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#and when summer kicks in? BABY!!
apothekosm · 5 months
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Got a permit from the county office to shoot for three days (including an overnight shoot!!) at a historic ghost town near the pine barrens! WE START SHOOTING END OF MAY!!
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shredsandpatches · 8 months
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Was just reading about this production of Gounod Faust and while it otherwise sounds pretty cool, I have decided I very much hate it when productions add a Rosemary's Baby element to the whole doomed-illegitimate-baby plot. Although this one had a less offensive approach to the matter than the Paris production with the same singers playing Faust and Mephistopheles, I guess.
(It was a demon baby in that one, I guess because it would be really hard to make that aspect of the plot work in 21st century Europe, but still *grinds teeth*)
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crowcryptid · 1 year
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first day in Minneapolis is done. Cool place. Heard many birds, didn’t see that many. I did see an indigo bunting and a pileated woodpecker though.
Also I saw this in a bathroom 🫡
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One thing I have noticed though, and I noticed this throughout texas as well, other places are so.. clean? Very little trash on the side of the road and they have people cleaning up the litter. It might seem basic but Miami doesn’t do this and there’s trash all over as a result
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joelsowlmug · 2 years
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still can’t believe i’m getting married the day before the tlou show comes out and also honeymooning in jackson??????????
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actual-corpse · 3 months
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Cat hole
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suguann · 4 months
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Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.
He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 
(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)
“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”
“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”
A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”
“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”
“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.
“So? Let them stare.”
Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 
“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    
And then Mio kicks the ball into— 
The wrong goal.
“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.
Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.
The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.
It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 
He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.
Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.
That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”
“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.
“Were they?”
“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”
Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—
“Where’s Mio?”
A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”
Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 
“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”
Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.
“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 
You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.
You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.
“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”
Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 
And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”
(Who knows?
Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)
Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.
(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 
That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—
“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.
“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.
You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.
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fallingforyouforeverr · 2 months
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𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐭 | 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬
summary: lando begins to panic when you don't want to cuddle with him
author's note: it's really hot rn where I live so i just wanted to write a cute little blurb inspired by my own suffering. vote here for who i write my next fic about!
• f1 masterlist • youtubers masterlist •
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Lando was confused. He didn't think he had done anything wrong, and you didn't seem to be upset with him until now, so he couldn't possibly understand why you were refusing to cuddle with him.
It started off as most of your evenings did. After dinner, he washed the dishes while you dried and put them away, then you both moved into the living room to watch some tv before bed. Only, when Lando tried to pull you closer, you pushed his arm off you, moving away and leaving your boyfriend staring at you like a kicked puppy.
You didn't seem to think anything of it, settling back down on the other side of the sofa and pressing play on your favourite show. However, Lando was still frozen, mind reeling from your rejection. He wondered if you were ignoring him because you were mad or if it was just a mistake and you genuinely couldn't feel his eyes on you.
At last, the uncertainty became to much to bear and he decided to speak up. "Um...baby?" He asked tentatively, watching your face closely to see your reaction.
"Yeah?" You answered, glancing away from the screen.
Huh. That's weird. You didn't seem mad at all, and you obviously weren't ignoring him, so what was this about? Maybe you weren't feeling well suddenly?
"You feeling okay, sweetheart?"
Turning your body to face him, your equally as confused expression only eased his worries slightly. "Yeah, I'm alright. Why?"
Deciding it was probably best to be direct, Lando spoke again. "You pushed me away!"
You couldn't help but giggle at the adorable pout on his face, suddenly feeling bad for not explaining your behaviour earlier. "Lan, my love, I'm so sorry! I promise I'm not mad at you or anything, it's just because of the weather."
"The weather?" His expression changed, a slight frown settling into his brow as he waited for you to continue speaking.
"It's too hot," you explained. "It's my first summer in Monaco, I wasn't expecting it to be this warm. I didn't want to cuddle because I knew I would overheat."
Lando mentally slapped himself for not thinking of that as a possibility. He had lived here for a few years so he was used to the unrelenting sunshine by now, but you had only moved in with him recently so of course you weren't. He couldn't help but laugh at how much he was stressing over something so small.
"You idiot, making me panic like that!" The brunette scolded you playfully. You stared up at him innocently, batting your eyelashes with a smile.
Lando suddenly grabbed hold of your waist, and you shrieked loudly. You wriggled helplessly in his grasp, as he tickled you sides, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
"I'll stop if you say sorry."
"Never," you gasped, swatting at his hands. He merely shrugged, tickling you harder.
"You sure?"
"Okay, okay, I-I'm sorry!" You managed between breathless pants.
Lando grinned cheekily at you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath before he leaned in to kiss you softly. You threw your arms around his neck tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. When you finally had to pull away for air, he rested his forehead against yours.
"I thought you were too hot," he teased, causing you to groan again and smack his shoulder. Lando pressed another quick kiss to your lips before continuing, "and for the record, I am definitely buying you like 20 fans tomorrow."
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sassyhazelowl · 1 year
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I'd like to bird shame ALL of my hens for thinking the hottest weekend of the year is a prime time to start sitting on their clutches. Special award goes to the finch hen, who I didn't even KNOW was a hen (suspected but no egg, no hen on these birds), who decided NOW was the time to lay her first clutch so she and her 2 boyfriends can all die sitting on them in 110F+ weather along with the dove and her beau a few feet over on their nest. At least the quail are on the ground underneath them where its cooler.
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chxrryhansen · 7 months
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okay but rafe shamelessly peeking up your skirt is something so personal to me
omg omg wait s1 golf frat boy rafe x cutesy kinda bimbo reader??? COUNT ME IN. p.s- i have no idea how to play golf so i wrote my best interpretation😭
₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧
you sat in rafes private golf caddy watching as he lined up his next shot, his backwards cap keeping his hair out of his eyes and his muscular legs spread wide as he takes the shot.
rafe had asked (told) you to come watch him play, he thought it would be a cute date idea for you both to get out of the house since it was way too hot to stay cooped up inside all day… when in reality he just wanted to show off his skills and impress his girl.
“rafeeeeey.” you whined in a high pitch tone.
he turns to look back at you with a sour expression, wiping the sweat from his brows with one arm, using the other to lean against his golf club. “quit distracting me. what dya’ want?” he pants in the summer heat.
“i’m boreddddd” you moan again, standing from your seat in the cabby and bouncing over to him.
his free hand reaches out to grip your face, smushing your cheeks together tight “what’ve i told you about the whining? daddy’s tryna’ play a game here, sweetcheeks.”
you look up at him with big puppy dog eyes “can you teach me? please rafey…i’m so bored just sittin’ here, daddy please.”
he lets out an irritated groan, knowing you were too ditzy to understand how golf works and way too uncoordinated to actually putt a ball. he looks back at you giving you a once over, a smirk appearing on his face.
“you know what? sure pretty girl, c’mere.”
you yelp with excitement, moving to stand infront of him, your short pink skirt barely reaching your thighs as you bounce over and your tits jiggling, practically spilling out of your tight shirt.
rafe stands behind you as he passes you the golf club, quickly showing you the correct way to hold it before he moves onto your position. kicking your feet apart and pressing down on your back with his thick fingers, forcing you to arch your back as he bites his lip, his cock already growing hard.
“that’s it baby, stay just like that. now, lift your arm up like this, and strike.” you beam at him while he instructs you before focusing on the ball.
you raise your arm holding the club tight before you strike it. not even noticing rafe bending down slightly, his legs still spread wide around your figure and his fingers lifting your short skirt, peeking at your cute, pink panties underneath, he lets out a low “fuckkk.” at the sight, not loud enough for you to notice seeming as you were concentrating.
“rafey! look! i hit it. look how far it went!” you gasp, raising one arm to block the sun as you search for the ball with your eyes.
“yeah babe, daddy’s super proud of you.” he mutters, not paying attention to a word you said, instead focusing on the slightly damp patch on your panties.
he brings his thumb to your pussy, rubbing over the soaked material. your panties beginning to stick to your cunt as he thumbs your sensitive slit.
you whimper in surprise, your head spinning to look at him in shock. “daddy! wh-what are you doing?!” you hush, eyes wide, looking around quickly to see if anybody had noticed what he was doing, which they hadn’t… yet.
rafe hushes you before pulling your skirt back down and giving your ass a harsh smack. lifting up from his bent knees and looking down at you with a large smirk.
“nice panties, baby. where’d you get em?” he asks rhetorically, a sly smile appearing on his face.
knowing for a fine fact he bought them, as he does everything else, your clothes, food, shoes. you name it, he bought it. because that’s what wealthy daddy’s like him do. and rafe is without question, wholeheartedly, your daddy.
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inklore · 2 months
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the lake is for lovers.
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— tyler owens x f!reader
premise: summer will always be your favorite, spending weeks at the lake house with the crew. drinking, good food, sneaking off with tyler, making love under the stars. what more could a girl ask for?
contents: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, foreplay, coming inside, alcohol consumption, oral, weed mention, fluff, tyler’s favorite pet name is baby ok fight me, he’s also thick as hell | wc: 6k+
note: this fic started out as filth on a dock, which then turned into me making a getting d at the lake playlist, which only worsened my tyler brainrot and made me write these cluster of filthy blurbs.
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There were many reasons for you to love summer. 
Picnics under a favored willow tree, ice cream shops coming out with outlandish sugary concoctions that could take down even the most rambunctious five year old. The days are longer, filled with more laughs and bonfires. Fireworks—as if that had a designated season to be let off, Boone would take on anyone who thought differently. 
Tornado season was over, which, depending on who you asked, was not a reason to love the overheated season.
But your favorite thing about summer was by far the weeks you and the crew spent at Dex’s lake house back in Arkansas. A lake house that had gone from his retirement home when he left a shitty corporate job to a summer sanctuary for the family he found doing what he truly loved.
So every summer, all of you loaded up Tyler’s truck, the van, and the motor home and headed to the private dwelling, where you would spend the rest of the summer swimming, napping on the dock, raiding Boone’s smoke stash, and finding the nearest field to stare up at the stars. 
Or your favorite: drinking until Tyler wrangled you into the house and into bed before you and Dani took the boat out for a joy ride, or you and Lilly had another incident of lighting said boat on fire with a miss trajectory of a firework that Boone gets scolded at for bringing out when everyone was three sheets to the wind by your wrangler.
As if he didn’t love it.
As if he had not convinced you all to jump into the lake naked one night. 
“Oh no,” The man himself shook his head. Placing his hand over yours, your fingers wrapped around the head of a bottle of tequila. The cart already filled with boxes of Miller and Budweiser.
“Oh yes.” Your fingers wrapped together around the bottle, pulling it halfway off the shelf before he actually used force to stop you—that force being lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing.
Moving his body so he was standing beside you, chest to chest. Your brows raise when you try to pull the bottle again, and he squeezes your fingers harder.
“Tyler.” 
“Baby.” 
You roll your eyes, “Boone wants it.”
“Yeah, Boone wants it!” 
You both can’t help laughing as you hear the man himself yelling from three shelves away. 
“Lilly wants it too!” 
“Don’t be a pussy,” Dani yells as if there aren’t other people in the store with you—Tyler leaning his head back with a sigh, his mouth pulled in a smile. 
If the shop owner wasn’t used to the group of you making a pit stop at the decently sized—rundown—off the road liquor store several times during the summer; you’re sure he would have kicked half of you out. 
“Yeah,” you say, giving him that teasing smile, turning your head to the side. Walking your free fingers up his chest. “Don’t be a pussy.” You whisper, looking up at him. His smile turns into a smirk as he leans down, his lips hovering above yours. 
“The last time ya’ll had Tequila Boone got stuck on the roof.” He is completely serious, but he says it in that voice that makes you want to melt into his hands and do whatever he wants. That stern undertone that made you want to listen and rebel—either outcome was always one you loved. 
You nod. “True, but.” Your palm flattens against his chest, moving up until your fingers play with the baby hairs at the back of his neck. “If I recall, you weren’t complaining when you were fucking me sober that night. So, if anything, I think it’s a win for all of us.” 
“Not for Boone.”
“Not for Boone.” You both smile before pressing your lips together, Tyler’s hand guiding the bottle into the cart, trapping you between him in the cart when his arms wrap around your middle. 
“Glad you could see it my way.” You bite your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering, as he gives you that sweet smirk when you grab the ball cap from his head and slip it on yours. Pulling out of his arms to walk down the aisle, “now hurry up, so we can revisit memory lane.” 
“Yes, ma’am.” 
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The first morning you’re there is when your worst hangovers occur. 
The first night of drinking is always the hardest you do, as if the steam of working for months wrangling and chasing storms has finally been let out. Decompressed of the pressures of having to worry about live streaming and fixing something on Ty’s truck.
It was a blessing that the nearest neighbor was at least five minutes away, with Tyler’s perfectly curated playlist blaring from the speakers that lined the aforementioned truck. Boone being louder than the aforementioned music, Dani and Lilly hollering when one of them loses whatever competitive thing they’re doing. Dex mixing up some concoction inside the house and insisting it’ll help with the hangover, even though you all know it won't, but damn, does it taste good. 
You and Tyler occupying yourselves around the fire, his hands on your hips, holding you close to him as you sway to the music. His lips at your neck, leaving small nips and kisses along your skin until you turn around to scowl at him. His hands slipping into the back pockets of your shorts. 
“You’re a bad dance partner.” 
“You’re even worse.” His hand wraps around yours to press to the front of his jeans, where he’s hard and straining against them. “Can’t focus on my moves when my girl’s causin’ such a distraction.”
You smile up at him, running your fingers along the outline of his dick. “Poor boy. Should your girl take you upstairs and fix this little problem?”
“Little?” His brows raise, giving you a look that makes you laugh at the amusement on his face. “Now we’re definitely going upstairs.” 
You’re laughing all the way up the stairs, Tyler grinning as he talks shit the entire way up, slapping your ass until it feels red and raw through your shorts. 
And when he has you naked and pressed to the mattress, your ass in the air, thighs coated in your own slick from him, bringing you right to the precipice of your orgasm, only to keep taking it away until you started whining and he gripped your hips and flipped you over. Pulling your hips up, his teeth biting into your ass cheek. 
The head of his cock runs through your folds, the wet noise that comes from him separating them to press at your entrance makes you whimper. 
When he pushes in slow, too fucking slow, your fingers dig into the quilt. Your legs shaking, your body wanting to pull away from the intrusion—no matter how stretched out you already are from his fingers and tongue, the burn from the stretch of his cock never compares to it. Always stretches you out until you feel too full, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 
Tyler presses a kiss at your tailbone, his cock almost fully inside of your fluttering pussy. “Still think it’s little, baby?”
And after you’re coated in sweat and your throat is hoarse and raw, your legs jelly, your pussy feeling swollen and dripping from the several orgasms Tyler fucked out of you—and the come he fucked into you; wrapping your legs around his hips so there was nowhere for either of you to go while he did so; your body is limp against his chest. His fingers running along your spine. 
You feel completely spent and sedated, the liquor aiding in the job of lulling your body completely. But Tyler is all smiles and wide awake—after all these years together, you still have no idea what makes a tornado wrangler tired. 
He’s always raring to go, and it’s both hot and frustrating at the same time. 
You groan when he moves your body gently off of his, making a quick trip downstairs. A glass of water in his hand seconds later, demanding you sit up and drink half, even through your protests. A hand rubbing at your back. 
“Good girl,” he says, sweetly kissing your cheek and putting the glass on the nightstand. He’ll ask you if you want to shower because the both of you are covered in sweat and come and you’ll only reply by pulling him back down in bed with your face pressed to his chest. 
His chuckle shakes your cheek when he shuts the lamp off, pulls the quilt over your shoulders, and presses a kiss atop your head. 
But best believe he pulls your ass into the shower when the sun rises. Your head pounding from the shots you and Lilly threw back and from the beers you drained. Tyler’s fingers are gentle as he washes your hair. Gentle as he washes your body. He presses a kiss on each of your shoulders when he washes your back.
That space between your legs still feeling swollen from last night's activities, but his fingers still find their way between them. His palm on the shower wall as he stands behind you and rubs your clit until you’re coming. 
Teeth, lips, and tongue at the back of your neck coaching you through it, “that’s my girl.” He’ll praise you like you’ve just wrangled your own kind of storm. A storm he caused. 
A storm that always helps your pounding headache just a little more than the eggs Dexter places on your plate when you make your way downstairs. 
“I think I’m goin’ sober for the resta’ the summer.” Boone groans between his palms. Palms that are stopping his drooping head from falling into his eggs.
“Lilly’s making flamin’ peppers tonight.” Dani grins from the head of the table, chewing on a piece of bacon. It has the reaction you all expect, Boone picking up his head, perking up, and feigning excitement. 
“Really?” 
You all laugh together, regardless of how much it hurts your temples. 
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“You’re supposed to be soaking up the heat, not staring, Owens.” 
You squint from the sun as you turn your head to him, the two of you lying out on the dock. Letting the sun dry you off from your swim in the water. Something that should be relaxing.
But Tyler clearly distracted himself by staring at you. 
“Can’t I do both?” He grins, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand.
“You’re gonna have the worst farmer's tan.”
“Worth it for the view.” He kisses you, his finger and thumb lightly pinching your chin. 
It doesn’t take long for his kiss to progress from a sweet peck to something more as his tongue licks into your mouth. With the way his thumb circles your nipple through your swimsuit, his hand moves down your torso to the top of your bottoms, easily slipping past them. 
“Tyler,” you warn through a breath when his finger runs along your folds. 
“What?” He smiles against your neck, “it’s just us.”
“Dani and Dexter are literally out on the water.”
“They’re tryna catch dinner. They’re far gone.” The pad of his finger runs against your clit in a slow circle. Making you gasp, your hips chasing the touch. 
“Boone,” you swallow. Try to be the level headed one here, “Lilly.” 
“Store.” He says it simply. Teeth nipping at your ear, “let me make my girl come.” His finger adds pressure to your clit, making you moan. “Please,” he whispers against your ear. 
And if this man made you a sane woman, you’d pull his hand away and make him take you inside. But sanity has no room around Tyler. Sanity didn’t send you into a tornado with him. Didn’t have you riding him in the front seat of his truck after afternoons of chasing, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.
No, being in love with Tyler Owens causes sanity to fly out the window. Made you throw caution to the wind. Made you chase that high. Made you ride it. 
Made you want and beg for more.
His love was soft and ever consuming. A gentleness that made up for the intensity of everything else. It’s why it was so easy for you to put your life in his hands every single day you went out into the storm.  
That’s why your legs bend and open for him, and why you let his fingers fuck you on the dock where you could easily get caught. His thumb rubbing your clit, your body burning, your pussy clenching and pulling his fingers in. 
“Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” He grunts in your ear as your hips move, fucking yourself down on his fingers when your orgasm gets closer and closer until you’re coming and his hand is in your hair, pulling your mouth to his so he can swallow your loud moan. Can hold you through the euphoric high that has your body shivering even with the sun shining down on it. 
His fingers slip from you wet and coated with your come. His eyes never leave yours when he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean before grinning, grabbing your jaw, and sharing the fruits of his labor. 
“Hey, lovebirds,” Lilly hollers as she slams the van door. “Come help us!” 
"Comin',” Tyler yells back, a smirk on his face as his eyes waggle at the double meaning. 
“You’re ridiculous.” You laugh, pushing at his chest as you stand and walk down the dock. Arms wrap around you, making you both waddle down the rest of the way. Tyler kissing your cheek. You can still feel his hardness against your ass—hardness that was just grinding itself against your hip. 
“I love you,” he says softly. 
“More?” 
“More than anything.” 
You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling. “Infinitely.” 
“Unbound.” 
When you two step off the last wood plank of the dock, you stop, both turning your heads to kiss each other. Your hand lifts to run your fingers through the back of his hair. 
"Oh, don’t worry, we got it, ya’ll!” Lilly says sarcastically from the porch. 
You smile against Tyler’s lips. “I love you. But let's go help before she refuses to share the good snacks with us.”
“Damn right, I will!” She yells as she shakes a box of said snacks in her arms. 
Tyler laughs and presses one last kiss on your lips before he untangles himself from you and runs over to the van. 
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“Ain’t no way!”
“Pick up the slack!”
“I’m doin’ my best here!” 
You and Tyler laugh as Dani and Boone argue as you both sink the white balls into their cups. Dani scowling as she downs her drink, and Boone raises his high with a frown as he does the same. 
When Boone misses and Dani gets one in their next turn, the way they cheer and high five warms something inside of you instead. Brings joy to the already loose buzzing that thumps through your veins from how many sips you’ve had tonight. Your cheeks are heated and hurting from all the laughing you’ve been doing. 
You grab the cup, ready to down its contents but Tyler puts his hand over the top, grabbing it from you and downing it in one gulp. Sending you a wink. Whispering in your ear when he leans over the table to put the now empty cup alongside the other ones, “I want to take you somewhere.” 
It’s all the explanation you need as to why he doesn’t want you too far gone. You hadn’t seen him drink anything tonight besides the few cups Dani and Boone—mostly Dani—landed their ball in. 
Some nights, he doesn’t drink at all.
Some nights he makes sure everyone goes to bed with something other than booze warming your stomachs—usually a frozen pizza he always burns at the bottom, or the infamous Ty Club Sandy, as Boone has deemed to call it. Filling you up until you are on the cusp of being sober and ready for your heads to hit your pillows. 
Tyler took his appointed mother hen role even further for the rest of the night until the aforementioned heads hit your pillows.
Sitting in the caravan with Boone for hours until he exhausted himself from talking about new ideas for the channel and one of his favorite subjects: pyrophilia. 
Or lounging on the couch and listening to Lilly and Dani talk about ways to make Kyro better, new elements to add for better views in the sky. 
Dexter always passes out before anyone, filling his gut and waving goodnight before disappearing down the hall.
Tyler making his way up to your bedroom after everyone had gone off to bed. Cleaning himself up and crawling under the sheets with you—having sent you up to bed hours ago with a pat on your ass and plans to be ready for him when he got up there, knowing full well you would fall asleep before an hour even passed.  
His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, face pressed into the back of your neck. The two of you drifting off to sleep. You take it upon yourself to keep his plans of being ready for him when you wake him up with your mouth wrapped around his cock. 
His hips pushing up into your mouth, languid and sporadic, until he’s fully woken up. His jaw tightens before falling open when he looks down at you and watches you circle your tongue around his tip. 
“Morning,” you’ll say with a smile and he’ll groan softly. Matching your smile with a grin of his own, that look of lust and desire morphs his beautiful features into something needy.
He’ll try to speak, try to say something sweet or filthy, but the words never come out. Just heavy pants and his teeth swelling up his bottom lip as he watches you—as he throws his head back against the pillow and groans.
When you pull him out of your mouth and straddle his hips, you reach behind you to guide him through your wetness, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Mouth twitching when you slide down on him slowly. When your own eyes flutter closed from the burning stretch. 
You ride him slowly, leaving marks along his neck and chest from your lips and nails digging into his skin when he tries to buck his hips up—fuck you harder. Set the pace that he craves so much when you are on top of him like this. A pace he adores, from how lost you become in pleasure, from your tits bouncing in his face, to how beautiful you look taking the reins. 
But you stop your movements each time you feel his hips move. The look he gives you is pitiful and needy.
“Fuck, baby.” 
You smile, lean down, and kiss his chin as you start to move your hips again, just as slowly. “I’m just tryna make up for last night.”
“You’re killin’ me.” 
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After the two of you have wiped the floor with Boone and Dani and they’re demanding Lilly and Dex go against them next because they know they’ll actually win this time; Tyler grabs your hand and walks you to his truck, opening the door for you to climb inside. 
“Is it safe for you to drive?”
“Would I put you in a situation where you weren’t safe?” He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it. 
You can always tell when he’s buzzed or drunk; his cheeks get flushed and his eyes squinting more than usual when he smiles or laughs. He’s sober. 
When you finally get to the spot, you turn to give Tyler a look. He’s all smiles as he drives through a field of tall grass, turning the wheel to back up his truck the rest of the way before coming to a stop once you reach a clearing that seems like nothing but marsh land. 
Until you’ve stepped out of the truck and walked around the back. Your eyes light up when you see a pond a little bigger than an EF3 filling the rest of the field. 
The moon and stars shine off the water, painting it in the darkest blue you’ve ever seen. Water lilies float along the top, with pickerelweed and cattails lining the edges. The crickets and lightning bugs add to the ambience of it all. 
“How did you find this?” You ask as he helps you climb up into the bed of the truck, where a blanket and pillows are already laid down. 
“Dex told me about it.” 
“You sap’s.” You say with a sweet smile, pulling him down to your lips. 
Tyler only further proves the sap allegations when he pulls out two of your favorite bags of snacks. His back leaned against the pillows, you leaning against him, his arms around you as you shared the salty and sweet treats. Your hand reaching back to feed him as you look up at the stars. 
“You’re so beautiful,” Tyler whispers against your lips when the snacks are gone, fingers licked clean, kisses pressed to lips, the mood changing until you’re naked and under him and his hips are thrusting slowly between your thighs. “So pretty,” he kisses you, runs his lips along your jaw, “perfect,” latch on the side of your neck, “my girl.” His words attenuated by his thrusts. 
His fingers are in your hair, at the back of your neck, and on your chest, playing with your nipples, squeezing a hand around them, and bringing his mouth to the pert bud. Teeth nipping at your collar bone, tongue licking between the space of your breasts, grunts against your ear. Fingers at your hip, against your clit—he’s everywhere. Consuming you. Pulling you apart, putting you together, slowly, gently, with a stroke, a touch, a kiss, a bite. 
Fucking you like it’s the first time. 
Fucking you like he has all the time in the world. 
Like he wants you to feel his love with every thrust. Every praise in your ear. 
Your fingers dig into his biceps, legs lifting and pressing against his sides, pushing him deeper inside you. Your breath heavy, your moans, sweet mewls, music to his ears. 
“Tyler,” you whimper against his shoulder. 
His arms bracket around your head, thrusts picking up when he feels your pussy tighten around his cock. “I know, baby.” His words are breathed into your ear, heavy and weak, letting you know he’s just as close. “Gonna come, you gonna take it like a good girl?” You nod, dig your nails into his back, reaching your peaks together. 
Tyler stays on top of you even after your breaths have evened out. His thumb runs along your cheek as he looks down at you. His smile is soft and filled with love. It makes your stomach flutter—something that hasn’t stopped since the day you met him. 
When he finally does pull out, neither of you move to right yourselves or head back. He covers you with another blanket he pulls from somewhere behind you. Your head against his chest as you look up at the sky. Tyler’s fingers playing with yours. A peaceful silence passes between you for what feels like forever, basking in each other. Listening to the bugs and frogs around the pond. 
“Marry me.” 
You chuckle softly, “your come hasn’t even dried inside me yet.” You joke. Don’t think twice about it; it hadn’t been the first time he had playfully asked you. Declared to the world that you would be his wife one day: in a tornado riding the high, saying he would make you his wife when you put your computer science degree to good use and ran better numbers than he could have come up with on his own. When you would have to travel home to visit family for a week and leave the crew behind, his arms squeezing you upon your return, saying the winds are dead, everything's dead when you’re not around, don’t leave again, marry me. 
So you don’t chalk it up to anything but that until you feel something cold slip onto your finger. Tyler brings your hand up so the moon is shining down on it, a pretty diamond twinkling in the moonlight. 
“Marry me.”
Your heart falling to the pit of your stomach as you rush to sit up. Your palm against your chest, your eyes wide, and staring down at your hand before whipping around to look at him. The smile on his face is to fucking die for. 
“Tyler.”
“Baby.” 
“Are you serious? Are you sure?” 
He laughs, reaches out for you, and pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been sure since the day I saw you.”
“That’s dramatic.” 
“Ask Boone,” he smiles. Stares down at the ring on your finger that you still have held up, “told him five months into us datin’ that I had a ring picked out.”
You chew on your bottom lip, try to hold back the tears that pool in your eyes. “That’s insane.” 
“If you want somethin’, you take it.” 
“You already got me.”
“And I ain’t ever letting go.” He grabs your hand, rubs his thumb against the ring on your finger. Looks at you with so much love that you think you could die from it and be just as happy as you are right now. “Will you marry me?” 
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more in your life. 
“Yes.”  
“Yes?” He asks as if he’s surprised, his smile and laugh filled with a childish joy and happiness. Like a child finally getting a gift he had always wished for.
“Yes!” 
He grabs your face, kissing you. Kissing you until you are both laughing and it’s all teeth and someone's crying, and you’re not sure if it’s him or you or who’s shaking or cheering. 
“I love you,” he says. You can feel his heart pumping against the palm on his chest. His palms are hot against your tear stained cheeks. Thumb swiping loose droplets away. 
“More?” 
“More than anything.” 
You can’t even finish your little rhyme before kissing him again. Whispering that you love him back against his lips. This man was going to be your husband. This man who has completely taken over your life and swirled it upside down since the first day you saw him. 
This man who has shown you a new world. Given you new meanings of life. Given you a love that puts storybooks to shame. Given you a family that will only grow if the two of you decide on it, but is already so perfect the way it is. 
You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone but Tyler Owens. 
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The next day, you obviously have to celebrate. 
The entire crew cheered and rushed you when the two of you had come home, and Tyler lifted your hand to the sky like you just won something. 
“Yes!”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!”
“That’s ma boy!”
“Bout time!”
Boone spins you, Lilly is already mapping out the perfect location for the nuptials, and Dani and Dex are hugging and clapping Tyler on the back. 
So the next day is one big celebratory day. 
Dex prepares a breakfast so large that you all groan and sprawl in the living room while watching movies you have all seen a dozen times, aiding in your hearty meal putting you to sleep. 
A nice nap that has you all waking up more rested than before and spending the rest of the afternoon out on the water. Tyler and Dex grill the fish you caught when you come home.
Your legs in Tyler’s lap, all of you sedated and full, and laughing around the table afterwards until Boone comes through the screen door with two bottles in his hand: tequila and whiskey. 
“Oh no,” Lilly says, laughing against her hand. 
“Absolutely not.”
“You never mix light and dark, comin’ Boone, you know this!”
"Guys, we’re celebratin’,” Boone ignores everyone’s protests and grabs the shot glasses he was keeping for safekeeping in his pockets, apparently. Filling them up with tequila when he asks the bride to be which she wants, a big smile on his face. 
He slides yours and Tyler’s over to you, Tyler shaking his head with amusement written all over his face when you frown playfully and say, “Happy wife, happy life?” 
He sighs and pinches your legs, teasing, and grabs the shot glass. “I’m not helpin’ you off the roof this time.” 
Boone makes a face, and everyone clinks their glasses together, throwing back the liquor.
It’s the first of many shots that has you hours later playing some kind of drinking game that you forget the rules of, which then leads into Boone and Tyler accusing you and Lilly of cheating. Which then leads to the four of you settling it by seeing who can shotgun a beer faster. 
“You got this!” Dani pat’s Lilly on the shoulder like a fighter about to get into the cage. 
Tyler smirks down at you, “you sure ‘bout this, baby?” 
“Don’t call me that. You’re the enemy!” You put your hands on your hips and step up to him. Staring up at him in the most intimidating way you can, even though he could throw you over his shoulder easily in seconds. Your voice low enough for only him to hear you say, “we both know I’m really good with my mouth.” 
His teeth sink into his bottom lip. “Won’t argue with you there.” His thumb comes up and runs against your jaw, “let’s make a bet, alright? You win, I’ll show you how good my mouth is, and if I win, you show me.” 
You smirk, “deal.” 
Once the beers are handed out and the bottoms have been punctured, your thumb presses against the slit, and a glare shot over at Tyler. His grin never leaves his face, even when Dex and Dani yell go, and all of you are putting the bottoms of your beers in your mouths. 
Your gaze locks on his the entire time. Your mouth almost slips when his hand comes up to hold your can to your mouth better, his fingers squeezing, making you swallow faster. Finish faster. You and Lilly cheering when you win. 
A win that Tyler clearly aided in. 
A win he was more than happy to give you. 
And if you didn’t love having his mouth on your pussy, you would probably fight harder against him letting you win. But it’s hard to be mad when later he’s between your thighs, fingers spreading your pussy to give him even more access to your throbbing clit. 
Your hips guide his mouth where you want it, where you need it, and how you want his tongue to move against your clit. How you want his lips to suction against you. Tyler always listening to your body. 
Your fingers are messing up his hair, “why did you let me win?” 
He smiles around your clit, “I think I won.” He bites your thigh before turning his attention back to the part of your body he is fucking his tongue against, eliciting whimpers and moans from your lungs. Your back arching up from the mattress. 
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Some nights are chiller than others. 
Some nights, you give your livers a break and hangout around the fire for hours. Dex telling stories, Dani and Lilly rolling Boone’s stash into tight blunts they share amongst those who want it. Boone lying in the grass, listening intently to Dex. You sat in Tyler’s lap, his fingers running along your legs. 
His fingers sometimes find the ring on yours, twisting it around. Making sure it’s still there. He smiles over at you and leans in for a kiss. 
The night is filled with a lot more laughs when three out of the six of you are baked and bring out the s’mores kit’s Lilly bought for each of you. 
“Six is a bit much.” 
“Uh, have you seen the way Boone eats?” 
“She’s got ya there.” Boone agrees as he tears into a burnt marshmallow on the stick in his hand. 
Tyler roasts you one, holds the stick while you happily eat the melted sugar. “Want some?” You ask, his answer comes in the form of placing his mouth over yours and kissing you until your mouth parts and his tongue runs along your bottom lip and into your mouth. 
“When you guys get married, will we see less of this?”
“More probably.”
“Less. They’ll have their own place by then.” 
“Ah, what? We won’t all be shackin’ up together?”
“Boone, they’ll be married.”
“They’re basically married now!” 
You laugh against Tyler’s lips, “ya’ll are losing your invites real fast.” He says turning towards them. 
“What did I do?” Dex asks innocently around a marshmallow. 
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Some nights, it gets so hot that not even the cold from the lake can be whipped through the windows by the breeze. The trees still. The humidity heavy and sticky, making you wake up with sweat glistening on your skin.
The two fans blowing towards the bed useless. 
“Tyler.” You whine softly as you push his arm from your midsection. Can’t stand to feel the warm heat of his chest pressing to your back, mixed with the humidity filling the room. 
“Baby,” he says groggily. Putting his arm back around  your waist and pulling you close again.
“You’re going to give me heatstroke. How are you not dying?” You groan, freeing yourself from his grip long enough to remove your tank top and shorts before he grabs you again. More awake now than before. 
“The fans are goin’,” he says softly into your neck.
“They’re useless.” 
He chuckles, “want to go jump in the lake?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He hums, kisses your shoulder, doesn’t care that your body is coated in a sheen of sweat as his lips move to your neck, his hand cupping your cheek. He turns your head back to his. “I can distract you,” he smirks. Hips moving against your ass, his dick hard. 
“You’ll only make it worse,” you breathe when he bites the skin just below your ear. 
“Ya sure?” His other hand slips between the two of you, pushing your panties to the side and pulling himself from his briefs. “I don’t gotta put it in, baby.” He positions his cock so it’s rubbing through your folds, his tip moving against your clit, making you moan into his mouth. 
Ass pushing back against him, “I can make you forget all ‘bout the heat and focus on coming along, my cock.” When the slide of his cock becomes more slick from your pussy growing wetter, he grunts against your mouth. “See, your body has already forgotten about it. It needs somethin’ else.” You whine, wrap your fingers around his wrist. Moan in his mouth, “what’s it need, baby?” The tip of his cock teases with the slightest pressure against your entrance, your body bracing, craving the stretch, only for him to take it again. “What do you need, baby?”
“You,” you breathe. Look at him with hooded eyes, chin wobbling. 
“Say it again,” he grunts.
“I need you, Tyler.” His mouth twitches when he slides inside of you, his eyes watching as your eyes close in ecstasy. Nails digging into his wrist from the stretch of his cock. 
“It’s all yours,” he kisses you. Says your name when he lets out that shaky groan when he’s bottomed out. When your body shudders while trying to adjust. His voice a mumble against your skin when he asks you if you’re ready for him to move, if you can take it, if you want to take it, knows you can take it. Be a good girl, and take what you want, what you need; it’s yours.
He’s yours.
Infinitely. 
Unbound.
Always.
His.
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lqvesoph · 11 months
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Baby Fever - LN4
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landonorris x fem!reader
summary: summer vacation with lando and his family, especially his little nieces have got you feeling a certain desire
warnings: a bit of kissing but apart from that just fluff
part two
masterlist | taglist
"Baby, look!", Lando called from a distance. You slowly opened your eyes and sat up, having laid spread out on a tanning bed, enjoying the warm spanish sun gracing your body.
Your boyfriend held his niece Mila in his arms, or better said, on his shoulders. The little girl let out squeaks of laughters, especially when Lando crouched down a little and stretched his legs again.
An unfamiliar feeling tugged at your heart and a warmth that definitely wasn’t from the sun spread inside of you.
Mila squealed a little. "You wanna get down?", Lando asked softly, and she nodded so he placed her gently on the yacht deck.
The little girl walked closer to the edge of the yacht, making Lando react quickly and snatch her into his arms again. "Heyyy careful, darling", he mumbled and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "Swim!", Mila called out and pointed to the ocean.
"Of course we can go swim but you need your floats", Lando genteel explained and stroke his fingers over her back. The little girl nodded and looked around for her mum. "Let’s go find your mummy to ask her where she put them last time", he said, sending you a quick smile before disappearing.
You couldn’t whipe the smile off your face even if you wanted to. Seeing the way Lando interacted with his niece made you incredibly soft.
Only a few minutes later Lando "ran" back to your side of the yacht with Mila chasing after him. One quick glance told you, he held her floats in his hands.
He fell to the floor when she caught him and lifted her on his torso, making the girl giggle loudly.
"Baby help!", Lando called out for you between laughters and you shook your head with a grin on your face but got up from the bed and crouched down next to the two of them.
"Tie-Tie", Mila giggle when she saw you, her nickname for you based on "Auntie" which she still struggled to pronounce so Tie-Tie it was.
"Hello, darling", you smiled and poked her side a little. "Want me to help you with your floats?" She nodded and held one of the pink floats out for you to take. With her still sitting on Lando’s torso you put on both of her floats before lifting her up and placing her on the deck. Together you walked over to the edge of the yacht but before you could safely enter the water with the little girl, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, body checking you into the ocean.
You let out a scream, trying to wriggle out of Lando’s arms underwater to catch some air. "I hate you!", you called, slapping your boyfriends’ shoulders before placing your hands on his shoulder and putting weight on them to dunk him into the water again.
From the boat you could hear Mila’s giggles while she was watching the two of you.
You swam closer again, motioning her that it’s safe to jump into your arms. "Come here. Close your eyes and jump", you encouraged the little girl and smiled when she did as you said.
Lando had swum closer to you in the meantime, wrapping an arm around your waist so you wouldn’t have to kick your feet as hard to hold yourself up. You placed one arm around Lando’s shoulders and leaned in for a second.
"I love watching you interact with her", you mumbled while both of you were watching Mila having fun in the water. Lando smiled and turned his head to you to press a short kiss on your lips.
You let your hand that wasn’t wrapped around him absently wander underneath the water until you felt his hard chest, from there on you traveled along his torso.
The deeper your hand went the shorter became Lando’s breaths. "Baby…", he muttered warningly. "Hm?", you asked, focus still on Mila. "I really love it when you’re feeling me up, don’t get me wrong, but maybe not when we have to watch my niece swimming in the ocean", he muttered and you quickly moved your hand. A surprised look grazed your face before you chuckled.
"I swear that wasn’t my intention", you laughed. "You know how comforting I find it to trace your body."
Lando crackled and placed a kiss on your lips.
"Hey watch the kid, dickhead. You can make out later!", you heard Max call and saw Pietra approaching behind him as well. Lando held up his middle finger as a response.
"Lando, darling! The food is ready!", his mum called before spotting the three of you in the ocean. "Well hurry up", she smiled nodding towards the rooms.
"Mila, honey, come on Grannie cooked!", Lando called and swam over to Mila to bring her back to the boat and lifted her out of the water.
You watched the two of them and swam closer to the boat as well. Lando was already sitting on the edge of the yacht and waited for you. Dopplets of water dripping down on his bare skin.
He gave you his hand to pull you up next to him. You pushed a few wet strands of his hair back and leaned in to give him a gentle kiss. Lando’s hands rested on top of your thighs and smiled into the kiss.
He laid his forehead against yours, still staying close to you.
"Come on, let’s go", he muttered, pulling you up to your feet and leading you to your room.
Dripping wet Lando stood in front of the small closet, trying to figure out what to wear. You moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his naked torso, putting your cheek against his shoulders.
"I love you with Mila", you mumbled. Lando chuckled. "You tell me that quite often, baby", he said, placing his hands over yours on his stomach. "It’s true. You’re perfect with her", you smiled, pressing a light kiss to his right shoulder.
Lando turned around and leaned down to you and gently started kissing your lips, his hands moving from your shoulders down to your waist and pulled you in closer.
He moved you back a little until the back of your knees hit the bed. "We shouldn’t-", you muttered but allowed Lando to put you on the bed. "I thought you said you like me with children", Lando smiled, moving down between your bikini covered breast.
You giggles softly and pushed your hands in his curls. "I do, I totally do", you sighed as he places gentle kisses to your skin. You tapped his back a few times. "Come on, get up. Your mum’s made food", you said, pushing yourself up on your elbows. "What? I thought we can practice a little?", Lando whined. You let out a laugh and pushed him off you to the other side of the bed.
You got up and quickly exchanged your wet bikini for a dry one, hearing a groan from Lando behind you.
"You can’t say we can’t have sex and then proceed to undress in front of me!", he complained, making grabby hands to signal you to come back to bed. You laughed and took his hands but instead of getting in the bed with him you pulled him up into a sitting position. "Get changed and maybe later", you smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips before throwing on your white sundress and leaving Lando to get changed.
Upstairs his family had already gathered around the table. Even Mila was faster at getting changed than Lando.
"Lando will be up in a second", you excused your boyfriend, only earning a joking eye roll from his older brother Oliver. "Don’t worry, we know what he’s like", Cisca chuckled and nodded to the two empty seats next to Pietra and Max.
After lunch you went back to the book you were reading prior to your little ocean trip. Lando’s head rested on your naked stomach, his arms around you and his eyes closed. You were sure he wasn’t actually sleeping and only relaxing a little as he’s been tracing your waist with his fingers.
A few minutes later, Mila waddled closer and tapped Lando’s back a few times. "Uncle Lan!", she called, making Lando open his eyes. "Let’s play!!"
Lando murmured something inaudible and snuggles closer into your stomach. You signaled Mila to climb on Lando’s legs.
Your boyfriend jokingly whined, lifting his niece up and turning around between your legs so his back was resting against your stomach.
Right then Sav walked out from downstairs, Athena in her arms. She immediately smiled when she saw the three of you.
"You look adorable!", she called out, walking closer to you. "Wait a second", Lando’s sister in law said before handing Lando his littlest niece.
He gently took her from Sav’s arms and crawled her safely into his arms. Mila was sitting between Lando’s legs, who sat between yours.
Savannah smiled and pulled out her phone quickly. "Let me take a picture of you”, she smiled, snapping a few pictures.
"My uterus can’t take this", you whined into Lando’s ear and pointed at the small baby girl in his arms and the other toddler in front of him. Lando broke out in a fit of laughter before turning his head to whisper something into your ear.
"Wanna practice?", Lando grinned smugly, causing you to hit his upper arm. "There are children around!", you hissed which made Lando only crackle.
part 2
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totalswag · 3 months
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fourth july — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note hope everyones being safe today and having a good time. this is kinda short but hope you lovies like it. summer time in the obx sounds looks so much fun. i don't think i've written about dad!rafe yet or maybe i have but either way, rafe is such a girl dad.
summary spending the summer day with friends and family by the pool, barbecuing, and lighting fireworks at night.
warnings swearing, happy moments, kissing, loud fireworks.
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Friends and family were surrounded in your backyard, in the pool, on the patio, with children running around and cooking. It's a lovely summer day in Kildare, where friends and family are gathering.
Today is the Fourth of July. Rafe and you agreed a few weeks ago that you would like to have everyone come to your house by eating, swimming, eating, and then watching fireworks at night.
You were at the shallow end of the pool with your seven-month-old daughter, Layla, her small hands clutching yours as she stamped against the water, making everyone around giggle.
Layla's tiny hands gripped your fingers tightly, her chubby legs kicking up water in all directions. The sheer joy on her face was a delight to see.
"She's a natural," Sarah said from her lounge chair, sipping a refreshing lemonade. "Already a little mermaid."
You smiled, her heart flooding with affection for her tiny girl. "She sure is," you said, adjusting Layla's sunhat to block the harsh sunlight.
Layla was surprised to see kids swimming and bouncing in the water. She drew her body towards the kids as you lifted her up beneath her armpits, drawing her towards them.
You're so cute
I wanna hold her
Layla do you like to water?
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Rafe stood nearby, engaged in conversation with Topper and Kelce. Layla had grown tired of the water and was now perched on Rafe's hip, her tiny fingers entwined with his gold chain. She babbled happily, occasionally tugging on the chain, making the guys laugh.
You were near all the snacks with your girlfriends chatting it up too.
The three were talking about typical guy stuff.
"She's got a good grip there," Kelce remarked, grinning.
"Yeah, you sure she won't rip it off?" Topper added.
"She knows what she likes," Rafe stated proudly, kissing Layla on the forehead. The sight of Rafe seamlessly mixing fatherhood with his typical friendship was wonderful.
Layla has always had this fascination with Rafe's chain the moment she was able to grab onto things. The main thing is the chain; Rafe has talked about getting her one with her name on it when she turns one in a few months.
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As the day progressed into the evening, everybody went from the pool to the front yard. Lawn chairs and blankets were put out in preparation for the fireworks display.
The kids were able to set up s'mores on the side while they sat on the blanket on the grass watching neighbors light their fireworks.
Layla is wrapped in a comfortable blanket and nestled in your arms. She looked at you with her beautiful blue eyes, babbling in baby talk; you responded back even though you dont like what she's saying.
Rafe approached Layla with a pair of baby headphones and carefully placed them over her ears. "We don't want her to be scared of the noise," he murmured quietly, his eyes finding yours with a loving expression.
Layla grins softly at Rafe, hiding her face in your chest when he playfully tickles under her chin.
The first firework launched into the sky, resulting in a shower of bright sparks. The audience cheered, their faces illuminated by the glow. Layla's eyes widened with surprise, yet she remained calm and secure in your grip.
Sarah had her phone out, taking pictures and videos. She caught Layla at the perfect moment, focused on the fireworks and occasionally making perplexed facial expressions in response to particular fireworks.
"Please send that to me as soon as you can," you laugh, pointing at Sarah. "Do not worry, I will send you everything," she says with a smile on her face.
A few minutes later, Rafe approaches you, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder, and kissing your cheek.
"I love you girls so much."
"And we love you so much, Handsome."
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my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
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kennahjune · 9 months
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Teen Dad
Quite surprised there’s not a lot of these AUs considering how much Steve apparently sleeps around but anywho.
Teen Dad Steve who finds out one of the girls he’d slept with pre-Nancy is pregnant and he damn well intends on helping out however he can.
Turns out; helping means taking his son (his SON) and having full custody because the mom, no matter how much she wants to be involved, can’t take care of him.
Steve’s alright for the first 6 months of little Louie Harrington’s life.
But then his parents come home and shit hits the fan.
Which— fair enough. He was only 17 and already had a whole ass son, they were gonna freak out.
But kicking him AND aforementioned son out? With no where to go? No money? Barely a job?
That’s just fucked up.
But Steve makes do, and lives out of his car for no more than a month before finally landing his hands on a cheap trailer in Forest Hills.
He and Louie move in and sure, it’s rough. But he’s got a nice paying job at the Diner and yeah maybe he has to skip some classes to get extra money but it’s fine. It pays his bills and rent and that’s all that really matters.
It’s fine.
And then the second wave of Upside Down fuckery hits, and Steve’s suddenly in the hospital with a grade 4 concussion (whatever that means) and his top priority is to make sure someone is with Louie.
Enter Claudia Henderson, Dustin’s mom.
She takes care of Louie for as long as Steve is in the hospital and then some when Steve can’t be left unsupervised in case his head worsens.
And that’s how the Party is introduced to little Louie (as they all call him).
Steve’s stunned to find out that Mike and Lucas are so good with little kids, but the two of them love stopping by the Henderson’s (and later on the trailer) to see little Louie and offer to babysit for him whenever.
The other kids take a little bit of time to warm up to Louie (and the fact that Steve’s actually a parent) but when they do Steve never ceases to have at least one of them over.
And with all the racket brings in the attention of nosy neighbors.
Steve is well accustomed to nosy neighbors. Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln next door to his parents were always looking to snitch on him for something or other.
But Miss Bottomette and her grandchildren Noah and Casey were sweethearts. Steve didn’t mind having them over for dinner or going over there. Miss Bottomette was the one to teach him how to actually put his cooking skills to work.
Linda and Tom, a newly married couple down the road, were quite eccentric but that’s what made them charming. Steve found their dog, Dasher, quite the sweetheart.
And even Mr. Knowles, the grouchy old man next door to Miss Bottomette, seemed to take a liking to Steve and Louie.
It wasn’t long before the story behind the new boy in 2718 New Bird Ave was revealed: Teen Dad Kicked Out.
Then the whole town knew. And while most people were nice about it, even supportive of how he had taken a step into his child’s life, there were always those people who sneered.
Steve ignored them, loving the life he was working on making for himself and Louie in the trailer park.
The only neighbors he never seemed to meet, despite the looming presence, were the Munsons, right across the street.
Steve knew about the Munsons. Well— he knew about Eddie Munson; drug dealer who was on his second run of senior year. Steve actually shared a few classes with him.
He’d yet to meet the mysterious Wayne Munson, but that was to be expected with work schedules.
And then Steve was graduating, and his parents didn’t show up.
But that was totally fine. Cause the kids, Claudia, Joyce— even Hopper with El— were there. They held up little baby Louie while Steve walked the stage.
He’d heard rumors of Eddie Munson having to retake senior year for a third time— but he didn’t dwell on it for too long. Because sure, he missed more than his fair share of classes and scraped by with a C+ average.
But he did it.
And then summer hit, Dustin left for camp, and the mall opened up.
Steve picked up a job at Scoops Ahoy, cutting back on his hours at the Diner but still staying there because the money was needed and the tips were lovely.
And he meets Robin Buckley, and actually talks to Eddie Munson every once in a while when he stops in with his band, and lets the kids sneak into the movies because he’ll be damned if he robs them of a normal summer.
And then Dustin comes back and their reunion is short-lived because Russians are hellbent on torching non-existent information out of Steve and he’s busy getting his third concussion and then there’s a fucking flesh monster and Billy and Hopper for protecting them and—
It’s not a good night.
But then he’s rushed to the hospital and he tries to call Miss Bottomette only for the call to refuse to go through and shitfuckgoddammit.
Because what about Louie?
Miss Bottomette said she’d be alright watching Louie until Steve got home, but Steve wasn’t able to go home until someone was able to make time to take him home.
Usually, he’d lean on Hopper for this stuff, since his parents were out of the question. But—
But Hoppers dead.
So he’s stuck at the hospital for another day or two until finally, Claudia comes to pick him up.
He’s with Dustin in the backseat of the car, anxiously bouncing his leg and biting at his fingers and nails until Dustin gives in and just holds his hand. Robin’s there to, having been able to leave after the first night but coming with Claudia to pick him up. Steve’s relieved to have them both close by, even if his hands reach for Erica subconsciously.
His trailer’s empty when he gets home, and Miss Bottomette isn’t answering the door.
Steve’s on the brink of a full blown breakdown before Mr. Knowles— bless his heart— points them across the street.
The Munsons apparently have his son and have for a bit now since Miss Bottomette had a minor seizure and couldn’t be left alone with Louie. Mr. Knowles assured Steve that she and the kids were fine and staying with him for the moment.
Steve wasted no time afterwards sprinting to the Munsons and knocking on the door. Dustin and Robin are close behind him, Claudia waiting patiently in the driveway.
The door is answered by a gruff looking old man that’s taller than Dustin but slightly shorter than both Robin and Steve.
“You Harrington?”
Steve nods so fast he faintly wonders if that’s how bobble heads feels.
They’re let in in no time and the old man— the infamous Wayne Munson— calls out of Eddie.
Eddie Munson emerges a moment later with little Louie in his arms, bouncing softly on his feet to keep the baby calm.
Steve is in front of him in a second, scooping Louie gently out of his arms and into his own.
He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Dustin’s rubbing his arms and Robin his back. Claudia is talking to Wayne, explaining what had happened (or the cover story version at least) and Eddie is hanging back a few feet from the three of them.
Robin takes little Louie in her arms and shoos Steve to the couch to calm down.
“Let him meet his auntie, Steve. You take a minute to breathe now, yeah?”
Steve was led to the couch with a soft hand on his shoulder from Eddie Munson, and they sat side by side while Steve worked on easing his breathing and to stop fucking crying.
Eddie’s shushing him and after a moment (and a clearly pointed cleared throat from Robin) Eddie wraps his arms around Steve’s shaking figure.
They leave the Munsons’ trailer is promises of new babysitters and a new friendship.
And then the fuckery that’s 1986 happens.
.
First Part:
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cheolism · 11 months
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✧ CAUGHT IN A TRAP
✧ choi seungcheol x f!reader ✧ summary: you ask your brother's best friend to tie the top to your swimsuit. he's convinced that you've lured him into a trap and acts accordingly. ✧ wc is approx 4.5k ✧ tags: brother's best friend-to-lovers?? close proximity ✧ warnings: mdni. mentions of groping and luring!! grinding, oral and fingering, dick-in-vagina sex, overstim. cheol's dirty mouth, pet names (princess, baby, good girl, etc). begging, slightly mean cheol. this is basically all tension and porn. possibly morally questionable cheol? lmk if you think any should be added. ✧ author's note: first fic in a month! i've begun and quit so many fics in the past few weeks and this is the first one i've been able to finish. so i'm satisfied!! this is just desperate porn. this takes place during the summer so it is very out of season lol
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"seungkwan," you call, opening your bedroom door just enough to peek out of it. you don't see your brother in the hall, so you call again; hopefully, he hasn't left for the lake already.
seungcheol appears before you can call for a third time. he's -- well. he's choi seungcheol and he's dressed for the lake, long trunks and a tank top that's somehow both too tight on his torso and just right, revealing his thick biceps and straining over his chest and making your eyes drop to trace the shape of them.
"seungkwan's already down at the dock," seungcheol answers, glancing at his phone. he looks back at you, lifting one of his thick brows at how you're poking only your head out. "everything okay?"
you can feel heat rush to your face. you refuse to look at his face, but then your eyes immediately drop back down to his chest and you can't look there because that would make you a huge creep, so you drop your gaze even further and it goes to his ankles.
"i need help," you mumble, "i can't tie the back of my top."
seungcheol's quiet and you refuse to look at him and repeat yourself. it's horrible. you think about him imagining you, the top of your swimsuit dangling around your shoulders and tits hanging out, and you slide the door shut just a little bit more.
"i'll just text seungkwan and tell him to come back up," you say, voice quiet with embarrassment. you shouldn't have even told seungcheol. he wasn't judging you out loud but seungcheol was -- he was perfect. he was the perfect man, the man you've dreamt about for as long as your brother's known him, and you're so overly aware of how you look to him -- of how he sees you as some silly little sibling to his dear friend, and you've just made yourself seem even more like a little kid.
"no need," seungcheol responds. his voice is deep, and you flick your eyes to watch him slide his phone into the pocket of his trunks. "i can tie it for you."
your eyes widen and your mouth drops a little. "no thanks!" you squeak, shutting the door entirely. "i'll just -- i'll just wear a shirt down!"
seungcheol laughs on the other side. he knocks against the door. "let me in, silly." he knocks again. "it's just tying a swimsuit."
right. it's just tying a swimsuit while you stand there, half-naked.
"no," you whine, "i'll really just --"
"let me tie your top." seungcheol's voice has taken on a more serious tone, the sort that he gets when he's trying to command a room.
you're quiet for half a minute, biting down on your lip and pressing your forehead against the door. it's just tying a swimsuit top, like seungcheol said; he just sees it as helping out his best friend's little sibling. but also, it's choi seungcheol, the man who inspires more crushes than he could ever be aware of, and you don't know if you can handle the mortification that comes with him seeing you like this.
but then, quietly, in the hopes that he'll miss it, you agree.
"let me in," he returns.
"just a second," and then you're moving from the door. you push your open suitcase behind the bed so he won't be able to see how your stripped underwear sits on top, and you kick your dirty clothes underneath the bed.
you reach behind you, grabbing the strings of your top and pulling them taut so your tits don't hang out. then you open the door, just a smidge. "hurry!"
seungcheol chuckles as you slam the door shut behind him. "it's just a swimsuit," he says, eyes twinkling. and he's so handsome, his dark hair hanging around his face and lips twisted in a smirk. it's so ridiculous, and you don't know why seungkwan ever introduced you to seungcheol because surely your brother knew you would end up like this.
(surely your brother knew that when he introduced you to seungcheol and mingyu and wonwoo but mainly seungcheol that in three years' time you would be standing with seungcheol in a bedroom in a lodge, turning so seungcheol could tie the strings to your top.
it was all seungkwan's fault.)
slowly, you turn your back to seungcheol. "quickly," you urge him. "we gotta hurry."
seungcheol scoffs at you. your body is so alert that you can practically feel every step he takes, that you can picture seungcheol crossing the room. when he grabs the strings of your top his fingertips skim along your back, and you can't help but jump.
"we're not going to get in trouble," seungcheol says, pulling the strings from your grasp. "we're both adults."
"can you imagine what seungkwan would say if he saw you leaving my bedroom when the door was closed," you hiss, bringing both of your hands to your front and crossing them over your chest. seungcheol's fingers slide against your shoulder blades and then he's beginning to tie your top, and you can feel every pull as he tightens them. every single movement seems to jostle your heart, seems to alert every single cell in your body to seungcheol's fingers. "forget kwannie -- can you imagine soonyoung? or jihoon? they'd tattle."
"they'd tattle," seungcheol laughs. "we're adults. if you're so worried we should've just left the door open."
"so someone can pass and look in to you tying my top?" you say, shaking your head. "no thanks."
the strings pull once more, and then seungcheol is tapping your shoulders. "finished."
"it's tight?" you say, turning over your shoulder to look at him. "it won't come undone?"
seungcheol tugs the knot he made. "nope. we'll have to cut you out."
you grin, turning to face seungcheol. "thanks."
"wasn't so hard now was it?" seungcheol smirked down at you, lifting one of his thick brows. you hate it when he looks at you like this -- hate it because a single lift of his brow sends a tingling rush through you, one that shoots straight down to your cunt and makes you feel electric. "you were worried over nothing."
it's then, watching as he lowers his eyebrow but that smirk remains, that you realize just how close the two of you are. seungcheol had stepped close to you so he could tie your top and hadn't moved away. that meant that when you turned around there was hardly two feet of space between you.
and fuck, when you became aware of it you became aware.
his wide shoulders, the way his skin -- lightly tanned by the sun, as if even the sun had a crush on seungcheol and couldn't bear to burn his skin red like it had jihoon -- tightened around his biceps when he raised his arms up above his head in a stretch.
as he stretched you couldn't help but let your gaze flick back over his body. you were ogling him like he was some prize but, horribly, you couldn't help it. you couldn't help but take in the sight of his pecs, of how his nipples poked through the fabric of his dark tank top. the slight curve of his tummy, how he hadn't tucked his tank top into his trunks, and how the shirt rose as he stretched, revealing just a sliver of skin.
his neck, wide and thick, and his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed and side, angling his face up towards the ceiling as he stretched.
seungcheol was like a flame, passion running through his veins. and like a moth, you couldn't help but reach.
you weren't even thinking. not a single thought was in your mind. it was as if your brain went offline, leaving nothing but your heart and the want that left little tingles in your cunt to command your body.
and you were reaching and placing your hand over his collarbone. his skin was smooth beneath your fingers, and you couldn't help but swipe your thumb over his skin, watching as your thumb moved.
then seungcheol's hand was shooting out and grabbing your wrist and your brain came online.
mortification shot through you. your brain began to go into overdrive as you gawked at seungcheol as if he had been the one to touch you unsolicited, as if he had been the one to press his hand to your skin and feel.
"i --" you began, a thousand thoughts shooting through your brain and yet not a single one leaving your lips. you can't speak. you can't because you just -- just groped choi seungcheol. "wait -- i --"
seungcheol cocks his head at you, brows lifting and you can feel -- despite the situation at hand -- more tingling in your pussy. "oh. i get it now."
"i-- get -- what?"
seungcheol grins at you, cherry blossom pink lips quirking. he moves closer to you, though there hasn't been that much space between the two of you to begin with and wasn't that where this entire problem started, so why was he getting closer?
"you were luring me in here," seungcheol announces, walking closer and closer and you begin backing up, straight into the wall opposite to the door. "i was just a passing fly you caught in your trap. is that right?"
your back hits the wall and you have nowhere to go. you're gawking up at seungcheol, feeling as if you were the fly in his trap. "what -- what are you talking about --"
"you wanted me to come in," seungcheol says, still grinning down at you. "you were pretending you needed your top tied. you were pretending so you could get me in your room, door shut. you were pretending so you could grope me."
your mouth fell open with an audible click. "i -- i didn't! seungcheol, i promise i didn't!"
seungcheol laughs at you meanly. he moves your hand, the one that, horribly, reached out and groped him, and presses it above your head and against the wall. he crowds closer, his other hand sliding along your jaw to cup your cheek. "you planned this."
"i didn't," you say, voice going quiet due to the lack of space between the two of you. "i was searching for seungkwan."
"you were," he mocks, and he's so mean. choi seungcheol is so mean. "you've got me in your little trap, baby. what are you gonna do with me?"
you wonder what the fuck he means. seungcheol's the one who's got you against the wall, he's the one with your wrist in his grasp.
seungcheol's eyes flick down. he's taking you in, you realize; he's admiring you.
"i've trapped you," you echo weakly.
seungcheol's eyes return to your face. "you have," he responds. "now what will you do with me?"
you lick your lips. your bottoms are soaked, you realize. you can feel their dampness, can feel the heat trapped between your thighs.
"i -- i've trapped you," you say, slowly, testing out each word. "i better -- i better use you, then."
"use me?" he says, cocking his head. seungcheol's eyes are sparkling, and you realize that he loves this. "how would you use me, baby? what would you do to me?"
your brain goes blank again. "uh. i'd -- i'd kiss you?"
"kiss me," he's grinning now as if you're amusing him. his thumb slides along your cheekbone. "is that it? you've got me in your hands for you to fuck around with and all you'd do is kiss me?"
"wanted to," you say. "i've wanted to kiss you for a while."
seungcheol's smile softens, and he's moving his hand from your cheek to press it next to your head on the wall. he's caging you in, and you're trapped between his arms, but you don't feel it. you don't feel like a trapped moth frantically looking for an escape.
shyly, you carry on. "i guess i'd -- if i had you, if i was going to use you -- i'd make you uh --"
"make me what?" he says, and he's enjoying it so much.
"you know."
"i don't," he says, brows raised. "you gotta tell me, baby. what do you want to do with me?"
you can't look at him. so you slide your gaze from his face and rest it on his collarbone. "i'd -- i'd sit on you."
"sit on me? that it?" seungcheol brings his face close, and his nose is against yours. "just sit on my lap? wouldn't do anything else? don't want to do anything else with me?"
you can't say it, so you shake your head.
seungcheol clicks his tongue. he trails his nose over your face, breath hot against your face. "okay. let me tell you what i'd do. if i had you in my trap i'd kiss you. kiss your cute little mouth, kiss your chin. kiss your throat, kiss your pretty tits. i'd kiss your tummy and i'd kiss your sweet little cunt -- i bet it's so pretty, princess. bet you have such a pretty little pussy."
you gasp, and his mouth is over your lips. he's not kissing you, but his lips are pressed to yours. you can feel them move as he speaks. "i'd have you take my cock," he carries on, each word sending heat and electricity to your pussy. "if i had you trapped i'd fuck you so good, baby."
you agree. you think of it, of seungcheol pressing his dick -- you just know he's big, know he's big and he'd feel so good around your cunt. you think of it and shift, feeling the wetness of your swimming bottoms.
"so?" he asks.
"so?"
seungcheol laughs at you. "would you let me trap you, baby? would you wander into my little trap and let me fuck you?"
"yes," you say, and it's the easiest thing you've ever said.
seungcheol kisses you. he immediately devours you, immediately traps you. seungcheol moves his mouth with intent, covering yours over and over and over, kissing you as if he had been wanting it, yearning for it.
you can't help but get lost in it--in him. his hands move from your wrists and to you, one of his hands sinking into your hair to guide you, his other going to wrap around your body and hold you close to him. he wants you, you think; wants you, wants you so desperately that he wants to mold your bodies into one.
your arms get trapped between your bodies, but you take the chance to press your hands against his chest and feel his body as he moves against you. it's not like you have the wits to do much else. with seungcheol's mouth devouring you, owning you, you can't do anything else than try and catch your breath between every eager press of your lips, can't do anything else than just stand there and let him take you.
seungcheol moves his tongue into your mouth, and that's when you break away. you gasp against him, trying to catch your breath, trying to focus. seungcheol moves on. he travels from your mouth, skimming his lips along your chin and jaw before going to your neck.
his hands move as his mouth does, and he's settling them on your hips and guiding them flush against his. you can feel his dick, can feel him as he mouths at your neck, never staying in one place, as if he would go crazy if he didn't press his mouth against every inch of you.
"seung--" you pant, your hands digging into the fabric of his tank top. he groans, a strangled noise against your skin. you try to speak again, but then he's skimming his teeth along your skin and you can't help but let out a high, keening whine.
he grins against your skin. "that's it, princess," he murmurs, "gotta me loud for me. gotta show me you really want it."
you groan, obedient, when he begins sucking at your neck. seungcheol works his mouth over you, sucking bruises into your skin.
"tell me," he commands, pressing his nose against your jaw, "tell me you want it."
"want it," you return, letting your head rest back against the wall. seungcheol moves his mouth back to your neck, and then he's running his lips along one of the strings of your swimming top, mouthing at it as if he was reminding you of how scantily clad you were. "want it, cheol, want you."
he hums. "tell me," he carries on, as if your words had no effect. "tell me you trapped me. tell me this was all part of your plan, baby."
you want to whine and protest, but then he's ducking his head and nipping at the exposed skin of your tits and you immediately give in. "it was," you whine, "i -- i trapped you, cheol. wanted you, want you so badly, cheol."
when seungcheol lifts his head, he's smirking. he presses you flat against the wall, mouth returning to the curve of your neck. seungcheol licks against your skin, drawing a noise from your mouth, just as he thrusts his leg between your thighs.
"too bad i caught onto your little plan, princess," he taunts. "i should turn around and walk out, shouldn't i? just leave you here in your room, all wet and desperate."
you whine, moving your hands against him. you run them over his pecs, over his shoulders. 
"don't," you beg, unable to keep your voice from going high in desperation. "please, seungcheol, please --"
"please what?"
"fuck me," you beg, wanton yearning seeking its talons into you. you wanted, wanted so desperately. he was all around you, surrounding you; you could feel the taste of him on your tongue, the feel of his skin beneath your hands. but it wasn't enough. you wanted him inside of you, wanted to feel him within. "please, please fuck me --"
"prove it to me, baby," he says. "prove it that you want me. show me. show me, precious."
he presses his knee up against you, shoving it underneath your cunt. "ride me," he commands, "ride my thigh, princess."
you immediately bare down on his thigh. you angle your hips so your clit is rubbing over his thigh through your bottoms, and the relief feels so good that you can't help but let your head fall back against the wall. seungcheol immediately takes advantage, pressing his face against your chest and mouthing at your tits, hands gripping your hips and guiding.
your nails sink into his skin. you fuck down onto his thigh, chasing that feeling that tugs at your cunt. it's as if you're mindless, as if you had been born just to fuck yourself against choi seungcheol's thigh.
and you ride him like that. ride him as if it was your one mission in life. your mouth falls open and he quickly covers it, licking into your mouth. "that's it, princess. gotta cum on me, gotta prove you want me."
"want you," you beg, "please, cheol. help me, want you so badly, cheol, please please --"
he curses. seungcheol pulls away from you completely, drawing a loud noise of disapproval from your mouth.
but then seungcheol's hands grip your hips, and then he's pulling you from the wall and spinning so he could push you back onto the bed. as soon as you fall he's on you, his mouth -- already red from the force of his passionate kisses -- covering your skin, frantically moving from the curve of your tits to your stomach to your bottoms.
seungcheol's hands go to your thighs and he's parting your legs. you don't even have a chance to get shy before he's mouthing at you through your swim bottoms, licking a broad stripe from your cunt to your clit.
your responding moan is loud, and you don't even have the presence of mind to try and cover it. seungcheol licks over your bottoms, pushing his tongue against them as if they weren't there at all. you're completely wet, you're soaked, it's as if you had gone down to the lake after all, but it's just from your cunt and you wonder if he's going to drown in it.
but you ride his face nonetheless; you move your hips as he works his mouth, chasing him, chasing that tongue of his. you can't help it. there's something desperate, something animalistic inside of you and it's taken over, and you can't help but wrap your thighs around his head and beg.
seungcheol slips his fingers into the bottoms, moving them aside. he uses his other hand to spread your pussy lips before he's latching onto your clit, sucking and sucking, and it's like something releases inside of you and you're cumming, thighs tight around his head and fingers twisting in the seats.
instead of giving you a moment to gather yourself seungcheol continues. he laps at your clit, laving his tongue over it, while he maneuvers his fingers against your hole. "be good for me," he says, breath hot against your cunt. "be good and prove to me that you want my dick, baby."
you nod, breathless, and he slides one of his fingers inside of your cunt. immediately you're clenching down on him, and he responds with a curse. seungcheol doesn't stop; he continues to lick at your cunt while feeds his fingers into your cunt, one at a time, spreading them out and preparing you for his cock.
you're electric. forget the moth and the flame. it's as if seungcheol's ignited something in you and you're buzzing with it. you just want more and more and more, and you don't even realize you're begging for it.
eventually, seungcheol pulls from your cunt. his face is soaked. he's smirking, though, and his eyes gleam as he pulls his tank top up and off. seungcheol lets you gawk at him, lets you look. and you really can't help but look.
you take in his pecs, his broad shoulders. his brown nipples and how they pebble in the cool air of your bedroom, his stomach. you can't help but be in awe of him, of the softness of his body and how it covers his strong muscles, and your cunt tightens around nothing.
seungcheol laughs at you, and then he's pulling your bottoms. you raise your hips off of the bed and let seungcheol pull them off and drop them onto the floor. he slips his fingers into the waistband of his trunks before they, too, drop to the floor.
he's beautiful, you think. he's completely bare before you, his dick large and straining, and he's absolutely beautiful.
seungcheol moves back onto the bed, slipping his hands underneath your thighs and moving them up. he presses them to your chest, and when he's close enough you can't help but thread your fingers through his hair and bring his face to yours. you kiss him, sliding your mouths together.
he grins against your mouth. seungcheol moves one of his hands, running it along your thigh before pressing his palm to your cunt. "you've trapped me, baby," he whispers, and then you feel his cock press against your pussy.
"please," you beg, fingers tightening around his blonde locks. "please cheol."
seungcheol guides his cockhead so it's against your entrance. but then he stops. he pauses, eyes flicking over your face. you can't help but feel frustrated; all of this playing and here he is, about to fuck you and stopping.
"seungcheol," you whine, wiggling against him in hopes he'll take mercy on you. "please, seungcheol. want you so badly, please, please!"
he hums. he's got a flush on his face, but he's trying to appear unaffected. "i don't know, baby. don't know if you really want it."
you let out a sob. in the future maybe you'll look back on this movement with shame. in the present, however, you feel tears spring to your eyes and you tighten your grip on his hair, bringing his head down so you can press desperate kisses to his face.
"please," you sob, pressing a kiss against his mouth. "please, cheolie. i -- i want you so bad, want you to fuck me, please, please --"
when he finally slides in he does it all at once. seungcheol fucks his cock into you in one swift movement, sheathing himself to the hilt inside of your cunt. you can't help but cry out, back arching and fingers digging into his shoulders.
it hurts, faintly. it's not an acute pain, but instead a dull ache of your cunt stretching around his cock. it goes away rather quickly, and then you're bucking your hips up against him.
"good girl," he whispers, and then he's withdrawing. he draws back until just the tip of his cock is at your entrance, and you can't help but be on edge -- every single neuron and electron in your body is on fucking edge, waiting, anticipating --
and then he fucks back into you, his balls slapping against your cunt. you let out a loud moan, uncaring of the noise. he does it again, drawing his hips out quickly and sheathing himself in a hurried movement. seungcheol fucks you deeply, quickly, and harshly.
he fucks you like a man depraved, like a man desperate. as if he had admired you all this time just as you had him.
every thrust drives you up the bed, every thrust making his balls slap against your pussy, each thrust accompanied by the loud slaps of skin and skin and the wet squelches from your cunt. you'll be sore in a matter of hours but you don't care. you don't care, not when he's fucking you so deeply and fitting so perfectly inside.
"good girl," he chants, slipping his hands behind your knees and keeping your thighs against your chest. he uses his grip on your body to angle himself, and the next time he thrusts into your cunt he's hitting that gummy core inside of you that makes your lips curl and your eyes squeeze shut.
"pretty girl," he carries on, thrusts punishing. "pretty girl with her pretty cunt, so fucking wet 'n warm, so fucking good for me, made just for me --"
"for you," you echo, a loud, ugly sob coming out. "you, cheol -- yours, you -- for you, for you --"
seungcheol curses, and then he's cumming inside of you. his cum is hot and there's so much, and he fucks into your cunt, fucks his cum into your pussy until his dick is soft and he's wincing.
seungcheol moves. his dick slips out of you but before you can miss it, before you can miss him, he's returning to your pussy. seungcheol slaps his hand against your cunt once, and then he's thrusting his fingers against your clit harshly, rhythmically.
"such a good girl," he growls, thick brows furrowed. "good fucking good, taking me so good -- good girl, pretty girl. all mine, all fucking mine."
he slaps your cunt again and you cum, and it's like a thunderous wave has plunged over you. you can't hear or see, and you don't know if you're even breathing. but you're cumming and cumming and cumming, and his hand is working furiously at your clit and you don't know if you'll ever stop cumming.
seungcheol is still moving his fingers against your clit when you come to. he's moving them slowly, softly, guiding you back down from that high. his large eyes are taking you in as if he's trying to memorize how you look before him.
you meet his eyes; you smile.
and then he grins so brightly that you just know.
he's got you in his trap.
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sourlove · 5 months
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Omg the jock is so cute I was wondering if maybe we could get a scenario thing we're maybe reader and jock are at a diner on a hot summer night just chilling idk how you want to interpret that but I love your writing so far ♥️
TW: YANDERE THEMES BUT NOT REALLY SHOWN. LUCAS IS A GOOD BOY
A/N: I immediately thought of like a small town in the 50s or 60s when I read this lol.
READ LUCAS' HEADCANONS HERE
Thanks for the ask!
The heatwave that settled over the town had everyone abandoning their houses in favor of hanging out at the lake or starting up their barbeques. You, on the other hand, were heading to a date with a certain someone that evening.
"Y/N! Y/N! Over here!"
You had barely even stepped into the diner when you were swept into a bear hug. You didn't even have to guess who it was, by the way your feet completely stopped touching the ground.
"Hi Lucas," you said wearily. The star football player grinned at you, eyes bright from beneath shaggy, golden curls. You snorted and ruffled his hair. "You doofus, didn't I tell you to get a haircut after practice today?"
Lucas pouted. "I wanted to get here before you did. Look, I got us a booth! You said you like booths so I got us one!"
"Yes, I can see that. Thank you, Lucas." You sighed as he dragged you to a seat at the back of the diner, where the crowd was thinner. Lucas squished himself next to you, instead of opposite, rendering the booth pointless. You didn't mind anyway, as you were used to Lucas doing this.
"What can I get you lovebirds today?" the waitress asked, giving the two of you a grin. You smiled back at her. She had always been kind to you and had on more than one occasion, smacked Lucas with a newspaper for trying to makeout with you in the diner. She playfully glared at him and he stuck his tongue out at her, hugging you closer.
"Hey, Donna. Can we just get two milkshakes and some fries?" You asked, ignoring the way Lucas buried his head in your neck.
"Sure thing, hon." Donna walked away to place your order and you patted your boyfriends head gently. Honestly, it was too hot for his shenanigans. You let him stay like that for a while, though. As much as you refused to say it out loud, sometimes you really enjoyed being smothered by Lucas. It was comforting, like a heavy weighted blanket draped on top of you.
Lucas sighed happily as you combed a hand through his curls. "I thought you said you like when my hair gets long? I was growing it out for you."
"I love your hair, short or long, baby," you said. "But not when it gets in your eyes. If you fumble on the field again, I think Coach is gonna get his scissors and hunt you down to cut it himself."
"You love me?" Unfortunately, everything else you just said was obsolete to this boy. "You mean that, don't you?"
"Of course she does," Donna chimed in, holding a tray of your food. "There has to be a reason she would put up with you slobbering all over her."
"Thanks, Donna. Um-there's only one milkshake?" you questioned.
"Yeah, and two straws." She winked at Lucas. "Enjoy!"
Lucas beamed and immediately stuck the straws into the frothy drink, looking at you with such hopeful eyes, you couldn't do anything but sigh and lean forward to drink. You had to admit, the cold drink was just what you needed to stave of some of the heat of the day. Your eyes fluttered close as you savored the sweet taste.
When you opened them, Lucas's big brown eyes stared back at you.
"What is it this time, Lucas?" you asked with a huff.
"You're just so pretty." He smiled sweetly, the big dope. "I like looking at you."
You and you smacked his arm, though it hurt you more than it probably hurt him. "You're such a sap."
"A sap for you, honeybun~"
"I said don't call me that in public!"
"But whyyyy?"
You stuffed fries into his mouth to shut him up, giggling at his puffed out cheeks. He begged you for more and you rolled your eyes but relented. Sometimes saying no to Lucas was like kicking a puppy, there was no logical reason to. You could practically see his tail wagging as he ate greasy diner fries form your hand, licking your fingers clean.
"Let's go home," he whispered softly when all the fries were gone. The look in his eyes was so intense you grew flustered. Lucas grinned and tossed a few bills on the table, pulling you out of the booth.
You called out a hasty goodbye to Donna and she smiled at the both of you from behind the counter. There was something odd about that boy and the way he looked at you. But then again, who was she too stand in the way of young love?
The night hadn't gotten much cooler, but there was a little breeze stirring up the heat. The smell of grilled meat and distant laughter told that people were still enjoying their evening. You would have to swing by to your neighbor's house later. He always saved leftovers from his barbeque for you and Lucas.
Lucas held your hand tightly as usual. He didn't seem to be in a rush like he was on other nights. "What's on your mind?" you asked, swinging your hands back and forth.
"You."
Shocker. You laughed and shook your head in disbelief. "I can't always be on your mind, dummy." He glanced at you in confusion.
"Why not? You're the best thing that ever happened to me!"
You stopped walking and stared at him. He tilted his head, the action making his curls fall into his eyes again. "What's wrong, honeybun?"
The stupid nickname, the shaggy hair, the dumb, sweet smiles. Everything about Lucas that you once thought was annoying, now made you smile about your boyfriend. This was bad.
He yelped when you suddenly dragged him down by his collar to mash your mouths together but soon reciprocated the kiss happily. When you released him, his face was flushed with another stupid grin plastered over it.
"What was that for? Not that I'm complaining!"
"Nothing," you hummed, linking your fingers again. You would have to get the leftovers later, it seemed. You had plans for your boyfriend that night. "Nothing at all, baby~"
FIND ALL MY WORKS HERE
A/N: Everyone seems to love Lucas! And I don't blame you, he's the sweetest boy. Thanks for the support! If you enjoyed this, leave a like, comment and reblog. My asks are open though I might not reply to them immediately, I will try to reply to all.
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Text
the violence of the dog days.
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pairing: jeongguk x reader
summary: In the midst of summertime, after a week of neglect, your boyfriend has a way of making you feel even more heated.
OR
you're hot and horny for jeongguk.
rating: mature🔞 (minors please dni)
genre: non-idol au, college au, established relationship, smut, fluff, pwp
word count: 9.2k words of unadulterated smut.
warnings: reader and jeongguk are absolute horny simps for each other, but they're also so inlove, soft boyfriend jeongguk (because yes that is a warning), jeongguk is a law student (oof), overuse of the petname 'baby', reader hasn't been getting it seven days a week😔, switch jeongguk (kinda), hair pulling, hickeys, making out, thigh riding, nipple play (jeongguk is proudly a boob guy), religious imagery because jeongguk worships reader like a god, usage of the words 'c*nt' and 'p*ssy' (because i know some people are iffy about that), cunnilingus (f-receiving), jeongguk is low-key a sadist y'all (in his fantasies), a bit of dom/sub dynamics, prayers for reader because jeongguk's got that big d🙏🏽, unprotected sex, doggy style, degradation, a teeny weeny bit of overstimulation, creampie - like this is just pure smut guys 😬, possessive sex, choking, aftercare, reader kinda hints at having attachment issues (but don't we all).
author's note: 1. please ignore any typos :). of course, i'd appreciate any feedback or constructive criticism. but if you find yourself uncomfortable by any of the themes in this fic, there's no need for hate, just kindly move on. 2. also, this is a lot longer and softer than i intended. this fic was supposed to be purely hard smut, but i fell in love with the characters and their relationship, and some aspects of the story just turned out sickeningly sweet - so proceed with caution.
You're an hour into tossing and turning when you can't take it anymore.
The heat.
With June coming to a close end, the surviving remnants of summer creep in through your bedroom window with barely a whisper of a breeze. It clings to every part of your skin, that ever-lingering humidity thickening the air, and wraps itself around your body like a cloak. For some reason, you thought that scrolling aimlessly through the various apps on your phone would help distract your mind from the muggy weather or maybe, by some miracle, even lull you to sleep.
But it hasn’t—of course it hasn't. Because summer is here to stay, burrowing deep within your bones and making a home there. Each passing minute is a testament to that, insomnia creeping up your spine with ill intent and wriggling into every cranny of your mind until you feel like you're losing it.
Perhaps you are, you think.
Because when the desk fan a few feet away suddenly stops whirring and the fumbling grasp you had on sleep slips from your reach like a fleeting dream in the morning light as a result of it—drifting further and further away—you hit your breaking point. The lack of white noise and cool air blowing your way mounts your frustration into place. It hangs there in the ether like a looming shadow but, unlike your slumber, has no plans of deserting you.
With an annoyed huff, you drop your phone back onto the nightstand for the umpteenth time and kick your leg out from under the duvet.
“Fuck.” You sigh, rolling onto your back.
A thin sheen of sweat lingers on the surface of your skin, causing the sheets to stick uncomfortably to every part of your body. You spread your limbs out like a starfish in some futile attempt to cool them down, hoping that you'll catch a draft, but the action only reminds you of how largely cavernous your bed feels right now.
The space beside you is missing a particular doe-eyed boy and, as your hand brushes over the empty spot, you realize that it's not so much the seasonal heat that's making you feel weirdly restless, but rather Jeongguk's absence. In an inconveniently clingy way, you need his body settled next to you at night, your legs and arms a tangled mess beneath the blankets.
You don't know why that is. Why sleep eludes you like a compass without direction, unable to find its way to you when Jeongguk isn't near. But you don't mull over it or give the thought a foothold to stand amongst the endless anxieties already in your head.
All you know is that cuddling up with him in the evening is perhaps one of your favourite pastimes. Akin to a baby with it's bottle, falling asleep in his embrace is something you've grown incredibly used to, maybe even a little dependent on—like a security blanket or night-light—and there's nothing you can do about it.
Sneaking a glance towards the dim light spilling in from beneath the bedroom door, you picture Jeongguk on the other side. Chances are, he’s still where you last left him. Sitting cross-legged on the couch with a laptop balancing carefully on his lap, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, as he catches up on coursework.
You worry your lip, the thought of your boyfriend causing your mind to wander...
He looked so good tonight; adorned in a pair of grey sweats and a baggy t-shirt with his tattoos fully exposed. His dark hair was strewn across his forehead, falling into his eyes in a way that made your fingers itch.
You, on the other hand, are sporting an old, oversized shirt you opted to steal from Jeongguk's wardrobe to combat the high temperatures, but it hasn't helped much. The heat still loiters, creeping up the back of your neck and imbuing your cheeks with warmth.
It makes you long for winter, for the bitter nip of frosty ice and pelting rain, and the desire for that inadvertently reminds you of that fucking silver lip ring Jeongguk had gotten recently.
The memory of its cold, metal sting against your lips as he kissed you goodnight sends a distant, carnal hum coursing throughout your veins. It's probably tugged anxiously between his teeth right now whilst he types away, eyes deadset on the screen before him, and the image of that sends you reeling. Makes your skin flush further, yearning to feel its steel bite again.
For some reason, it propels you into motion, skin prickling as you throw your legs over the edge of the mattress without a second thought.
The last thing you want to do is bother his progress or interrupt his work, but selfishly, you persist. That gnawing feeling deep within your chest is too hard to ignore, heart beating voraciously with each step you take because it longs to be satiated by Jeongguk's presence. Your boyfriend is only one room over, just four thin walls separating the two of you, yet still—you miss him, want him.
Treading lightly, you hear the persistent click-clack of his keyboard and the muffled sound of typing only grows louder as you step out into the hallway. The wooden flooring is frigid beneath your feet, a sensation you immediately relish in as soon as the fiery crawl of discomfort across your skin begins to lessen. Your shirt—or more precisely, Jeongguk’s shirt—falls flat from your waist, landing a few inches above your knees, as you wander further into the apartment.
Just as you’d predicted, Jeongguk is all pretzelled up on the sofa, too focused on his work to hear you enter. A few empty bottles of soju and convenience store snacks litter the coffee table, serving as silent witnesses to the length of time he's been out here. He must have dimmed the lights as well because a faint, warm glow shrouds every facet of the room, making him look particularly soft at this hour.
You walk up behind him, wrapping your arms around the length of his shoulders as you bend over the couch's headrest to envelop him in a hug. ”Hey,” You hum softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Jeongguk startles slightly at the contact, shaken from his deep concentration as he angles his head to look up at you. “Shit, baby. You scared me.” He breathes, voice rough from disuse. It rumbles through you like a distant thunderstorm, body vibrating with electricity.
“Sorry,” You murmur, glancing at the assignment he's been working on and tiny pangs of guilt gradually trickle into your stomach. “I didn't mean to disturb you, but-”
“You're not disturbing me.” Jeongguk instantly reassures, scanning your face with a knowing look. “Can’t sleep?” He asks and you nod, burying your face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his body wash immediately encompasses you like a warm embrace, wild pinewood and bergamot invading your senses.
“I thought you’d be in bed by now.” You mumble against his skin, unable to hide the pout in your voice.
Jeongguk frowns, eyes flickering to the time at the bottom of his laptop screen.
Shit, he hadn’t even noticed how late it’s gotten, the hours skulking along the cusp of a new day. He should probably be turning in for the night, head to bed and worry about this project tomorrow, but he’d rather not postpone his responsibilities. Not when you’re staying over the weekend and he could be spending that time with you instead.
“I know.” Jeongguk responds, hand coming up to intertwine with yours. “I’ll be there soon, okay?” He promises, bringing your knuckles to his lips. The featherlight kiss he presses there soothes you like a curative balm.
“Okay,” You relent, untangling yourself from his body. “But, can I stay here for a bit? It’s too hot in there.” You half lie, gesturing towards the bedroom while simultaneously walking over to the kitchen only a few feet away.
“Yeah, of course.” He murmurs, eyes following your movements.
“Thanks, Kook.” You smile, sparing him a glance over your shoulder as your eyes sparkle with mirth. “By the way, your fan broke down again.”
“Again?” He laments, eyebrows furrowed together whilst he runs a disgruntled hand through his hair. “I seriously need to get that old thing repaired or maybe even replaced.” He grumbles to himself, before a guilty afterthought occurs at the sight of you. “Fuck, I'm so sorry, baby. No wonder you couldn't sleep.”
You don't tell him that it's not so much the heat keeping you awake but, more so, him.
“No, don't worry about it.” You settle on instead, trying to dispel his concerns. “It's not your fault.”
This isn't the first time that Jeongguk’s fan has given him problems. He's had the thing since high school; so it’s no surprise that the motor tends to give in every now and then, running a little too hot. He’s been meaning to get the issue sorted, but hasn’t really found the time to do that these days.
“Plus, I'd much rather be out here with you.” You add.
Jeongguk smiles at you so sweetly then, dimples making an appearance, and your body flushes all over, burning once again.
God, what is wrong with you tonight?
You need to calm down, cool down. At this rate, you feel like an overheating engine, bound to crash in on yourself and combust.
Grabbing a glass of ice water from the fridge dispenser, you rein yourself in, distracting your mind with conversation. “I promise not to be a bother though, like you won't even notice I'm here.” You say, before chugging the cold liquid down on the spot, completely ignorant to the way that Jeongguk drinks you in.
A welcome sight is what you are, so cute tonight with your hair all mussed, practically drowning in his shirt. “You’re never a bother.” He responds, mouth going dry when you lean back to empty the glass. The action causes your shirt to hike up, the creamy expanse of your thighs further exposed to his hungry eyes.
He feels his dick stir at the sight.
“How much longer do you think you’ll be?” You ask, wiping your lips with the back of your palm, as you place your cup in the sink and shuffle over towards your boyfriend.
“Uhh…” Jeongguk clears his throat, broken out of his stupor. He turns back to face his laptop, skimming the Word document that's open before him when he feels you nestle into his side a second later. Automatically, he brings a hand down to rest against your leg.
“I’m not sure,” He grumbles, thumb rubbing soothing circles against your bare thigh. The absent-minded touch ignites something in you, skin blazing at the contact, and you try your best to suppress the goosebumps that rise in Jeongguk’s wake. “Maybe another hour or so?” He guesses.
“Oh.” You mumble and, although you fight the disappointed curl of your lips, Jeongguk doesn’t miss the deflated look on your face.
“I’m sorry,” He squeezes your thigh apologetically, frown overtaking his pretty features. “I know it’s been a while since we spent time together.”
A week exactly, you note, but ultimately keep that detail to yourself. After all, neither one of you is to blame for being so busy, constantly caught between work and university.
You think that's maybe the reason you're feeling so needy tonight, body set ablaze by every minor look and touch from your boyfriend. In a way, you're feeling a little neglected since your relationship’s taken the backseat, not by choice but by consequence, and you don’t know how to deal with it.
“It's fine.” You shrug. "It's not like we can help it.”
You try to be nonchalant about the matter, injecting the slightest hint of indifference into your tone, but Jeongguk sees right through you.
He always does.
“Come here.” He says suddenly, voice soft as he shifts his laptop onto the coffee table.
You look up at him, confusion clear on your face.
“What?” You blink, but your question falls on deaf ears because Jeongguk merely uncrosses his legs and pats his lap.
“Come here,” He then repeats and reaches for your waist.
You're uncertain for the briefest of moments, eyeing Jeongguk suspiciously, before you ultimately give in like malleable clay in his soft hands, allowing him to pull you onto his lap with ease. “I've been working for hours.” He grumps once you're comfortably straddling his waist, hands resting on either side of your hips. “Hardly seen you since you got here.”
You hum, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth in thought. It's no secret that you've been spending a lot more time at Jeongguk's place in lieu of your ratty little dorm room. You felt bad about it at first, feeling as though you were invading his space and overstaying your welcome. But your boyfriend couldn't be happier about it. He rather likes the idea of your lives interlocking, melding together as if they were puzzle pieces falling into place. He likes that when he's working, like on nights like this, that you're just on the opposite side of the door, not one phone call or car ride away.
He likes that you're his and he is, equally as much, yours.
“I wanted to leave you to your work.” You explain, curling your arms around his neck. Your fingers absentmindedly play with the ends of his hair that have grown out and the light touch only brings about the memory of how much he has missed you these past few days.
“Well, it's about time I take a break, don't you think?” Jeongguk muses and you become hyper-aware of the way his fingers brush up your spine. “Give my girl some attention…” He trails on, eyes flickering to your lips.
You practically preen at the idea, smiling shyly as you lean into his touch. “I wouldn't object to that.” Your heart patters in your chest, beating wildly at the mere sight of Jeongguk. At the thought of him finally touching you, kissing you, quenching your thirst after this week-long drought. “I've missed you.”
Jeongguk chuckles faintly. “Me too, baby.” He murmurs, perching his head upwards to press his lips against yours.
The kiss is gentle, chaste, his plush lips feeling so featherlight against yours. You almost imagine they were never there to begin with because Jeongguk pulls away before you can truly savour the taste of them.
“You know, you look so pretty in my clothes.” He begins, large hand spreading lazily around your left hip and up your back. “Kinda makes me want to wreck you.”
“You already wreck me.” You breathe without missing a beat.
“Yeah?” Jeongguk rasps, his voice low and a little dark. It sends a thrill straight up your spine.
You nod in response, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. “No one makes me feel the way you do.” You admit, eyes flitting across his face. It's an unwavering truth—one that simultaneously scares and excites you in this quiet dead of night.
“Can I kiss you again?” The words come out as a breathy whisper; as if you've been holding on to them for too long, as if they're the oxygen you so desperately need to breathe, and Jeongguk tilts his head, bewildered frown on his face.
“How is that even a question.” He gripes, slanting his head in a means to meet your mouth halfway, but you have another idea.
You press into him instead, leaning forward, and set out to peck lovingly along the curvature of Jeongguk’s jawline. He huffs in amusement, endeared by the way you take control. Because, although he’s usually the dominant one in the bedroom, he doesn't mind when you take charge like this. In fact, he's grown to love it. Loves the way you come into your own, toying and teasing with him, until your own actions cause you to grow desperate.
It's one of his greater weaknesses, his Achilles heel, and right now, you want nothing more than to expose it. Unveil a certain side of him. The one that'll see how far you can push before he starts to push back. The one that'll give in and take you right here on this couch after he's entertained your antics for long enough and you finally beg him to fuck you.
Your body practically hums at the thought.
You map out his skin, lips brushing against the surface like you're exploring a new land. Every movement careful, every touch claiming what's yours. And it almost goes to your head—how quickly Jeongguk submits to your mouth’s assault, his body relaxing into the couch like he's letting you have your way with him.
Jeongguk doesn't tell you that he is. That your lips are a holy grail he'd happily yield to.
When your teeth graze lightly at a particular soft spot below his ear, he lets out a small groan, eyes falling closed at the sensation. You feel the sound roll through you, the ache between your legs becoming hard to ignore when you think about the fact that you've roused that melody from his mouth.
It spurs you on, makes you want to hear it again and again. You want to paint the entire column of his neck red and then watch your confession of love fade to a bruised purple in the weeks to come. You want to rediscover all the ways that you can make Jeongguk sing, and the way your body dances to his tune in turn. Your lips lap him up, kisses becoming indelicate with desperation, teeth nipping with intent along his upper jaw, tongue tracing over the skin before you repeat all these gestures twicefold.
You can feel yourself growing wet, relish in the way that Jeongguk's hands tighten around your form. “Shit,” He mumbles and your body crows. Without pause, you shift against his lap and move to the neglected side of his neck, targeting the skin there. You can feel him getting hard beneath you, your core situated right above his growing erection, and it causes a shiver to run down your spine.
You plant a few messy kisses against his throat, nibbling vehemently, but then Jeongguk tuts and pries his eyes open before you have the opportunity to really sink your teeth into him.
“Baby,” He warns, curling a hand into your hair to form a makeshift ponytail. “No marks. I've got a presentation on Monday.” He says and pulls you back by an inch. His movements are somewhat hesitant, voice rough, like he's not entirely sure he truly wants you to stop.
But he has to. He can't afford to show up to class on Monday and present the most important project of his life with hickeys all over his neck.
“Next time.” He promises, but you consider outright ignoring him for a second, even though it's nonsensical, like some twisted form of punishment for a week of neglect.
But it’s Jeongguk—Jeongguk who’s been extra stressed lately about completing his degree. Jeongguk who’s carving time out of working on his big assignment right now—one which, not only counts forty percent of his grade, but could also earn him an internship at one of the top law firms in Seoul if he's lucky enough—all to pay special attention to you.
So, “Fine.” You give in, albeit a little petulantly, and brace your hands against his chest, face feeling flushed. “I’m sorry. I just wanna be close to you is all.”
“I know. Me too.” He rasps, grip on your hair loosening a touch, but not completely. “We don't have to stop though, just don't mark me up.” He explains, free hand rubbing up and down your thigh.
“Okay,” You slide your palms up his chest, feeling the toned muscles tense beneath your touch. “I really love you, you know?”
Jeongguk's eyes soften, a hint of a smile creeping up on his face. “I know,” He hums, tugging at your hair in a way that makes your scalp tingle. “But I don't think it comes close to how much I love you.” He rasps, using his grip as leverage to pull your head backwards until the delicate skin of your throat is exposed. “It's incomparable.” He murmurs, placing a single kiss on the side of your mouth before he travels south, lips peppering across your jawline.
You shiver, hands twisting into the thick material of Jeongguk's t-shirt. You want to tell him that it's not a competition, that you'd love him until the sun stops rising and, even if this one week of distance had been more, you know that he feels the same.
But the heavy palpitations in your chest causes the words to dissolve on your tongue because Jeongguk pulls the collar of your shirt to the side a second later, exposing more of your skin, before he traces a path along your décolletage. He's touching you like a starved man, mouth just as desperate and feverish as you’re starting to feel.
A stuttered gasp escapes your lips, your hands moving upwards, unsure of where to be, when he nips at a particularly sensitive spot. You settle them on his shoulders.
“Jeongguk,” You moan, the tingling between your legs maturing into an unbearable ache.
“I know, baby.” He abruptly pulls away from your clavicle—lips red, eyes blown. “Tell me what you want.”
His demand goes over your head because you don't know what you want; can barely think straight with the lingering feeling of Jeongguk's lips on your neck. With the growing wetness sticking uncomfortably to your panties. With the burning, hot embers laying at the base of your stomach, begging to be set ablaze. And Jeongguk knows that. Knows that you're neither here nor there, only somewhere in the middle, teetering on the line of endless choices. So he lets go of your hair then, manoeuvres your body until you're straddling only his left thigh.
“Don't think about it, baby.” He murmurs, both hands moving to your hips. He guides them back and forth, slow and gentle, with just enough pressure to relieve that desperate throbbing in your pussy. “Just feel.”
And you do, sinking into your own little bubble, a paradise as impenetrable as the gates of heaven. You take your time to grind up against him, moving in tandem with the flow of his hands and a soft whimper climbs up your throat at the sensation of your clit brushing against the firm muscles of Jeongguk’s thigh. You're already so soaked, underwear absolutely sodden from the relentless pendular motions of your pelvis, and when you look down to find a dark, damp spot beginning to stain Jeongguk's sweatpants, you can't help but intensify your movements.
It should be embarrassing, how quickly you've become turned on, how much you're dripping, when Jeongguk's barely touched you, but instead you just feel liberated. Pure power coursing through your veins because your boyfriend has given you the reins, is letting you use his body like a bitch in heat, and it's exhilarating; intoxicating every facet of your mind.
“That's it,” Jeongguk purrs, deserting your hips once you gain momentum to instead sneak both hands up the hem of your shirt.
Your breath escapes its chambers when he trails past the soft curve of your waist and straight to your breasts. “Fuck, you're so beautiful.” He grunts, gaze intent on your every reaction, like he's watching artwork unfold. His nimble fingers circle your nipples, tracing them with the most tantalizing pattern, until they begin to harden.
“Please,” You choke, clasping his shirt in between your fists like it's some sort of lifeline. You're not even sure what you're begging for, pace quickening as you ride Jeongguk’s thigh more aggressively. Every rut forward sends sparks shooting throughout your body, nerve endings alight, and when Jeongguk pinches your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your back arches in pleasure. A throaty moan penetrates the room otherwise filled with nothing but your uneven pants and the sound of Jeongguk's voice.
“Gonna make you feel so good,” He groans, hands inching towards your shirt’s lower seam. He drags it over your torso, itching for better access to your breasts. Even in your muddled state, you meet him halfway, raising your arms above your head until the damned thing is off and you're left in nothing but your lacy underwear.
You hardly have time to adjust to the humid air hitting your torso, when Jeongguk tips his head forward, enveloping your right nipple into his mouth with reckless abandon. The response is instantaneous, a strangled sob slipping past your lips at the feeling of his warm mouth encased around your stiffened peak. His tongue swipes across your nipple, shockwaves manifesting at the blissful contact, and you don't know how much longer you're going to last—an embarrassing feat you don’t ponder on too much.
Instead, you squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the attention Jeongguk pays you. Whimpering when the pads of his fingers move to fondle the nipple of your forsaken breast while the other submits to his mouth’s pleasurable torment, each purposeful pinch causing them to tighten all the more. Your skin feels like it's on fire, the warmth of Jeongguk's touch igniting the cinders glowing from deep within your belly. “I-I think,” You swallow, your pussy rubbing deliciously into Jeongguk's leg. “I think I'm going to come soon,” You manage to admit through a repressed whine, voice so strained it sounds foreign even to your own ears.
You don't think you've ever hit an orgasm this quickly. You've never had to. Because you and Jeongguk are like inseparable magnets; every atom in your bodies drawn to each other, always connecting like two poles seeking the other out—never going more than a few days without some form of intimacy. Never mind a week.
At least, not until now.
So when Jeongguk bounces his leg upwards to meet the force of your pussy coming down on his quadricep, adding to the way you slam into him, your clit positively throbbing at the impact, you feel the onset of that familiar coil in your stomach tightening.
“Just let go, baby.” Jeongguk rasps, granting you permission with one final flick of your nipples and then you're coming undone, white fiery heat flooding every fiber of your body, as you cry out his name. Only his name, forever on your lips. You feel the way your entire form convulses, the way Jeongguk helps you through it, flexing his thigh so that you can get the most out of your orgasm, and your hips buck forward—unrelenting and greedy—before they finally ease into a slow rut. Grinding into him until the receding, minuscule waves of pleasure begin to fade.
With the last few clenches of your pulsating core, you slowly catch your breath, muscles slackening as you become pliant in Jeongguk's arms, the weight of your body suddenly too much for you to bear. Your boyfriend holds you tight though, both hands moving to your waist to keep you secure.
Behind the darkness of your closed eyelids; you hear Jeongguk softly murmur your name and feel the way his hand comes up to your face, tucking a few stray strands of hair behind your ear before he cups your cheeks. “You okay, angel?” He asks, voice emerging as a hushed tone.
When you manage to tear your eyes open and give him a soft, affirmative nod, Jeongguk seems satisfied, pressing a delicate kiss to your sternum before he shifts you from his lap and onto your back in one fell, but gentle swoop.
Your head hits the soft leather of the sofa with the aftermath of your climax still lingering against your skin like crackling electricity, fuzzing up your mind. “You think you can take more?” He asks, eyes flitting across your face to get a read on your current state of mind.
You nod your head assuredly, reaching out to make a grab for his body, to bring him closer. “Yeah I can,” You say confidently, arm's snaking up his back to explore the taut muscles that reside there.
Jeongguk is hovering over your body, thigh pressed hotly between your legs, and even though you can feel the rush of arousal, brought on only a second ago, pooling uncomfortably in your underwear—you want more. You want him. “I want to carry on.”
Jeongguk studies your demeanour, casting your body and expression a careful once-over, because he wants to feel you, be in you, wants to make you see stars. But it's only a matter of whether you're able to handle that right now. He has barely had his way with you, but you already look so fucked out, so perfect for him. It makes the blood rush straight to his dick. “You make me crazy.” He rasps, eyes locking with yours as he brings a hand up, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.
You almost cower beneath his touch, beneath the sincerity of his gaze; appraising the very depths of your being as if you were a delicate treasure, as if he were staring at a god or something of a divine beauty.
Jeongguk thinks that maybe he is; thinks you’re the light, the one thing he’d worship morning, noon and night through blind faith. And there are barely enough words in the dictionary for him to express this notion to you, so instead he settles for “I love you.” Voice as rough as the high tides, but softer than moonlight.
He feels compelled to tell you this every chance he gets, a hopeless slave to his feelings for you. “Like I've never loved anything else in my life.” He continues. It's a quiet confession in the night, not a new one, but the words mean just as much as the first time he admitted them to you.
You feel yourself melt, can't remember ever feeling this cherished. Not since before Jeongguk and hopefully, never after. “I love you too.” You murmur, taking a moment to drink in every detail of the man who has left you restless all night.
Your eyes flicker over the defined cut of his jaw. The delicate curve of his lips and the pretty mole resting just beneath it. The small kissable scar on his cheek. The feathery flutter of his eyelashes. The strands of hair that have fallen over his face, and you retract your hand from his back to push them away.
How did you ever get this lucky?
“So much.” You emphasize and your voice thickens with the weight of your words, spoken from the very depths of your soul. “More than you could ever know.” Because there aren't enough words in the dictionary to get this notion across, so instead you lift your head, planting a firm kiss to Jeongguk’s lips as if sealing a vow, a promise of forever.
Jeongguk receives your kiss like he does with everything else related to you; openly, hungrily. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip—once—twice—and you instantly become pliant under his weight. Your fingers find his hair, tangling into the dark tresses as you deepen the kiss. It’s hot and it’s heavy, and in the distant part of your mind, you register that Jeongguk tastes like peaches, most likely from the alcohol he’s been drinking.
The sweetness of his lips immediately goes to your head; drunk and euphoric, and all grace flies out the window the next second. “Touch me,” You murmur breathlessly against his mouth, fingertips skimming over the nape of his neck. “Please, I need you.”
Jeongguk groans, a husky sound resonating from deep within his throat. “Fuck,” You can feel how rock hard he’s gotten, his erection pressing into your inner thigh and it's making you delirious with need. “I’ll give you anything you want.” Jeongguk rumbles, his mouth forming a wet, messy trek away from yours to embrace the flesh of your breasts.
You want to tell him that it's him, only him you want. Puppeteering your every move, body relinquishing itself to his touch. But you don't. You can't, not when Jeongguk's teeth leave scarlet marks across your chest that render you mute, words evaporating on your tongue like sacramental bread.
“My pretty baby,” He coos tenderly and you fight the urge to rut up against him. “Always so fucking ready for me.“ He praises, kisses traveling southward and it burns, searing, everywhere that Jeongguk touches you. You think you might erupt or shatter, and nothing less, if he doesn't meet you where you really need him to, your cunt begging to be satiated with his fingers, or his tongue, or his dick—anything.
A whimper escapes your lips, an embarrassing, desperate sound hanging in the thick air, as you glance down past your heaving breasts. You watch as Jeongguk abandons your boobs, planting a trail of kisses across the expanse of your stomach, your hip bones—takes the tiny little ribbon on your underwear between his teeth and tugs. The deliberate gesture causes your panty to rise up a bit, ever so slightly brushing against your clit in the process, and you bite down on your bottom lip, holding back an ungodly moan.
You can't take it anymore, all this teasing.
Jeongguk can read it on your face; sees it in the way you swiftly tilt your head back, eyes closed, brows scrunched together. He knows you like the back of his hand, which is how he gauges that you've fallen back into a place of submission—done with the tortuous foreplay, done with calling the shots, done with delaying the inevitable. You want him to fuck you, to use your body the same way you had used his mere minutes ago. And if his dick could get any harder at the thought, it would.
Jeongguk licks his lips, slips a finger into the curve of your waistband as he murmurs, “I’m gonna take this off now, okay?”
You nod your head, not daring to open your eyes to confront the image of Jeongguk's face a mere hair's breadth away from your cunt. It's too erotic. Too much. You feel him drag the thin garment down your legs, a string of arousal following suit, and suddenly feel self-conscious, attempting to close your legs to hide how shamefully wet you are.
But Jeongguk's not having any of that.
He carelessly chucks the lacy material to the side like it’s nothing but a rag, a nuisance, and then grips your inner thigh. “Don't you dare,” He grunts, using his grasp to keep your legs apart, lifting them upwards until your knees are bent to your chest and your ankles are resting over his shoulders, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt.
You barely have time to register the ticklish feeling of Jeongguk's breath fanning against your core before he dives straight in, licking a long stripe across your pussy, and your hips instinctively buck up. “Shit,” You mewl, rejoicing in the way his tongue traverses from your slit to your clit, lapping up every drop of arousal.
Jeongguk groans, a sound so low, stemming from the heart of his diaphragm, when he samples that first morsel of your leaking nectar. You taste like heaven, so sweet and unbearably wet, and all just for him.
“So fucking good,” He grumbles, mouth drinking you in. His tongue is unrelenting in its efforts to devour your pussy, and the overwhelming sensation of him slurping and sucking—of him eating you out like a connoisseur tasting the rarest of delicacies—causes frenzied pools of pleasure to ripple within the base of your belly.
He keeps at it, nose brushing against your clit as a byproduct, and after a few minutes the pure, unwavering rapture of Jeongguk's tongue becomes excruciating. A feeling so good, it’s almost too much. “Jeongguk,” You wail, heels digging into the couch as you try to back away from his mouth, but your boyfriend merely hooks his arms around your legs and pulls you closer. Holding you in place; unable to run or escape from the ruthless onslaught of his tongue, from the metal bite of his piercing brushing against your lower lips. “I can't,” You cry, writhing beneath his touch.
With his grip keeping you firmly anchored, Jeongguk brings one hand down to toy with your swollen clit, fingers moving in languid, clockwise motions. “You can,” He grunts thickly, tongue slipping between your folds and prodding deliciously at your hole. “I know you can, baby.” He mumbles in between fucking your drenched pussy with his fleshy muscle.
You shake your head frantically, eyes screwed shut, as you feel the waves of your second orgasm surfacing. “Not like this,” You beg, using your hands to reach down, fingers twisting into his fluffy hair as you desperately try to push him away. “Please, I want you in me.” A sob runs free, your walls pulsating around nothing because Jeongguk is taking his time with you, teasing your opening like he's got all night. But you don't. You're close, so fucking close, you can feel it in the tightening muscles of your pelvis, in the quivering of your legs.
But Jeongguk isn't giving you enough. He isn't giving you what you need. Your boyfriend, in all his hot glory, is taking you there with his tongue, swirling insufferably along your orifice—bringing you right up to the edge of the plank with an ocean of pleasure waiting just below your feet, but then he pulls you back. Drags you from the precipice before you can allow yourself to fall in, and it causes a frustrated whine to escape your lips. You need his cock deep inside, filling you up, pushing you off the ledge and into troubled waters. Your pussy throbs at the very thought. “Please Kook,” You find yourself beseeching for the second time. “I wanna cum with you in me.”
And any thread of composure Jeongguk has been holding on to up until that point, snaps at the pure neediness burrowed within your tone.
He looks up at you; lips glistening, eyes dilated—a mess of a man. But you don't look any better—or, if you were getting a glimpse of yourself through Jeongguk's point of view, never better—skin flushed, gleaming with a fine film of sweat, lips swollen from the way you've been biting them, and all at once, Jeongguk is overcome with the desire to give you everything you've ever wanted.
“Fuck, okay,” He curses, rising to his knees and you force your eyes open at the rough edge tainting his voice, at the overwhelming relief of getting what you wished for. “But it’s going to be a bit of a stretch, baby.” He says, not having prepped you fully. It's been a while since the two of you have had sex and, if he had it his way, he would have given you his fingers first, would have warmed and widened your lubricated walls, to ease the initial discomfort of him entering you.
But you look so pretty beneath him, so impatient, and—“I can handle it,” You mollify, voice a sweet concoction of sultry persuasion.
He nods in response, a curt motion, because if he thinks about how eager you're being, about how you're willing to take a little bit of the pain for the insurmountable pleasure, he might just come right there. Might just think of all the other ways you like to hurt; of the way you'd react if his palm made rough contact with your ass cheeks, or what would happen if he handcuffed you to his bedpost and stuffed you full with a vibrator and butt plug—if he fucked you tonight with no end in sight. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg him for more or want him to stop, sopping and spent. More than that, he wants so badly to find out.
Jeongguk’s dark eyes find yours, their typical doe-eyed demeanour having turned hooded a long time ago. Yours are twinkling with anticipation, watching intently as he pulls his sweatpants down, letting them hang low beneath his buttocks. His cock immediately springs free, slapping against his stomach, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the sight.
“Come here,” Jeongguk's voice carries a jagged intonation, raw and untamed, and breaks through you like crashing waves. But when he makes a grab for your body, his hands are nothing but gentle, hoisting you up onto your knees and positioning you on all fours.
With your ass bared before him, face pressed into the cold faux leather of the couch, Jeongguk smooths a hand down your back, watches with satisfaction as your spine yields before his touch, and then he takes a hold of his dick. Doesn't even bother giving it a few preliminary pumps because he's already painfully hard, precum leaking from the tip as he lines himself with your hole.
He doesn't put it in though.
First, he teases your little cunt with only the head of his length, not fully embedding himself within your warmth just yet. You whimper pathetically at the testing prod, fingers balling into frustrated fists, while Jeongguk watches in awe as your entrance narrows, pleading to be stuffed.
“God, look at you.” Jeongguk groans, eyes traveling from your glistening pussy to the state of your overall servile form.
He places one hand on your hip, fingers digging into the skin there, as he inches just the slightest bit forward, his dick slowly pushing into you. Your mouth parts at the sensation and you shakily prop yourself up onto your elbows, head falling forward with a moan. “So fucking needy, huh.” He goads when you attempt to meet him in the middle, subtly backing up against his pelvis.
“No,” You shake your head as if it's some sort of lie, as if you haven't been thinking about this moment since you stepped over the doorsill of Jeongguk’s apartment earlier. And your boyfriend laughs—he actually laughs—a maniacal, derisive sound that rings in your ears.
“There's no need to deny it, baby.” He drawls like smooth liquor hitting the back of your throat, a silky succour that, for some reason, has you dumbly nodding along. Because Jeongguk’s entering you more now, his dick fighting against the tight restraint of your heat, and you're too distracted by the feeling of it to fully comprehend what he's saying.
“I mean,” He continues, reaching down between your legs to gather the wetness clinging to your folds before he bends over your back, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “You’d think you've never been fucked a day in your life.” He murmurs, bringing his slick fingers to your level of sight.
You flush instantly, burning at the way your arousal dwells on Jeongguk's digits and forms a translucent web when he parts them into a V shape. “I can't help it,” You breathe shamefully, about to protest that it's his fault for letting you go so long without attention, for not taking care of your sexual needs and making you this susceptible to moments of depravity, when Jeongguk fully entrenches himself into your heat without so much as a warning.
“Aah,” Your jaw slackens at the sudden stretch of his length against your walls, the sensation so unfairly delicious you find yourself clenching around the intrusion with a gasp, and your boyfriend uses the opportunity to stuff his letch-laiden fingers into your mouth.
“Clean them.” He grunts, lazily rocking forward and you choke back a moan, mouth instantly closing around his fingers. Head full of clouds, pussy filled to the brim, you obey. Your tongue licks up the juices stuck to his slim digits, gliding sensually across each one with care, and you vaguely hear Jeongguk curse below his breath, hips grinding into your core. “Fuck, just like that, angel.” He praises, allowing you to suck them clean for a few more seconds before he pulls them from your lips altogether with a lewd pop.
“Such a good girl,” He murmurs lovingly, pressing a singular kiss to your shoulder blade before he straightens to his full height behind you. “Always so perfect for me.”
Jeongguk's hands find your ass again and he gives the supple flesh a few gentle squeezes, savouring the way you whine in response.
“Please,” Your words come out embarrassingly broken and wretched, heart hammering in your chest with want, as you peek at Jeongguk over your shoulder. “Please, no more teasing. Just fuck me.”
“What do you think I'm doing?” Jeongguk asks, eyebrow raised, voice harbouring a hue of cockiness. He withdraws his thick length from your warm embrace at an agonizingly slow rate before thrusting right back in, repeating the motion steadily. “I'm fucking you right now, aren't I?”
You want to cry, your need to come so severe, it's starting to physically hurt.
Your fingers leave deep indents in the couch as you tackle the burning coals of frustration setting every inch of your body on fire. “M-More,” You stammer, feeling a pearl of arousal trickle down your thigh. You're so turned on right now, your mind an empty haze as Jeongguk edges you into oblivion, cunt so wet, you can barely feel the brush of his shaft against your walls anymore. “I need more.”
Jeongguk grins, feels the crown of his cock brush against a particular soft spot, and then decides to give you what you want. Because he loves it when you beg, when you become a blubbering mess beneath him, so cock-hungry, you forget yourself.
Without a moment's pause, Jeongguk pounds into you with unbridled vigour. His hips slap against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, and your body jerks forward at the impact. Your core is so drenched he's able to enter you with little resistance now. Emitting a rough, throaty groan, he fixates on how your creamy arousal coats his cock, disappearing in and out of your cunt.
“F-Fuck,” You hiss, your hand reaching back to firmly grip Jeongguk’s wrist for support, but he takes advantage of your extended arm and yanks you up until your back is pressed to his chest.
The new position gives him better access to your front and Jeongguk ghosts a hand around your waist without a second thought, smooths it down your stomach until he reaches your clit. Your body jolts the instant his fingers make contact with the swollen bud, legs quivering with the strength it's taking you to stay upright.
Your boyfriend notices your struggle and hooks his other arm around your waist, his fingertips holding you so tightly you won't be surprised if some bruises appear there tomorrow.
“Fuck, I've missed this.” He rasps, more to himself than you, whilst drilling against your g-spot. But the words affect you just the same as your pussy tightens in response, squeezing him into a death grip, and Jeongguk's hips stutter. “Jesus,” He groans, making a mental effort to stave off his own orgasm, trying to focus solely on you.
You really are going to be the death of him.
He breathes heavily through his nostrils before starting up again, slowly driving into you and his cock burrows so deep, you swear you can feel it in your uterus.
His fingers skim over your clit, tracing the nub ever so slightly because you're starting to flinch from his touch, starting to grow sensitive. And when your head falls back against his shoulder, a choked whine forcing its way out your throat, Jeongguk knows that you're close.
“You gonna come for me?” Jeongguk's lips brush against your temple, his hand deserting your pussy in sympathy to knead your breasts instead. You feel his thumb run over your nipple, static lightning steamrolling across your skin with each sweep.
“I-ah!” You can barely form a coherent sentence, the inklings of even one lucid thought slipping from your empty, fucked out mind as Jeongguk slams into you. He's setting a brutal pace, the noise of skin-against-skin undeniably obscene, but you can hardly find the will to care when the muscles in your abdomen begin to tense. They twist up like a clockwork toy, winding and winding, until Jeongguk hits a particular spot that makes your toes curl, and then you're coming undone for the second time tonight, knees buckling with the sheer force of your orgasm.
It hits you like a freight train, your body spasming. White dots of euphoria blur your vision, the pleasure so blinding, and Jeongguk's hold around your midsection is the only reason you don't collapse right there onto the couch.
“That's it, baby.” He reveres, hips never ceasing their movements even as your walls contract sporadically, determined to fuck you through it. An uncannily pornstar moan spills from your lips, mind and body having finally plunged into the silvery, stormy torrents of your climax, and the strangled sound causes something impossibly primal to rupture within Jeongguk. It thrashes at his chest like a wild caged animal, demanding release, and he recognizes the feeling all too well.
“You're mine, right? ” He finds himself grunting, voice husky with strain. The hand that was attending to your boobs instinctively ascends to your throat, squeezing slightly as he chases his own high, gives in to that grueling streak of possessiveness that only every rears its head when he has you like this—naked and vulnerable—and you groan at the familiar pressure.
You hum, walls clenching around him. “Only yours.” Your own hand reaches up, cuffing around his wrist for support as a tremor runs down your spine.
Jeongguk feels his balls tighten, the knowledge that he’s the sole witness to this side of you, so subservient and docile, sets him off the deep end.
Then you angle your head to the side, joining your lips with his. It's a messy, sloppy kiss, but the intimacy of it all causes Jeongguk's last bit of composure to crack.
He spills into you with a groan, the sound muffled by your mouth, as he rocks forward until every last drop of his seed is snug within your warmth.
The feeling of his cum bursting inside of you, length twitching, causes your pussy to flutter by reflex, milking Jeongguk of every ounce of cum, only suspending their contractions once he's thoroughly depleted.
By the end, you're both a heaving mess; chests rising and falling in unison as you come down, the electric current pulsing through your bodies fading into a comfortable hum.
Your skin is still buzzing, head befuddled, when Jeongguk presses a few lazy kisses across your shoulder—as if to ground you, to bring you back from the constellations he's painted behind your eyes.
“You were so good, baby.” He commends, smoothing the hair at the side of your profile and you can't help the soft, but dopey smile that breaks out onto your face then.
“I've been dreaming about that for forever.” You murmur, submitting to the assault of his lips. Your boyfriend chuckles in return, nuzzling your neck as he commits the smell of your skin, an alluring scent of sex and lavender, to his memory.
“Me too,” He hums, thumb gliding gently across the contour of your waist. Your sensitive pussy throbs at the light touch, rousing from the stimulation; which only reminds you of the unpleasant remnants of arousal coating your inner thighs.
As if reading your mind, Jeongguk whispers against your skin. “Let's get you cleaned up, okay?”
He eyes your figure carefully, waiting for any hint of consent before he leaves you here alone.
You manage to muster a nod and then feel his dick slip from your entrance a second later, withdrawing in a way that makes you cringe and leaves you feeling oddly empty.
“I’ll be right back.” He assures, his lips quickly, but comfortingly, brushing against your hairline. Thereafter, from your peripheral, you see Jeongguk detach himself from your side, pulling his pants back up as he disappears into the bathroom to do what he does best—take care of you.
In the meantime, you resist the temptation to slump back onto the sofa, feeling a hefty load of cum leaking down your thighs. Every muscle in your body feels relaxed, those sparks from earlier sizzling down into sleepy, smoky remnants that weigh you down. Mind a dazed mess, not sure of how much time has passed, you almost give in—the slumber you so desperately sought out at the beginning of the night finally settling into your bones—when Jeongguk walks back into the living room. He's changed into a pair of briefs and is carrying a wet cloth, as well as, a small tube of ointment.
Your body instantly perks up, a little rejuvenated by his presence.
“Hey,” Jeongguk murmurs once he's back in your close vicinity, fingers brushing against your cheeks as he peers down at you with a soft smile.
“Hey,” You tiredly grin back, pointing a finger at the items in his hand. “Those for me?”
Jeongguk hums, draping an arm around your waist to steady you. If you had the energy to freshen yourself up, you honestly would but currently, you can barely keep your eyes open. So instead you lean on your boyfriend—figuratively and literally—clutching onto his biceps as he brings the warm cloth to your nether regions. You hiss a little at the contact, still feeling delicate down there, but Jeongguk handles you with a gentle mindfulness that makes your heart swell. Makes you think back to a little over an hour ago, when you were alone in bed unable to fall asleep because he wasn't there.
And sometimes it worries you. How much you need him. How much something as simple and basic as sleep, needs the warmth of his touch to make its mark on you. How much you’ve grown to love him in the span of a few months, your life endlessly orbiting around him like the earth to the sun. How much the deepest crevices of your soul, where the vile fear of abandonment and instinctual desire to run, relinquish themselves to the light of Jeongguk’s unconditional love.
You watch him toss the used washcloth to the side before unscrewing the top of the ointment. Sigh; as his fingers, tender with purpose, apply dabs of vitamin K salve to your hips where the marks from his fingertips are starting to surface. “Shit, I'm so sorry baby.” He apologizes, the raspy, hushed tone of his voice communicating how guilt-ridden he feels. “I didn't mean to be this rough.”
And, you've never known a love like this. One that rustles through your hair like the wind on the drive down to your parents. One that meets you in the dead of winter between classes, wrapped up in coats and scarves, and coffee as the snow falls. One that kisses you goodnight, hands cupping your cheeks while the street lamps flicker outside.
One that dresses all your bruises.
It makes you want to run in the opposite direction every now and then, fleeing until you forget that you ever knew it could be this good, this safe.
But, staring at Jeongguk and the careful, intricate way he's massaging ointment onto all your black-and-blues, you bury these trepidations away, laying them to rest in the one place they belong—the past.
Because yes, you’ve never had this sort of love before—the seriousness, the commitment.
The emptied-out drawers for your clothes.
The spare toothbrush at his place.
The conversations of a future together—the clear line being crossed from fling to forever.
Even though it's a concept so scary and unfamiliar, and foreign to you—you never want to let it go.
You never want to let him go.
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