'll only hurt for a sec," Chris sympathetically responded. "We'll be real gentle. Take good care of you," Matt promised. "If you need us to stop, just say stop," Chris reassured you.
They were both on either side of you on the bed again. A nervous excitement welled within your stomach, anticipating pain but wanting sex with them both so badly. You began dripping down your thigh while they both had their hands on you, gently running their fingertips over your flesh. Goosebumps stood up all over your body, and Matt was whispering in your ear, "Lay back, sweet girl. Let me take care of you," and you did.
You rested your head back on your soft, fluffy pillow while your eyes rested on the glittering chandelier on your ceiling. Chris planted a few kisses on your breasts again, taking your sensitive nipples between hips lips, sucking, licking, and humming against them while Matt's hand traveled down to your heat. He ventured your folds, relishing in how easily his fingers slipped around against your clit. You bit your lip and your eyes widened as he brushed against it.
"Wow. Wet already, princess?" Matt cooed, making slow circles on your sweet spot. "Mhmm," you hummed. "Any particular reason?" He asked, dying to hear you say it. "From putting my mouth on you guys," you innocently whimpered.
"Who knew you'd like sucking cock so much, huh?" Chris grinned up at you, relishing in your answer. Although he could tell by the way your eyes looked while he pumped himself in and out of your mouth earlier how turned on you were getting bringing the boys pleasure.
Matt rubbed your slit up and down a few times until he approached your hole. "Deep breath, darling," he told you before he pushed his finger in. You let out a pained whine as he filled you, gently pumping back and forth while you got used to how big his fingers were.
Like Matt had told you yesterday about the line between pain and pleasure being a fine one, you experienced that phenomenon firsthand as your soft cries turned to full-bodied moans.
Chris continued to kiss your chest, your neck, your jawline, and he watched as your eyes rolled back. "Deep breath again, sweetheart. Here comes the second one," he warned you a few seconds before pushing another in. You let out another discomforted noise before you got used to the feeling again, and they felt you relax underneath their touches.
"Good girl," Chris whispered against your neck. "Fuck, princess. Your little cunt is so tight," Matt sighed, his cock twitching at the thought of how good you'd feel wrapped around him. He reveled in the fact that he was the first pair of fingers to venture your sweet pussy besides your own.
He couldn't get enough of your innocence, so much so that he almost thought about calling it all off, just to preserve your purity for his own sick satisfaction. But more than that, he couldn't wait to ruin that innocence, to stretch you out, and show you what your body was really capable of.
Once you were completely used to his fingers, he put a third in, and it took even less time for your pleasure to wash over you until you were in a tranquil state. Matt let you enjoy the feeling of his fingers for a few more minutes, but he was secretly dying to take it further..
He removed his fingers, and he positioned himself so that he was between your legs. "Ready for me, hmm?" Matt asked, lining his member up with your entrance and gently pushing down on it. You silently nodded while you looked into his gorgeous blue eyes.
His cock disappeared into your hole, and you let out a yelp as he took your innocence. You could feel his cock throbbing inside of you while he slowly pushed it in further. "Good girl, princess. You're taking it so good," Chris whispered, watching the way Matt slowly stretched you out.
The thing about Matt was that he was always going to put your pleasure first and leave his own on the back burner until later, so no matter how hard it was for him to keep his movements controlled, slow, and subtle, he was going to in order to keep from hurting you.
"The painful part is almost over, sweetheart," he soothed you with his words. After a few more strokes, your suffering subsided, and it started to feel delightfully good. Matt watched the shift happen before his eyes, nearly getting off on it.
He peered down and saw the outline of his cock moving around in your stomach, and Chris soon noticed it, too. They both stared down at the belly bulge, starstruck by the incredible sight. "See that, princess?" Matt delightfully sighed, pushing down on his imprint. "That's me inside of you," he smirked, licking his teeth and grabbing ahold of your gaze with his own.
He started to fuck you a little faster, making a clap clap clap noise against your skin. Your breath quickened and became more shallow and so did Matt's. Your back began to arch. You'd never felt better than you did in this moment.
Matt drilled into you while you laid back and took it, accepting him into you and loving every inch of the way he felt. Chris was sitting to your left, caressing your face and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He kept finding reasons to playfully tug on your pigtails and reasons to gently stick his fingertips in your mouth, moaning and smiling anytime you'd suck on them. They loved tainting your innocence with their perverse nature.
The combination of the way Chris was interacting with you and the way Matt was railing you sent you over the edge. They pulled an orgasm from the deepest part of you, and it was more powerful than the others you'd had. Matt felt you squirt your liquid all over the length of his cock while you thrashed beneath him and cried out in sheer desire.
Matt couldn't help but cum as well when he realized he'd just made you squirt. He pumped you full of his seed while he pulsated inside of you. "Holy shit, princess," Matt breathlessly whimpered after the two of you came and he was slowing his hips to a stop. "What was that?" You asked, wide-eyed, wondering what made that orgasm so much more special than the others.
"Holy fuck. You just made her squirt, Matt," Chris looked at you, his expression steeped in amusement and awe. "What does that mean?" You wondered, biting your lip while you looked between the two of them as if you could find the answers written on their faces.
"It means Matt just gave you the most powerful kind of orgasm you could ever give a girl," Chris told you. You beamed at learning this information, blushing at how good Matt was in bed and how badly you wanted him to make you squirt again and again..
"Daddy's gotta have a turn with your pussy now," Chris whispered, pulling you on top of his lap. "I need you to ride me, okay, sweet thing?" Chris asked in a daze, his face flushed just from watching you and Matt.
While you kneeled and hovered over his aching cock, he teased your hole with his tip. You gasped as you slowly descended onto him. He gripped you by your hips while your cunt gripped his dick. "I wanted you on top so you could control the pace and show me what you like," Chris grinned, looking up at your cute face as you tried to hold it together.
Since Chris was not as thick as Matt, he slid in easily, but since he was longer and more curved, once his length has disappeared into you completely, it reached a special place inside of you that no one had before, and you shuddered as the tip of his cock grazed this wonderful spot.
"Daddy, I want you to set the pace," you bit your lip and innocently looked at him. "Yeah?" He asked, delighted to hear you call him that while you gave him permission to be in control of you. He held you by your waist, keeping you still in place while he bucked his hips up, slowly at first but then at an incredible speed.
The thing about Chris was that his stamina was a force to be reckoned with. He could fuck you like that for hours if you needed him too. No matter how tired he'd get, he wasn't going to stop until you were gushing all over him and screaming his name.
Matt sat beside the two of you, and the two of the brothers watched as your perky, little breasts, and your pigtails bounced around while Chris worked himself in and out of you. "Wow, look at her," Matt whispered, admiring the sight.
You couldn't hold on very long. The way Chris was stimulating you was almost too good. "Be a good girl and cum all over daddy's cock," Chris urged you through his breathlessness. That feeling arose in your tummy again. Your favorite feeling in the whole wide world.
You came undone once more while Chris bounced you up and down on him, hitting all your hard-to-reach places, and causing you to scream out, "Daddy!" You squirted once more onto Chris' staff this time, sending him over the edge shortly after.
His arms were completely wrapped around your waist and his face buried in your breasts while he looked up at you before his eyes rolled back into his head. He pumped you full to the brim with his thick, milky substance, and your riding soon came to a halt. You collapsed onto the bed beside him, exhausted and buzzing from the high you felt.
After the three of you took in the experience and talked about the things you liked about sex with them, they asked the question again. "So, whose cock do you think is prettier? And who made you cum harder?"
The truth was, you couldn't choose. Part of you wanted to say Matt because you had a crush on him. Another part of you wanted to say Chris because he had surprised you the most. But they had both satisfied you equally and both had gorgeous-looking dicks that you couldn't get enough of.
"I can't pick. Maybe we should do it again to refresh my memory," you half-jokingly said. They giggled, secretly hoping they'd get to do it again as well.
The three of you showered together, and you all fell asleep that evening curled up on your couch downstairs in the glow of the television light while you drifted off to the movie Catch Me If You Can.
You all woke up to your alarm a few hours later, the one you'd set to warn you that your mom would be ending her shift soon. The two boys each kissed you, told you how much fun they had, and slipped out the front door before your mother could return home and catch you.
You fell asleep on clean sheets that night, having put yours in the wash after your shower to destroy any evidence of the manner in which the boys had their way with you.
The memories of earlier that day swam around in your head while you smiled up at your chandelier that reflected a few shafts of light that poured in from the streetlamps outside. And soon you dwindled off into a dream..
part four posted here 💖
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865 notes · View notes
leclercstars · 5 months
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perfectly matched.
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college!art donaldson x reader
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Summary: You and Art swore to never speak of that drunken night again. But you found yourselves together at your college bar, tipsy, and almost unable to resist each other. Warnings: SMUT! 18! alcohol usage, drunk sex, cursing, biting, protected sex
It was one night.
One night, three months ago. Swept up in too many celebratory glasses of champagne. His messy blonde curls looked like a halo with your blurred vision. The traces of liquor on his upper lip seemed to be beckoning you in, begging you to find out if it was vodka or tequila. You left at the same time, he had offered to walk you home. Always a gentleman, always seemed to care about you. You both were stumbling, the drinks hitting the two of you all at once. You ended up outside your house, and then inside your house, up your stairs, in your bedroom. You’d seen his strong hands gripping the racket before but god they looked even better gripping your ass. Clothes thrown all over the room, not able to undress each other fast enough. His chiseled collarbones the perfect culprit for you to leave bite marks along. You woke up the next morning, head pounding, still naked. You felt him next to you, his tight abs pressed against your bare back, curls tickling the side of your neck. Fuck, how could you let that happen. He left in a haste, each of you promising to not discuss the events of the night prior ever again.
And now here you were. A few too many double vodka lemonades deep inside your shitty college bar. The whole team had decided to go out to celebrate the end of a stellar season and unfortunately, Art looked just as good as ever. His backwards Stanford cap and his loose Budweiser t-shirt made him look like some sort of shitty frat guy, which certainly wasn't unappealing to you since that tended to be your type. You tried to play it cool when he walked over to you. “Having fun?” he smirked, sidling up on the barstool next to yours. He leaned back against the bar, looking so perfectly relaxed. How do people end up this sexy?
“Could be having more fun,” you said casually, sipping your drink. Wait. What the fuck. Why did you just say that. You knew you had drank quite a bit but jesus christ isn’t it supposed to be liquid courage not liquid “ruin this friendship?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Art, looking genuinely confused. God sometimes his innocence was almost a little annoying, made you want him even more half the time.
“Sorry, geez I should not have said that,” you were slurring, the alcohol and your emotions making it hard to think straight.
He leaned in closer to you. You could smell the tequila on his breath, knowing that was his liquor of choice from the last time this happened. “I think I can make this night a whole lot more fun,” Art growled. 
You had never heard his voice sound like that before. Low and lusting, you knew you were not going to be able to resist. You locked eyes with him, and you could just feel how needy you probably looked. The two of you got up and left without saying goodbye.
Art was gentle. He was caring, a shoulder to cry on. Someone you could turn to if you were having a bad day and needed a hug. That side of him was not so apparent behind your bedroom door. He pinned you against the wall, muscles rippling in your face as he sucked on your neck. Your moans were soft, hands pulling on his curls, earning equally soft groans from him. You were obsessed, this didn’t happen often and you knew you had to take in every moment. Every inch of him that you could feel, taste, touch, it was completely overtaking you. His boxers were sitting low on his hips, exposing his v-line. Your lacy bralette had been tossed aside, leaving your nipples free to be caressed by his rough hands. His mouth roamed from your neck down to your tits, taking one in his mouth as he gazed up at you. Fuck, your head rolled back against the wall. His eyes were shut, tongue flicking so expertly across your nipple. You never wanted this image of him, looking so intoxicated with your body, to leave your mind.
He stood back up, leaving no room between your now naked bodies. Suddenly his features softened, a nervousness painting itself across his face. He scratched the back of his head, a tell-tale sign that something was on his mind. “Do you want to like-” he was basically whispering, cheeks flushed. It was astonishing how all his confidence had suddenly evaporated. “Fuck?” you filled in the blank, leaning closer to his lips, teasing him with the thought. That hadn’t happened last time you were together. He was too drunk, and well,  he just couldn’t quite get it up. “Yeah, fuck yes please.” he groaned. You laid down on your bed as he walked to his wallet, pulling out that little gold wrapper. He climbed up on top of you, using his thumb to gently brush the hair away from your face. He looked ecstatic, the drunken-ness painting a stupid grin across his face and making you just feel insanely horny. He slid the condom on over his already throbbing cock, positioning it just outside your entrance.
He slid just the tip in first, making you wince. You needed to get used to how big he was, learn how to take him. His hips rocked gently as he gave you more each time, slowly starting to fill you up.
“God I needed this,” you moaned breathlessly. “Yeah baby?” he cooed, giving you more of him as he pressed his lips against your tits, leaving marks along your cleavage. “Making sure you don’t forget this in the morning,” he smirked, his confidence returning. “Then fuck me like I won’t forget it,” you clapped back, basically saying you wanted all of him.
“Oh yeah?” He thrusted inside you, making you cry out in ecstasy. No dick had ever felt this good before, and maybe it was because you were drunk, but you could just tell he was hitting it like he fucking meant it. Your hands clawed into his back, legs wrapped around him, pulling him deeper inside. He was pounding into you now, the sound of your bodies echoing throughout the room. You watched as he slid in and out. “You like watching huh baby? Like seeing how good you are at taking me?” 
You grabbed his hair in response, pulling his head into your neck and making him groan and fuck you harder. His tip found your g-spot, and the feeling was unlike any other. Watching his muscles ripple with each thrust, so far inside you he was nearly in your stomach. You squirted all around his cock, leaving his abs glistening. He bit his lip and looked at you, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “God that is so hot.” he wasted no time getting back to the rhythm of things.
This sex was truly unlike anything else. Watching the man you saw as a teammate, so vulnerable above you. Completely naked, so far inside you. And you were taking him so well, the sexual chemistry between the two of you just completely undeniable. You made great hitting partners on the court, and that relationship suddenly didn’t feel so different from this one. The way you both knew exactly what the other wanted. The perfect balance of teasing and support. “Fuck, fuck.” Art’s moans were primal, and you could feel how close he was getting, watching his arms tense up. “I’m gonna cum too,” you said breathlessly.
“Look at me,” he grabbed your jaw, making you lock eyes.
It was like an explosion, overtaking every inch of skin on your body. You cried out, feeling his cock throb inside your pussy as you came simultaneously. You fit perfectly together, feeling each other up as you rode out your orgasms. His hand was wrapped around your arm, yours clawed into his back. He collapsed onto your chest, looking up at you in awe.
“You are unbelievable.”
dividers by : @.cafekitsune
2K notes · View notes
enha-stars · 3 months
Text
✧ Matchy, matchy ; S.J
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Pairing: Bf!Jake x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: To be loved is to be known. And you were. And he was, too. You knew him and he knew you, and neither of you would have it any other way.
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, down bad jake, down bad reader, freak: matched (lovingly), abandoned food, kissing, suggestive, gift giving as a love language,
A/n: happy anniversary to my beloved, @karinasbaby . My love for her inspired this, so… comeback?? Possibly. Stay tuned.
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In the dimly lit, slightly damp hallway, Jake carefully turned the key in the lock, pushing the door open with the gentlest of nudges to avoid any noise. He slipped inside his apartment, his footsteps silent against the hardwood floor. The soft glow of evening light filtered through the curtains, casting a warmth hue over the room.
He was about to head to your shared bedroom when an enticing aroma caught his attention, causing him to stop mid-step. His heart skipped a beat as he realized the source of the delightful smell was in fact, coming from his kitchen.
Tip-toeing closer, Jake poked his head into the kitchen to the sight of you standing at the stove, your back turned to him. You were humming a soft tune, completely absorbed in your cooking. The sight of you, dressed in one of his old t-shirts, hair loosely tied up, glasses resting on your head, made his heart swell until it almost burst out of his chest. 
Jake’s lips curved into a bright smile as he quietly moved towards you, setting the gift bag down by the wall. Careful not to make a sound, he reached your side and paused for a moment, taking in the scene. The table was set for two, candles ready to be lit, and the counters were adorned with fresh ingredients. Jake recognized the variety on the table and his smile widened. He knew what avocados and limes meant and his stomach rumbled.
Unable to resist any longer, he stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. You let out a small gasp of surprise, dropping the spoon you were holding as you turned your head to look at him, heart beating rapidly and eyes wide.
“Jake! Oh my gosh,” you exhaled, trying to catch your breath. “You scared me.” The smile that had twisted onto your lips and the sparkle in your shiny eyes told him that he had the same affect on you that you had on him. 
Jake kissed your cheek softly, nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, angel.” He did, and she knew it, too. “I just couldn’t resist.” 
You laughed, a sound he was sure the tides pushed towards because you were a celestial being to him, bright and unearthly. If he could bottle your laugh and drink it, have it swim in his veins forever, he would. 
“Well, I missed you and I wanted to surprise you. How was the harbor?” You picked up the spoon once more and stirred the pot of beans and ground meat. Knowing this mood of his, you turned off the stove. 
You wouldn’t be eating anytime soon, anyways. 
“It was okay,” he murmured, tightening his embrace. “Riki fell into the water but it only reached his hips.” He grinned against your skin when you snickered. He could feel your body shake beneath his hands and he pressed himself against you tighter. “I missed you, baby.” 
You turned in his arms, facing him fully. Your eyes met his and you could feel every ounce of stress, every fleeting miscellaneous thought, fade away. His eyes, shiny and sparkling, held yours with nothing but heat and affection. 
Jake swallowed, afraid to blink. He was afraid that if he blinked, you may disappear. It didn’t matter how long he had you, he wanted you for longer. He wanted forever. Eternity, even, if he could ask for it. 
Your eyes glazed over his face, taking him in after not seeing him for a few hours. There was a small smudge of dirt under his right eye and you did the only thing you could do. Holding his chin in place, you licked your thumb and rubbed the dirt off his face. 
Jake stared at you feverishly, eyes on your face; taking in the way you slightly pouted your lips, sticking your tongue out a bit. It was a habit you had learned from him, one he cursed himself for all the time.
“There,” you mumbled to yourself. “All clean.” You dropped your hands to his chest and met his gaze. The warmth in it almost made your legs buckle but his grip held you upright. 
“I love you,” he said. Before you could say anything, he dipped his head towards yours. His lips hovered above your own as he whispered, “I got you something.” 
Your eyes fluttered shut and you tilted your head up, trying to meet his lips but he stayed slightly out of reach, forever teasing you. “Yeah? What’d you get me?”
Jake almost gave in, feeling your warm breath against his lips. He wanted to kiss you until you forgot your name, but he enjoyed this. He enjoyed making you wait, the push and pull.
“It’s a surprise,” he mumbled. “You have to sit on the couch.” His lips briefly, for the lightest of seconds, brushed against yours and you almost whined out his name. 
“Jake,” you exhaled, eyes squeezed shut. Jake loved you like this; all bothered and slightly desperate for him. Usually, he was the one like this, the one on the cusp of begging and asking. When he got you like this, oh, you looked stunning. “Come on,” you tried. “Tell me.” 
Jake simply shook his head, his lips brushing against yours tantalizing. “Gotta wait, angel.” His lips curled upwards at the small noise of frustration you made and he stepped back, hands dropping to his side. He watched with heated eyes as you blinked back into yourself. He loved being the only one to have you like this. 
Before he could take another step back, you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him towards you, smashing your lips together. You swallow his slight gasp of surprise and smile against his lips as he melts into it, hands cupping the sides of your face as your lips move harshly against each other. 
Unable to help himself, Jake steps forward and pushes you backwards until your back is flush against the counter. The slight dig makes you gasp in pleasurable pain and he slips his tongue inside your mouth, laying claim to what already belongs to him. He grips the counter, caging you in.
You clutch his shirt, lips moving roughly against his. Jake slots his knee between your legs and the new pressure manages to pull a breathy moan out of you. Jake pulls away, eyes still shut as he tries to catch his breath. There’s a string of saliva that connects your bruised lips and he presses his lips against yours softly, licking your lips clean. 
“Fuck,” he exhales. He opens his eyes and almost groans at the sight of you; breathing deeply, lips red and plump, eyes slightly dazed. You looked almost fucked out and he hasn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.” 
You laughed at his words and slid your hands up to the base of his neck. “So, this gift…” 
Grinning, Jake nipped at your lips before stepping back. “Go sit on the couch, pretty.” He simply shook his head when you frowned at him and he watched you reluctantly walk out of the kitchen and into the living room with eyes filled to the brim with adoration. 
He waited until he heard you fall back onto the couch. Even then, you called out and let him know you were sitting. He was sure his heart was going to burst out his ribs and break through his skin with the amount of love and affection he felt for you. 
Grabbing the small gift bag, Jake made his way to you. When you heard his footsteps, you straightened your back and turned to face him, giving him your utmost attention. Jake often gifted you small, minuscule things, and you loved and appreciated every single thing. It was how he loved, and so you always made sure to focus on him and what his gift was telling you. 
Kneeling down in front of you, he looked up at you as you shifted to the edge of the sofa. You spread your legs a bit and he shuffled between them. His lips twisted and you pinched his nose, immediately seeing the flicker of heat and desire that spread through his eyes. “Don’t even think about it,” you warned. 
“Jokes on you,” he smirked. “I’m always thinking about it.” 
You raised an eyebrow at him and traced the outline of his lips. “Freak.” 
“Matched,” he countered, licking your finger when you pressed it down on his bottom lip. 
You both grinned at each other before he cleared his throat and lifted the gift bag, moving it towards you. Gently, like it was made of gold, which to you, it practically was, you grabbed it and set it down on your thigh. 
Jake watched you curiously as you picked the gift wrapping sheets out of the bag. He stopped breathing momentarily when you reached into the bag and pulled out a small, coffee coloured teddy bear plushie. 
His eyes, which could never and would never stray from you, focused on your expression; the way your eyes widened in surprise and then fondness, the way your small smile twisted into a wide grin before your lips parted in content. He watched as your eyebrows raised in surprise, the way your eyes crinkled. 
You looked so happy, so adorable as you gently patted the bear's head. Lost in the gift, you barely noticed Jake’s warm gaze and the way he shuffled forward, resting his cheek against your other thigh. He was more than pleased with staring at you like this forever. 
“Jake,” you whispered, pulling him out of his staring. He blinked and lifted his head, shaking the hair out of his face. With one hand, you held the bear tightly. With the other, you brushed his hair out his face, smiling a little wobbly. “I love him. What’s the special occasion?” 
Jake shrugged, slightly overcome with emotion. He didn’t think he would be, but you had that effect on him. “It’s uh, well,” he licked his lips. “I saw him at the harbor and thought of you. I knew I had to win it for you.” 
You stared at him, eyes widening at his words before you bit your bottom lip. You glanced at the bear in your hands and let out a quiet chuckle. At the sound, Jake looked back at you, eyes sparkling. 
“Jake,” you sighed. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyes shut automatically and he breathed out in content. “This is actually really funny,” you murmured against his skin. 
“Hm?”
Pulling away, you set the bear down beside you and tapped his head twice. He opened his eyes and frowned in confusion when you motioned for him to move. Looking like a kicked puppy, he shuffled backwards and gave you enough space to get up. 
From the carpet, he watched you as you walked to the breakfast table. You pulled a chair back and grabbed something he couldn’t see. Hiding the item from his sight, you turned to face him. There was a twinkle in your eye, one he loved to see but didn’t understand. 
“Sit up on the couch for me, baby.” You motioned him to get up with your head and like the obedient boyfriend he was, he pushed himself off the carpet and fell back onto the sofa. 
Satisfied, you walked towards him, hiding the item behind your back. Jake tried to glance around you but with one look, he sulked into the couch, crossing his arms. Tsking, you sank to your knees and he immediately spread his legs. 
Your eyes traveled from his thighs up to his eyes and his eyes crinkled in amusement, an arrogant smirk ghosting on his lips. “Thinking about it, aren’t you, angel?”
You licked your lips, trying to focus on the present in your hands. “Don’t be freaky right now, Jake. We’re trying to be sentimental.” 
“So you are thinking about it,” he mused, spreading his legs further. You blinked and tried to ignore his tactics. It wasn’t even your fault really, not when his feelings and excitement were practically staring right in the face. 
Clearing your throat, you pinched his thigh to get his mind out of the gutter. Once the lust in his eyes died down a bit, you smiled bashfully at him. 
“What’re you hiding, angel? What’s in your hand?” He tried to hide the curiosity in his voice but you caught it. Because, while he liked to give you things, you also liked to give him things. Despite his calm demeanor, you knew he was always excited. Just like you were. 
Gosh, the stars really did love you both. 
“Well,” you started. “It’s funny that you got me that bear because I…” When your explanation fell short, you brought the bear in your hand towards Jake, handing it to him. He stared at the chocolate covered teddy bear in pure astonishment, almost like it couldn’t be real. 
You shuffled forward, resting your hand on his thigh. Rubbing small circles on his skin, you tried to ground him. Despite getting small gifts from you all the time, he took them each to heart. You wondered when he would accept the love he deserved. 
With a gentleness that made your stomach tingle, he held the bear carefully in his hand. It was small in his hands, but the weight of it felt almost overwhelming. You watched as his eyes glistened with something adoring, the way his lips parted prettily, curving into a smile so bright and beautiful it could have blinded you. 
“Angel,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “why did you… how?” With soft, featherlike fingers, he caressed the bear as if it was your skin. His eyes were filled with wonder and if you could have captured this moment in its exactness, you would have lived in it. 
“I saw it the other day while I was shopping. It reminded me of you so I bought it.” 
Your words snapped something in him and he set the bear down, eyes ablaze. You barely got enough time to look at him before he scooped you into his arms and set you in his lap. Blinking, you stared at him, dumbfounded. 
With your legs on either side of him, you shuffled a bit closer until you were comfortable. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against his chest, his hands wrapping around your waist. 
“Hi,” you whispered. 
His lips wobbled and he brushed his nose against yours. “Hi, angel.” 
“So, do you like the bear I got you?” 
Pressing a kiss to your jaw, he nodded. “I love it so much. So, so, much. I can’t believe we got matching plushies accidentally.” 
You laughed and kissed the edge of his smile, wanting to bask in it forever. “We match each other's freaks so well. We’re practically soulmates at this point.” 
Pulling away, he gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “The fuck you mean practically? We are soulmates. I’m marrying you. We’re going to die together and be buried together in one casket.” 
“Oh.” You grinned at him. “Okay, baby. Whatever you say.” 
He tiled your head upwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. Then, he grabbed both of the bears and handed you yours while he kept his close to his chest. “What are you naming him?” 
You hummed in thought and stared at the bear in your hand. Naming your plushies was important to you. Names were important, and they had to be meaningful. Jake shouldn’t have been so turned on while watching you think of a name for a plushie, but he was. He knew you could feel it, but, having your priorities straight, you ignored him. 
“I kind of like Buoy.” 
Jake blinked at you before he softly laughed, amazed at your naming ability. “Buoy?” 
“Yeah, Buoy. Named after that slightly orange buoy by the harbor. That, and you’re my anchor. Always keeping me afloat and all.” 
Jake wasn’t a crier, but the amount of times he had almost burst into years tonight had hit a new record. Trying to swallow the emotion that bubbled in his throat, he rested his head against your chest, hiding in your embrace. You laughed at his antics and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 
“What about you? What are you naming her?” 
Jake lifted his head and the look in his eyes made you hold your breath. You could feel every single vein in your body vibrate and you knew you were in for a long night. 
“I’m naming her Quesadilla.” The seriousness in his voice threw you off and you weren’t sure if you should laugh or clap him on the back. Instead, you simply raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Why Quesadilla?” 
“I’m naming her that in honour of the quesadillas we won’t be eating tonight.” 
“What are you–” You were cut off by Jake tightening his grip on you and flipping you over. A surprised laugh escaped your lips as you found yourself lying beneath him on the couch, his body hovering over yours.
You weren’t sure where your bears had gone, but that was the least of your worries. Jake leaned down, his face inches from yours, eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your heart beat in your ears.  “I’m only hungry for you tonight, pretty girl.” His lips hovered above your own and your throat went dry. 
You reached up, your hand cupping his cheek as you smiled up at him. “Have me then, Jake.” 
Jake’s expression softened and he closed the distance between you, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. It was a simple tease, a highlight as to how the night was going to go, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 
You would, after all, have your fun after he had his. 
898 notes · View notes
planetaryupscaled · 2 months
Text
May the Best Sister Win
Male Reader x Heejin x Nana
Tags: 9k, first time, creampie, oral, threesome, tw
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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“Fuck me, please, fuck me...”
I buried my head into Nana’s shoulder, focusing all my energy on thrusting into her tight, wet pussy. She groaned, pulling me into her.
“Cum, please,” she moaned. “I want to cum together...”
Nana and I had met doing theatre in college. She was a beautiful, slim blonde with big brown eyes that complement her features, and her nipples stood pink and pointy on her breasts, which, though small, fit her slender frame. I looked down her body, flushed with coital bliss, to the triangle of trimmed hair between her spread legs, and her open pussy that made a slick sound as I drove into her.
“I’m getting close,” I huffed.
“Cum in me,” Nana said. “Fill me up.”
All of a sudden, we heard a voice from Nana’s living room: “Nan? Nana! HELLO?”
“Shit, that’s Heejin,” Nana whispered to me, rolling off me and throwing on one of my sweaters, which was large on her. “Quick, get dressed.”
My cock was shiny and throbbing, unhappy to be interrupted so close to completion, but there was nothing to be done. I pulled on some gym shorts.
“Hello!” Heejin said in a singsong voice as she burst happily into the room.
I think I managed to get my shorts up in time, but if Heejin saw, she didn’t react.
“Hey, Jin,” Nana said. “Nice of you to do away with that annoying custom of knocking before you enter.”
In my sexually frustrated state, I couldn’t help but notice how pretty Nana’s younger sister was.
Heejin was a freshman beauty with blonde hair that framed her angelic face like a young starlet. She had a petite figure just like her older sister, but with more generous curves, filling out a regular t-shirt with firm, prominent breasts.
“I got a call back!” Heejin happily bounced around, not seeming to notice that Nana and I were flushed and out of sorts from almost having been walked in on.
“That’s... great,” Nana said, hesitating. “That’s impressive, especially for a freshman.”
Nana had told me all about her competitive relationship with Heejin. The same sports teams, the same roles in high school, Heejin even went after some of Nana’s boyfriends back in the day. Nana hadn’t been happy that Heejin had chosen our university, and wouldn’t be happy that Heejin was challenging her for the lead roles in the shows that were once Nana’s uncontested. Still, their mother said they had to live together, so Nana could help Heejin stay sheltered from the worst of college.
“I’m sure I won’t get it, but it’s so cool to even be at callbacks,” Heejin said. “Wow.”
“Suho auditioned too,” Nana said. “He’s a lock for the male lead, I bet.”
Heejin looked me up and down. “He certainly looks like a dashing leading man to me.”
“That, and the fact that everything is easier for men in theater,” I said. “The bar’s not so high.”
“Well, I just wanted to share the good news,” Heejin said, heading for the door. “I’ll see you guys at callbacks! Maybe spend more time practicing, and less time having sex!” She giggled as Nana threw a pillow at her.
“That won’t be a problem for you,” Nana called after her, teasing. “Virgin!”
All we could hear was the sound of Heejin’s cute laughter as she slammed the door of her room.
“Oh, huh,” Nana said, studying the callback pairings on the sign-up sheet. “I have to do my scenes with Minsoo.”
Minsoo was a good friend of ours, a theater die-hard who would get the lead role every time if he were able to act convincingly straight. Unfortunately for him and luckily for me, our theater director Hanjae refused to believe him as a romantic interest for the women.
“Better than a random stranger,” I said. Minsoo was a good guy. “Who am I doing mine with?” I studied the list. Then my stomach dropped. “Oh, shit.” I was supposed to do the kissing scene with Heejin.
Nana saw it, too. “You and Heejin? Of course you two would be paired up.”
“I’m sure I can ask Hanjae to switch us.”
“No, it’s okay,” Nana said. “What he says goes, and you don’t want to make him mad.” She kissed me on the cheek. “Have fun. It’ll be the thrill of Heejin’s life. She’s always gone after my boyfriends anyway.”
Just as Nana disappeared to run lines with Minsoo, Heejin spotted me from down the hallway and came up to me. She was dressed in a t-shirt, as usual, but this one had a lower neckline, offering me a tantalizing view of her cleavage. From what I could see, her tits were perfect, soft and smooth. I tried not to look at them as she approached.
“So, we’re together, huh?”
“Guess so.”
Heejin darted in and kissed me quickly, just a quick peck on the lips. I pulled back, too late, surprised.
“What was that for?”
“Just to get the awkwardness out of the way,” Heejin said. “Now we’ve had our first kiss.”
We found an empty classroom ran through lines quickly. I kept stumbling over mine, distracted by the beautiful girl in front of me. When we got to the kissing scene, Heejin lowered her script, looked me in the eyes and came in close to kiss me. I caught a light scent of a sexy perfume on her neck as she tilted her head up.
I hesitated. This was my girlfriend’s little sister; wouldn’t it be weird to kiss? I mean, to really kiss? Heejin, luckily, made the decision for me. She pressed her soft, full lips to mine, kissing me gently. I reacted, putting a hand on her cheek and pulling her closer to me, our lips working against each other. She tasted like mint. It went on longer than it had to — her character was supposed to pull away, but Heejin didn’t. Finally, I stopped it.
“Whew,” Heejin said breathlessly, cheeks turned pink and her chest heaving. “That felt good, right?”
I was half hard and I tried to secretly adjust my cock.
“Yeah,” I said. “You’re —” I almost said “You’re a good kisser,” but I stopped myself. “I think we’ll do great in the audition.”
We were finally called into the audition room. Behind a folding table sat Hanjae, the theater director, and a few of his assistants. We said hi, chatted quickly, and then got into the scene. Heejin and I were playing secret lovers. I was the stable boy and she was the Lady of the manor, whose husband was unfaithful. In the scene, I approached her for the first time, professing my love and begging her to kiss me.
When it came time, Heejin pressed herself to me with a little less passion than when it had just been us alone, but the kiss was still electric. She pulled back at just the right time, her character berating mine for showing such rough manners. But I could tell by her rosy cheeks that the second kiss affected her just as much as the first.
After we finished the scene and went back into the hallway, Nana came up to us.
“How’d it go?”
“Perfect,” Heejin said, punching me lightly in the arm. “Once Suho got around his hesitation to fully kiss me.”
Nana made a face. “The less I have to think about it, the better.”
“Your scene went well, too?” Heejin asked sweetly, changing the subject.
“Sure did.”
“Then may the best sister win.”
“That little bitch,” Nana fumed, staring angrily at the cast list. She had run ahead and gotten to it before I got a chance to look. “She took my fucking lead role.”
My stomach clenched. If Heejin was the female lead, then...
“God damn it.”
“What?” Nana looked down the list. Her eyes widened even further. “Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!”
I had landed the male lead. Heejin and I would be making out and simulating sex onstage for the next several months. I can’t say I didn’t feel any excitement at the prospect, but as Nana’s loving boyfriend, I had to share her frustration.
“We can ask Hanjae to switch us up,” I said.
“He’ll never do that! His casting decisions are always final, you know that! The only way he’ll switch it up is if Heejin agrees to it.”
Right on cue, I saw Heejin’s golden curls coming down the hallway towards us. Nana hurried up to her.
“You can’t take the lead role,” Nana said. “It’s you and Suho.”
Heejin took in this news and smiled at me. “I’m happy that Hanjae made the right choice.”
“Heejin, I’m a senior and you’re a freshman. This is my last chance at the lead before graduating.”
“I’m sorry,” Heejin shrugged, innocently. “I don’t know what you expect me to do. If this is about Suho, then I promise he loves you enough that kissing me a few times a night won’t change that.”
“It’s not just about that,” Nana said. “This was my theater program, not yours.”
“WAS your theater program,” Heejin said.
With a roar, Nana jumped at Heejin, and the two girls fell to the floor, clawing and pushing at each other. I watched them get tangled up with each other, then realized I should probably step in. I pulled Nana off of Heejin.
“Hey, whoa, calm down.”
“You’re such a bitch,” Nana snarled at Heejin.
Heejin dusted herself off and got up. “Fine, big sis. You want me to give you the lead role? Come walk with me. I have an idea for a wager.”
Nana frowned, trying to tell if Heejin was serious.
“Fine,” she said, hesitant. “But this better be good.”
“Oh, it’ll be VERY good,” Heejin said with a look at me. “Now come. Time for some sister talk.”
I watched the two sisters walk away, deep in conversation. Heejin glanced back in my direction, and I couldn’t help but wonder whether this wager involved me.
A few days passed. Rehearsals began in earnest, but Hanjae kept stopping Heejin and me midway through our scenes together.
“I don’t believe the passion,” he snapped. “You two touch each other like robotic, not sexy.”
Heejin flushed with embarrassment. The rest of the rehearsal she was withdrawn, not willing to look me in the eye. We went through our scenes, but if anything, she was colder and more mechanical than before.
After rehearsal, I pulled her aside in the hallway. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” Heejin said.
“Don’t worry about what Hanjae said. He thinks you have to be mean to get the best performances out of people.”
“Maybe he’s right, though.” She looked around, making sure no one could hear. “Because I don’t know anything about sex.”
I spotted an empty classroom down the hall and pulled Heejin into it. She looked like she was about to cry. I put my hands on her shoulders.
“You’re doing a great job, you’re a great, and you don’t need real-life experience to get into the role. We’ll both figure it out, it’s only the first week of rehearsals.”
“What if I can’t figure it out?”
“You will.”
Heejin nodded, sniffling. She smiled shyly. “Plus, I’ve got you to teach me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You obviously know a lot about sex and everything,” Heejin said, embarrassed. “I can hear you and my sister sometimes.”
I didn’t know how to feel about that. Heejin flushed.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t listen, I know, but... it’s sexy to hear how much you love each other’s… bodies. I’ve never... done it, so I don’t know.”
“Yeah, Nana said as much.”
There was a charged pause. Glancing down, I could see Heejin’s nipples through her shirt. Did she never wear a bra around me? Was that on purpose? My cock was quickly getting hard.
“Hanjae said we really needed to commit to the role,” Heejin said. “That includes the romance of it, right? The characters are supposed to feel each other up.”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what? So you’re dating my sister, who cares? We have a play to do. She understands that the show must go on.”
Heejin took my hand, then guided me to her breast. As I felt the soft, firm flesh of her tits beneath her sweater, I realized that she wasn’t wearing a bra. I could feel her nipple hardening under my touch. Her breasts were unbelievably shapely even without a bra, standing perfectly from Heejin’s chest. I let out a breath, impressed. Heejin smiled.
“What do you think?”
“They’re... amazing.”
“Not too big? I know Nana’s are more petite.”
“You two have some of the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen,” I said truthfully.
Heejin smiled. “It must run in the family.”
“You’ve never been told what incredible breasts you have?”
“You’re the first one to get an up-close view. I’ve never even had a boyfriend,” she admitted. “I’ve been too busy with theater.”
“Wow.” I realized I was still cupping her breast and quickly took my hand away, embarrassed. She laughed that same cute laugh.
“You can touch them all you want,” she said. “It feels nice.”
I wanted to keep feeling her up. What guy would say no, in my position? But I cleared my throat and took a step back.
“We should get to practicing,” I said. “We’ll have to have something to show for today.”
Then Heejin said something I’ll never forget.
“Sometimes I touch myself to the sound of you two,” Heejin said, quiet. “Right at the end, when she’s begging you to cum inside her, that’s my favorite.”
My mouth was dry. “You touch yourself to the sound of us?”
“My sister must have a really amazing pussy, if she can get you to cum inside her so much.”
A picture of it sprang to my mind: two plump outer lips that sealed tightly, with the inner lips only visible when she spread her legs. A fuzzy dusting of light hair. Maybe a drop of my cum oozing from her. Nana’s small nipples, twin peaks further up her lithe body.
“Wow, you’re hard.” Heejin was staring directly at my cock.
“Yeah...”
She reached out her small hand to feel me. I inhaled sharply, taking her hand.
“Don’t, Heejin.”
“Nana won’t know.”
“I’ll know.”
“You’re just helping me. I need to practice being sexual for the role.”
I stared at her. Was she serious? What was she even proposing?
She took my hand and guided it under her dress. As she used her other hand to pull aside her panties, my hand came in contact with a wet, shaven pussy. I ran my middle finger up her hot slit, making her moan. Then I pulled my hand away, realizing what I was doing.
“Wait, Heejin...”
“Yeah. Let me do you.”
She unbuckled my belt and undid the button of my trousers, maintaining eye contact with me. Before I knew it she was on her knees, pulling down my pants. I wish I could say that I pushed her away, but I was horny enough to let it continue without protest. I wanted her badly enough to invite whatever catastrophe lay down the road.
Heejin took out my cock, which was harder than I remember it ever being.
“Wow,” she said with awe. “I guess I didn’t expect it to be so… big.”
She gave it a squeeze, then stroked it. I throbbed in her hand.
“I’ve never touched one before.”
“You don’t have to —”
Heejin sank her mouth onto my cock. The sudden warmth and wetness was heavenly. Her tongue swirled around my shaft and she slid her lips back up until just the tip was in her mouth. I noticed that she was still wearing lipstick from rehearsal.
“Give me pointers,” she said, her words muffled around my dick.
“Don’t worry about that,” I replied. “Just explore. I’m probably not going to be able to last for long anyway.”
At this Heejin smiled and eagerly set to sucking my cock. It seemed she took that as a challenge. She started slow, letting me feel the warmth and softness of her inexperienced mouth, then began to speed up. Sure enough, I felt the tingly beginnings of a climax. It was unsurprising; my girlfriend’s younger sister, a beautiful woman with a perfect mix of innocence and sexiness, was blowing me.
I swelled in her mouth, unable to hold back my orgasm for much longer. Her ruby red lips were stretched around my cock, working up and down ceaselessly. I watched my cock disappear into her mouth over and over.
“Heejin, I’m getting close...”
In response, she just kept bobbing her warm, wet mouth on my dick, taking as much of me in her mouth as she could. She looked up at me, big brown eyes that looked so innocent, right over a mouth full of cock, and I could hold back no longer.
“Heejin, I’m going to cum...”
I had barely finished the sentence before my cock began to spurt cum into Heejin’s waiting mouth. Her eyes widened in surprise but she kept on sucking me as I came. I shook, my hands going involuntarily to her head, trying to push deeper into her throat, filling her mouth with my semen. I rode out my climax between her full lips, cumming intensely until a small bit of my cum dripped out around my cock.
She looked up at me, slowing the up-and-down motion on my shaft, then swallowed her mouthful my cum. With her pinkie finger, she brought the one escaped drop of cum back to her mouth and swallowed that, too.
“Good?” Heejin asked, breathing hard.
“Best blowjob I’ve ever had.”
Heejin smiled and kept licking me. When I was sucked dry and she had completely cleaned off my cock, she took me out of her mouth and looked up at me.
“There you go. Nice and spotless for when you fuck my sister later.”
I didn’t know what to say or do. “Oh my god, Heejin.”
Heejin planted an adorable and sexy kiss on the tip of my cock, which shone with her spit.
“Now when I hear you tonight, I’ll know you’re thinking about cumming in my mouth when you finish in my sister.”
“It was a little awkward having to kiss,” I said to Nana at home. “But we got through it.”
Nana kissed me, long and deep. “Who’s the better kisser?”
In truth, my initial thought was Heejin. She had certainly kissed my cock better than Nana did. Or maybe it was just the forbidden risk of it all. Either way, I wasn’t going to tell her anything about her younger sister’s skill in the romance department.
“You,” I said, sweeping her into my arms. She grinded into me, making me hard, and I walked her to the bed.
Later, as I fucked Nana’s tight, wet pussy, my thoughts kept being dragged back to Heejin’s lips on me, her rosy cheeks stretching as I filled her mouth with my cum. When I groaned and emptied myself into Nana, I imagined it was Heejin below me, her legs spread, soaking pussy stretched around my cock. I imagined driving hard into her tight young slit and filling her up.
When Nana moaned out for me to cum inside her, I knew Heejin was somewhere close by, listening. And despite the fact that it was the second time that day, I came harder than usual.
The next weeks of rehearsal raced by. Heejin and I were so busy with school and rehearsal that we didn’t get the opportunity to be alone together, but she’d hold my gaze just long enough to let me know she was still thinking about me and what we’d done. Our love scenes onstage became more realistic, to the delight of Hanjae. We were now kissing, pawing at each other, and fake dry humping with ease. I suppose it was hard to hold back romantically once she’d swallowed my cum.
My sex life with Nana improved drastically, wound up as I always was from pretending to fuck her little sister in rehearsal. I fucked Nana like an animal, filling her up several times a night, cumming inside her with reckless abandon.
“You should be quieter,” Nana panted to me one night as I withdrew my cock from her cum-filled pussy. “Heejin’s in the other room, she must hear us sometimes.”
“You’re right,” I said. “Sorry.”
Nana reached down and caught some of my cum as it dripped out of her. She brought her fingers to her mouth, licking them off.
“You’ve been cumming more than usual,” she said.
I cuddled up to her from behind. “You’ve been sexier than usual.”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said, with a hint of scepticism in her voice. “Maybe.”
Before we knew it, the dress rehearsal had arrived. It was the day before the show, and everything had to go perfectly here, or it’d be a bad opening night. I murmured “Break a leg” to everyone I passed in the winding hallways backstage.
As the lead, I had my own dressing room. It was a rare luxury, but better than getting naked in front of everyone in the communal dressing rooms. I began to take off my street clothes when I heard a knock at the door.
“One minute, I’m changing,” I called out. I was only in my underwear.
The door opened anyway. In the mirror, I saw Heejin enter, wearing a robe and carrying her costume. She shut the door behind her before anyone could see her.
“Sorry to drop in on you like this,” Heejin said apologetically, “but I can’t get this bodice thingy on. Every time I try, I feel like it’s suffocating me.” She shook the costume in frustration and put it on the rack in my small dressing room.
“Do you want help?”
“Yeah, thanks. Maybe I’m just nervous, or maybe I shouldn’t have eaten that cheeseburger yesterday.”
I laughed. “It’ll be fine. Let me try.”
She hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Suho. You’re the best.”
Then she slipped the robe off her shoulders. Underneath, Heejin was completely naked. She wasn’t even wearing panties under the robe. Her breasts were like a painting. Smooth, firm, round, perfectly proportioned to her toned body. My eyes traveled down from her perfect breasts, firm and large on her petite frame with beautifully hard nipples, to —
“God, Heejin.”
Her pussy, which had been completely hairless when I first touched it all those weeks ago, now had a fuzzy dusting of close-trimmed pubic hair.
“Trying to copy Nana, I guess. Since you like hairy pussies.”
I didn’t think to ask why she knew her older sister had a hairy pussy.
I reached out my hand to Heejin. I cupped her cheek, then traced my fingers down her neck to her collarbone, then down the beautiful slope of her breasts, stopping to lightly pinch her nipple. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.
I brought my hand further down, down her stomach and over the triangle of hair between her legs, then felt the wetness between her lips. I slowly inched one finger up into Heejin’s little pussy, feeling how tight she was inside. I’d been in her mouth, and I’d touched the outside of her pussy, but this was as far inside her as I’d gone.
Just as Heejin leaned in to kiss me, hand going to my throbbing erection, there was a knock on the door.
“Suho? Can I come in?” It was Nana.
Heejin dashed backwards, looking for a place to hide. The room was small and didn’t have many options, but Heejin pressed her naked form behind the rack of costumes.
I cursed myself, trying to pull on my pants. My finger was still wet with Heejin’s juices, which wouldn’t do. Without thinking, I stuck my finger in my mouth, tasting her.
“Suho?”
“Coming!” I answered the door, just wearing my costume pants. I kept the door mostly closed, to stop Nana from coming in.
Nana was in the doorway holding a clipboard and wearing a headset. As the understudy for the main role, she had to have some role in the show, so she was a stage hand.
“It’s five minutes until showtime,” she said.
“Thanks.”
She leaned in to kiss me. Without thinking, I kissed her back, then cursed inwardly. I hoped my mouth didn’t taste like pussy. When she pulled away, I thought I detected a slight frown on her face, but she turned and left without another word.
I closed the door. Heejin, still naked, stepped out from behind the costume rack. She had the most beautiful body I’d ever seen.
“Five minutes,” I repeated to her.
“Thank you, five,” she said with a grin. “Now, want to fit me into this dress?”
It took some manoeuvring to tie the bodice up, and Heejin gasped at the tight fit that pressed her breasts up high, but there was no time to enjoy it. We had to get into our positions.
As Heejin quickly pulled her stockings up, I got a glimpse up her dress to her pussy.
“You’re not wearing underwear,” I said.
“I know.” Heejin quickly hurried to the door, her breasts bouncing in the corset. “See you onstage!”
The knowledge that Heejin wore nothing under her heavy costume dress made the onstage love scenes even more enjoyable. At the point in the show where we were supposed to simulate sex on a bed behind the main action onstage, Heejin whispered to me between kisses.
“This is the first time Nana’s seen us do this, you know.”
Sure enough, I could see Nana sitting with other crew members in the audience. Thanks to the lights, I couldn’t make out her expression, but I knew she was watching.
“Let’s give them a show,” Heejin said, and grinded herself against me even more sexually.
By the end of the show, I was so sexually frustrated that everything could have set me off. Heejin’s enticing young body was so tantalizingly close, yet so far. As we took our mock bows and headed offstage, Heejin whispered in my ear: “Wait for me in the dressing room.”
I waited for Heejin in the dressing room for almost a half hour. She never showed. When I finally got fed up waiting and came out, I found Nana and Heejin seated together. Heejin had changed back into her clothes, but I couldn’t help wondering whether she’d put underwear on.
“Hey, you two.”
“You took forever in there,” Nana said.
Heejin gave me a “Sorry” look.
“Great job, you guys!” Nana said. She seemed genuinely excited for us. “I think that went great!”
Heejin and I smiled and agreed.
“A couple screw-ups,” Heejin said, “but nothing that can’t be fixed before tomorrow.”
When we got home later that night, Nana pulled me away into her room. She was on me immediately, hungrily pulling off my clothes.
“God, you looked so sexy onstage,” she said. “I wanted to jump you right in front of everybody.”
She pulled down her pants, then mounted me, bottomless. She moved her soaking slit against my painfully hard cock, but stopped short of slipping me inside her yet.
“It was weird seeing you kiss Heejin at first,” she said, “but by the end I kind of liked it.”
She angled my cock into her pussy and began to sink her tight, wet heat down onto me. My face contorted with pleasure.
“Do you get hard when you’re with Heejin onstage?” Nana asked as she slowly fucked me.
I was shocked by the question. My shock must have shown on my face, because Nana laughed and kissed me. We were fully connected, my cock deep inside her and her petite body pressed into mine.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s a physical response, not something you can control.”
My cock throbbed inside her. I was nearing orgasm.
“Tell me,” she said, speeding up on my cock.
“Sometimes, I guess,” I said, breathing heavily. I was going to cum.
“That’s okay, baby,” Nana moaned in my ear. “She can feel you hard all she wants, as long as you bring that cum home to where it belongs… right up inside me.”
With that, I shot off in her, pumping her full of cum with deep, powerful strokes. The feeling of me cumming in her set Nana off too, and together we came while I was still inside her. Finally, I pulled out of her, looking down at her tight pussy with open lips, between which my cum dribbled out. Nana lay back on the bed, her legs spread, still wearing her shirt. She yawned, stretching, and as she did so she lifted her pussy off the bed, causing another dribble of cum to come out.
“I didn’t realize how tired I was,” Nana said. “Come cuddle me.”
I held her until I felt her breathing become slow and regular, indicating that she’d fallen asleep. Then I got up and padded out into the hallway, heading in the direction of the bathroom, though I knew what awaited me before I got there.
Halfway down the hallway, Heejin’s door opened and she came out wearing a sheer nightie. Even in the low light, I could see her nipples poking through the fabric. Her eyes went to my half-erection clearly visible through my tight boxers. She beckoned me inside, and I followed silently. She pulled off her nightie, then turned to face me, fully naked. Heejin led me to the bed and pulled down my boxers.
“This is too risky,” I whispered. “What if your sister comes to check where I am?”
Heejin touched my cock, still wet and sticky with residual slickness from Nana’s pussy.
“Then she’ll see me tasting her on your cock.” Heejin licked slowly up the side of my shaft, savoring the taste of her older sister’s pussy on me. “Mm. Nana has a delicious pussy, doesn’t she?”
“Sisters don’t usually taste each other’s pussies.”
“I’m not getting it from the source,” Heejin said quietly as she bobbed her mouth up and down on my cock. “I’m still just sucking a dick. Nothing wrong with that. Besides...” I saw Heejin dip her finger into her own pussy, then bring it to her mouth and suck it clean. “I have to make sure I taste better than her.”
She resumed blowing me. Despite just having finished fucking Nana, I found myself getting close to cumming in Heejin’s mouth. She felt me swell and pulled me out. I was about to ask what she was doing, when she climbed up on the bed and spread her legs. Light came through her window, falling across her perfect body and her glistening, hairy vulva.
“I want you to fuck me. Be my first.” She said seductively.
As she spoke, she delicately dipped her middle finger into herself. I watched as her tight lips parted to accept her finger.
The prospect of fucking the freshman beauty was enticing. But I’d been spurting cum in her sister’s pussy barely 15 minutes ago. That was no way to lose your virginity.
“I just finished with Nana, I’m not gonna be able to go again.”
“I’ll blow you until you’re ready to put it in me —”
“Heejin,” I said firmly. “We can’t have sex.”
“But the whole show today, I could feel you hard against me,” Heejin said. Her voice quavered. “What is it? You don’t like me? You’d rather fuck Nana than me?”
“No, no, it’s not that at all —”
“Then what? Does she have a better pussy than me?”
“Heejin — it’s not like that”
I climbed onto the bed, moving up to kiss Heejin. As I did, I pressed my body to hers, feeling her hard nipples against my chest and her wet pussy against the outside of my boxers. I grinded into her for a moment, but stopped it before it went any further by beginning to kiss my way down her body. First her breasts, then her toned stomach...
“Fuck...” Heejin breathed. I grinned inwardly; two months ago, the sheltered freshman wouldn’t have been cursing. Now I was about to eat her pussy.
I kissed Heejin’s inner thighs, teasing her and making her thrust up towards me, trying to get me to put my mouth on her. But I kept kissing anywhere but her pussy, feeling the heat and wetness increasing with her arousal.
Finally, I licked Heejin’s pussy. She tasted incredible, clean and womanly, and she was so sensitive and worked up that it only took ten or fifteen seconds before I could feel her body stiffening in anticipation of an orgasm. I kept up pressure on her clit, steadily working my tongue in circles.
Heejin grabbed me by the head, involuntarily mashing my face into her pussy, then came with a great shuddering moan. I reached up one hand, slick from finger-fucking her, to silence her, but all she did was suck on my fingers while I kept licking her from below.
When she was finally done with her long orgasm, she brought my head up to her to sloppily make out. My lips were covered with the taste of her, but she clearly wasn’t shy about tasting herself.
“Oh my god, you’re amazing,” Heejin said, panting. “But we have to return you to Nana soon.”
Heejin put her mouth back on me, blowing me with eagerness. After making her cum with my mouth, I was pretty worked up. It didn’t take me long to unload in her mouth for the second time. Now I wasn’t so timid, fucking her mouth as I spurted cum down her throat. She moaned sexily and happily drank me up.
She opened her mouth so I could see the mouthful of my semen she’d collected. Then she put two fingers in her mouth, took some of my cum, and…
“Heejin, no —”
Heejin stuck her cum-covered fingers inside her pussy. I could only watch as she fucked herself to another small orgasm, her fingers taking the place my cock would have been. She’d still found a way to get my cum in her pussy, and gasped in pleasure as she worked my semen in and out of her already sopping slit.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
“Sorry, Suho,” she breathed. “I had to.”
“That’s dangerous, Heejin. You could get pregnant.”
“I don’t like when Nana gets things I don’t. And that includes your cum in her.”
Opening night came at last. I was overwhelmed with nerves, both excited at the prospect of putting on a great show and nervous to think what would happen with Heejin. The girl had been acting bolder and bolder, and I worried she’d try to do something extreme.
But as the evening before the show wore on, my fear faded. Heejin ignored me completely, focused on getting into character. Everyone buzzed with excitement and nervousness, and I soon was so caught up in it that I forgot almost entirely about the strange sexual relationship I had been building up with Heejin.
It was a function of the show, I told myself. Just us getting into character and letting that character bleed over into our real lives. But once the show was done, I would return to Nana’s side, Heejin would go off and find herself a boyfriend, and everything would be right in the world again.
At least, that’s what I told myself.
I don’t know if I even believed it at the time.
I checked my costume in the mirror of my dressing room one last time before nodding, satisfied, and joining the fray.
“Break a leg,” Nana said, kissing me briefly before heading out to the theater to find her seat. I watched her go. For all she knew, I felt as awkward as her about this whole situation. But in truth my feelings were more complicated than that.
Heejin and I waited with the other actors in the wings as Hanjae introduced the show. I looked up to find Heejin staring at me intensely.
I gave her “What’s going on?” look.
Heejin, in response, lifted up her skirt ever so slowly. She was standing behind the other actors, so I was the only one who could see. As she flashed me, I saw with a twinge that, like yesterday, she was wearing no panties. I caught a short peek of her pussy.
That’s when I knew things weren’t going back to normal.
The show began normally, everyone hitting their marks and remembering their lines perfectly.
The trouble came when Heejin and I fell into bed together at the rear of the stage. Our characters were supposed to be having sex under the nose of Heejin’s character’s husband, but while the scene went on in front of us Heejin kissed me and pressed her body into mine harder than usual.
Carefully, timing her motions with our stage humping, Heejin reached down between us and unbuckled my pants.
“What are you doing?” I said quietly, between kisses.
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“Shhhh,” was all she said.
I looked out into the audience. Despite the stage lights, I could see Nana’s blonde hair in the crowd. She was watching us.
Under the covers, Heejin pulled down my boxers and fished my cock out. I was hard and huge in her small hand.
“Heejin, no —”
Heejin angled herself on top of me, pressing her stomach into my cock, trapping it between us. I prayed that was it, that all she wanted was a little humping, but then she slid up me. My cock, still hard and flat against my stomach, came into contact with her hairy mound. I tried to move away, but she was on top and we had to keep doing the scene, or we’d draw attention and get caught.
I felt a wet heat come into contact with my cock. She grinded her pussy up and down the underside of my cock, getting it wet with her slickness.
My tip was slotted between her wet lips. She thrust her hips up and down, letting the tip of my cock run along the cleft of her pussy and come to rest right at her soaked opening, teasing me each time with a tantalizing dip of my cockhead into her pussy. I could do nothing to stop it.
“Heejin,” I whispered. “please don’t do this, look at how many people are watching... and we’re unprotected.”
“That’s the whole fun of it all,” she said. “I want you bare inside me.”
She began to slide me inside her. My cock parted her trimmed lips and pushed into her inch by inch, her wet cunt stretching slowly to accommodate me. She was soaking wet, hot and beautifully tight, the kind of pussy that made me forget every other woman I’d ever been inside of, because this one seemed designed for my cock. I went slowly, the pleasure coursing through us.
When I had sunk into her to the hilt, we stopped.
“There we go,” Heejin breathed. “Now Nana can’t call me a virgin anymore.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but at that moment Heejin and I remembered we were onstage. We had been so distracted by our actual sex that we’d forgotten to simulate it for the audience.
“We need to keep going,” I whispered, pulling her tighter to me.
“I agree,” she said, bringing her pussy up and down, fucking me with an aching slowness. I wondered if Nana had ever told Heejin what I liked, or if she knew instinctively. God, she was tight. As I rolled my head over, I spotted Nana’s blonde mane in the audience.
“Nana’s watching,” I breathed into Heejin’s ear. My cock throbbed inside her, egged on by the risk and mind-bending pleasure Heejin’s young, perfect body was giving me.
“Good,” Heejin panted quietly. “I want her to watch as her boyfriend cums inside me.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that she wouldn’t pull me out. I didn’t want to cum in her, risking a pregnancy that would make the entire situation far worse. Knocking up your girlfriend’s little sister is never a good place to be, so I tried to move backward, but she was on top and I was too deep in her.
“You’re not on birth control,” I gasped, aware of how quickly the tight wetness of her around my cock was bringing me towards orgasm.
“I know. We’re being really bad.”
“Heejin, Heejin, fuck —”
My climax was approaching like a freight train. I couldn’t help it — I thrust into Heejin’s clenching tunnel with ferocity, her breasts bouncing slightly in the corset, right at my face. I wanted to reach out and tear off her dress, kiss her everywhere, but could do nothing but chastely kiss Heejin’s lips, otherwise the audience might know something was too real about the way I was thrusting into her under her dress and the covers.
“Cum in me,” she whispered in my ear. “Cum in your girlfriend’s little sister. Fill up my tight little pussy in front of everyone.”
I could feel her inner walls flexing, milking me. My cock swelled within her. With one last glance at Nana, I thrust up into Heejin’s pussy and let go.
I nearly blacked out in pleasure as I shot spurt after spurt of cum up into Heejin. She gasped, too loud, as my warmth splashed into her, then began to shudder and moan into my shoulder, grinding her clit hard into me. We were cumming simultaneously, me emptying all I had into her, and her body shaking, racked with pleasure. At that moment I didn’t care that people were watching. I just wanted her.
I quickly filled up her unprotected pussy with my cum, until I could feel it dripping out of her as I kept thrusting. She rode out the rest of her climax on my cock.
We’d both finished quicker than the allotted time for our lovemaking onstage, so we were forced to keep fucking even as my cock softened and came out of her cum-soaked pussy. I could feel cum dripping out of her slit onto my cock, and hoped none of it got on the costume.
Finally, the lights went down and the scene change began. Heejin and I rolled off each other with one final kiss. I tucked my cock back into my pants and she pulled her dress down. We went our separate ways in the soft light of the glow in the dark stage tape.
“Great job,” Hanjae whispered to me backstage. “Very believable.”
As we bowed to the applauding audience, Heejin squeezed my hand. Over the din, she said into my ear: “I can still feel you inside of me.”
“Good,” I said back.
I made my way to the dressing room, congratulating my cast mates on the way. Everyone was excited from a successful show, but I was still dazed, trying to work through what had happened with Heejin onstage. Had anyone seen us? Had we left behind any evidence? Would she get pregnant? Would Nana find out?
With all these thoughts swimming in my head, I opened the door to my dressing room. Nana was already there, waiting for me.
“Hello,” I said, not knowing what else to say. I shut the door behind me.
“You and Heejin did amazing work out there,” Nana said. She kissed me. “This time I couldn’t wait until we got home to fuck you.”
I knew I couldn’t have sex right away, seeing as I was still covered with the evidence of Heejin fucking me.
“Nana, wait —”
Nana pulled down my pants, revealing my semi-hard cock. It was shiny, still wet with Heejin’s pussy fluids and a residual amount of my cum. Nana grabbed it, feeling the wetness. She dropped to her knees.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you just fucked somebody.”
I tried to stop her, but she stuffed my cock into her mouth before I could say anything. Nana swirled her tongue around my slick cock, looking directly up at me. I watched, rapt, as she sucked her little sister’s juices off my hardening shaft, moaning around my cock. Was she... enjoying this? She had to know it was Heejin’s pussy she was tasting.
I tried to pull away.
“Wait, Nana, I’m sorry, but onstage... Heejin slipped me into her...”
Nana lifted off my cock. “You don’t think I recognize the taste of my little sister on my boyfriend’s cock? You two are fine actors, but not good enough to make real sex look fake. I could see every second of you coming inside her.”
At that, my dick jumped in Nana’s hand. She engulfed my cock with her warm mouth, bobbing up and down, sucking me. Then she looked up at me again.
“It was so fucking sexy; it was almost worth losing.”
Losing? Losing what? Before I had time to ask, we were interrupted by a voice from behind us.
“How do I taste?”
Heejin was at the door to the dressing room, still wearing her costume from the show, her breasts pressed high in the corset. She closed and locked the door behind her.
Nana continued to suck my dick for a few moments, like it was the most normal thing in the world for her younger sister to watch.
Heejin smiled, watching her big sister slobber on the cock that had so recently finished inside her. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Heejin sat up on the makeup table, pulled up her dress, and spread her legs, revealing her pink pussy beneath that trimmed bush. As she spread her plump lips with her fingers, my cum trickled slowly out of her tight hole.
At that, Nana finally slowed to a stop on my cock. She popped me out of her mouth and wiped away the juices coating her lips. Heejin was slowly fingering herself, rubbing my cum around her folds.
“The terms of the bet were clear,” Heejin said, looking at Nana. “If I didn’t manage to make him cum in me tonight, I had to bow out of the show and let you have the lead role. But if I did make him cum in me...”
“I know,” Nana said. She got up and crossed to Heejin.
“Sorry, but what is going on?” My head was spinning. This had all been some kind of competitive game between the two sisters?
“If I got you to fill my pussy with your cum onstage, a feat your girlfriend said was impossible, she’d have to lick it out of me.” Heejin spread her pussy lips with her fingers.
Nana lowered herself to her little sister’s sperm-filled pussy.
My jaw dropped as Nana reached out her tongue and made contact with her younger sister’s pussy. She licked from the bottom up, parting Heejin’s folds and sinking her tongue into her hole. I saw a pearl of my cum on the tip of Nana’s tongue. When she reached Heejin’s clit, Nana swallowed my cum, then licked Heejin’s clit, making the younger girl moan. Nana ran her tongue back down Heejin’s little pussy, then repeated the process. She managed to get some, but not all of my cum from Heejin’s pussy.
I could see Heejin’s breathing becoming ragged, see her body stiffening as Nana licked her. She was going to cum from her big sister’s mouth.
“Wait wait wait, fuck, oh god...”
Nana looked up at her sister, smiling as she licked her pussy more intensely. Now it wasn’t about licking my cum out of her slit. It was about making the younger girl cum. And cum Heejin did, her body seizing and her breasts jiggling as she held Nana’s face to her quivering pussy, riding out an intense orgasm on her sister’s tongue.
Finally Nana slowed to a stop and pulled back from Heejin’s shiny pink pussy.
“There,” she said, wiping her face off. “You won, fair and square.”
Heejin looked over at me. My cock was still out, standing up hard and throbbing. She got a mischievous smile on her face and began to pull her dress up over her head.
“How about a double or nothing bet?”
Nana looked over at me. “What do you have in mind?”
“We trade off. One minute each. Whoever can get him to cum first, wins.”
“Wins what?”
I was still shocked by Nana’s eagerness to eat her younger sister’s pussy and bring her to orgasm. Now she was going to agree to Heejin fucking me in front of her? What could be worth that?
“Him.” Heejin, now naked, got on her knees in front of me and slowly began to stroke my cock. “If you manage to make him cum inside you, then I’ll back off Suho and you can have your precious lead role. But if I make him cum inside me, I get him.”
“Easy now, I’m not comfortable with all this,” I said. I didn’t want my dating life determined by a competition between sisters. On the other hand, alternating between the two of them sounded extra hot, and I wasn’t thinking with my head.
“It’ll be fine, baby,” Nana said, stripping down. I could see a huge wet spot on her panties. “Just cum in me, not in her.”
“I don’t know...”
“What’s wrong, Nana? You scared?”
“No,” she said defensively. “I’m more experienced with him. I know how to get him to cum. It’s little miss barely not a virgin who should be worried.”
“Not even an hour ago he was cumming inside me,” Heejin scoffed. “Once he’s felt that, it’ll be hard to go back.”
Nana lay back on the floor, spreading her legs. Heejin leaned down and buried my cock in her mouth, giving it a few sucks before she took it out of her mouth, grabbed it in her hand, and angled it towards Nana’s slit. When my tip was nestled between my girlfriend’s hairy pussy lips, Heejin darted forward and planted a sloppy kiss on Nana’s clit. Nana gasped in pleasure.
“You ready?” Heejin said, straightening up. “And... go!”
I started fucking Nana. The horniness from the whole situation meant I was starting the drive on the fifty-yard line; it wouldn’t take much to bring me over the edge. Nana was wet, wetter than I’d felt her in a long time, and the tight, hot slickness felt heavenly.
“Cum in me, baby, please, please,” Nana moaned, her small tits bouncing with every thrust. “Please do it, baby...”
“Thirty seconds,” Heejin said. One minute was no time at all.
I sped up my thrusts. Nana flexed her inner muscles hard, and the tightness brought me closer, but I didn’t think I would be able to cum before the time ran out. I loved Nana, but after having Heejin, who was sex personified, I’d be lying if I said my sexy but familiar girlfriend matched up.
Heejin started to count down, timing it with my strokes. “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six...”
“Come on, baby, cum, you know you want to...”
I thrust hard, looking down at Nana’s pussy as it spread open for my cock.
“Five, four, three...”
“Baby...” Nana held onto me tight, but we both knew I wasn’t going to finish. Panting, I slowed down.
“That’s time!” Heejin exclaimed gleefully. “Pull out of her!”
“Fuck,” Nana moaned, disappointed. I withdrew from her, watching as her pussy lips gripped me like they were desperately trying to keep me inside her. Next to Nana, Heejin had her legs spread and her red, aroused, tufted pussy on display.
“Come here,” Heejin said. I positioned myself between her legs. Heejin took my cock and delicately slotted the tip into her. Nana watched, a flush of embarrassment creeping down her neck towards her breasts. I noticed that her nipples were still rock hard on her tits, which, though still perfectly shaped, looked even smaller in comparison to Heejin’s full and perfect ones.
Heejin looked up to her older sister, to make sure she was watching. “Thanks for warming him up for me, big sis.” I pushed an inch into Heejin’s tightness. Both sisters gasped. “Ooh, he’s so nice and slick,” Heejin cooed. “Thanks for the help there, too.”
I pushed all the way into Heejin, until my entire cock was grasped by her snug pussy. We stared at each other intensely. The first time we’d had sex was in the dark, covered so that it would be impossible to see each other. Now, I could drink in every inch of her. Her perfectly round, smooth breasts, nipples standing up straight like pencil erasers, and her neat, perfect pussy clenching my bare cock. I withdrew almost all the way, then drove back into her. Her tits bounced. I slowly built up a rhythm, thrusting into her.
“Of course he’d rather cum in me,” Heejin breathed. “I’m younger, I’m tighter, I’m forbidden...”
For a second, the only sounds were the wet squish of Heejin’s pussy and her quiet moans as I fucked her. Then I heard another slick sound and looked over. Nana’s eyes were glued to her little sister’s tiny, trimmed pussy, which stretched to fit me inside as I drove into Heejin over and over. Nana had her hand between her legs, playing with herself. She was driving her fingers up into her slit with abandon, as wet as I’d ever seen her.
It had only been thirty seconds or so. Fucking Nana had gotten me going, so I was already close. Heejin felt me get bigger inside her and bit her lip, scrunching up her face in pleasure.
“Ooh, I can feel him swelling inside me.”
Nana said nothing, continuing to masturbate. She had apparently already given into the idea that Heejin had won.
“He’s gonna cum in me,” Heejin moaned. “Your boyfriend’s gonna fill up my little cunt and you have to watch.”
Nana looked at me, pleading silently, but Heejin took my face in her hands and made me look at her. She was spread open before me, her body the image of perfection, taking my cock with little gasps of pleasure that were building toward a climax.
“Do it,” she whispered.
And I did. I drove fully into her, my cock jerking as it shot cum into her young pussy. Everyone’s eyes were glued on my cock, splitting Heejin’s lips apart and throbbing with every spurt inside her. Heejin was set off again by the feeling of me filling her up, moaning and shuddering. I watched as her pussy clenched me, quickly filling to the brim. Next to us, Nana’s petite breasts jiggled and she let out a high-pitched gasp, arching her back. She was climaxing at the sight of me cumming inside her little sister.
I kept cumming. Heejin’s small pussy overflowed with my sperm, each thrust pushing some of it out between her tight, hairy lips.
“Put it all into me,” Heejin said between gasps. “Every drop you have.”
After a few more spurts, I withdrew my cock from Heejin’s pussy. Heejin cried out at the sudden emptiness. On my knees, I approached Nana, whose legs were spread as she played with her pussy. I slotted my still-climaxing cock, covered in Heejin’s juices, into my girlfriend’s pussy.
Nana smiled as she felt me thrust into her, her tightness milking the last spurts of my cum.
“Thank you, baby,” she said. “Saving some for me.”
Both sisters lay naked below me, flushed chests heaving; Heejin’s large and firm, Nana’s small and cute. Their legs were spread, showcasing nearly identical haired pussies. And though Heejin’s pussy had more of my cum dripping out of it, as I pulled out of Nana I was happy to see that I had cum enough to see a pearl of semen between her lips, too.
“There,” I said as Heejin and Nana both began to clean off my cock, their lips occasionally touching as they licked me. “Now it’s a tie, and I get both of you.”
“For now,” Heejin said, looking up at me as she ran her tongue up my shaft. “But eventually, one sister always wins."
844 notes · View notes
bunnycvnts · 6 months
Text
new bf! rafe that is slowly, very very slowly, getting used to having a girlfriend that cares about him !!
*+:。.。  。.。:+*
rafe was having a particularly rough day with ward screaming at him to be a better man and running out of gas three blocks from tannyhill, so when you came over that night, his attitude was at an all-time high.
every little thing was ticking him off. from the way his collared shirt was sitting against his skin to the crickets chirping outside, and to the way the tv was far too loud considering how close you were sitting. he was overstimulated, annoyed, and really just needed a fucking break.
when you got up to get a glass of water and your heels clacked against the wood floor, he sort of lost it. “can you- seriously? take the fucking shoes off.”
you paused at the entrance of the living room, your eyebrows furrowing as you turned around slowly to look at your boyfriend. “what?” you weren’t upset; you were just thoroughly confused about his outburst. you’d been together for three months now and had seen your fair share of him being dramatic or moody, but it was rarely ever pointed towards you.
“the heels, they’re driving me fucking nuts, clicking and clacking through the house, and the tv?” he paused to gesture angrily at the screen, “why is it so fucking loud? you’re sitting like six feet away from it.”
your teeth sunk into your lower lip, quickly slipping off your heels and heading back towards rafe, your feet now padding lightly against the floor, almost silently. “is everything okay?” the remote sat in your hand as you spoke, muting the tv effectively. you eyed him cautiously, now noticing the way his hands were fidgeting and his knee wouldnt stop bouncing.
his face scrunched. “yes, everything’s okay; that shits just mad annoying, babe. it’s giving me a fuckin’ headache.” your hand reached out to rub his arm soothingly.
“i’m sorry, i didn’t know. how about we go to your room? it’ll be quieter, and you can change out of your clothes from today. i can go home too if you’d prefer. it’s okay.” your words were chosen carefully, bordering on demanding, and you tried to refrain from any tone that sounded condescending. it was easy to spot that he was overstimulated, and you only wanted to help.
“ye-yeah, yeah. let’s go to my room. don’t leave; why would you leave? i told you everything’s fine.” he didn’t know why you were acting this way, and it made his stomach feel weird. you guided him by his hand up the stairs and to his bedroom, speaking quietly as you went.
“i just know you need a minute, baby. that’s all. know you need some peace and quiet. maybe a nap. will help you feel better, promise.” he paused on the stairs at your words, but your hand tugged at his, making him regain movement.
once you both reached his bedroom, you pulled out some gym shorts and a loose t shirt for him to change into, shoving them into his hands. “here, put these on!” you smiled up at him before moving to his bedside table, where he kept matches. lighting one, you held it to a candle you had bought him a few weeks ago. he had noted how great the scent was but felt it was too girly for him to buy a candle— and he wasn’t girly. so, you took it upon yourself to buy it, and the trimmed wick and melted down wax covering the sides didn’t go unnoticed.
rafe changed quickly and leaned against the wall to watch you. the way you moved so efficiently and effortlessly through his room made his heart beat a little faster. you didn’t have to ask where he kept leisure clothes or the matches. you didn’t think twice before pulling the blanket up from the made bed and fluffing the pillows for him. you didn’t even need him to tell you that he hated sleeping with the top sheet, as you knowingly kept it tucked into the mattress. just watching you made his headache lessen, and he didn’t fight when you pulled him off the wall and helped him get situated in his bed.
“do you want some water or medicine?” his head shook at your question, denying it. all he felt like he needed was you. no one had ever paid so much attention to him or knew what made him feel better or worse. no one had taken the time or given the effort to care so lovingly for him. so when you sat on the edge of the bed, your hand running through his hair gently, all he could do was open his arms to gesture you closer. the blonde shuffled even closer to you, resting his head on your stomach, so you could continue massaging his head and playing with his hair.
“nah, just my girl.”
*+:。.。  。.。:+*
ok this is my first writing post pls be nice
taglist: @sunkissedrafe
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senseofnewness · 2 months
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What do you think dating Stanford!art is like?
stanford!art being your college boyfriend [NSFW]
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• you met during orientation week, despite having different majors, you and art were placed in the same group of fifteen people, all wearing matching blue 'stanford' t-shirts, everyone was quiet and shy at first, but with each building visited, the atmosphere grew more comfortable
• during the campus tour, you muttered a few sarcastic comments under your breath, causing him to chuckle more than once, amused by your wit, he gravitated towards you and introduced himself, walking by your side for the rest of the tour
• afterwards, each time you met him in the corridors, you would nod and greet each other with a playful "sup, blue" referencing your orientation group, he always responded with a huge grin, and it was then you began to notice just how cute he looked, you thought for a second that maybe he wasn’t like all of those stupid jocks, or maybe he was, you had barely exchanged two words but getting to know him could be worth it
• one day, during lunch, you found yourself standing behind him in line at the cafeteria and greeted him as you filled your tray with food, after a quick, casual chat about how school was going, he invited you to join him and his friends at his table, "sure" you answered with a shrug, thinking you were going to eat alone anyway, so why not join the hot boy from the tennis club?
• at the table, he introduced you as his friend, even though you would consider him barely an acquaintance, just a familiar face you were always pleased to see, you quickly got along with everyone, your talkative nature taking over, from time to time, you felt art's eyes on you, an amused smile lingering on his lips as he sat across from you
• he had mentioned having a match the following day and invited you to come along, you barely knew anything about tennis, but you thought this could be the perfect opportunity to learn more about him, as tennis seemed to be such an important part of his life, so you accepted his invitation and promised to be there to cheer him on
• the match took place at 2pm the next day and your neck was starting to ache from following the ball as it flew from one side of the court to the other, art returned every volley with precision, steadily gaining the upper hand over his opponent, you knew nothing about the rules of tennis, but the cheers from the audience were enough to assure you that art was winning the match
• art had humiliated his opponent, the score so one-sided it was almost absurd, you skipped down the bleachers to join him on the court, "well played, blue!" you called out, your voice carrying over the distance, he waved at you, a smug look on his face, "thanks" he said, "you should stick around, we’re having a little celebratory get-together”
• once at the party, it didn’t take long for the yapper in you to find a group of people to overshare with, but art remained by your side, filling your glass every time it came close to being empty, there was something truly endearing about the way he noticed when you were about to finish your drink, always making sure you never got thirsty, on the other hand, you couldn't help but wonder if it was wise to trust a stranger with your drink
• now it was just the two of you, you were tipsy and art was discussing the earlier match in detail, although you had no particular interest in talking about tennis at the moment, or ever, art made it captivating, you hung on every word, your eyes fixed on his lips, "what do you think?" he asked, pulling you out of your reverie, "what?" you blurted out, "seems like you're really into tennis" he teased, "what can I say? i love balls", both of you chuckled, "you kinda remind me of my friend patrick", what did that mean? his friend? you had no desire to be just his friend, you needed to make your intentions clear, "why? does he love your balls too?"
• "dance with me” you said, taking his hand and pulling him toward the dance floor, "i can't dance" he protested, though he followed you willingly, like a docile boy, "come on, it's not rocket science, just put your hands on me and move", his hands settled on your hips as you swayed your body against his to the music, the space between you diminished as he leaned in, his eyes locking with yours, you tilted your head slightly and he closed the gap, his lips brushing against yours in a tender, tentative kiss, first gentle, then more passionate as tongues met, tangling, you could taste the alcohol in his saliva
• the rest of the night passed in a blur, with you and art making out in every corner of the place, each time someone approached, you would shift to a new spot, not out of embarrassment but to avoid being interrupted by chatter, all you wanted was to keep your lips pressed against his, to feel the thrill of his touch, you just couldn’t keep your hands off him, there was something irresistibly addictive about the sensation of his soft blond curls slipping through your fingers, soon, it became harder to breathe, and you found yourself craving more of him with an intense, almost desperate hunger
• you were perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, your legs wrapped around Art’s hips as he stood before you, the heat between your core and his growing more intense by the second, you felt an urgent need for him, “we should go to sleep” you suggested, lying in hopes that he would catch your hint, “i should walk you to your dorm” he murmured against your lips, reluctantly pulling away, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty girl like you”
• the walk back to your place was a mix of light-hearted chatter and giggles, as you reached your door, you lingered there, biting your lower lip in anticipation while fiddling with your keys, “want to watch a movie?” you asked, a teasing smirk playing on your lips. “sure” he replied, his eyes bright with desire as he followed you inside after you unlocked the door
• the first movie played, then the next, and the one after that, but you barely registered what was on the screen, you were way too focused on him, comfortably wrapped in his embrace and between kisses and sharing stories about your lives, you learned about Art’s years at the tennis academy in Florida, his best friend Patrick, and his beloved grandmother, but you also became intimately familiar with his body, you weren’t sure who made the first move, perhaps it was you, but your hand now caressed his length, while his fingers teased your clit, both of you moaning softly, lost in the pleasure of each other’s touch
• after minutes of intense overstimulation, both of you were exhausted, breathing heavily, “shit, i should go” art muttered, quickly standing up, “the coach is going to get my ass if i'm late to morning practice”, you pouted in disappointment as he adjusted his semi-hard cock back into his pants while you wiped his cum off your hand onto your shirt, “give me your phone” you said, extending your now-cleaned hand, he passed it over and you began typing in your number, “text me when you’re back at your dorm” you instructed, “it’s dangerous out there for a pretty boy like you”, his smile widened at your teasing remark echoing his earlier words
• you had fallen asleep after his departure and the first thing you noticed when you woke up was his ‘morning, blue’ text, the fact that he had thought about you first thing after training brought a smile to your face, throughout the day, you exchanged texts about nothing and everything all at once, later that day, you joined him after classes, eager to see him in person, nothing was better than being face-to-face and lips-to-lips
• in the days that followed, sneaking into each other’s dorms after authorized hours became a thrilling game, dodging the resident assistants’ watchful eyes, you’d slip into each other’s beds, where you mostly got off by dry humping, though you were ready for more but art wanted to take things slow, wanting to show you it was more than just sex, and while you thought his intentions were sweet, you secretly wished he would stop respecting you so much and just stretch you out with his pretty cock
• it took just a few more days before art was balls deep inside you, his resolve crumbled when you sat on top of him and rubbed yourself against his bulge, in a swift motion, he flipped you over and undressed you, rolling on a condom before thrusting himself inside, he fucked you like no one ever had, releasing all the built-up tension, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, your heels digging into his asscheeks, and your moans were muffled by his mouth on yours, he had made you come more than once that night
• art was also the first guy to venture his tongue between your legs, apart from a boyfriend or two, you weren't that experienced, and no one had ever shown interest in pleasuring you that way, so when art ate you out for the first time, it was a revelation, you doubted you could ever go back to anything else but oral sex, while art was certainly a good fuck, his dick was far less skilled than his tongue, he attentively sucked on your swollen clit, turning you into a moaning mess, and all you had to do was lie there and watch him work, his face glistening with your juices, you loved being helpless under his care
• you only realized how much you cared about him when you saw him interacting with another girl in the cafeteria, tashi duncan, you recognized her from the posters, she was leaning over the table, chatting with him, and he was smiling back at her, the sight ignited a wave of jealousy in you and you moved closer to the table as she walked away, “who was she?” you asked, sitting down beside him, he looked at you before responding that she was a friend of his, “she’s cute” you added, a hint of bitterness lacing your voice, “didn’t notice” he replied, though you could tell he was lying, “sure” you said, rolling your eyes, only an idiot would miss tashi’s charms, but it’s not like you could act possessive and call him out on his bullshit, after all, you didn’t own him, you weren’t his girlfriend
• you were studying in his room, lying on your stomach on his bed, when he finally spoke the words you had been waiting to hear, “you know i like you a lot” he confessed, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that revealed his nervousness, you could see his hands trembling slightly, betraying his emotions, “i do too” you replied, meeting his gaze with a smile, then, with a hopeful tone, he asked, “do you want to be my girlfriend?” you grinned, your heart swelling with happiness, “wait, i wasn’t already?” you teased, pretending to be shocked, “shit, i need to cancel the wedding!” with a laugh, you nodded your head and cupped his face in your hands, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips
• making it official had made everything more concrete, taking things to a more intense level, sure, you were already spending every night fucking each other’s brains out, but now condoms were a thing of the past, fucking you raw had made a monster out of art, he reveled in every opportunity to fill you with his cum, enjoying the sight of his warm load dripping out of you down your thighs, in the past, he had come covered your body with his semen, ass, face, tits, multiple times, but now that seemed wasteful, only your tight little cunt was worthy of welcoming him, and he made sure to take full advantage of it
• you became his biggest cheerleader, attending every match, proudly wearing t-shirts with his face and name on, the whole campus knew you as art donaldson’s girlfriend, and while you liked the attention, you couldn’t ignore the whispers, you secretly wished people would acknowledge you for your own accomplishments, rather than just being the tennis prodigy’s ‘pathetic little puppy who follows him around’
• while he had mostly called you ‘blue’ in the past, you now held the cherished title of ‘baby’ and being his baby came with certain privileges : his wardrobe had become yours, you had lost count of how many times you had stolen one of his shirts or caps, also he now walked you to your classes every day, hand in hand, always insisting on carrying your backpack, sometimes, you shared such long kisses in front of the classroom door that he ended up being late to his own class, everyone passing by shooting you side-eye glances, but you both are too wrapped up in each other to even care
• kissing wasn’t the only thing you did in public, you took great pleasure in giving art random boners, turning it into a game, a game that boosted your self-esteem like no other, you loved watching him struggle and blush as he tried to discreetly adjust his growing length in his pants, all it took was sitting on his lap and subtly rubbing your ass against him, pressing your breasts against his chest during hugs, playing with his hair, wearing shirts with no bra on, or simply licking your lip, okay, you had to admit, art was also the type of boy who got horny at the mere sight of you breathing
• a few weeks later, you finally met patrick, along with his girlfriend, tashi duncan, you had never approached her before, she was too intimidating for that, patrick, on the other hand, was as friendly as can be, filling every moment with questions and jokes, never allowing a second of silence to settle between you, you could see why art thought you were similar, both unable to shut up, with patrick around, you discovered a new side of art, a playful, childlike side, so while the two of them got caught up in their reckless antics, you found yourself stuck with tashi, gradually getting to know her and even ending up befriending her
• sometimes, after a long practice, art is too tired to join you in your room for the night, on those days, you make sure to convince him that you’re worth the exhaustion, like that time you sent him a picture of yourself wearing nothing but the blue shirt from orientation week, your nipples pressed hard against the fabric and your lacy panties sheer enough to reveal your hairless cunt, he was at your door in five minutes, his sore muscles an afterthought
• you two are like animals, fucking in every room and every position possible, gone was the shy, respectful art from orientation week who touched you with such a gentle care, he now grabbed you by the hair as he aggressively shoved his throbbing cock in you any time he felt like it, calling you like ‘his little whore’ while painting your walls with his thick cum, your sessions had become a contest of who could outmoan the other, often interrupted by banging on the walls and people yelling from the other side of the door
• it had only been two months of dating when he finally said "i love you", you were acting silly, making him laugh, when he blurted it out, taken aback, you felt a rush of emotions, you had wanted to say it for days but had not dared, when you had discussed it with your friends, they all agreed it was way too early for that, “i love you too” you eagerly whispered, pulling him into a deep kiss
• for your birthday, he had given you a silver necklace adorned with your birthstone, it was so beautiful, and you couldn’t believe he had chosen such a thoughtful gift, you only had been dating for a few months after all, you wore it every day, never taking it off except for showers, you loved how it hung perfectly between your breasts and how it bounced against your hard nipples while you rode art's hard cock
• “i want three kids” he said after fucking you, his hands wandering over your stomach, stroking it gently, “three?” you gasped in shock, “come on, let’s have one and then we’ll see” you tried to reason with him, but that only sparked new ideas in his head, “should we?” he asked, his eyes bright with excitement, you knew he wanted children, it was obvious from all that dirty talk about filling you up and making him a daddy but you didn’t think he was that serious about it, “art, we’re 19” you reminded him and he shrugged nonchalantly in response, “so, am I just destined to be your little tennis wife? popping your babies out one after the other while you become a superstar?” you teased, though a part of you was serious, you had plans for your future, and while children were part of it, there were still so many things you wanted to experience and accomplish first, sure, you loved him, but you weren’t ready to be overshadowed by a man or to become just an extension of him
• for christmas, art visited his grandmother at her nursing home, and you insisted on coming along, bringing a batch of home-baked treats for her, when you finally met her, it was clear where art had inherited his sweet nature, watching him shower her with care and affection made you imagine a near future where you could give him the children he desired so much, ultimately your mother would forgive you for being a teen mom once she would hold your first child, right?
• his grandmother had come to adore you, and soon it was you insisting on visiting her, one day, she proudly showed you her ring, a cherished gift from her late husband, and promised that one day it would be on your finger, thoughts of weddings began to swirl in your mind and you found yourself wondering if being just an athlete’s wife might not be such a terrible fate after all
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Text
(seven) days a week, m | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: It only takes seven days (a week) for Jeon Jungkook to get you in his bed to fuck you right. And showing up in weird places. And kissing in the rain. He's crazy. Okay, it's kinda complicated.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language (reader swears a lot); strangers-to-lovers; vague allusions to a loveless childhood and bad parenting (no specifics); JK might be insane and you do tell him that he is; slight crack; fluff; smut (fem reader, fucking with clothes on and off, m and f-receiving oral, light hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, choking, penetrative sex, handjob); non-idol!BTS – persistent!Jungkook x noona, def tsundere!reader lol ft instigator-cupid!Park Jimin setting them up
this directly follows Jung Kook's 'Seven' MV, so make sure to watch it (although I'm sure you've seen it if you wanna read this lmao)
--
monday.
“What? Something on my face?”
You stared at him and he stared back. Wide eyes, slightly parted lips, the look of caught prey and all. You had your hands in front of you, long fingers laced together, elbows on the table. You probably shouldn’t have scowled like that. That was a bit rude, especially to someone you didn’t know well, but this guy had been staring at you all night and barely speaking to you, even when prompted, so you were getting both impatient and annoyed at accepting this invitation.
“You wear… a lot of jewelry,” Jeon Jungkook said out loud, with awe.
You looked down at your hands. Well. The rings, the bracelets, even the earrings on both your ears, all sterling silver or white gold. You had even swapped out the lower lobe piercing for a pair of dangling dice earrings with grey freshwater pearls. You liked the cooler tone to bring some death to your warm-toned skin.
“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Your low voice had an edge of guarded to it.
A quick, nervous head shake. “No. No, it’s cool. I’ve never seen a girl wear so many chunky rings like that. I didn’t think I’d like it either, but then I saw you.”
You opened your mouth to snap out a comeback and then his words hit you.
There was no doubt that Jeon Jungkook was cute. Black-brown hair with a lustrous quality. Bright, expressive dark brown eyes. Slightly rounded cheeks with a distinct jawline. He said he had, and you could see, tattoos and piercings, something you quite liked but not a requirement. Built body, in the way that people where when they were committed to taking care of their physical appearance. Not so much in vanity, but in the way that matched how they felt that they should look in their head. Respect for that. But, in this chance that was what you had expected to be his, Jungkook didn’t taken it.
He looked the part.
Didn’t act it, though.
Black blazer, matching trousers. White t-shirt. Dressy but not too much. To be honest, the outer appearance didn’t matter much to you. It actually mattered the least. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Really. You were often told that you had too little patience for people, but, come on!
This conversation was awkward.
Hah.
You turned as you sensed a lively presence re-entering your icy atmosphere. Hmph. The actor playing Cupid in the instance. He looked the part too. Baby blue dress shirt with the top buttons undone. Ivory slacks, neatly pressed. Black hair perfectly curled over his forehead, framing an angelic face. Full lips forming an infectious smile that made his eyes disappear as small hands folded away the receipt and tucked his card back into his wallet.
“Ah, the waitress and I had a cute little chat,” flirty Park Jimin chuckled, giving you a little eyebrow wiggle. You rolled your eyes at him. “Did you guys have a nice talk while I was gone?”
“Um…?” Jungkook started, nearly afraid to glance at you for some support.
You gave Jimin a deadpan stare. “You trying to get her number?”
“Me? No, no!” he waved his hands, sitting back down to lean in. “She gave it to me anyway though.”
Figures Park Jimin would introduce you to a guy and also get the number of someone else in the restaurant. You deliberately hadn’t answered Jimin’s question, but he hadn’t noticed.
Jungkook, however, did.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed him deflate a little and you winced in unease, not sure if you should have avoided it, but at this point the waitress had returned, lashes aflutter and gushing about how they just had to try to fried ice cream and it was on the house, as long as Jimin promised to come back, right? Right?
Jimin promised of course, of course, with a big smile.
You completely ignored him and picked up one of the pieces of fried ice cream – mango, it seemed, by the color – and placed it on one of the small plates before setting it right in front of Jungkook.
He perked up and gave you these big, hopeful eyes.
You didn’t say anything but felt your cheeks flush and your gaze shift, putting on an expression of reluctant apology. After a half second, you bowed your head just a bit, shaking off the moment and serving yourself before serving Jimin.
What?
Damn flirt didn’t even notice.
-
tuesday.
“You didn’t like him?”
“I mean, there’s nothing to like or dislike. He barely said anything. Also, Jimin, I told you, I’m not really a relationship person,” you sighed into your phone, walking quickly to the train station. “I don’t want to give this guy the wrong idea about me. He didn’t really strike me as a fuck-around-and-find-out kinda guy.”
“You said you would change your mind for the right person though.”
Sometimes you thought Jimin argued with you just to argue.
“Yeah, and I don’t even know what kind of person he is because he didn’t say shit,” you barked back to that snippy tone on the other side of the line. Some idiot honked at you and you resisted the urge to flip him the bird. Maybe he wasn’t honking at you. The hanging out the window and catcalling could be to the couple walking next to you.
You highly doubted it.
Also, maybe you just wanted to give someone the middle finger because you couldn’t show Jimin right now how much you deeply appreciated him.
“Jungkookie’s just super shy, but wait a minute and he’ll make you his.”
You rolled your eyes. Damn bad habit that you were forming ever since you became friendly with this mildly infuriating angel. “He’s not making me do anything.”
“I’m telling you; he suits you perfectly. You’re being stubborn and not giving him a chance. Anyway, I gave him your number, so don’t worry!”
“Wait, you did wha–”
The roar of the subway train below cut you off.
“Oop, you’re at the station. You’re breaking up! Can’t hear you, byeeeeeee!”
You twitched as Park Jimin hung up on you.
Asshole.
You pulled your phone away from your ear and pulled up the app to pay for your ticket. Paused for a second. New message, unknown number. Then it was your turn, so you hovered your phone screen, heard the beep, and hurried to the correct train line, finding the one to take you home. It was hectic even now, still within the dregs of rush hour, so you didn’t even think to check for the content of the text until you sat down with a big sigh, somewhat of a fwump with your distressed bomber jacket and baggy cargo pants, both made of thick black fabric. The side of your jacket slid off, exposing your bare shoulder and tight white tank top.
The guy standing about a meter away from you snuck a glance in your direction.
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and yanked your jacket back in place with the hand that was holding your phone. Noticed the screen flash, reminding you of the notification.
Fuck it.
Pressed your thumb and your phone unlocked.
Hey, it’s me. Jeon Jungkook… I wanted to say that I’m sorry about not talking that much last night. I was really nervous because you were so pretty and self-assured. I was so impressed that nothing I could think of seemed like a good thing to say, so I blanked out. I’m very sorry. I hope it is okay for me to text you like this.
An essay.
You paused for so long that you felt your cheeks heat.
The fuck?
You frowned at yourself. For some reason, even though he hadn’t talked much, you could hear the text in your head as if Jungkook was speaking to you directly. Sense the anxiousness in the typed words. See those big eyes gazing right at you with a mixture of curiosity and wonder and what-ifs. You sighed, feeling defeated. It would simply be rude to not reply.
I apologize for being too intimidating.
You sent it before thinking. Aw, shit. That was a bit short, wasn’t it? Damnnit. You saw the sending quadlet of dots spinning slowly, struggling due to you being underground. Fuck. If you sent another message now, it might be out of order and that would just get confusing. And what else could you add? Oh, geez, you didn’t even confirm it was you. The conversation with Park Jimin must have scrambled your egg brains.
The train roared out of the tunnel.
All of a sudden, the message sent and a reply instantly popped up. Actually, a serious of bubbles, rapid-fire like bullets. The confirmation must have lagged.
You’re not intimidating at all! Well… not in a bad way. In a sexy way. I mean, in a good way! In a cool way, like you’re not afraid to say what you wanna say. I really admire that in a person, so I really admire that in you. Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I made things weird… ㅠ.ㅠ
You blinked slowly at the messages. It was pretty clear Jungkook had sat there and pondered over the first message for quite a while and these subsequent ones were stream of consciousness spewing. Honestly, kind of funny. Heh. You could sort of imagine it. Maybe he hadn’t expected you to respond right away. Hm, you wondered if he had hoped you would. He really was trying hard, huh. For what? What was the reason?
You tucked your tongue in your cheek and responded anyway.
Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you never know. I might like that. What’s the outfit of the day, Jeon Jungkook?
Were you fishing for a photo? Of course. He would probably scramble to put on a good outfit to impress you. To your surprise, the downloading image icon popped up instantaneously, spinning, spinning. You tilted your head, surprised at the prompt obedience. He must have snapped a pic right away when you asked. It was taking time to load though. You saw some people getting off the train and looked up, checking the stop. Oh, yours was next.
You took care not to look directly at anyone around you, keeping your sling bag in your lap.
Then you looked down to the inquisitive dark brown eyes of Jeon Jungkook with messy black hair and a black leather jacket. White t-shirt. It was a selfie, so you couldn’t see the pants. It was something borderline vain about the angle, but also a seek of approval in that parted mouth, silver ring and stud dotting the edge of the right side, flash of white teeth and slight bite of the left side revealing a small mole at the center underneath his lower lip.
You twitched.
Bold, wasn’t he?
You weren’t sure if you liked it – well, you didn’t mind it, you just weren’t sure if you like-liked it, what was he trying to play at here, trying to get your heart to beat fast or something, hmph – and you clutched your phone pointedly, your rings clacking as you prepped your fingers to type back… something, be honest here… and your fingers wavered.
Shaking a little.
You let out a breath you hadn’t known you had been holding.
Oh, the pants are blue jeans, but I’m out right now so there’s no mirror to show you.
You heard your stop being called and stood up automatically, filing behind other people getting ready to step off, the train slowing down, everything slowing down, finding yourself staring at Jungkook’s expression in the photo, why were you staring, shifting your eyes quickly, then back, it wasn’t like Jeon Jungkook could see you, ugh, this was so annoying.
Do you want to see? I can take another photo when I get home.
You let out a frustrated exhale that no one else around you could understand. Maybe not even those closest to you would get it. But you knew what it meant, and knowing also frustrated you.
Being self-aware was a bitch.
You finally sent your answer.
I much prefer this look on you than the blazer. Is this your normal fashion style?
You had worn a flowing white blouse and floaty black skirt the night before at dinner, but it was not your typical style. Well, it was, but it was one of your work outfits since you had come straight from the office. Something you wore to not get in trouble with the dress code and knowing you would have to meet up with people later. Sometimes you were a little riskier if you were feeling frisky, but Jimin had told you to look nice for the friend he was introducing you to.
But maybe it would have been better to look more you.
Then again, the restaurant was pretty high end. They might not have let you in.
Oh. Yeah. Hahaha, I wore the blazer because Jimin-ssi told me to look nice for you. I guess this is street-style? I don’t know… I’m not fashionable, I only wear what I think is cool or comfy. What about you?
You strode out of the train and briskly walked to the elevator, muscle memory already knowing where to go, typing back. Pausing when you saw the vending machine. A green tea would be nice right now.
You veered off course and headed to stand in line.
I think my friends would describe my style as dark and strong. They’re always telling me I should dress more feminine or at least in less black, but one of my core traits is not listening to shit people say. And swearing.
You tapped your card and made your selection. Waited out the whirr and clunk. Didn’t pay much attention to the world around you. It was a typical day, people passing by, no warning feelings. And, besides, your phone was much more interesting right now.
You did not just think that.
You scowled at your reflection in the glass of the vending machine before picking up your drink.
I hope I get to see you sometime soon so I can appreciate it. :)
You raised an eyebrow at your phone as you ticked open the can and started walking again, taking a crisp sip. It was slightly irritating that he was better at flirting over text than in person. Or maybe it had just been the circumstance. Come to think of it, it would have been weird if he did with Jimin right there, although you were sure Jimin wanted to be there to witness whatever unfolded. The awkwardness was probably just as entertaining to him as it would be if Jungkook had been more forward.
Hmph.
What was more irritating was that you weren’t instantly annoyed by it.
Hmmmmph.
Are you saying you aren’t intimidated by me, Jeon Jungkook?
You hurried home, following the streetlights, breathless, not because you were running, but because you wanted to be home so you could be alone with…
I’m saying I like feeling your effect on me in person.
Him.
-
wednesday.
The next time you saw Jeon Jungkook, you were groaning and setting your forehead on the edge of washing machine, screaming internally. Would have banged it against the metal if you weren’t going to lose a substantial number of brain cells. You were going to pay cash because you wouldn’t get that card surcharge if you did but, of course, of course you had accidentally shorted yourself and pocketed the wrong amount.
Fuck!
Now you were already at the laundromat. Walk back home and lug your shit to and back to get the right amount? Or just forget it and pay the extra charge? You had already put the detergent in. Fuckity fuck fuck. Technically you could go home, it wasn’t that far, but, ugh, it was extra annoying today because you had slept late and now you were grumpily doing your life responsibilities. Come back a different day? No, you had specifically told yourself to get off your ass and get that pile washed. Damnnit, if you hadn’t slept late and scrambled your egg brains, this wouldn’t have happened!
But you had been talking to Jeon Jungkook.
Ending the conversation had been more difficult than you expected. You gritted your teeth, feeling stupid for pulling such a teenage move. Still young, huh? Young and stupid.
Grr.
You heard the metal slide of the money drawer being closed and then an approval ping!
You jumped back, freaked out at the thing you hadn’t done, and then snapped your head to the sudden presence next to you. Dark blue jeans with giant holes at the knees. Gray hoodie sliding off a built right shoulder. White ribbed tank top. Messy black hair. A piercing, no, two on the right side of open lips.
Big, round, dark brown eyes.
You noticed he was wearing a few silver rings himself.
“Um… hi? I noticed you were short a little so I just…” Jeon Jungkook trailed off, giving you a hopeful look.
You gawked at him.
“What are you doing here?”
Ouch. A little too snappy. Jungkook faltered, those peepers shifting. “Ah… well…”
You bit your tongue and reeled it back. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to see you, is all. Obviously, you came here to wash your clothes like everyone else.”
He reached up and scratched the back of his head nervously. Wait. Why was he looking at you like that?
“W-Well, actually… Jimin-ssi told me you normally come here on Wednesdays to do laundry and I was nearby so I figured., maybe, I’d just check if you were here…”
You stared at him.
“You’re stalking me?”
“N-No!” Jungkook sputtered, waving his hands frantically even though you hadn’t raised your voice.
There was a bristle to your tone though. Indignation and frigidity you couldn’t hide. You frowned, narrowing your eyes, cornering him with your gaze. There were only a few people on this slow day, which was why you picked Wednesday to do laundry, but all the patrons had AirPods or other earbuds in, busying themselves with their shoving of clothing in and out of the washers and dryers. No one was going to interrupt anyway.
Not their business.
“I… I…”
“And how did you recognize me anyway? My head was down,” you remembered, advancing on him, and Jungkook took a step back, swallowing hard. Your outfit was baggy too, dark denim jacket and jeans, the tight black tank hidden by the bulk.
“I couldn’t forget how beautiful your hair is,” he mumbled out quickly, looking a little too mesmerized by your fierceness. Forget that. “And your hands were on the edge of the washer. Your rings. The star chain bracelet you wear. I…”
He was fixated on your collarbones and the thin black choker around your neck.
Or lower.
“Oi! My face is up here,” you hissed, snaping your fingers and making him jerk his head. He had stopped backing up though. You pointed at him, somewhat rudely. Actually, very rudely, but whatever. “What do you mean, check if I was here? And who told you? That idiot. I’ll kill him.”
And why was Jungkook looking at you like that?
Like he thought you were hot when angry.
He better stop that shit because you were losing your irate demeanor for some fuckin’ reason.
“I texted you almost all night. That wasn’t enough?” you half-growled, half whispered.
A tiny head shake.
Ah, shit.
You deliberately did not think that was cute.
“I liked it so much that I…” Oh no, oh no, not that honest tremble and deep gaze into your eyes. “I was hoping I could talk to you again, in person, more bravely this time.”
You opened your mouth to sink in that verbal bite and nothing came out.
The entire laundromat could flood right now and you wouldn’t even notice because you were staring at Jeon Jungkook and wondering if this audacity was freaking annoying or freaking impressive. Not this damn guy within two days leaving you speechless. Well… actually, no, never mind the technicalities.
“Are you even thinking before you do things?” you grumbled, not yet backing down.
Jungkook stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets suddenly. Hm? Nervous and shaking? You couldn’t tell, but you watched him closely, observing his body language, your eyes following those lines.
“Mmmm…” He bit the left side of his lower lip. “No?”
You strongly resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
Shy smile greeting you, accompanying the lip bite.
“I’m just listening to my heart.”
Now you visibly cringed. “Don’t say stuff like that.” Looking away slightly, somehow unable to meet those honest eyes.
“Why? You don’t like it?” Genuinely curious.
“You don’t mean it.” He did mean it and you could see that he meant it but you did not want to admit that you knew that he meant it. Yeah. “You barely know me. We only talked over text.”
“But you gave me thoughtful, frank answers. I don’t believe that you were being dishonest,” Jungkook protested, following you over to the tables a few steps away from the washing machines. You dragged your laundry bag with you and kept your voice down.
“I told you, I’m a straightforward an honest person. I won’t lie to you. And I won’t hesitate to cut you off if you lie to me,” you reminded him.
He nodded. You wanted to shake him and yell at him to stop giving you those eyes. “So I just decided to do what I wanted to.”
You cocked your head at him in disbelief. “You didn’t think you went too far?”
What was with that mischievous smile? “I’m the all-in type.”
You let out a puff of air.
“Also, you haven’t told me directly that you don’t like it,” Jungkook pointed out, leaning toward you, smiling.
You gave him a deadpan stare. “You don’t get me,” you said back flatly.
Those dark brown orbs sparkled. “That’s okay. I don’t have to get you to think you’re cool, clever, and stunning.”
Your eyebrow twitched.
“And why do you say that? Because you see how people look at me? Because you enjoyed my useless facts and tangents last night? Because you think with your dick?” You added the last question with bite, leaning forward too, having enough of this, not really him but…
The fact that you didn’t want to tell him to fuck right off.
Silence.
Jungkook was staring into your eyes.
“The shape of your eyes is so… perfect.”
You felt your ears heat.
He raised a finger and traced the air right in front of your left eye, the scent of his clean cologne drifting in your direction. “The way they sharpen in the inner corner, like a bird of prey… And your irises are so dark and striking…”
You grabbed his finger out of the air.
“Don’t be… weird.”
Why did you pause? Hello? No way you’re being like this over this guy right now.
You pointedly pulled his hand down, pinning it to the table. “Pay attention.”
Jungkook was giving you this dreamy, hazy expression. “Huh? What were you saying?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You can’t even listen.”
He leaned in closer and you caught a whiff of that delicious cologne again. “Sorry. I will. Say it again, please. I’ll listen carefully.”
The fuck were you saying again? The lights of the old laundromat flickered but you barely noticed. A common occurrence in these ol’ mom-and-pop places. And, besides, you were staring at this determined, patient smile and mentally shoving down those butterflies that you definitely weren’t feeling, nope, violently compacting those distracting internalizations into a tiny, windowless box.
“You don’t seem very good at listening,” you finally said, tight and even.
“I am,” he insisted softly. “I promise.”
“I’m too much for you.”
Or was Jungkook too much for you?
“I’m offering all of me,” he whispered to the shared air between you and him. “It might not be enough so I’ll be to work hard and do my best.”
What was he so earnest for? You hesitated, the edges to your hard demeanor softening. You didn’t want to trust stuff like this. It was so easy to get burned and you wanted to be the one to do the burning. And how could you trust people? Even you didn’t say everything out loud. Some things you could say and some you couldn’t say. It was too much trouble to believe in someone.
You had never received unburdened kindness when you were younger.
“We’re not on the same page.”
Jungkook tilted his head. “Aren’t we? But you’re reading me easily and I’m doing my best to learn about you too.”
Your shoulders released the tension. “Don’t pretend with me. It’s clear you’re a relationship kind of guy. And, while I’m not against them, I can’t deliver the same kind of devotion you are willing to give. Can’t you see that?” You removed your hand from his, not realizing it was still there.
His fingertip traced a line on the back of your hand.
Sparks raced along the base of your head.
You remained stern, feeling heavy and hot in your clothes.
“Why do you say that? You don’t think you’re loyal?” he asked very sincerely.
Your eyes narrowed. “Of course, I am. If I like you in that way and you asked me to bury a body, I’d already be digging the grave. But I’m not a flowers-and-chocolate kind of girl. That’s not how I show affection.”
You had no idea how far your clothes were in the cycle. The whole world could crash down and you would still be staring at Jungkook and his body language. His shoulders slouched a little more so he could look up at you with those pleading eyes.
Inhale still in your throat.
“Then, do you not like me?”
Say something.
But you didn’t say anything at all, gazing down at Jeon Jungkook and wondering why you couldn’t get through his thick skull that you were a bad decision. Honestly? Honestly, fine, it was because you grew up with parents that never liked each other nor their kids. Honestly, it was because you grew up too fast and with too much independence to not see the filthiness of the world. Honestly, it was because you saw the finicky innate nature of humanity of never devoting themselves to anything, much less anyone, and why would they?
People were crazy.
Call it personal experience.
You sighed.
“Jungkook, I’m not gonna lie to you. I fuck before I care about anybody. I’m only living to get my pleasure and not take care of anyone, okay? I’m barely keeping my own head together. I’m blunt. I don’t need or want romantic gestures. I just want dick. There. I’m not a good person.”
He was smiling.
Aw, shit.
“I must be favored to know you.”
You twitched, tucking your tongue in your cheek to avoid scowling, which was pretty much scowling anyway, so you failed spectacularly.
“Also, you haven’t said you don’t like me,” Jungkook pointed out. Infuriatingly. “Because it’s not true and you don’t lie. Right?” He said your name with a little too much sweetness and knowing.
You yanked your hand out of his and shoved his hard, muscular chest. He bounced back, grinning a little too happily. You told yourself to hate it and you didn’t. Fuck. “What are you even still doing here? Gonna fold my clothes for me or something?”
The energy at being offered a household chore was disturbing. “Oh! I can! I’m very good at doing laundry. And washing dishes. And cleaning. I like doing that stuff.”
“Sure, you do,” you puffed sarcastically,
“I do,” Jungkook insisted, coming around the table. “And I’m good at it.”
You scrutinized him up a down. “Yeah? Because you don’t know where else to put all that energy of yours?”
His lips parted but all he did was gawk at you. Oop. Right on the money. You were liking this expression a little too much. Maybe it was time to lower these walls a bit. After all, it didn’t seem like Jungkook was going to go away any time soon. He was pretty harmless anyway.
“I could drain you in a night,” you chuckled, smirking.
The tips of his ears were getting red at your lowered tone.
“You think you could keep up?”
-
thursday.
Ugh, it was one of those days that fuckin’ suuuucked.
Woke up late and had to rush to get dressed and bounce, then got to work and some shit was going down about missing documents and people moving papers they shouldn’t have, forcing you to play manager because everyone else had no goddamn spine to fix anything. This department would be a disaster without you. To top it all off, you had people stalling, keeping an irrelevant conversation going, leading you on a wild goose chase with no funny honking – turns out the documents were in some random copier right behind you, for fuck’s sake – and you had a very strong inkling it was because of what you looked like.
Which was fine.
Unless you were actually trying to do your job.
Then, one of your side dishes you had brought for lunch had gone off, so you ended up slightly less full than you wanted to be, and you forgot your jacket at work, leaving it hanging on the back of your chair in your rush to leave, and the train halted several stations before your stop because there was some emergency maintenance or some shit.
Fuckity fuck.
It wouldn’t be so annoying it if wasn’t so windy, but it was and you were wearing a sheer sweater with splashes of jewel-toned colors and a longline black sports bra under it – you had worn your jacket half-zipped until your boss had left in the middle of the day and your co-workers didn’t care how you looked, the dress code was stupid anyway – and black jeans, mid-rise. The rules were more about being covered up rather than being professionally dressed.
The job was primarily sitting at a desk and sorting documents, did it matter how you looked?
Or maybe you just broke the rules a little because you were a rebel.
Your stomach growled angrily and you told it to shut the fuck up.
You stood on the corner halfway between work and home, debating on whether or not to do some damage. The problem was you didn’t have any of the usual bad habits most people had. You didn’t drink, so getting stupid drunk and getting thrown out of the noraebang was out of the question. Also, you couldn’t sing. But, anyway, you barely took medicine, let alone know where or how to procure the illegal fun stuff, so that was also out. You didn’t have a sweet tooth either so you couldn’t down a whole cake with gusto, although that sounded like a great way to go.
You sulked.
You had an addiction, but you just stared at the names in your phone and felt guilty. Guilty! For what? For some guy you met literally less than four days ago? Ugh, no, this couldn’t be you right now. Seriously? Seriously? You crossed and stalked up the block, not yet deciding what to do so you kept walking until you figured it out during this internal battle. You had to keep this guy at a distance. Okay, yes, you could admit you liked him.
And that was the problem.
If you didn’t really like him, you could just fuck him and establish those hard boundaries. No issue. You had been in love before but that was a long time ago and ultimately you ended it because it wasn’t right and you weren’t good enough to be devoted to.
You breathed out hard, the unease spilling out of your insides.
It was definitely easier to not expect anything from anyone. You had spent a lot of life not having and, ultimately, not needing to rely on others, both out of necessity and simply having too much to work on by yourself. Years of fighting off bitterness that you had always tasted, years of letting go of important moments realizing that supposedly important people in your life would never be there for them, years of lashing out and becoming the shadow of the abuse you endured. Eye for an eye and all that. Keep the cycle going, until you had that moment in the eye of the storm to get hit by lightning and realize that this wasn’t right.
It wasn’t any particular thing.
Just finally accepting the creeping self-awareness that you had been miserable and were making other people miserable on purpose because you tore them open and took their hearts to find yours.
Metaphorically, duh.
So now you sort of did this martyr shit of being there for people when you could and not asking for anything back. Especially not a relationship. Intimate to heal a heart and then give it away, which totally worked if they weren’t into you, just into what you could do.
You didn’t really feel it yourself but you did get sex out of it.
Bad addiction, yeah.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket.
You ignored it.
Stepped into a chicken place and stood in line, feeling the weight of your world on your shoulders. You brain tried to reason with you that it was Jeon Jungkook’s own fault if he got hurt. He was the one who chose to spend all that time sitting at the laundromat with you talking about random shit. Your favorite video game – Persona 5, excelling in your top three most important things about a video game: music score, gameplay, and art style. Your favorite American rapper – Ludacris and the way he could rhyme the weirdest words. Your favorite movie genre – surrealist psychedelic drug movies, which earned you a confused head tilt. You had asked Jungkook what he liked. Mood lamps. Singing. Watching cooking videos on YouTube.
Had asked him if he believed in soulmates.
Your phone buzzed in your pocket as you ordered at the kiosk and paid.
You don’t think I could have met you in another life?
You stood with the other waiting patrons, ignoring everybody and your phone thrumming against your hip, thinking about last night.
I probably broke your heart.
Thinking about that smile with two piercings and a lip mole. That smile didn’t trust your answer at all.
Maybe the universe is giving me another chance to make up for my past mistakes. I can’t give up.
You made a face at past Jungkook’s answer, too taken aback all those hours ago to scowl properly. Maybe you had been too tired. Too worn down by his earnest nonsense to fight it properly at that moment. Your hand hovered over you hip, wondering if you should check it. Then dropped.
What, did you need to see him every day or something?
Your name was called and you stepped up to receive your order.
Oh, fuck, you miss him.
You yanked your phone out of your pocket and stared at it as you walked out of the restaurant, only to get plopped by a fat raindrop on the lit-up screen. You looked up to the gray sky and let out a hiss.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
You turned around and sat down, grumbling as rain poured down and you replied to Jungkook’s texts.
Stupid.
Not him. Just you.
-
friday.
“What are you trying so hard for?” you snapped.
“Why aren’t you trying hard enough?” Jeon Jungkook shot back.
It was going really well.
Clearly.
You let out a hiss and flicked your hands as if you were trying to physically get rid of his reply. Argh, this… man! The thundering rain was pouring down, down, and you were both standing under a bus stop with no intention of taking the bus. You bit back the volume of your sudden anger. There was no need to yell anyway. No one was coming out in the thick of this monsoon.
Only you and crazy-ass Jeon Jungkook.
Switched tactics. "And what makes you think your virgin ass–"
"I'm not a virgin!"
"You are here!"
And you jammed two fingers into that very muscular chest, right next to the left side of his sternum. Too fast to be stopped. The shove actually made him stumble. Or maybe it was the utter shock of the verbal and physical double jab combined with the deep growl that your voice had suddenly become. His racer jacket and black hair were slick with rain. Half of his white t-shirt soaked. Even the front of his blue jeans drenched.
You panted hard after your outburst, the anger draining away all in a flash of lightning.
Jungkook stared at you with stricken eyes.
The rain pelted down, down, beating into the silence.
“How did you know?” he breathed out.
You didn’t but somehow you did, feeling something inside of you break. Not afraid of the world. Never, never again. No, afraid of what you could do, afraid of breaking something this pure, because you broke your first love too and that past guilt still lingered. Not that you thought Jungkook loved you. He couldn’t This was only the fifth day of him knowing you.
The fuck is going on?
“I see your type all the time,” you sighed, your damp hair all over your face. “Looking for light in black holes instead of stars.” The rain had slipped off your black leather jacket. Your cropped band shirt wasn’t wet, but your black cargo pants were sodden knees down.
This coldness, however, didn’t come from the rain.
“You really should stop. For your own good.”
You looked away from him, feeling as if your own words had pierced bullet holes into your walls. Dark sky, never-ending rain, cars struggling to drive, people running with umbrellas and ponchos, arms huddled close to their bodies, and here you were just standing here in the rain, the world acting out your mind. How nice. You thought you had come to terms with everything, but obviously not. Somehow once you saw Jungkook again, once you felt his presence again, the pull was even stronger and the storm was even more intense and the worst part was that you didn’t want to leave.
You heard Jungkook’s soft, silvery voice through the gray rain.
“Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?”
You turned your head to look into those pleading brown eyes.
Lightning shot across the sky.
Thunder followed seconds after, eating up the night.
“W… What?”
He shook his head, dripping water.
“You haven’t hurt me. You don’t mean to, either.”
That smile, his hand extended, the inked snake on his wrist showing.
You stared at Jeon Jungkook with droplets beading on your skin but those goosebumps weren’t from the weather. Jerked your head away. What is with this gentleness? How could he know anything? He couldn’t know anything. He was just an airhead who watched too many dramas and made others believe that they could be real.
“Noona?”
You whipped your head to Jungkook, shocked at his use of the honorific. He only used it when Jimin was at the meal. Afterwards, the conversations had been clearly directed at you. Not completely informal speech, but sometimes you slipped and he did too. You never corrected him because, well.
You slapped his hand away.
Nothing was going to happen.
You closed the distance and grabbed his head, pressing your lips to his shaking ones.
It was going to be terrible. Cold. Wet. Acidic from the lingering feelings. There was no way that this kiss could be anything else with this setting.
This was real life.
Not a story.
Your hands cupped his cheeks and you sunk into his kiss. The hard edge of his jewelry and the softness of his breath, caught by your mouth, your eyes already screwed shut, nothing to do but feel, feel the way he instantly pressed back and set his hands on your elbows, pulling you closer, shuddering as your forearms pressed to his chest. A weird feeling, like two fires melting together, prickling racing across your skin, no, deeper, past your ribs and into your heart.
The storm raged on.
You snapped out of the kiss, nose to nose, water trickling in places it shouldn’t, over your eyelashes and down your neck, feeling fingers graze across your elbows. Slipping under the leather. Droplets soaking into your shirt and then warm hands lingering at the curve of your exposed waist.
Tracing your lines.
“Fuck,” you muttered.
And you kissed Jeon Jungkook again.
-
saturday.
No, you didn’t take him home. You’re reckless, yeah.
But you knew how that would go.
Not that Jungkook didn’t try. Maybe you would have done it, if you weren’t the equivalent of wet cat and equally torrenting emotions. His hands around your waist, pulling you closer, heat blossoming between layers of rain-drenched clothing, kiss after kiss, your hands in his hair, tangling those dark waves into wilderness, getting more and more breathless, heady with a feeling you knew but didn’t want to believe in.
For someone who hated lying, you sure enjoyed lying to yourself.
You had reasons.
How could this time be different if it was just following the same trajectory that you always followed?
You had to pry yourself from him, lips tingling, tongue curling, feeling your blood course through your veins and your heartbeat as loud as thunder, opening your eyes to his blissed-out expression, his own eyes still closed, pressing his lips together to savor your taste.
Damn.
You had wanted to tell him to stop it, stop it with all this falling, you were being dragged down by his vibe, clothes feeling heavy, desperate to be stripped away, but you kept your hands along the sides of his head, your exhale escaping but giving you away like a bad con artist.
Those shimmering dark eyes had opened, following Jungkook’s smile.
“You’re a great kisser, noona.”
His hands stayed on your waist, drumming his fingertips on your skin, tangible kisses creating invisible but no less real electricity.
You scoffed, corner of your lips rising.
“Shut up.”
Tendrils of his black-brown hair clung to his forehead. The rain drummed but it had lessened a bit. You had looked back to his eyes, defeated.
“Shut up so I don’t miss you more.”
One last, drawn-out kiss, tongue to tongue and you had broken from him, warning him sternly.
“Don’t follow me.”
Ran all the way home, face burning, not even feeling the rain even though it was still falling.
Now, present time, you sat at this boring farewell party in some fancy hotel with the sun blaring outside. Figures the nice weather would come out when you would have to stuff yourself in a fitted blazer dress and pretend to care about your boss’s boss retiring. Black, of course. For the formal occasion. Sadly, no one was dying except this old coot’s career.
Maybe you were a little salty that you couldn’t retire yet.
You looked down at your phone, which was on silent, noticing you had a new message.
ㅎ.ㅎ
O… Okay. Whatever that face was supposed to mean. You didn’t even bother to answer. Couldn’t, anyway, forced to plaster on a mildly interested expression as your boss gave a speech that you zoned out of. There were multiple large circular tables in the hotel ballroom. Outside the ballroom was an outdoor area with the buffet. Everyone had served themselves before sitting down, but, first, a few words.
A few was turning out to be too many and your salmon was getting cold.
Employees had been allowed to bring plus ones. Wives and husbands. There were a few empty seats, and a few significant others popped in mid-speech, trying to be quiet and politely bowing in apology. Of course, they weren’t required to be on time, having other obligations and such.
You twitched.
Was that why this was dragging on? So everyone could eat at once? For fuck’s sake, who cared if they were late. Then you noticed your boss’s wife stepping in, looking pretty and put-together in a forest green high-necked dress, holding the small hand of a kid in a lopsided children’s tuxedo with an equally confused expression.
Oh.
Come on.
You suddenly felt a disturbance in the Force.
“Excuse me. Sorry, sorry.”
You whipped your head around to see Jeon Jungkook in a black pinstripe suit cha-cha sliding in the empty chair next to you, picking up your black velvet purse and holding it out to you with a grin that made his large, dark brown eyes light up.
You gawked at him.
“Hey. Sorry I’m late.” He added your name politely and with affection, smooth as butter, criminal undercover. Even the honorific, oh, shit.
The blood drained out of your face and you tried not to think about how your co-workers sitting at the table were staring at you and him like you both had three heads. Of course, no one was supposed to be talking, so no one asked questions yet, but that was definitely going to start the second your boss was finished with his sentence.
You took your purse without another word and glared at Jungkook with such fire that you hoped he burned alive at the spot. Oh, this could turn into a murder and a funeral real fucking fast. All he did was give you those shining big peepers that made you want to strangle him. In an unsexy way.
For now.
You leaned over as the clapping started. He caught on and delicately leaned over, offering his ear to your lips.
“The fuck are you doing?”
Jungkook turned his head so only you could hear his whisper.
“I was nearby, so I figured…?”
You stared at him, plumb slack-jawed at this audacity.
He closed the distance and gently kissed your cheek. You ticked your head almost robotically, piercing eyes following his playful ones, and now you wondered if Jeon Jungkook was truly not right in the head or perfect for you.
Well.
You weren’t right in the head either.
You did text him earlier this morning that you needed to come to this party at this hotel to send off this important retiree. If you missed this, then it would have reflected poorly on you, especially when you wanted to keep your job, so, yes, it was part of the reason why you had not attempted to convince Jungkook to sleep over – not that he needed any convincing whatsoever – and the other reason was to get enough sleep so you could tolerate socializing. Did you think Jungkook was gonna finesse his way into the seat next to you? Hell no. Did you think he was gonna dress smartly and with his black hair parted neatly in the center, fuckin’ black tie pressed and collar pinned? Fuck, no.
Did you think you would like it?
No!
“How did you get them to let you in?” you hissed under your breath.
Jungkook was clapping like a seal because everyone else was. A champagne bottle was being popped. He looked systematically impressed and awed. Amazing acting. “I just said I was with you.” Glanced at you and grinned, the silver piercings on his lip gleaming. A hoop and a stud. “Aren’t I, noona?”
The urge to growl at him to shut the fuck up was silenced by your brain reminding you to be safe-for-work.
You felt a poke at your sleeve. Your co-worker sitting at your left, bleach-blond and with the curiosity of a child. Full of sudden comments and questions too, just like a kid.
“Oh, oh! You never mentioned anything about a boyfriend!” Because you didn’t have one until right now, apparently. “So handsome!” Yes, he was. You had taste. “How did you meet?” Circumstances beyond your control.
“Through a… friend.”
That was a very generous word for instigator Park Jimin.
Jungkook poked his head past you and waved. “Hi! Nice to meet you.” He was using you as a shield to avoid directly interacting with these people he didn’t know. Just chiming in with polite nods as you introduced him to the table and sitting back to let you have this uninvited spotlight that was burning you like the sun did to vampires.
Pretty close, in all honesty.
“Aw, what a sweet guy. It’s nice to meet you too. I didn’t think your type was so young and cute.”
You almost made a face of distaste. “You thought my type was old and ugly?” Oop, there goes your sharp tongue.
“Nooo.” You tried not to flinch at the playful slap of your arm. “More mature, maybe? But this is better. You don’t have to be so serious. Look at his smile! I bet that’s what drew you in.”
You glanced at Jungkook and he appropriately smiled big at the right time. Somehow, he had obtained a plate of steak. How, you didn’t care. You narrowed your eyes just a sliver. Jungkook did not stop smiling but there was at least an iota of fear in those big brown eyes. Speaking of vampire, maybe you should suck the life out of him because he was being too fuckin’ much.
“Well, he was persistent to put it lightly. Might as well give him the chance to win me over.”
Jungkook beamed like a billion-kilowatt lightbulb. Or a crystal chandelier. It depended if you wanted to say the light came from his white teeth or sparkling eyeballs.
Fuckity fuck.
You wanted to rub your temples but refrained.
You would never recover from this.
“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asked you later.
Oh, now he wondered if you’re mad. You didn’t even look at him, dragging him away from the crowd by the elbow. Hopefully you had stayed long enough but there had been so many of the same questions that you were either getting dizzy or murderous. Hm. Why not both?
“I’m not mad at you,” you muttered.
“You kinda sound mad.”
“I’m not mad but I’m gonna get mad if you keep saying I am,” you warned. “Don’t start a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“A what?”
“Where did you park?”
His voice became small even though he was right next to you. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
The sun was blaring down on the open parking lot, it was annoyingly humid, you were socially drained, and this, not this. You spun abruptly, too much crashing down too fast, flinging Jungkook’s arm from you.
“No,” you hissed out. “No. Don’t you dare take it back. You wanna be crazy and drive me crazy, fine, do it, keep doing it, don’t stop, but own up. I’ve got enough push-and-pull jammed into my head and I don’t need you adding to it.”
It was so easy to simply give in to the rising anger, but you found yourself locked into Jungkook’s wide, taken-back eyes, drowning in them, deeper than the ocean, seeing how rueful he was.
“Don’t do that to me,” you sighed.
At least your voice didn’t crack. You didn’t want to be angry anyway.
You raised your hand to cup his cheek but paused, not knowing anymore what was what. Always been so sure until the world started getting flipped upside down by Jeon Jungkook. You always knew all of the things to do to make someone interested, all the things to say to make them swoon, and now you didn’t know anything at all because this guy showed up and jumped right in, not even caring about the damages, the fine print, or the past that lingered.
Why are you blaming yourself for shit that hasn’t even happened yet?
Jungkook leaned forward and completed the curve of his cheek into your hollow palm, now looking at you eye-to-eye with a curious expression.
The corner of your lips curved upwards.
You leaned forward, saying your next words very seriously.
“You. Are. Crazy.”
-
sunday.
You sat against the window, waiting for the document to print out.
No one was in the office. You had rolled over here out of sheer boredom, looking up at the gray-blue sky and watching shafts of sunlight phase in and out. Overtime to prepare documents for Monday. You hadn’t bothered to follow dress code, but there was a breeze today, so you wore brown plaid trousers and an old vintage t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. The faded album cover of Papa Roach’s Infest. Your oversized black leather jacket was on the back of your office chair once again.
You spun in your chair, the print job long done.
Thought back on the week.
Day one, awkward dinner and the start of a rollercoaster.
Day two, clutching your phone and waiting for replies due to the spotty service of the subway.
Day three, washing machines and dryers and long conversations.
Day four, shitty day with a nice ending to more texts. Better service too.
Day five, cold rain and warm lips.
Day six, surprise! You have a boyfriend and everybody knows!
You got up and wandered to the copier. Stacked everything up and clipped the right parts together, setting it on your boss’s desk. Glanced at the time at your computer. The blank screensaver abruptly appeared, showing you your blurred reflection.
Your fingertips lingered on your chest, the soft, worn fabric of the shirt reminding you of night after tumultuous night of the past. Time that made you, you. Scars you made by holding on too tightly to pain others gave you. The thought of scars in others that you started and they held on to. Repenting, in a way, healing the hearts that came in your path with intimacy and the passion you were afraid to show Jeon Jungkook because what if, what if…
What if it actually matched well?
“You,” Park Jimin had said to you months ago, “You need someone who thinks of you as their whole world.”
“I don’t want that.”
“You don’t want it. But you need it.”
You didn’t have Park-Jimin-being-right on this year’s bingo card, fuck.
You clocked out and collected your stuff, turning off the lights as you left the office, black boots the only solid sound around you, pulling out your phone to check the address one more time.
“Why are you wearing clothes?” you asked accusingly.
“Um…?”
You gripped the sides of the denim jacket and yanked it off his shoulders, pinning Jeon Jungkook’s arms to his sides. He immediately yelped but you silenced him by stepping through the door and pulling him to you by the button placket, tracing the edge of his open lips with your tongue.
“W-Wait, noona, the d-door…”
“I don’t care.”
Kissed him, deeply.
That now familiar scent, closer, slipping your tongue between his lips, succumbing to the flutters. In, out, feeling him collapse under you and moan in his throat, hard body stumbling into yours, hand haphazardly smacking the edge of the door.
It closed behind you.
You rolled your body into his, closer than close with too many layers in between, tangling his arms in his own jacket, swallowing his gasp and feeling him wiggle determinedly to free his hands and then they were on your face, strong fingers fanning out over your jaw, his jacket falling to the floor, hungrily following your tongue and lips with his own.
Something addicting about the addition of metal to those soft mouth.
This was your forte, the ability to make fantasies come true, and you took it seriously, throwing your bag onto the table by the door and shedding the protective layer of leather. Pressed chest to chest, holding his head and tracing his lips, slow fucking them, running your fingertips over the curve of his ears and making him shiver, noting the three hoops along his left ear.
Pressed your hands down his chest, over the smooth ribbed white tank molding to his muscular torso, down, down, kissing past his lips, to that mole underneath, down his chin, his head tipping back, your name drifting above your head as you kissed down his neck, the sharp clean scent of his cologne getting stronger.
“I thought… we were… o-oh, g-going out…”
“I’m gonna fuck you,” you breathed into his collarbones, hot and low, nicking his skin with your teeth and making him shiver. “Right now. Tonight. Maybe tomorrow too.” Undid the button of his jeans with some effort, yanking him towards you again and molding your hips to his, thighs to hard thighs, and that stiffness wasn’t only a sturdy zipper. “Tuesday as well. Fuck it.”
“The whole week,” Jungkook gasped as you unzipped his charcoal jeans.
“Yeah, good, you’re keeping up,” you murmured and grabbed his head again, catching a fistful of his black hair, kissing him hard with your other palm pressed to his hardness. Your tongue tracing the edge of his lips, breathing into his mouth and swallowing Jungkook’s wanton moan, intoxicated by the moment.
You pulled back just to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it to the floor.
It took longer for it to float down than for you to get on your knees.
“Woah…!”
Hooked your fingers on the elastic waistband of his Calvin Kleins and tugged them down, exhaling over that thick length that popped out. He smelled clean, like he had just showered, and you half-smiled, approving, closing the distance to curl your tongue around hard taut skin.
“Ooooh… fuuuuuuuck…”
Tightly taking control, using only your tongue to scoop around his girth and flick against his balls. Kisses, licks, flutters of breath, all of it, sensation after sensation, layering on the heat, adding sweetness to the obscene, his twitching cock hitting your cheek as you pressed kisses to his balls.
“Let me show you something,” you hummed and swallowed his pride.
Jungkook gasped so loud that his hands shot up to his mouth, fingers laced over his moan, one inked arm and one tan one, tilting his head back as your lips closed around him, softly, your tongue cupping the head, caressing the underside, the slit, letting him throb against wet muscle. Pushed him up to the roof of your mouth and slowly, in and out, rubbing the base of the head against your lips every time you ascended, fanning your fingers over his crotch to hold the base and cup his balls in between your index and thumb. Steady and consistent, sucking him off with deliberate precision.
You had a lot of fancy skills to show off but, for this first time, might as well give him the stripped-down version.
Heh.
So you blew Jungkook at his front door in your bra and pants with his clothes half-on and struggling to breathe.
“A-Ah, so s-soft… and so tight… h-how…”
You didn’t speed up. Didn’t put in more force. Used your whole torso, not just your head and neck, to avoid strain, holding his hips to take him deeper but at the same pace, letting the orgasm build with his heart rate, running your thumbs over his balls, a gentle caress, closing your eyes to savor it. Hard and twitching, but you didn’t let him disturb what you had going on, extending out the minutes, saturating every second with flowing, unavoidable bliss.
What?
You could match his vibe with your kind of romance.
You heard Jungkook’s pitch hike and the muscles under your fingers all tensed up. You spared a look upwards, but he wasn’t looking at you, shoving his hands into his messy black hair, displaying his prominent triceps, and moaning to the ceiling, dragging his bangs over his eyes.
“Oh my God, I’m cumming, fuuuuck…!”
You pillowed your tongue around the head and his salty orgasm flooded your mouth, spilling out and down your throat, but you cupped what you could and coated the sensitive head, pleased to hear Jungkook’s shudder and whimper of ecstasy, gripping his hair and pulling. The close-fitted nature of his tank top left nothing to the imagination, the aftershock rippling up his chest, even his hardened nipples poking against the fabric.
You swallowed.
Jungkook moaned and his head fell back again, his eyes probably rolled back.
Gotta finish him off right.
You licked around him carefully, cleaning him off and keeping him hard.
“You…”
Cocked an eyebrow as you shifted your eyes up, his cock buried in your throat, pulsing your muscles around his length. His chin was on his chest, wayward dark curls hanging down, shaking wide eyes watching you with fascination, his shaking voice full of awe.
“You know… how porn calls it a mouth-pussy? I really thought that shit was fake and sounded stupid, but… you have a mouth-pussy.”
You blinked at him and tried not to snort out in laughter.
You just raised both eyebrows and flicked his balls with your tongue. A few seconds later, you pulled back and countered with, “Really? Mouth-pussy? That’s how you show gratitude for the best suck of your life?”
“B-But it’s true!”
You shook you head and waved a hand at him.
“Clothes. Off.”
Every hour, every minute, every second.
Full of sex.
Jungkook wasn’t lying. He wasn’t a virgin. He was a little too good at fingering to be a virgin. Well, you hadn’t had his dick yet but it was pretty obvious with the slow circles on your clit and the kissing of your collarbones. Clothes didn’t even make it to the bedroom. Most of them were left by the door. Your shoulder blades and ass touching the bed, his other hand along your back and tracing your spine as he kissed across your breasts, shyly shifting his gaze back to your face to constantly check if you were enjoying it, not quite confident that he was making your heart flutter. You smirked back at him, taking his hand and pressing his fingers to your wet slit, pushing them in yourself.
He breathed out with you, watching your face as the pleasure snaked out from your core.
Two of them, taking it slow, but you shook your head and pressed his down, your hard nipple against his lips, and he followed your lead, faster, harder, your inner walls clenching around him, sighing deeply as the pleasure flowed, soft licks and tracing tongue. You let him have it, the slower, more romantic pace, spreading your fingers over his sheets and thrusting into his hand, adding to the pleasure, and Jungkook’s eyes glittered, kissing from one nipple to another with a smile.
“Harder?”
“And faster,” you agreed, licking the air between you and him.
Hey, you weren’t a virgin either and you liked it rough.
He kissed you first, entranced by your tongue, harder, faster, your hips following his hand, entangled in this beat, and then it was back to your nipples, kissing sucking, sparks of sensuality over your skin, your hands diving into his hair. Heat. Roughness. Passion, catching your breath and your head falling back, inhaling his scent and the clean sheets, the orgasm flooding through you, delicately forming his name with your lips.
“Ah, Jungkook…”
You didn’t let it stop there though.
His hand moved to pull out and you clutched his wrist and pushed him back in, your nail catching his ring finger, collecting it too, gasping at the added fullness, and you pulled his left hand out from under your back.
Jungkook watched you curiously as your rode his right hand and turned his left, thumb down.
You fitted it around your neck and positioned it correctly, grinning devilishly at him.
He got the hint.
Slightly unsure at first but you built his confidence, comfortably laying back on his bed and spreading out your fingers, moaning softly for him, rocking your hips into his hand, climbing to the high again, stronger his time. His fingers pressed inwards and you breathed out, savoring the choking, the way time slowed down, the way the sensations heightened, your spine arching, low gasp like heavy smoke, immortalizing the moment in his memory, black pupils blown out in those beautiful dark eyes, leaning forward to run his tongue over your nipples.
Your fingers curled into the sheets, thrusting into his fingers harder.
Lids heavy, drowning in the pleasure, his tongue, his hands, the way he looked at you like you were his whole world, the tension between you and him, sweet and intense and overwhelming, just perfect, your exhale only a thin wisp now, closing your eyes and moaning to the ceiling as you came.
It was a hard, thundering pulse, much more powerful than before, your shivering pussy gripping his fingers and your hips bucking. Thighs snapping closed, whining as you felt the hardness of his tattooed forearm, your head snapping to the side the second he released you, the rushing blood knocking you down and making your nerves sing, strong flinches across your arms and torso. Gasping to catch your breath.
Wasn’t his first time choking, but maybe the first time he got really turned on by it, because Jungkook was ogling you like a three-star Michelin meal.
It was like that all night.
From the first time he entered you, one condom wrapper the start of many, biting the left side of his lip and shuddering – “H-How are you so tight…? I just f-fingered you – oooh!” – and you wrapped around him tightly, smirking a little too smugly, one arm around his neck and one leg on his shoulder. Your fingers petaled around the base of his head, cupping him in the flower of your touch. Your thigh against his hard chest still trembling from your kisses. You angled your hips and he slipped in deeper, groaning in disbelief, his brows furrowing at you.
“H-Hey!”
Your tongue pocketed in the side of your smirk and you fucked him right.
“Gah!”
Jungkook, too, fucked you right.
You lead the pace so he could bring the force of his hips. Ah, fuck, right there, like that, and you let him know, the cries tumbling out and mixing with his, rushing wave after wave pressing into you, filling you with his girth and his power. You brought the intensity, the flint to his flame, the break in his pride and Jungkook was looking down at you, shoulders flexed, jaw tight and eyes hazy, clear emotion swirling within them and you saw your own gaze fixated on him, wanting him more than you wanted the sex.
Oh.
Shit.
You gasped and dug your nails into his scalp, grasping the pillow and throwing your head back, not expecting the suddenness of your high, injected into your heartbeat and pushing all the air out of your lungs, veins ablaze with heat as your core clenched, inner walls throbbing all around him. Jungkook groaned, biting his lower lip and thrusting hard, the small mole underneath shaking just as hard as his shoulders, but he couldn’t hold back any longer, squeezing his eyes shut, muffled scream as he came, his head falling back, two tones the start of an ongoing, wanton melody.
“Holy… fuck…”
Well, more like unholy fuck but you didn’t correct him.
You kind of expected him to pull out and leave, but instead his head snapped back and he dived down, catching your lips and dripping sweat on you, making you both laugh. Kiss after kiss, all over your face, and you could barely sputter out – “Oi, you’re sweaty!” – but he didn’t care, kissing all over your cheeks and down your neck, your chest, slurping at your nipples, you narrowed your eyes at that but those playful eyes just sparkled with deviousness, trailing down, down.
Slowing.
Jungkook pressed his lips to your waist, looking up at you.
Your heart thundered against your chest and sparks danced over your skin.
Somehow at ease.
“What?”
You smiled down at him.
“I don’t ever want to leave your side.”
Your lips parted to give him a snappy comeback, yeah, well, I gotta go to work, but nothing came out.
Jungkook grinned, his whole face lighting up and dove between your legs, biting and kissing the inside of your thighs, attacking them with his menacing mouth.
“Hey! Oi! I’m sensitive, f-fuck!”
Even planting a fat wet kiss on your clit for good measure.
“Ah!”
Shoving his tongue in your pussy.
“YO!”
You gawked at his audacity, twisting away from him. Infuriatingly, he followed, scrambling for your ass.
“There was just a condom in there!”
“Ah, who cares,” said the one that clearly didn’t. “Kiss me.”
“Hell no!”
After cleaning up and pinning him down on his own bed and thoroughly scolding him, somehow you ended up making out with Jungkook and his fingers were in your pussy again. It sounded very wet and squishy down there, probably because you showed Jungkook just now much you liked kisses under your earlobe. His tongue against your skin, teeth nicking, sucking hard and making you moan and grind on his hand, pressing against his chest.
“Sit on my face,” he whispered in your ear.
Which was know you ended up grasping his headboard and his tongue between your legs, the piercing pressed against the left side of the outer lips. You kept your weight on your knees, but Jungkook grabbed your ass and tipped your hips at a different angle, your clit right on his tongue, his nose against your crotch.
“Fuuuuck, you smell so good…”
You could barely hear him but you felt him speak, gasping at the strange sensation of hot breath and swiping tongue, his lips wrapping around your most sensitive nerves. He had a much softer tongue, but there was consistency there and plenty of gusto. It helped, actually, to have his hands gripping your thighs, adding the amplifying pleasure of restraint. You rode his face, matching the movement of his tongue. One of your hands left the headboard. Trapped your nipples between your fingers and pulled at them, making Jungkook’s eyes go wide and watch eagerly, licking and sucking harder.
Layered and intricate, full of sensation and emotion, gazing down at him and smirking as the sparks turned into lightning and you soaked his face, shivering, tipping forward at the flinches of climax, swearing under your thin breath, panting, snapped tension draining you and wetly sticking to his lips, his tongue, his cheeks.
He shoved his tongue into your quivering pussy and you sucked in a breath, feeling your inner walls pulsate around his curling muscle, his low, gravelly moan filling what little air there was between his mouth and you, his satisfaction vibrating through your body and mixing with your afterglow.
You slid down his chest and kissed him again, tasting your subtle sweet-sour on his slick lips.
He wanted you to jack him off hard and fast, the fingers of your other hand splayed out over his chest, forgetting about anything else, time only a construct, your phones discarded by the door, and here, in this bed, there was only Jungkook and you, his cock pulsing in your grip, your foxy expression to his desperate one, his eyes rolling back in the intensity, biting down hard on the left side of his lip, the small mole underneath shaking in anticipation, the tendons of his neck popping out.
You raised your free hand and gently stroked his cheek with your knuckle as you punished his cock.
His lower lip popped out of his mouth and he groaned, rough and breathless.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
A hot stream of liquid dripping down the back of your hand, drenching you and him in the strong scent of sex. Thick and potent, and you leaned forward and kissed him deeply, tightly holding his jerking cock and squeezing it all out of him.
“You’re amazing,” Jungkook panted, even after getting up – once again – to attempt to clean up your collective mess.
“Mhm,” you hummed, sitting beside him. He was radiating heat. “I was never worried about that.”
“Hah… You’re… You’re crazy…”
You had obtained your phone and just now sent a message to your boss that you would be taking a sick day on Monday. You have plenty of those. “Speak for yourself.”
“I mean, you’re like… um… uh, oh! A semen demon…”
“What?”
You almost threw your phone in laughter. Actually, you couldn’t even hear Jungkook’s explanation for what the hell he meant by semen demon because you were laughing too hard, barely able to breathe. There wasn’t a normal explanation anyway – how could there be? – and you kept inelegantly snorting afterward at inappropriate times. Jungkook, for his part, seemed proud for making you laugh so much.
“You look so beautiful laughing.”
Your response was quick, immediate, and lighthearted.
“Shut up.”
He snuggled his still too warm head into the crook of your shoulder.
“Will you stay?”
You gave him a look and then showed him the sent text message on your phone. There was something special and perfect about the smile that lit up his face, clearly showing his devotion and clearly seeing yours.
“Yeah, I’ll stay.”
Jungkook skipped work too. Both of you ended up sleeping in.
--
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b00tyliciousbabe · 24 days
Text
waves
pairing: surfer!bf x THICC!male reader
summary: oh, how i need a tall, curly headed goofball…
notes: HOPE MY LOVELIES ARE DOING WELL. trying to get through my requests, but this was a personal one of mine. slowly but surely y’all! as summer is coming to an end, it was SO necessary for me to feed my hot girl delusions at least a couple more times. also, enjoy the new style i have been experimenting with!
song rec: they. - diamonds and pearls
album rec: sabrina carpenter - short n sweet (my girl sabz ate so hard with this project, i just wish it was released in early aug so she could’ve rly CONQUERED summer 2024) THEE POP PRINCESS!
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brief background:
your boyfriend was raised with a silver spoon; he’d never had to work a day in his life and everything he ever wanted, he got. well, everything except you. throwing money to impress people had worked on all of his other childhood crushes, but not you, which made him all the more determined to prove to you he wasn’t just some fuck boi the media painted him out to be. his family owned the richest resort in the carribean, and had hotels in every mega city worldwide. but wherever they travelled to, your man was never too far from a beach. call it fate, but the sea would always lead you back to him. it was where he first laid eyes on you; reading a very lengthy novel as you laid on the sand, watching your friends play in the water. after their surf practice, your mutual friends introduced the two of you and you were SMITTEN - but you couldn’t show your interest too soon. he too was whipped, and didn’t take nearly as much effort to hide it, practically drooling whilst staring at you. his mates would constantly ridicule him for his dazed expression around you, and he could never hear the end of the new nickname ‘bambi boy’ you gave him because he looked so cute when he was flustered. after weeks of regular conversation and a couple walks on the beach, he officially asked to be your boyfriend and you said yes.
when it came to finally introducing you to his family, they loved you almost as much as he did. he was the youngest of six and so he got the privilege of this. his parents especially were wishing y’all would stay together. they believed you were the perfect match for their goofball of a son.
core memory sfw:
the first time he said ‘i love you’ with TRUE meaning; you were always worried that you were just one fuck away from being forgotten, but your man made sure to constantly affirm his love for you. he brought you the biggest bouquet of your favourite flowers, and stood outside in the pouring rain, playing a mixtape he’d made for you. it was genuinely a scene out of a film, he was your knight in shining armour (a hawaiian shirt and matching shorts) and it was then that you knew that you guys were endgame.
core memory nsfw:
to say your bf loves your body is an understatement. the way he’s hooked on your body, some might say it’s borderline unhealthy. he’s so handy and keeps his hands on your ass all the time. whether it’s a spank, watching it jiggle as you walk away from him, or a full on grip as his pulls you onto his dick, he’s a man that would gladly die between your cheeks. one time during dinner you wore a wrap skirt paired with a tank top, paired with a thong that was peeping out enough to make your man’s eyes pop out of his head like a cartoon character. as his jaw dropped, practically salivating at the sight of your body moving closer to him, you picked it up and giggled, stroking his chin endearingly. for the entire meal he was practically sat right next to you, breathing in your luscious skin. ‘boy, you better calm down, we have company.’ you giggled. ‘fuck bby, how can you say that when you look good enough for me to eat?’ he whispered into your ear, trying not to bring too much attention. before you knew it you were face down, ass up and your thong was pulled to the side, as he used it as a pseudo leash keeping your pussy bouncing on his cock.
your favourite thing about him: his oddball nature.
as much as it can annoy you that he’s always cracking jokes, leaving no room for respite, your bf never fails to bring joy to your life. as the life of the party he’s always bringing that much needed energy to the dull world of his mostly corporate family. whether it be seeing you hollering at some unhinged thing he’d said, or watching him (ironically) fuck the smile onto your lips, you can tell that comedy is who he is, and you wouldn’t change your weirdo for anything.
his favourite thing about you: how artistic you are.
almost impossibly, it makes your boyfriend fall in love with you even more seeing your creativity flourish. you’re always making him jewellery out of the shells and stones you find. he loves to wear them, it gets you going when you see the necklace you made for him swing back and forth as he fucks into you. or when you feel the cold of his rings and bracelet on your waist as he holds you in position to fuck you even harder. he’s so proud of you.
his insta post: mostly just him showing off his good looks (we love a cocky man around here) and his beach flix.
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surfer!bf my face is his favourite seat.
y/n: that big dick is a very close second though.
tinashe replied: @y/n, you a nasty girl fr.
sabrinacarpenter replied: @y/n girl, need you on that bed chem remix. about to do some damage…in a good way x
your insta post: almost always pictures of your creations; you like to keep your relationship with him private, that’s YOUR man, and you can get very possessive.
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y/n feel free to add to your pinterest boards.
surfer!bf: baby you’re so talented 🩵
viviennewestwood: so excited to see your next collection!
surfer!bf: i love you.
y/n replied: @surfer!bf aw, i love you too babes!
plans for the future!
being with one of the greatest surfers in the world, definitely came with some amazing perks.
marriage:
oh, he’s 100% thought about it, and would definitely be the one to propose. the free spirit in him doesn’t need a piece of paper to prove that he loves you, truly. But would totally be your husband if you let him x
children:
your surfer!bf ABSOLUTELY WANTS TO HAVE A FAMILY WITH YOU! sees himself as the best father and y’all would have the cutest kids ever.
tag list:
@gayaristocrat
@multireese
@malereadermaniac
@lysanderplume
@ghostking4m
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