#anyway they let the tips touch

[chainrave]

i feel like some of the condemnation of akuroku stems from a huge chunk of the kh fandom's obsession with infantilizing roxas. his naïvety and underdeveloped understanding of the world in canon (specifically days) is oversimplified and construed as some weird "toddler in a teenager body" situation which of course would make akuroku vewy icky yucky wucky and pwoblematic

(this also contributes to that weird ass fanon interpretation of axel in a parental role when he is the equivalent of a guy who hangs outside of gas stations offering to buy high schoolers booze and cigs so they'll think he's cool and be his friend because he doesn't get along with people his own age thanks to being emotionally stunted)

[dirt-str1der]

What ive learned about the yakuza community is that you guys are way too hung up over that scene in y4 where he pinned haruka to the ground then started panting really heavily , that didnt happen for me , that scene wasnt real to me i forgot about it.

[lilgynt]

oh i did go on that dinner that turned into pool and then smoking by the mountains but goal was met he wanted to khs

[woahjo]

APHRODISIAC! (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist 

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Katsuki gets hit with an aphrodisiac quirk. You decide to check in on him. What could go wrong?

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, dubcon, smut, porn with little to no plot, aphrodisiac quirks, quirkless reader, prohero!katsuki, rough sex, borderline free use, biting, creampie, multiple orgasms (fem!receiving), masturbation, edging (kinda), manhandling, katsuki is dominant but also not idk he's desperate, possessiveness, overstimulation, size kink, scent kink, some light aftercare! woo hoo!, friends to lovers sort of

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: yeah ik this isn't what i typically write but idk where this came from. i had a thought and it spiraled bad and now i have this. there is no deeper message. there is no meaning. i wrote this to make him FUCK and be kinda weird and desperate and pathetic about it. i needed to see him physically overpower us while also so desperate that it makes him look stupid. i feel violent. this bad boy is not going on ao3 lol. anyway, enjoy, heed the warnings.

Katsuki paces around the one bedroom apartment he rents in downtown Musutafu. His skin is tingling. Every nerve he has burns like it's been set on fire, needing some sort of touch to soothe it. His cock aches between his legs, hard and leaking against the side of his thigh. Katsuki grits his teeth, running his hands over his hair and then letting his palms slide down the sides of his exposed biceps. 

Sweat collects on his skin, the kind that comes from desperation or maybe a fever, and he feels it on his palms when he lets them drop to his sides and clenches his fists. Fuck, he can't believe he got hit with a non-fatal quirk and had to be sent home. It's humiliating. What's worse is that it hasn't worn off yet, rendering him completely useless. 

He sits on his couch, his legs spread wide, and leans back against the couch cushions, wincing as he reaches to unbutton his pants. He's never been this sensitive in his life and it almost hurts to grab his cock and pull it from his pants. Katsuki watches it twitch for a moment, rigid between his legs and leaking pre-cum from its angry tip. He doesn't even have to think about anything in particular, he's just turned on. Unbearably so. 

Katsuki wraps his hand around the base of his cock and jerks upward once, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth at his own sensitivity. Then, the desperation sets in fully and he squeezes the head of his cock with a wince and a low groan before beginning to slide his hand up and down. He pauses to spit into his palm, desperate for some sort of relief from the tension weaving its way through his body, his hand moving faster and fast over this dick. Katsuki only pauses when he touches his overly sensitive head, swallowing down an audible moan as he moves his hips to desperately fuck his fist. 

He tries not to think of the humiliation in this, instead focusing on chasing a high that seems to get farther and farther. He stays like this for a while, desperately fucking his fist with low groans and whines. His face is completely flushed, sweat beading on his brow and forehead, covering every inch of his skin with a pathetic, glowing sheen. God, he's almost fucking angry. The frustration, the sheer desperation for release, is making it difficult to control his temper and he knots his free hand into the soft pillow beside him, raising it to his face and using it to cover his head so he can be a little louder. 

He's desperately humping his fist when his doorbell rings. At first, it's only once and Katsuki thinks he can ignore it, but then it comes again, five more times and consistently more aggressive. 

"Katsuki?" your voice calls through the wood paneling of his door. "I heard you got hit with a quirk and sent home. Let me in." 

He furrows his eyebrows at the irony of the last person in the world he wants to encounter at a time like this. Pretty, quirkless, you. His long time friend and recent dispatcher at his agency. Someone he secretly wants to fuck even without the aphrodisiac quirk floating through his bloodstream. You really get under his skin. You’re exactly his type, right down to that annoying little attitude of yours that drives Katsuki insane. Of course, he's always respected your friendship a little too much to do anything about it, but tonight, he doesn't think he'll be able to and he sits in silence with his lip caught between his teeth while he fucks his fists and hopes you'll go away. 

"I know you're in there," you call again. "I can see the light on." 

You bang three times on the door and then ring the doorbell again, pushy and insistent the way you always are. A match for his stubborn attitude. 

Katsuki swears and stands up, his hands shaking as he tucks his sensitive cock back into his sweatpants and flips the head up into his waistband with a hiss. 

The crazy thing is, he can literally smell you through the door. The scent of you, that sweet and rounded perfume you wear, wafts under the crack of his apartment door. He pauses outside of it, resisting the temptation to open it, to welcome that smell into his apartment and use you to relieve the aching in his cock and lower belly. 

"Katsuki?" You ask, a little quieter now. 

Jesus fucking christ, don't call his name like that. 

He swings the door open, letting his hand rest on the side of it so that it is positioned above his head. You look taken aback at his appearance, covered in sweat and flushed from the neck up, his chest exposed and heaving. 

"What?" he says, looking you up and down. 

Katsuki bites back the urge to yank you in. Why is it he can literally smell the sweat on your body and every prick of your emotions? It's like he can tell exactly what you're thinking, or maybe it's what he wants you to be thinking. 

"Don't get on my ass about me still technically needing to be at work," you start, stepping forward. "I heard something happened and I just came to check and you look like shi-" 

Katsuki blocks you from coming in with his body. You stumble backwards lightly and raise your eyebrow at him. There's a pause as you register that you've just run into a solid wall of muscle, sweat covered and glistening, while Katsuki eyes you like you're meat on a platter. He knows he's doing it, but he can literally smell every turn of your scent, soft and sweet. And he may be fooling himself... but are you... turned on? 

"Let me in?" you say with a small laugh, side stepping to go around him. He blocks you again, his fingers gripping the door frame so hard that his knuckles are white. 

"Go home," he says quietly, his voice tense. 

"What? No," you furrow your eyebrows at him. "What's the matter with you?" 

You duck under his arm and place your hand momentarily on his chest. Your touch makes him tingle all over and he sucks in a sharp breath. 

"I'm not fucking around," he says. 

"Okay, me neither," you respond with a bit of an attitude. "I expected you to be worse for wear but you look like crap. Like you're... I don't know." 

You trail off a little. 

"Let me help," you say, shaking off whatever thought had come over you. "I'll make you some food." 

"Look, no offense, but I don't think you want to help me with this," he says, a frustrated bite in his voice. Food isn't exactly what he's hungry for. 

"That's too bad," you say slowly, seemingly put off by the desperate air about him and settling into his kitchen. You move to open the fridge.

Katsuki walks up to you quickly, taking your wrist from the door and holding it between the two of you. Cool air hits his exposed chest and arm as the door falls shut again. 

"I'm dead serious. Get the fuck out of here or I'm gonna do something I regret," he hisses through a clenched jaw. Your skin is warm on the pads of his fingers, wrist held flush against his palm. He bites back a genuine shudder. 

Your eyes are wide as you look back at him, glancing between where he's caught your wrist by your head and his eyes. Katsuki's gaze roams over your face, pausing as he hits the top of your blouse where a few buttons remain open. When he returns his eyes to yours, your mouth moves to open before a heady understanding settles over your features. You're so pretty. Everything about you is pretty, so delightful and delicate. Your eyes look glassy and wide. Katsuki has always found them tempting, but today he can't stop himself. 

He leans forward and kisses you, holding your wrist to his chest as his mouth comes messily into contact with yours. You squeak and freeze and it takes all he has to pull away from you. 

"Go home," he says again, his lips tingling. Katsuki feels the color creep onto his cheeks, his hand still holding your wrist. 

You don't say anything, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He swallows thick and feels the saliva drag against his throat. Then, his mouth dries completely, his expression twisting into discomfort as his cock throbs between his legs as the scent of you takes on a sharper turn. He's never felt anything like this before, something animal. 

Katsuki tightens his jaw, staring at you for a moment. Then, he takes a step towards you. You take one back, though he doesn't feel like you're afraid. Rather, you tilt your head down to look at him through your lashes. He lets out a breath through his teeth and walks you back until your ass hits the counter, his free hand coming to gingerly touch your waist. You inhale when he leans in to kiss you again, screwing your eyes shut and reaching to grab at his shoulder to pull him closer. 

Every touch tingles. It burns and he drops your wrist to manhandle your hips. You suck on his bottom lip, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down to you. He ruts his hips against yours, desperate for any sort of friction to relieve the ache, and you gasp a little and let your mouth fall open. Katsuki takes the opportunity to bite down hard on your lip with a low groan, slipping his tongue into your mouth as the pads of his fingers press harshly into you. You whine, eyebrows pulling up. 

Katsuki’s eyes are slightly open, just so that he can look at you. Every aspect of his senses feel heightened and the relief of your mouth far surpasses that of his hand over his throbbing cock only minutes earlier. 

He pants, taking your hips and lifting you onto the counter so that you’re seated, pulling away for just a moment to lift the hem of your shirt and expose your breasts. Katsuki puts his face on the pillowy tops of them, biting and sucking at the exposed skin as his hand teases its way up the skin of your back to unclasp it. He thinks you’re probably looking at him, but if you are, he doesn’t have the mind to care about what sort of behavior he’s exhibiting. He can practically smell how wet you are from just a little touching and if he weren’t so fucking desperate for a little relief, he’d tease you for a few hours just to watch your pussy drool over him. 

The cool air of his apartment hits your exposed nipples. Katsuki takes it upon himself, without even a second thought, to roll the hard bud under his tongue. He feels the way goosebumps rise on your skin, his hands coming to rest over the tops of your thighs. Katsuki bites lightly on your breast and you fucking whine at it, tipping your head back and rooting your hand into the tufts of his blonde hair. 

His cock jumps in his pants and he’s no doubt leaked enough to leave an evident wet spot against the gray of his sweatpants. He stands to his full height, pushing your skirt up and pressing the outline of his cock to your crotch. Heat bleeds through your panties, the kind that makes him feel like he’s going absolutely fucking insane. You gasp, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him close again. 

Katsuki’s mouth hits yours messily, breathing hard as he ruts his hips up against your crotch, pulling you forward on the counter so he can feel as much of the pillowy folds of your pussy through the thick fabric as possible. You let him take your bottom lip between his teeth, sharp canines digging into the wet flesh of your mouth. He whines— high-pitched, desperate sound—as you position your hips to press your crotch against the head of his cock. His head falls onto your chest, forehead resting against the hollow of your throat. Katsuki humps at you, pulling you against him to match the rhythm of his hips, grinding your clothed cunt over the bulge of his cock. It’s a desperate motion, completely subconscious as he lets the quirk he’s been hit with take the lead.

His fingers dip into the crease of your thigh, fumbling as they reach for the waistband of the panties you’re wearing. Katsuki’s desperation is so palpable that he finds himself panting as he slips his fingers into the sides of your underwear, yanking them down. You gasp at the force of it and he swears he hears a small tear as he pulls them from your cunt, the crotch sticking to the lips of your pussy. 

He leans his hips forward again, sliding his cock between your folds with a deep grunt. His mouth finds your neck and he bites along the side of it, lathing his tongue over your pulse point. It’s like he can taste you. Salt and that stupid perfume, collecting on his tongue as you dig your fingers into his back, his dick rutting restlessly against your clit. At one point, he almost slips in, his eagerness and your wetness making him careless. Katsuki sucks in a breath through his teeth, his whole body on fire. 

The kitchen light shines down on his back and he can see the outline of part of his shadow on your thighs as he stares down at them, guiding the tip of himself to your entrance. He hears you wine when he presses against it and moves his hand down subconsciously to rub at your clit. An attempt to ease the stretch. 

You tip your head back in a moan and Katsuki takes the opportunity to kiss your neck before settling his teeth against your shoulder and biting down harshly on the muscle connecting your neck and arm. You yelp at the sensation and Katsuki shutters at the sound, willing out a choked I’m sorry as he slides into your wetness. His hands push into the delightfully soft flesh of your upper thighs, the fat spilling up around each individual digit as he uses your legs for leverage, sliding you forward even further to better seat you on him. 

Your legs are shaking and he can feel the way your nails dig into his exposed shoulder blades. Your bunch up skirt causes the fat of your tummy to fold over in a way that practically makes Katsuki drool. He urges himself to pause, attempting to come back to his senses as the quirk kicks into high gear. There’s relief in being inside of you, in feeling the flutter of your walls around his thick cock, but it also makes him desperate. Katsuki feels like he’s chasing something that he was desperately and it’s just out of his reach. 

You’re breathing heavily above him, he can see the rise and fall of your chest from where his head hangs down, his hands trembling on the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you through his lashes, his vision foggy around the edges as if he were peering through a tube. You’re at the end of it, your eyes glassy and mouth open, returning the look. Your eyebrows are knitted up in pleasure, but you almost seem confused. 

“What are you waiting for?” You breathe out, the first thing you’ve said since he started touching you. 

The tone of your voice is needy, with a delightful whiny lilt that makes him groan out loud. He can barely manage the words that come out next, his brain half mush, and he feels the way his cock jumps inside of you. 

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he says through gritted teeth, his breath coming heavy. 

There’s a pause and he feels the distinct sensation of you squeezing down around his cock, like the idea turns you on. 

“Use me,” you respond cautiously, your voice still containing that needy lilt. 

Katsuki’s hips fuck up into you voluntarily and he feels the way his breath catches in his throat at the near desperate sound of your voice.

“Say that again.” 

“Use me, Katsuki,” you respond, choking on your words as he fucks his hips up into you. 

You reach for his face, taking it in your hands and drawing it close until it’s just in front of yours. Then, your palms slide down his shoulders and he screws his eyes shut and fucks into you again, harder this time, causing your body to jolt upwards on the counter. 

He curses under his breath, pushing one leg further to the side and fucking his hips up into you roughly. You’re looking right at him, your expression drawn and pleasure-soaked, sweat collecting on your forehead as your mouth drops open into an o-shape. You punctuate his thrusts with high pitched yelps, squeaking out your pleasure and the deepness of where he’s hitting through choked moans. 

Katsuki’s hands move up your stomach to roughly cup your breasts, his mouth so close to yours that he’s practically breathing in the sounds you make in exchange for his own hurried groans. He kneads at the fat of your chest, rolling your breast under his fingers before taking your nipples and pulling lightly on them. 

He’s aware of just how rough he’s being, just how hard his hips are slapping yours, but he feels like he can’t stop. Katsuki chases a high so fucking desperate that his body is on autopilot, reaching and touching and moaning unabashedly as the room fills with the wet sound of his balls on the backs of your thick thighs. 

You push your chest forward towards him, legs spread wide to make room for the width of his hips between yours as he bullies that perfect sensitive spot inside of you. Katsuki feels the way he makes you flutter. Every shift of your body, every involuntary squeeze of your cunt as he drags his cock along your walls, registers as if he were a part of you. His skin tingles everywhere you touch and the drag of your nails over his shoulder blades makes him want to crawl into the deepest part of you. Even the sound of your voice, drawn and desperate and mildly overwhelmed, feels like a drug to him. Every sense he has seems to be acutely attuned to just how badly he needs to fuck your lights out. 

His hands slink down to your hips, resituating you and pulling you flush against him. Then, he drags his cock all the way out of you and quickly ruts back in, moaning as he does. His pace picks up, manhandling you forward on the counter until he is supporting most of your weight. You gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as you let him use you like a toy. 

Katsuki chases his high, his stomach seeming to wind tighter and tighter but never finding that perfect snap and release. His movements grow faster, using all of his strength to fuck his hips up into you, barreling his cock against your gummy walls and bullying your sweet spot. He feels the way you tighten down around him, your body tensing and fingers digging crescent moons into the tops of his shoulders. 

“Ka-” you choke out desperately, your voice breaking. “Wait, Katsuki, wait! I’m gonna-” 

You shudder, your thighs squeezing around him as he continues to fuck you. 

“Do it,” he seethes, “just fuckin’ do it.” 

The end of his sentence comes out as more of a whimper as you cry out and squeeze down around him, squirming in his grasp as you begin to twitch with every additional thrust. Your body shakes, legs locking around him and struggling to hold him inside as he fucks you clear through your orgasm and then to the other side. 

Katsuki’s voice breaks, almost whimpering like an animal as he buries himself in your pussy over and over again. He wants to smother you, he wants to completely cover your body and get as close as he possibly can. He’s already so much bigger than you, so much broader, how hard could it be to swallow you completely? 

Katsuki’s hands come up under your ass as he wordlessly lifts you from the counter and moves to the couch on desperate, shaky steps. He lays you down, slipping out of you for a moment, before pressing a hand to the inside of your thigh, spreading your legs, and sinking his cock back into you as he crowds his body over yours. 

“You know what?” He says, not really sure what’s going to come next. His head is so clouded with the quirk that he can’t think straight. “I’ve wanted to do this forever. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so- long-” 

He screws his eyes shut, almost angry with the way he can’t seem to hit that high, teetering on a desperate and near painful edge. 

“Those fuckin’ pencil skirts,” he says, unable to control his words or sharp tone. “The way you wear your hair, that damn look in your eye that constantly makes you seem like you’re beggin’ for it.” 

Katsuki whines, a sharp sound from the back of his throat, as you tighten up around him. He meets your gaze, clouded and watery eyes accented by the delightful furrow in the center of your brow. 

“And then you show up here,” he groans, not even sure of what he’s really saying. “Blouse unbuttoned, looking for trouble. I’m gonna fuck your lights out. ‘Till you can’t even think about fuckin’ anyone else.” 

He leans in close, his mouth right up against yours. 

“This is g’nna make you mine, right?” 

You nod, your movements clumsy, and pull him close to you. 

Katsuki loses all of his sense, burying himself in the feel of your pussy and the way he sinks into you, giving into the desperation of the quirk. He can feel just how deep he’s hitting, the way you suck in sharp, whiny breaths with every inward thrust. Katsuki’s hands grip your waist, pulling your ass up off the couch so that his angle is better. 

His cock seems to drag endlessly against your overstimulated, pillowy, insides and you practically drool around. He feels like a dog slobbering over meat, any semblance of politeness completely gone from both his expression and his movements. This is going to fucking ruin your friendship, but he doesn’t even have half of a mind to think about it, so drawn into the delightful feel of your body and the aching in his cock that only seems to subside slightly with every thrust. 

You try to choke out the word “again” and he feels like he knows what’s coming. Your whole body tenses, legs locking around him as you cream over his cock for the second time. 

This seems to get Katsuki somewhere, the sensation of your pussy clamping down finally giving him some leeway to relief. He hits the edge of an orgasm, leading himself to the finish line. 

The tension in his belly grows, cock twitching inside of your fucked out cunt. His fingers dig into your hips and he collapses forward, rolling his body so that the head of his cock catches perfectly inside of you, massaging and churning you up. You’re moaning, though maybe it’s more adjacent to whining, and Katsuki can hear himself mimicking the sounds, his body leading the way. 

Then finally, on a pathetic and broken whimper, Katsuki cums. His whole body tenses, weight pressing down on you as he buries his face into your neck and lets his voice out beside the hollow of your throat. The relief and pleasure is so intense that Katsuki feels the way every muscle in his body tenses and lets go, filling you up with as much of him as he has to give. 

His hips continue to pathetically rut into you, little choked moans escaping his lips as he uses his own cum as lube for his weak little thrusts. Then, he completely relaxes. 

Katsuki feels the way his skin stops burning, the way the desperation at the back of his throat subsides, how his body rids itself of the quirk as quickly as the arousal came on. He shudders, coming back to himself and raising his head to peer at your expression. 

You look exhausted, hair a mess and face covered in a thick sheen of sweat. You still flutter around his cock, your hands gripping his shoulders as you try and ride through the overstimulation of just having him inside of you. Katsuki furrows his brows, exhaustion creeping into his muscles. He raises his hand and uses it to push stray strands of hair from your face with his palm on your forehead. Then, with a clear mind, he leans forward and kisses you. 

You blink at him for a second, before giving a weak smile, raising your eyebrows and letting your head fall to the side. Katsuki winces when he pulls out of you, sucking in a sharp breath and standing to his full height. He places a hand on his forehead like he’s assessing the situation, staring at your body, still fully clothed with your skirt pushed all the way up your stomach and your blouse missing a button at the top. 

He wordlessly walks to the bathroom and wets a washcloth with warm water, walking back over to you and wiping down the exposed parts of your body. You don’t really say anything to him, but you smile quietly while he gingerly wipes you down, your smeared makeup accenting just how much of a mess he’s made. 

“Fuck,” he says. “I’m sorry, this isn’t how-” 

“How you wanted this to go?” You say softly, the corners of your lips turning up. 

Katsuki feels the way he flushes, all the way to the tops of his chest. 

“No, it’s not,” he admits, running a hand over his face as he crouches beside you. 

You laugh a little and he furrows his brows at you, frustrated and embarrassed. 

“You’ve got a bit of a possessive streak, huh?” You tease lightly.

“I got hit with some asshole’s fuckin’ quirk and-” he begins explaining himself, something he probably should have done when you showed up at the door. 

“It was good though,” you say, tilting your head at him from where you lay.

Katsuki blinks at you, his expression completely flat. You should really know just how fucking crazy you drive him. Then, he scowls a little, not because he’s upset, but because he’s currently feeling the opposite and that makes him awkward. 

“You’re into that shit?” He says, a bit incredulously. 

You shrug and give him a coy smile. 

[wintaerbaer]

bottle up old love (jjk) (m)

summary: Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genre: exes to lovers, the holy trinity of angst/smut/fluff

word count: 4.6k (this was supposed to be a drabble 💀)

prompt: JK + exes to lovers + "I'm sorry" + "I hate you" + "Don't fucking touch me" + "Leave" (for @btsborahaee <3)

warnings: language, a short harassment scene at the beginning (nothing too intense), explicit content including: unprotected sex (DO NOT), fingering, praise kink, biting, marking, spanking, cum eating (sort of?), big cawk soft dom jk, cowgirl (yeehaw), creampie, cockwarming, i think that's all but this also wasn't supposed to be too smutty so clearly idk what's going on lol

MASTERLIST

“Don’t fucking touch me!”

You spit the words at the man in front of you, pushing him back as he tries to make another grab at your arm.

“Why do you gotta be like that?” Seungcheol whines. “I thought we were having fun.”

“You and I have very different ideas of fun.” You take a step backwards towards your building. Somewhere down the sidewalk, footsteps clatter against the pavement.

“C’mon.” He matches your movement, reaches for you again. “Invite me up. You enjoyed the last time, didn’t you? I told you that was just a warm-up.”

The building’s brick wall is closer than you thought, and you bang your shoulder against it as you try to sidestep him. “Last time you didn’t follow me to a bar I didn’t even invite you to. How did you know where I was anyway?”

“Let me come up, and I’ll tell you,” he rumbles with a flicker of his eyebrows. He has you fully backed up against the wall now, and you press against the muscle of his chest to no avail.

“Stop!” you shout before he’s ripped away from you so suddenly that you’re left blinking in confusion, huddled against the brick.

There’s a thud–the sound of a fist hitting flesh–and a yelp before Seungcheol is reeling back with his hands clutching his nose. Blood seeps out from beneath his fingers, black even under the glow of the streetlamps.

“What the fuck?” he shrieks, and it’s only then that you take a proper look at your savior, looking every bit like he’s stepped straight out of the shadows with his dark hair, ebony clothes, and deep brown eyes.

And a lead weight drops into your stomach as you recognize him.

Jungkook sets himself between you and Seungcheol, looming over the latter as he continues to cover his face, whining. “I’m giving you ten seconds to get out of here.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

“Ten,” Jungkook growls, taking a step in Seungcheol’s direction. “Nine.”

Seungcheol straightens–clearly a last-ditch attempt to look intimidating. Spitting blood onto the concrete, he peers at you over Jungkook’s shoulder. “This isn’t over, bitch.”

Then he spins and takes off running down the street.

Your hands grip your elbows. It may be a balmy summer night, but you’re shivering where you stand, unsure whether you’re more affected by Seungcheol’s behavior or the ghost who’s unexpectedly in front of you.

“Are you okay?” he quietly asks, gaze fixed on your face. You stare at your shoes and give him a brisk nod as a response before turning away, punching in your building code, and walking through the front door.

He follows closely, slipping in behind you and trailing a few feet. You let him for a little while, guiding him through the modest lobby and up the first flight of stairs. But when you’re halfway up the second stairwell–almost to your floor–you pause on the landing, spinning his way.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

His eyes are gentle, sincere. “Making sure you get in safely.”

“There’s no need for that,” you assert. “I’m already in my building. There’s a keypad. I’m good.”

“The keypad does almost nothing. I followed you in no problem.”

“So I should be worried about you then?”

He flushes, the tips of his ears going pink. “Please just let me see you inside.”

You want to argue back, want to shout at him and make a scene, but you know it’s no use. Know that he’s stubborn as a bull and will get what he wants one way or another.

It’s how he broke up with you after all.

You say nothing, only hustle up the last set of steps and down the dimly-lit hallway until you’re in front of your door, Jungkook tailing you the whole time with his hands in his pockets. You practically fumble your key in your haste to get it into the lock, letting out a satisfied sigh as the latch finally clicks open.

“There. I’m in,” you say as you step over the threshold, waving a dismissive hand at your unwanted companion. “Leave.”

But he hesitates just outside the doorway, teeth chewing at the corner of his lip. “What are you going to do if he comes back?”

“That’s my problem, isn’t it? I stopped being your concern when you dropped me out of nowhere a year ago.”

Your eyes sting at the memory, tears threatening to spill over. You don’t want him here. Don’t want to see him or have him anywhere in your vicinity. Not when it still hurts like this.

Though, truth be told, you don’t expect to ever be fully over him.

“We’re done, Jungkook,” you murmur. “You made sure of that.”

And you close the door in his face.

The distress subsides quickly once he’s out of sight–like he was never there to begin with–and you don’t linger, dropping your bag on the sofa and heading straight for the bathroom. This is how you’ve made it a year without him; it was weeks of crying before you realized that wallowing was doing you no good, only fueling your misery instead of providing any kind of catharsis. So you’ve done your best to simply push past it and cast away the anguish that bubbles up every time you think of him. Not allow it to linger like the shadows at the edges of the room.

You shed your clothes and turn the shower to a temperature that you’ll probably regret later. But for now, you savor the way the water sears your skin as you wash away the day with all of its unpleasant surprises. Taking your time, you scrub every inch of your body and carefully shampoo your hair (trying not to fall back into the fantasy that’s plagued you on occasion where it’s his hands and not yours spreading the bubbles over your form).

The self-care continues as you step out of the shower and leisurely work through your skin care routine, even taking the time to blow dry your hair. By the time you exit the bathroom, the fog on the mirror has dissipated, and you’ve once again successfully tamped down the memory of Jungkook and his hands and eyes and everything you ever felt for him.

Or so you think.

After popping into your bedroom to pull on some pajamas, you pad back into the living room for a glass of water, and your eyes are immediately drawn to the front door. Regret attempts to push its way into your consciousness against your better judgment. The man broke your heart, yes. But you do feel a little guilty slamming the door in his face after he just fought off a creep for you.

And speaking of Seungcheol, what if he does come back? You’re pretty sure he saw you punch in the building code the night you brought him home with you, and given his behavior, you wouldn’t be surprised if he filed it away in his head.

Anxiety winning out, you creep to the door and peer through the peephole. The hallway looks empty, drab beige walls taking up most of your field of view, but you jump as you spot a hulking shadow to the right. Your heartbeat races then slows, a closer look revealing hunched, unmoving shoulders wrapped in a familiar black t-shirt.

Jungkook swings his head to look at you as you open the door and glare down at him. His legs are pulled up, arms resting on his knees, and it might be endearing if not for the fact that he absolutely, positively should not be here.

“What are you doing?” you ask him for the second time tonight.

“He might come back.”

“And you’re going to what? Fight him?”

He shrugs. “If I have to.”

“Yeah?” You raise an eyebrow, challenging. “You’re going to sit out here all night?”

He shifts where he sits, wiggling his hips like he’s firmly planting his butt into his chosen spot. “Yes.”

You roll your eyes at him but don’t doubt that he would. Again, if there is anything you know this man to be, it’s stubborn. “You’re going to scare the neighbors.”

“Who, Mrs. Kwon?” A tiny smile plays on his lips as he glances in the direction of your elderly neighbor’s apartment. “I think she’d be delighted to see me.”

If you’re being honest, she probably would be. She’s always adored Jungkook and praised him as the “kind, handsome young man” who helped her put away groceries and fixed her leaky faucet one time. In the months following your breakup, she’d asked about him once or twice, patting your arm reassuringly when you awkwardly told her she wouldn’t be seeing him anymore.

“Don’t worry, dear,” she said. “He’ll come around.”

Well she’s turned out to be right in that he’s certainly back here again, still watching you from his spot on the floor. And you don’t know whether it’s his big doe eyes or the fact that he really would guard your apartment all night if you let him or the genuine fear that one of the other neighbors will make a fuss at his presence, but you feel yourself softening.

Turning abruptly, you stride into the kitchen for your glass of water, walking out of sight of the door, which is still wide open.

“You coming?” you call, pulling two glasses down from the cupboard.

There’s a rustle as Jungkook stands and shuffles into your apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. For someone who was so determined to defend you tonight, he seems uncertain now that he’s actually inside. His hands are once again stuffed in his pockets, and his eyes flicker around like he hasn’t been here a thousand times. Hasn’t cooked you breakfast in this kitchen in nothing but his boxers. Hasn’t watched The Notebook with you on this TV and held you as you both cried.

Hasn’t made love to you on the couch.

You slide a water his way, and he murmurs his thanks, sipping at it lightly. It’s strange–seeing him here again–and you can’t help but think about the last time he stood in this room. It’d been a maelstrom of accusations and hurt feelings that culminated in him storming out, the slam of the door echoing in your ears.

“You never cleaned that?” He gestures at the rug that covers most of the sitting area in your living room, eyes on the dark purple stain roughly the size of your hand.

You gulp down your water and try not to follow his line of sight. Try not to remember how you’d knocked over a glass of wine in your haste to get his clothes off during another movie night less than a month before your breakup.

“I kind of forgot about it,” you say. “Stopped noticing it after a while.” 

It’s a lie. There was never a time when you didn’t notice it, the memory of him haunting you every time you sit down on the couch and stare at the garish stain. And still, you haven’t been able to bring yourself to try and erase it.

Silence worms its way between you again. With only the soft light from the tabletop lamp glowing next to the couch, Jungkook’s face is cloaked in shadow. And so you barely see his lips move when he speaks. Barely hear it with how quietly his whisper slips into the room.

“I’m sorry.”

Your glass almost drops from your fingers, droplets splashing across your knuckles as you catch it at the last moment and steady it on the countertop. Turning to face him, you find his gaze already on you, melancholy tinting his expression.

“What?”

He tongues his lip ring, shoulders dropping a fraction. “For how things ended. I’m sorry.”

You can see the sincerity in his posture, can see the sadness in his form. And yet, his words only fill you with a hot anger that bubbles out of you before you can swallow it down.

“I don’t know why you would be,” you challenge, “being that you didn’t even respect me enough to give me a proper reason.”

Jungkook huffs at that; you think he’s resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Did it really matter?”

“Yes.”

He gnaws at his lip again, no longer looking at you, and his lack of an answer only riles you up further.

“Was there someone else?” you demand, causing him to flinch. It was the same thing you asked him when he told you he thought you should break up, standing in almost this exact same spot.

“No,” he murmurs after a moment. “There wasn’t anyone else.” He pushes a hand through his dark, silky hair. “There hasn’t been anyone else since either.”

This surprises you. Jungkook is, in your eyes, the handsomest man you have ever come face-to-face with, but even from an objective standpoint, he is exceedingly attractive. There is no doubt in your mind that he would easily be able to land a woman if he so desired.

“So then why?”

He sets his jaw, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and fixes his stare out the window. And it’s this final refusal, this steadfast dedication to not explaining himself, that finally has tears tracking down your cheeks.

The sight of you crying has his attention snapping back your way, hands reaching out as if to hold you.

“Don’t touch me,” you gasp, recoiling until you’re out of reach. “I…I hate you.”

It almost seems as if your voice lands physically, and Jungkook staggers back like you’ve slapped him, remorse immediately wiggling its way between your ribs. You know you don’t mean the words even as they fall from your mouth, but it feels pointless to take them back now, the sentiment already thrown out there and hovering in the hollow space between you.

Jungkook muddles towards the couch–more of a defeated slump dragging his steps than anger–and you think he’s going to sit down before he whirls back towards you at the last second.

“The gala,” he mutters. “That’s when I decided.”

You know which one he’s talking about. Hosted by your medical school to celebrate the end of the academic year, it had been a night of food, dancing, and socializing. You had, of course, brought him as your date and introduced him to your friends and classmates, excited to finally allow him to put faces to names. As you comb through your memories of the night, you can’t pinpoint any warning signs, only remembering the way he’d smiled at you throughout. The way he’d pulled you close and danced you around the room.

“I don’t…I don’t understand.”

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, tossing strands of night over his forehead. A sad chuckle looses itself into the thick air of the room, and the final dregs of his resolve flicker away. “I realized that I didn’t deserve to stand next to you. That you could do much better than me.”

Whatever you thought his reason had been–whatever theories or thoughts had kept you up night after night for the past year–this is not even close to what you expected. And while you always thought finally receiving an answer would be freeing, would offer you some semblance of understanding, you’re surprised at the rage that boils in the pit of your stomach, bile rising in your throat.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you growl, taking an angered step towards him. “You were feeling insecure, and you made the decision to break up with me without even thinking to, I don’t know, discuss it with me first?”

His hand goes to the back of his neck now, embarrassment showing its face as he peers at you from under his lashes. “I was stupid–”

“No, shit.”

“But can you blame me?” he presses. “There we were: you, about to be this incredible doctor with all of your doctor friends…” His voice falters, sorrow lacing his tone. “And I’m just a tattoo artist.”

The defeatist way he says it helps to dampen your ire some, even if a heap of frustration remains–the sad shape of his doe eyes softening your edges.

“Just a tattoo artist,” you repeat. “Jungkook, I have always been so, so proud of you. I was never anything but proud to have you as my partner. You must’ve known that.”

His teeth worry his lip, and though he nods, he doesn’t seem fully convinced.

So you continue on, closing the distance between you a fraction more. “You started your own business from nothing. And I saw how hard you worked: to get the building, to hire other artists, train your apprentices.” You shake your head–half in irritation, half in awe. “And look at you now! You’re thriving. The last I heard, if you want an appointment at Golden Tattoo, you need to book months in advance.”

His eyes are alight now, some hidden emotion glimmering under the surface, but he stays quiet as he soaks in your words.

“So how can you possibly act like you weren’t enough?” you push. “You are amazing, Jungkook. And I never gave a shit about any job comparisons people may have made.” One more step, and suddenly you’re almost chest-to-chest. As always, you’re unable to resist the pull of his gravity. Yanked right back into his orbit. “I only wanted you. I’ve only ever wanted y–”

He cuts you off with his mouth, strong hands snagging your hips to pull you against him, and your own fingers reflexively tangle in his black hoodie as your subconscious gives itself over to him. Like it’s been waiting for this.

“I’m not. Not thriving,” he mumbles against your lips. “Not without you. Been miserable without you.”

And in spite of your anger, in spite of the fact that you were ready to kick him out a mere hour ago, you find yourself kissing him back, relishing the slick glide of his tongue as he licks into your mouth.

You startle as the backs of your knees suddenly bump against the couch, and then Jungkook is spinning as he settles onto the plush seat, pulling you along to straddle him. He sucks at your neck until you can feel the blood blooming under your skin, painting you like the pretty ink on his arm.

Speaking of.

The fabric of his hoodie whispers as you pull it up and over his back and head, tossing it over his shoulder and into a corner. His arms now bare to you, you gloss over his tattoos with your eyes and fingers until you find the one you’d picked out for him; the lovely orange of the flower petals seem to glow even in the dim light of the room.

“Beautiful,” you whisper.

“Just like you.”

You look at him then, the twinkle of tiny galaxies in his eyes betraying his hope. And before you can go any further, you need confirmation.

“You left.”

“I did.” Fingertips press lightly against your waist like he’s afraid you might be the one to disappear now. “I’m sorry.”

“Jungkook, if…” You lick your lips. Can almost taste his regret. “If we do this and you leave again–”

“If we do this, I'm not going anywhere,” he insists, tugging your hips down to grind against him and ghosting a kiss at your jaw. “Just wanna be here with you. Just want you.”

And it’s all you need to hear.

You shed the cotton shirt you had thrown on after your shower and move to yank his own off, tossing it in the same corner as his hoodie. The muscles of his pecs and abs shift under your hands, burning hot where your fingers trace the contours of his torso. 

“God, I missed this,” he groans as he buries his face between your breasts, nipping at the skin there before laving the spot with his tongue.

You’d agree–echo the sentiment that your body has been aching for this–if not for the fact that you’re too busy trying to get the two of you naked, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts.

But a tattooed hand covers yours, eases it away to take its place. “No,” he rumbles. “Let me.”

Wide palms and long fingers span your hips and thighs, grasping as much skin as possible even as he drags your shorts and panties down your legs and helps to steady you as you kick them off. They join the tangle of his own clothes

“Fucking gorgeous,” he growls at the sight of you finally naked in front of him. And with such speed that it almost seems like it’s involuntary, an impulse outside of his control, he’s immediately stroking at the apex of your thighs.

“Baby, this wet for me already?” A breathy sigh passes from his mouth to yours, almost laughing at the ease with which he glides through your folds. “Hell, I could just–”

A finger slips in and you gasp, Jungkook smiling wickedly at you as he quickly adds a second and curls them against your walls. You force your eyes closed as they roll back in your head, and you keel forward, babbling incoherently against the line of his collarbone.

“Use your words, love; you can do it.” He says it as if his fingers aren’t currently buried in you down to the knuckle. As if he’s not making you see stars behind your eyelids right now.

You choke down a breath, desperate for the oxygen. “Insane,” you pant. “I said you’re fucking insane.”

“Only for you,” he says before sliding his digits out of you and dipping them into his mouth. He moans at the taste, and even with his lips closed tightly, you can see the way he’s working his tongue around each finger, unwilling to waste a single drop of your essence.

Like you said. Insane.

He gives you a moment to catch your breath until you’re the one who’s getting impatient, hastily undoing his belt and tearing it from his pants with a hiss. But as you shift off of him so he can slither out of his pants and boxers–his length springing free to slap against his smooth stomach–you’re hit with an untimely realization.

“Jungkook, I don’t have condoms.”

He freezes, the color draining from his face (though admittedly, that may be because all of his blood has clearly gone south). The two of you stare at each other for a long second before he suddenly leans over, rummaging back through his pants pockets. He pulls out his wallet, rifles through it, then tosses it across the room in frustration, head tilting back against the couch as he groans at the ceiling.

“Fuck, me neither.”

You chew at your lip, a loaded quiet settling over the room as Jungkook wipes a hand over his face.

“I’m still on birth control,” you whisper, and Jungkook whips his head around, eyes wide and questioning like he’s not sure he heard you right. But you don’t repeat yourself, only hold his stare until he’s tentatively reaching out to graze his fingertips along your thigh.

“I told you. There’s been no one else.” His expression is earnest, eager. You trust that he’s telling the truth, and yet you also know that if you refused him, if you said you weren’t comfortable, he wouldn’t push.

So you swing a leg back over his lap, drag your wet folds against his cock. He moans, gripping your thighs hard, but he leans in to bite at your lower lip with a growl before pulling back to search your face.

“You?”

It hurts that he even feels the need to ask. Because how could you even want someone else? Who could possibly measure up?

You brush a reassuring, barely-there kiss against his already swollen lips. “No one else for me either.”

This seems to please him, but you still see hesitation behind his eyes as he asks, “What about the guy downstairs?”

A drunken mistake was what that was. All sloppy lips and fumbling hands that had left you feeling more empty than anything, and which resulted in you sending Cheol away before he had even gotten a peek at your bedroom.

“We made out once,” you admit, hating that you’re even having to think about another man when Jungkook is here in front of you. “But nothing else happened.”

“Good,” he grunts, but his fingers dig into your backside like he’s trying to reclaim you. And just a fraction of a second later, he’s devilishly tonguing his lip ring as he winds his palm back to bring it down harshly against the meat of your ass, the smack echoing between the walls almost endlessly.

“Ride me, baby.”

You’re quick to line him up–desperate, at this point, to have him inside of you–and begin to ease yourself down slowly, trying to give your body the space and time to adjust to the burning stretch of his girth. He’s always filled you to your absolute limit, tested the furthest boundaries of how much your body can take with his size.

“Yesss,” he hisses, nipping at your neck once again. “You’re doing great, love. Always take me so fucking well.”

You gasp as he bottoms out, struggling to catch your breath with the relentless push of him. If you were a betting woman, you’d put money on your intestines being somewhere in the area of your throat right now.

He wraps his inked arm around your waist, continuing to whisper his praises against the shell of your ear as he starts to guide your body up and down. Intoxicated by the smooth slide of his length, you soon find your pace, and your shared moans fill the room–the whole city probably able to hear you right now.

You move that way until the pressure building becomes too much and your legs start to tremble, quivering against Jungkook’s own muscled thighs.

“It’s okay; I’ve got you.” He bands his arms around you and presses you to his chest, holding you in place so he can thrust upwards.

Hard.

You’re practically screaming now, burying your teeth into his shoulder so as to muffle your sounds and not scare the neighbors. It’s all you can do to hold on for dear life as he rapidly pistons his cock inside of you, the slap of your hips like a metronome.

It builds and builds until it breaks and you’re falling apart in his arms, the spasms of your inner walls pulling him over the edge with you as he empties his seed deep inside.

The silence that follows in unlike the others you previously shared this evening–tension traded for serenity as you sit on the couch holding each other, you still contentedly stuffed full of him. He traces the ridges of your spine in a soothing pattern that has your eyelids drooping, your cheek resting against the warm skin of his neck.

“I missed this,” you whisper once your brain has finally remembered how to construct human speech.

“I missed you.”

You pull back so you can rest your forehead against his and gently run a finger over the lines of his face. “Where do we go from here?”

He hums. Tucks a stray hair behind your ear. “Take it day by day?” he suggests. “We don’t need to rush into anything if you don’t want to.”

“Mm, that does seem like a problem for tomorrow.”

A dark eyebrow quirks, teasing. “And what about right now?”

“Now?” you ask. “Do you remember the way to the bedroom? Or…” You shift your hips, already feeling him twitching inside of you.

“Or.” He jolts forward to capture your mouth in a hot kiss, and you smile into it, whole again. “Or sounds good.”

a/n: pls like, reblog, reply, and/or send an ask if you enjoyed! <3

[luveline]

Hi idk if u have already written this if u have pls igonore but what about the first time bombshell reader calls Spencer beautiful?

fem, 1k

“Gideon has a new prodigy.” 

Your head rises of its own accord. “Yeah?” 

“He's younger than you. Twenty three, I think Hotch said. Fresh out of college, two degrees and working on a third? Or maybe he was getting his doctorate? I couldn't keep up.” Morgan shakes his head in disapproval. “Overeducated and under-experienced. He failed his physicals. The ones he took, anyways.” 

“Ooh, ouch. A baby on the team before me,” you joke with a smile. “Genius baby, but a baby.” 

Morgan smiles when you smile, he's too nice not to, but he picks up soon enough, crossing his arms where he's stood and wrinkling what was once a finely steamed suit jacket. “I don't know what Gideon's thinking.” 

“Does anyone ever know what he's thinking? What's Hotch say about it all?” 

Morgan reads what you're typing from over your shoulder and corrects a mistake. One day you won't need his help, but for now you take as much of it as you can get. You're not too proud to acknowledge when you mess up, you're a realist. Super sensible (in mind if not action). 

“Hotch lets Gideon do what he wants, mostly. What can you do when he's one of the originals?” Morgan leans heavily onto his desk by the forearms and shrugs. You’re similar in this regard; complain, move on. You're similar in other ways, too. That's why you get along. 

“Well, I want to meet this guy,” you say. “We'll be teammates just as soon as Strauss stops hating me. I'm one strategic boxed bouquet from a full pardon.” He laughs and touches your arm like he believes you. “Is he around?” 

“Here they are now.” 

You spin in Morgan's desk chair slowly. Jason Gideon is stalking through the office with his head in the contents of a manilla envelope, while a new face follows behind him talking a mile a minute. 

“Obviously,” you hear Gideon interrupt as they get close enough. “Agent Morgan can explain that to you. Don't overthink it, Spencer, just try to get through it.” 

He doesn't acknowledge you nor Morgan as he leaves Spencer and hurries up the steps leading to his and Hotch's offices. You aren't expecting much else from him. What little Gideon knows about you he doesn't like. If you ever get over the Strauss hurdle, it's him you'd have to convince next. You don't watch him cross the landing, your gaze focused on the man making his timid way toward you. Your lips part briefly, and then quirk into an overjoyed smile. 

“Oh, you're beautiful,” you say without thinking. 

He frowns at you. 

“Reid,” Morgan interrupts, “This is Y/N L/N. She works in the sex crimes division. As you can imagine, we get a lot of crossover.” You stand, holding out your hand. “Y/N, this is Spencer Reid.” 

“I don't shake. Sorry.” 

You press your hand to your chest. “Oh, that's okay. I shouldn't assume…” Your voice melds into a silkiness that has his shapely brows furrowing further, “It's nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. You're really pretty, do you know that?” 

Spencer peeks at Morgan quickly, who laughs good-naturedly. “She's serious, Reid. She's not making fun of you.” 

“You'd know,” Spencer says. It isn't malicious, but it isn't exactly friendly, either.

You twist to frown at Morgan deeply. “Morgan, you're not being nice to him?” 

“I'm being plenty nice, sweetheart, but this is how it works. I gotta haze him a little.” 

“No, you don't.” You tip your cheek toward your shoulder to look at Spencer through your lashes. “He pretends to be worse than he is, I promise. But don't let him neg you, okay? You're smarter than he is–” 

“Hey.” 

“–and he's used to being the office pretty boy. It's jealousy, nothing else,” you finish. Spencer really is gorgeous now you're close enough to see his eyes. A brown like caramelised sugar tented by dark, dark eyelashes. When he smiles, the very slightest hint of teeth shows, and it makes him even prettier. You endeavour to make him smile again. “Sorry if I'm coming off a little strong. It's not my intention.” 

“She's just nervous. You have everything she wants,” Morgan says. 

You sigh forlornly. “Oh, doesn't he?” Spencer's confused pout is even cuter than his smile. “Getting into the BAU is about as easy as walking on water.” 

“For a human,” Spencer says. “Easier if you're smaller. Like a water strider.” 

There's a silence. Morgan is aghast, you think. You're in love. 

“Yeah?” you ask, stars in your eyes as his own spark to life. 

“Because water strider's can transfer their weight, but also due to their hydrofuge hairpiles. Their microhairs.” He catches himself, measuring your expression carefully. “Did you really wanna know?” 

“Do you wanna get a cup of coffee and tell me about it?” you ask. 

His lips part as yours had when you first saw him. 

He's prevented from answering as Hotch's office door opens and the man himself walks out near the railing. “Good, you’re here. I have something to talk to you about.” 

You grin at him. “I'd love to chat, Agent Hotchner, but I'm getting to know your new protégé.”

“I see.” He waits. 

You would ignore him —Hotch has a soft spot for you (or rather, he likes you enough to put up with you, which is more than can be said about other members of his division) and he'd shrug off your dismissal— but you're really keen to hear what he has to say. Perhaps Strauss has changed her mind about your proposed trail basis with the team. 

“I'm so sorry,” you say to Spencer, immediately re-dazzled by his pretty, lovely face. “It was really nice to meet you, Spencer Reid. Maybe next time you can tell me more about it.” 

You give Morgan a quick thank you for the help with your paperwork and trust him to log out of your emails. In your rush up the stairs, you hear a wisp of conversation. 

“Was she messing with me?” 

Morgan laughs. “No, kid. That's how she is.” 

"Oh... She's nice."

"You have no idea."

[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING REWARDED !!! LANDO N. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: at the night of his first win, lando gave his sweet girl a reward for being his ‘lucky charm.’

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), miami gp 2024 spoilers (ish), standard smut, anal play if you blink, praise kink, titfucking, body worship-esque

note: this could’ve been published an hour after the race but i got busy. it didn’t eat as much but enjoy xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

lando’s partner wasn’t shy. she was just… reserved in the sweetest way possible. that’s what he loved about her. no amount of words could express how beautiful she was. her curves, her lips, her everything? 

god lando was fucking in love with her.

anyone in miami might assume that she was feeling hot due to the sweltering weather. sure. 

but lando knew the difference between the heat in her face when she’s under the sunny weather and when he whispers praises in her ears.

and he certainly knew what the heat rising in her cheeks meant when he had his hand between her thighs.

“lando…” she murmured softly, her face becoming hotter by than it was as lando hovered over her, “i- i-“

“shh…” lando tutted her with a smirk, “‘s okay, darling. ‘s just us.”

“i know,” she whispered back, “b- but you’re supposed to be celebrating tonight.”

“i told the boys i’m not showing up,” lando said, his hands were getting too generous for his touches to be just ‘teasing.’ 

lando won today. surely he can be something beyond generous, right? he got what he wanted for a long time, a long awaited victory.

it was only fair that his sweet girl got the brunt of that victory, too.

his lips attached themselves on her ear and nipped on it, eliciting a soft moan from her. pressing another kiss on her earlobe, lando whispered, “told them i’m too busy loving on my lucky charm.”

she let out a whine, her body squirming beneath lando’s towering ones while his hands slid her dress off.

she was left with nothing but a red lace knickers, her plump breasts eager to be devoured as lando growled quietly. his one hand created friction on her nipple while his mouth was attached to her other one. 

“oh,” she let out a little whimper, her back arching just at the feeling of lando’s hands and mouth all over her. “hm-“

lando’s hands worshipped her like she deserved, gliding through her curves and between her thighs. the sweet whispers of, “lando” continued to escape her mouth. 

“mmm… you’re so fucking pretty, my sweet girl,” lando murmured, his hands kneading and fondling her tits. “such good fucking tits, too.

precum leaked out of lando’s cock, his mind already feeling foggy with the thought of feeling her writhe beneath him. 

“you don’t mind me fucking these tits, do you?” lando taunted her, knowing that she would say yes anyway. “can i fuck these tits, baby? hm?”

lando could have cum right there as his half-lidded eyes were trained on her flustered face. the woman didn’t show how excited she was, but she sure wanted him as much. 

she bit her lip and nodded, her tits splayed out in the open. she held her breasts and squeezed them together.

lando grinned, moving up on the mattress with his cock gliding through her tits. lando let out a guttural groan, watching the tip of his cock disappearing each time he slid. 

she whimpered, enjoying the sight of lando on top of her. 

“fuck,” he cursed, thrusting his cock between her breast while she whined. “so good for me, baby. god, fuck. you’re gonna make me cum hard.” 

“oh god…”

and if fucking her tits wasn’t any better, seeing the top of her tongue lick his moving cock became nothing but a cherry on top. 

sure his first victory in miami was an achievement, but god his girlfriend was a delightful sight to see when she begged to be fucked too. 

“hngh- oh god,” she whined lewdly, already too fucked out after her third orgasm of the night. from behind, lando watched himself glisten and slide out with her wetness coating his cock. 

“so good f’me, darling,” lando crooned softly, thrusting into her wet cunt slowly. 

she didn’t respond with anything but a muffled mewl, clutching the sheets drenched with the mess she made.

“ohhhh god fuck!” lando let out, his pace getting faster as her walls clenched around his girth. 

“oh my god,” she whined, “so good, so good. fuck!~”

“such a good girl,” lando praised her, his hand snaking between her thighs to rub her clit. “let it out baby. you’re such a good girl.”

“i’m gonna cum again,” she stammered, her body squirming and writhing while being caged by lando. she could crawl away, her legs shaking vigorously as she felt her orgasm approach. 

lando’s other hand glided on her ass, his thumb toying with her puckered hole as he muttered, “mmm… look at this hole of yours.”

“so tight and all,” lando commented, lust evident on his tone, “you’re gonna let me fuck this one of these days, aren’t you?”

“ngh-“

“yes?” lando chuckled darkly, “i know you said yes before. but…

“i want you to cum again,” lando whispered, his hand reaching up to tug on her hair. “cum on my cock darling. cum all over my cock.”

lando might be the victorious one today, sure, but nobody deserves a reward more than she did. 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[supercutszns]

twin beads | luke castellan

wc + pairing: 6.7k, luke x daughter of poseidon! reader

synopsis: you’ve been unclaimed for five years. you’ve loved your best friend even longer. the sea used to be your greatest solace, but after percy jackson comes to camp, it’s your cruelest reminder. (based on this ask!)

warnings: best friends to lovers <3, percy/reader sibling dynamic, fluff and angst then fluff again, hurt/comfort, shameless making out. sorry this one is so long but besties to lovers is my lifeblood!!! i get so attached!! designated song is true blue by boygenius:)

i. you said you wanted to feel alive, so we went to the beach

“Ahoy, sailor!”

The familiar voice ricochets across the lake. You turn, leaving glimmers of sun behind you as you stare back at the docks of Camp Half-Blood. An orange blob with a curly mop of hair is beckoning you. You laugh, wave back at him, and plunge into the water. It cools your face after staying above the surface for so long—you just love watching the light reflected off the waves. But the second you’re under the water, the soreness in your muscles, the heat on your face, the exhaustion from treading for so long, are washed away from you. You swim with precision and vigor, relishing the feel of the river cupping your limbs to spur you forward. Not to sound lame, but you fucking love swimming. 

But maybe not as much as you love your best friend. 

He laughs when your head pops out of the water at the edge of the dock. “Wow, that took you longer than usual,” he teases, brown eyes glinting in the dawn. “You getting sloppy?”

You huff, splashing some water up at him but it barely touches him. “I’m tired, you moron. I’ve been out there for an hour.”

Luke leans down at the edge of the dock, offering you a hand. His face is bemused when you latch onto him, and with a good flex of his bicep he pulls you up. “All right, c’mon,” he grunts.

All your energy evaporates the second your body’s out of the water. You’re far too lazy to be graceful, so you sprawl out onto the dock like a dying fish, letting the sun kiss every inch of you. “Eww,” Luke giggles overtop you, prodding your side with the tip of his shoe. “Get up, you mermaid.” 

“Make me, you mailman.”

Your arm drapes over your eyes, and you sigh. There really is nothing better than these moments; droplets of water soaking into your skin after an early morning swim, your best friend right beside you. 

He keeps nudging you with your shoe, over and over until your ribs start to hurt. You groan, swatting him away and stretching out your limbs with a groan, letting them pop and relax, until you blearily make your way to your feet. 

“You forgot your towel again,” Luke condones, but like always, he’s brought one for you. 

He goes through a practiced routine of drying you off, wrapping the towel around your shoulders and down your arms, across your back, scrunching the water out of your hair. It doesn’t matter how cold the water gets—this part always makes you warm. 

“Thanks,” you smile as he hands the towel off to you. “Anything interesting happen this morning, O Captain, my captain?”

“Not yet, sailor, sir,” he replies in a stuffy, gruff voice the two of you have joked around with since you were kids. “Just grabbing you for breakfast.”

You giggle, following him past the docks and to the shore. Once you’ve grabbed all your stuff, you both fall in stride and head towards your cabin, your twin five-beaded necklaces hanging over your shirts. 

Five years ago, when you got to Camp for the first time, you were as big a loser as any. You were bad at everything—everything—and had no real friends until you accidentally whacked some other friendless loser in the head with an oar when you were about to go canoeing. Luke got mad at you, but his little sister Annabeth was even more furious. He offered to be your partner for the day anyway. You’ve been partners ever since. 

Over the years the two of you have grown in status at the camp, more so Luke than you. He’s an excellent cabin leader and by far the greatest swordsman in camp. You, still unclaimed, have found solace in giving younger campers swimming lessons and wading out there on your own till you get sunstroke. (It’s happened a few times. Luke is never pleased, but also refuses to let the Apollo campers take care of you. He nurses you back to health with ice cream and horrible gossip.)

But every night you return to the Hermes cabin with a hollowness in your chest. One bunk emptied, then immediately filled. You’ve had the same one for five years, and the only condolence is that it’s right next to Luke’s, and sometimes you spend hours at night making faces at each other till your laughter endangers other people’s sleep. 

Yes, you love the water at Camp Half-Blood, but you love Luke most. 

Rumours of a new kid are rustling at camp. You haven’t seen him, but you’re just dying to get in on the gossip. Apparently he slayed a minotaur. Apparently Annabeth has seen him. And apparently he’s unclaimed. You hate to admit it, but this is the most exciting news you’ve heard in weeks!

Your afternoon is spent giving some swimming lessons and taking some Demeter campers canoeing. (Some of them freak out on the water. so it’s a nice challenge to untangle the sea plants they get hooked around their boat.) It feels like you’ve been here forever. A break is in desperate demand right now. 

You have no idea what kind of God heard your prayers, but your fellow counsellor has an unimpressed look on her face when she taps you on the shoulder and goes, “Your friend’s calling you.” 

The way she says it is almost degrading. You turn to look back at the shore to see the dark curly hair you’d spot a mile away. Next to him is a much shorter orange blob, shuffling awkwardly as Luke attempts to flag you down. Score!

You shoot an apologetic look at her. “Uh … I’ll be right back.” You wince, already disposing of your baggy orange shirt (it’s Luke’s) with your bathing suit underneath. 

“No you won’t,” she says dryly. “Just go.”

You flash a smile you hope is loaded with charm, and you’re off into water. As you swim, the only thing on your mind is I really really hope that’s the new kid, and I wonder what Luke’s face looks like right now. (He’s probably grinning, eyes crinkled at the sides as he tries to follow your figure beneath the waves. Maybe he’s doing that cute thing where his head tilts to the side as he watches.) 

When you’re close enough to the shore, you come out of the water, wringing your hair. “Hey, guys!�� It’s Luke, Chris, and some blonde kid you’re sure is the new one. “What’s up?”

Luke is about to say something, then he frowns. “Where’s my shirt?”

“Left it in the canoe, I’ll go back for it later,” you reply, limply gesturing behind you. 

“And where’s your towel?”  

“Okay, I did bring one this time!” You counter. “I just gave it to a little Ares kid ‘cause she forgot hers.” 

Luke clicks his tongue, shakes his head at you, but of course he’s got one in his hands so what’s the worry? He’s endearingly amused when you take the cloth and dry yourself off, and the new boy, having watched this all raptly, widens his eyes and drawls, “Ohhhh, so you’re his gi—”

“This is Camp’s resident mermaid, Percy.” Chris butts in, adding your name almost as an afterthought. 

After you fasten your towel around you, you’re put off by Percy’s scrutinizing stare. “Look, it’s been a pretty weird day so I cannot tell if you’re joking or not.” 

“I’m not a mermaid,” you snipe, throwing Chris a dirty look. “People just call me that because I give swimming lessons here.” You stick your hand out to the blonde boy. “Nice to meet you, Percy.” 

He gives a polite nod, a little awkward. “Right back at ya.” The two of you study each other as you shake. He’s young, probably about twelve, a smatter of freckles across his face. His eyes look like the lake. Something itches in the back of your brain. There’s a moment where the shake is suspended, neither of you have let go but are no longer actively holding on, and you see it in his face that he’s studying you, too. Huh.

The conversation continues as normal, but you almost start to feel queasy for a second. “We’re trying to find something Percy’s good at,” Luke says with a pat on Percy’s shoulder. “You got any ideas?”

“Yes, please, because I really would like to have a word with my father,” Percy clips. “Is Glory, like, purely a skill thing or can I get some if I tie someone else’s shoes or something?” 

“I don’t have shoes,” you add unhelpfully. 

“It’s okay, dude,” Luke squeezes Percy’s shoulder. “Camp is great, no matter where you end up.”

Even if you’re like her, he means without saying. Even if you don’t end up anywhere. 

You meet Luke’s eyes. This is a kid that wants so badly to meet his father, to ease the ache inside him. You are the absolute worst person for this. One of the longest current unclaimed streaks and your ache remains. To Percy, you’re the biggest example of a failure there is, and Luke is only just now realizing it. 

“Maybe try the infirmary?” You pipe, shuffling back and forth on the sand. “You might have a knack for medicine.”

“Doubt it,” Percy swallows. “But yeah, okay. Who’s your parent, again?”

Percy can’t see it, but Luke and Chris send you a shifty look and all you can do is widen your eyes to be like, Help! Don’t make me crush his dreams! I don’t want another kid to hate me! 

You swallow. No matter how fast you think, you cannot come to a logical sentence. “I, uh—”

Just then, in another stroke of luck (wow, that’s two more than usual) an Athena counsellor that looks insanely disgruntled is running towards you. “Stolls put spiders in our cabin again,” he heaves once at a stop. “Please get rid of them.”

“Can’t you just squash ‘em?” Percy asks. 

“Not the spiders, the twins.” 

Chris is already nodding, but Luke looks to you first. He’s anxious, disappointed. You wish you could smooth out the creases in his brow with your thumb. “Don’t worry,” you stretch out a smile. “I’ll chill with Percy. It won’t take you guys too long.”

He’s still hesitant. You’re not sure this is a good call either. But he reaches out, quickly squeezes your shoulder and mutters, “Thank you.” Your skin feels gooey when he touches it. 

His signature roguish smile returns as he looks back to Percy. The side of his face is shadowed by the sun so well it makes you jealous. “Don’t give her a hard time, eh?” He reprimands playfully. 

Percy smiles a little. “I’ll try not to.”

You are once again reminded just how easy it is to love Luke. How effortlessly he moves into your heart. It happened to you after you slapped him with an oar. It’s already happening to Percy.

You’re sure he won’t like you nearly half as much. 

After Luke and Chris leave, Percy resigns to staring out at the campers canoeing on the lake. Maybe now is a good time to admit you’re not good with kids. Luke has tried many times to make you his welcome partner, but you can’t take to the role nearly as well. You’re perpetually antsy. And sweaty. 

“So, what cabin are you a part of that lets you do this all day?” Percy asks, squinting against the sun. 

Your heart gets heavy. With a sigh, you sit yourself down, and Percy soon follows. “Hermes, actually,” you say as casually as you can. 

Percy goes pale as a sheet. “Uh, what?”

“I’m unclaimed,” you clarify. “I don’t … I don’t have a parent.”

There’s always a pitiful pause whenever a camper figures that out. This one is somehow … clunkier. “Oh,” Percy says. “Oh. Okay, that makes sense. For a second I thought—phew.” Then his eyes trail down to the thread hooked around your fingers, the five beads you run your thumb over. “How long have you been here?”

“Five long, blissful years,” you hum dryly. 

Water ripples over pebbles on the shore. Every new camper’s ambition is eroded by the truth you represent. Percy’s no different. His brows furrow and his face falls. “And you’ve never been claimed?” He asks, and you can feel the noxious mix of pity, confusion and despair laced beneath it. 

You shake your head, watching some Demeter kids splashing each other’s canoes with their oars. “Nope. But it’s not so bad. I like my cabin, you know? I like my life. Doesn’t really matter who your parents are anyway, I think. You do the same activities as everyone else, just on different teams.”

“But doesn’t it make you mad?”

“It used to,” you shrug, “But not anymore. It’s just …” You sigh, rolling a bead against your thumb. “If I’m unclaimed, I’m unclaimed. That’s the way it is. You can’t force the Gods to do anything.” 

“That’s what Luke said,” Percy remarks, almost bitterly. 

“I’m a rare case though, Percy,” you half-lie to him, nudging him a bit with your shoulder. “You’ll get claimed. It’s your first day. And until then you’re kind of free to be whatever. You don’t have to fit into anything, which is kinda nice, and you can screw around as much as you want and nobody can really get mad at you ‘cause you’re new.” A smile rises on your face. “And I heard you killed a minotaur, so you’ve already got some cool points.”

His face screws up in a grimace, and it makes you laugh. “Oh joy, cool points. Can’t live without those.”

Okay, maybe you’re not bad with kids. Maybe you’re just bad with boring kids. Because this is going decent, right? 

“What if I don’t get claimed, though?” Percy asks after a moment, a vulnerable note eclipsing him. It resonates inside your chest. You pause for a moment, heaving a loaded breath. 

“Do you fart a lot in your sleep?”

His melancholy pauses. He looks at you like you’ve grown another head. “Uh … what? No? I think?”

“Then you can take the bunk above mine if you want. It’s empty now,” you say. “And if you’re never claimed you can come swimming with me, and we can find seashells to put under Luke’s pillow every night until he starts thinking they’ve always been there.”

Percy blinks. “Do you have any friends?”

“Yes, and I’m going to torture him until I die. Cabin eleven is oodles of fun, Percy, you’ll see!”

He looks a little horrified. “Luke said I was going to like you,” he mutters. “I … am not sure if he’s right.”

Oh, well. You’ll take it. 

ii. you can't help but become the sun

You can’t sleep, and Luke knows it. His eyes burn into the side of your face as you stare up at your bunk. You sneak him a look. He smiles ruefully. Sweeping his arm up from beneath his covers, a makeshift tent is formed next to him. He nods to you. Before you know it, you’ve abandoned your own bed, taking a single step until you skirt into the pocket of his mattress Luke has carved for you. He lets the sheets fall, cocooning you with him the way he always does. 

You’ve been sharing beds on occasion for years. One of you gets cold, has a nightmare, or wants to talk until your mind fades out, the only solution is a place next to each other. Whispers against cheeks, giggles muffled into pillows, necklaces knocking together. You used to be further apart. Now you can’t remember the last time Luke hasn’t latched onto you the second you’re within reach. It warms you a little more each time. 

When your head hits his pillow, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment, lips pursed in amusement. His face is so wildly nostalgic to you—five years seems like too short a time to have known him. His eyes are pitch-dark and soft with exhaustion, but you can still pick out the trademark Hermes mirth glimmering through. You sometimes forget his scar, probably because you know he wants you to forget it. He’d kill you for thinking this, but you kind of like the way it hugs the curve of his cheek, bunches up when his dimple appears. It makes you sad. It makes you happy. It makes you love him. 

“Percy likes you,” he whispers, opening himself up so your chin brushes his shoulder. “That’s a first.”

He’s only wearing a tank top to sleep, so his warmth seeps through his skin when you tap him on the chest. “Shut up!” You hiss back, tapering into a giggle. “Has he picked up on anything yet?”

Luke bites the inside of his cheek, regretfully shaking his head. “Nope. But all that skill stuff is kinda arbitrary anyways. He’s still hung up on kleos, though, so … that’ll come in handy for Capture the Flag.”

“Ah, yes. Using a child’s misguided need for fulfilment as a weapon. A camp classic.” 

“Well someone’s gotta be useful for Capture the Flag in this cabin and it sure as hell isn’t you, mermaid,” he barbs back. 

Your jaw drops in mock offense and you squeeze a hand around his shoulder to shake him. “I will put you in a headlock right now, Luke, I’ll break your arm—”

“Be quiet!” He giggles as you attempt to wrangle yourself on top of him. “I’ll be nice to you, I’ll be nice, stop!” You get absolutely nowhere before the bed creaks and Luke shoves you back down. Your pulse rattles through your mouth as you laugh silently. “You’re the worst,” he mutters in your ear, raising the hairs on your neck.

“Well Percy likes me, so,” you turn your nose to the sky like a haughty old lady. 

“Percy’s a funnier, less annoying version of you,” he pokes your side. “That’s how I knew you’d get along, you weirdo.”

The momentary adrenaline this conversation has brought you is mellowing. “Hey, I’m very—very funny,” you mumble through a yawn. 

Luke laughs quietly. “Sure you are.”

He pulls you back to him, arm slung around the dip of your waist. When you make no protest, he seals you against his shoulder again. It’s started to feel a little different, him holding you like this. There’s an uncertainty your body faces about how to respond. His thumb runs over your spine and you decide to relax into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. Your chin knocks against his collarbone and you have the urge to curl yourself against his chest, just to feel him breathe. 

“Get some sleep, sailor,” he murmurs, fingers brushing through the roots of your hair. You don’t think he realizes he’s doing it. Your cheeks warm, and you bury yourself even further into the space against his shoulder and his pillow. Gods, there’s something wrong with you, isn’t there?

“Will do, soldier.” The campy voice you do is half hearted at best as you find yourself absorbed in the closest thing to a full home you’ll ever get. In this sleepy hollow with bedsheets and a boy, there is acceptance. 

Well, mostly. You think you dream about Luke brushing a kiss along your hairline in your last bit of consciousness. You think you wish it was real. You think you want him to do it again.   

iii. when you don't know who you are, you fuck around and find out

The last time your cabin lost a game of Capture the Flag, you’d still been taller than Luke. That’s how long your winning streak has felt. There’s no reason you foresee that changing today. Even when Annabeth drags Percy along with her on whatever surely precarious quest to victory she’s created. It’s unlike her, to bring a newbie along. It’s concerning. 

“He’s fine,” Luke drawls to you when your face has been tense for twenty minutes. “Annabeth’s got a plan.” He’s a little winded after clearing out some Ares kids with Chris. You aren’t much use when it comes to weapons—your friends take the lead as you wait from a distance, ready for backup. Thank the Gods they didn’t need it this time. You’re content to just watch, but whenever Luke grins after getting another kid to surrender, veins in his arms raised like rivers on a map, you get a little distracted and you’re not sure why. 

You just huff back at him, totally normal when he wipes a sheen of sweat off his jaw. “Annabeth’s gonna use him as cannon fodder,” you mutter back, and Luke hits your arm with an appalled grin. 

Annabeth did, in fact, have a plan. So you won. Obviously. 

You’re still doubtful Percy wasn’t cannon fodder, though, with how beat up he looks on the shoreline when the rest of your team flocks to the stolen flag to claim victory. He’s slumped down on the rocky shore, a few equally beaten Ares kids straggling away from him. 

“So I was right, huh?” Luke hums in your ear, pulling your eyes to him. 

He’s revelling in newfound glory, and damn it, you get confused when you look at him when he’s like this. You’re not sure when it happened but you want to tear your heart out of its chest because of how sick it makes you. Some of his curls are stuck to his forehead with sweat, his hair suffering a serious case of helmet-head. But it’s the pride oozing off him, the infectious happiness laced through his smile, that makes you fond of him in a way you’re not sure you should be. He’s beloved for a reason—he looks almost prophetic after winning a match, and he knows it. A glaring difference between the gangly boy you met all those summers ago. If you weren’t his best friend, you’d probably be one of his many admirers, watching his teammates fawn over his talent and wishing you were beside him. 

But you are beside him. And you’re his friend. Not an admirer. So everything’s fine. 

“You wouldn’t be saying that if we lost,” you retort, knocking your chestplate against his. It’s meant to be a friendly nudge, but Luke leans into it until you swear you feel his heart beating through the metal. 

He’s grown into his smile, less boyish and more wry. “You know I never lose, sailor.” 

You want to reply, but his eyes are startlingly pretty in the sunlight. That’s normal. Whatever. A heat rises in the apples of your cheeks so you scoff lightly and turn away as soon as possible. You feel Luke’s gaze following as you turn attention elsewhere. Your sternum feels fluttery.

Percy catches your attention again. Gods, he looks beat. He’s talking to Annabeth as she helps him up, and you see the gnarly scrape marring his cheek. You should probably check on him, right? 

You’re halfway to the kids when Annabeth shoves Percy backwards into the water. Like, shoves. 

“Annabeth!” You’re scowling at her the same way she scowled at you when you first hit Luke with that oar, rushing over to help Percy. 

“What is wrong with you?” Percy sputters out lying in the lake, but you’re ankles-deep in the water before you know it. He’s glaring daggers at Annabeth, but she looks relatively unimpressed. What happened during this game? 

“Thanks,” Percy mutters as you help him up. 

You say something to shrug it off but you can’t remember what, because your eyes are drawn to the scrape on his cheek. You have to blink a few times to get it, but you’re pretty sure it’s dissolving. Vanishing off his skin. “What the hell?”

Everyone on the shore is watching him now, trying to memorize his injuries before they wash away. Percy’s staring down at himself like he’s just been body-swapped. “I don’t understand.” 

You’ve never seen anything like this before. The strangest feeling fuels you—your bones feel firmer somehow, like the blood inside your body has weight to it. Like something is happening. A fear pierces your gut. 

Annabeth’s eyes have raised, and so have Percy’s. Your mouth goes dry. Right above him is the symbol of a trident, radiating so blue it washes out the sky itself. 

The claiming symbol of Poseidon. 

“Your dad’s calling,” Annabeth says, a smile itching the corners of her mouth. 

Percy looks like he’s going to pass out. You probably do too. “Told you you’d get claimed,” you manage to squeeze the words through the knot in your chest. 

You’re smiling until Percy looks at you, then looks up. His face goes white as a sheet. Or, as white as it can bathed in a pale blue glow. “Uh…” He blinks slowly, and your stomach twists. “I think she was talking to you.”

When you look up and see an identical trident looming over your head, you know something’s wrong. It’s made worse when Chiron rings out your and Percy’s name, branding you as children of Poseidon. 

Poseidon. 

You have a father. And he’s known you all this time. Your ears hollow out like a rush of water in a cavern.

Luke is the first to kneel. The rest of the camp follows. You watch as the entire camp basks in the glory of newcomer Percy Jackson, so quickly claimed by one of the most powerful Gods of Olympus. And you, who has waited five years to earn even a shred of his favour. 

This thing you’ve wanted for so long is suddenly the greatest insult in the world. Your best friend can’t even meet your eyes. 

iv. i remember who i am when i'm with you

You stare at Percy as he unpacks his things. Waiting to see traces of yourself in his face, traces of your father. Anything that could give you an inkling of what he looks like. Of what you look like. Of how this happened in the first place. 

It’s a futile search. Percy’s blue eyes, his freckles, the bridge of his nose, they’re all … nothing. Half of you is half of him, but there’s no indication of which parts. The cabin is cold. You’re not going to sleep well without Luke nearby. You’re not going to sleep well ever again. 

You feel nothing but strife, your throat closing in every time you take even a second to think. You don’t want Percy to see you cry. So you do what you always do. 

This has to be in the running for most overwhelming day of all time ever. Even when submerged in your favourite place on earth, you can’t get away from your dad. Your dumb stupid dad that has made the things you love and has ruined your life. 

You swim hard, and you loathe how good it feels. At least you know why now, but that doesn’t do much to ease you. When you pop up again, the sun has started to sink into the sea. And Gods, you have to give your dad credit. The landscape is so gorgeous you almost forget how long he’s ignored you. 

You wonder if this is the last time you’ll find solace in the lake. If eventually, it’ll be nothing but an extension of your father’s neglect. 

The water ripples around you. You frown, barely having noticed it when someone taps your shoulder. You turn. “Luke?” You swallow, but why are you surprised? 

He’s panting, cheeks splotched with sun as he treads water, droplets worming down his face from his soaking curls. “Been looking for you,” he puffs, “Percy’s worried. Called you from the—from the thingie but don’t think you heard me.”

You assume he means the docks, but you don’t say anything as he takes a deep, grounding breath. “You’ve been out here for hours. Hours. For a second I thought you drowned.”

“Now we know that can’t fucking happen,” you mutter a touch too bitterly, staring down at your legs warped beneath the water. 

Luke’s silent as he watches you. “…Have you been crying?”

When you don’t reply, Luke tugs on your wrist. “C’mon, sailor, let’s go.”

“Not tired,” you say, frozen by the hot tears brimming on your lashes. 

“I’m not leaving you out here. Come on.” He frowns when you yank your hand away as he tries pulling you again. “You’re gonna get heatstroke.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.”

He reaches for you again and you try to reject it for a moment, but he’s stronger than you, and he loves you better than even the water could. The second he has you close your resolve falters. He holds you against his shoulder, knees knocking against yours as you tread. 

“It’s okay,” he croons when you involuntarily start to cry. For a Poseidon kid, you can’t seem to control your waterworks. “It’s okay, I know.”

His hand cards through your scalp and you relish in the warmth of his bare skin on your cheek. He smells like comfort. You cling to it with all you have, until your nails start to dig into his skin and your eyesight blurs. 

“Come back with me and I’ll dry you off, okay?” He kisses the top of your head, the way you dreamed it last night. “I’ll take care of it.”

You’re not sure which it he’s referring to, because it could honestly apply to anything. When you both set off for shore, you’re so distracted by your own misery that Luke’s actually able to keep up with you. He’s up on the dock before you so he can pull you out. 

The second you’re out of the water you feel like you’ve been gutted with a lead pipe. All the energy it gave you leaves, and you realize just how right Luke was about spending too much time out there. You can’t feel your legs. 

You buckle over almost instantly, but Luke holds you before you can even think of falling. “I’ve got you,” he assures, guiding you down to sit on the dock. Your eyes are too weak to even admire the sunset. Luke drapes a towel over your shoulders, rubbing it over your arms, a welcome familiarity. He takes his time, wringing your hair and drying your back as you gaze blankly ahead. There’s a tenderness to it now. Luke’s ruthless when it comes to a lot of things. When it comes to how he loves, too. But there’s nothing demanding here. He lets your tears fall in silence, undisturbed, the touch of his hands through the cloth a silent promise. 

When you’re fairly dry, he fetches something then quickly comes back. “Here.”

It’s his shirt. You only notice you’ve been shivering as he pulls it over your head, lets you fill in the sleeves, gently gathers your hair back. “Thanks,” you say. His fingertips brush your neck as he hooks them around your necklace to rest it over the shirt. You think he does it to remind you you’re still the same. You’ve had five years together. It doesn’t have to end now. 

“Why did it take him so long?” You struggle to say, eyes glossed like sea glass. “Why—why now? What did I do?”

Luke puts an arm around you. “I don’t know,” he mumbles honestly. 

You sink into his warmth like a wave meets the shore. “Five years, Luke. He ignored me for five years. And he takes Percy right—right away.” It’s hard not to choke between every word. “I just thought I’d never get claimed, and I was fine with that, and now I’m … this!”

Its hard to tell if the dampness of your cheeks are the remnants of saltwater or your tears. “I don’t want this,” you sniffle. “I waited so long … and I just don’t want it.”

Luke rubs your shoulder, lips pursed against your head. He murmurs into your hair, “I know, sailor. It’ll be okay. Promise.”

His voice is reserved. You look up at him. His jaw is resolute, his eyes red-rimmed in a way you hadn’t noticed before. “You’re upset too,” you comment quietly. 

He laughs listlessly. “Yeah, of course I am. I’m losing my favourite cabin mate.”

You sniff and try to smile. “Percy?”

He rolls his eyes fondly, and it feels like all you want. He squeezes your shoulders tight and you long desperately to be closer. “I just don’t know what I did wrong,” you whisper, pressing your cheek into him. “Why didn’t he see me until he saw Percy? Am I just … unremarkable or something?”

“No, no. Absolutely not—c’mere.” Luke loops an arm around your waist and manoeuvres you into his arms, cradled on his lap so you can bury your face in his neck. You can’t stop fucking crying, but his patience for you is infinite. “You are by far the most remarkable person I know.” He seals you against his chest, scratching your scalp the way he knows you like. “None of this is you, okay? Your dad’s an idiot. You are—you’re everything. They’re all mindless up there, they don’t know how to love you. They don’t deserve to.”

An edge seeps into his timbre that gives you pause. You feel weak, discarded. It sounds like he’s talking about a different person. But he’s right. He has to be, because he knows you better than you know yourself.

Luke keeps going. You peek at his face when he speaks. Stubborn as ever. “He doesn’t have any fucking right to you. If he wanted that he should’ve claimed you when you got here. You have a life. You … you had a home. And now just because he’s got another kid he kills two birds with one stone? He pretends like this is some Godly intervention? Like he didn’t ignore you the whole time you’ve been here because he couldn’t stand how much you didn’t need him? How much better you are? You’re my …” He struggles, brows furrowed, the sun melting in his eyes. “You’re my best friend, and we’re supposed to be together. He’s not allowed to take that from you.”

Your heart stirs. “Sounds like you’re jealous,” you try to tease.

Luke heaves a sigh, his muscles rippling against your chest. You’re suddenly aware of the fact that he’s got no shirt on. And that he’s pressed against you in a way that makes you question if you should be this close. Beads of water cling to the divots in his skin, and you linger a little too long on one nestled in his collarbone. You swear you think this every time he goes swimming with you: when did he get so … hot? And every time you think it, you want to gouge your heart out with a spoon. 

“Can you blame me?” A melancholy smile plays on his face. “I liked having you all to myself.”

Tears spring to your eyes all over again. “I liked that too.”

It’s a whisper that sends you forward, Luke bringing his forehead to your own, and you want to live in the warmth that coils through you. His nose catches against yours when he laughs, but he doesn’t move. You take a moment to savour it. You think he does too.

He wipes a tear off your face as you say, “I’m still yours.”

“Yeah?” Luke hums a bit, his hand sliding up your waist in a most unfriendly manner. “How?” 

You catch the glimmer in his eyes, that plucky smile he’s had since fourteen. Something shifts.

“What are you asking me, Luke?” You can’t fight the smile. 

“What do you want me to ask you?”

“I dunno, what do you want me to want you to ask you—”

“My Gods, you’re a pain in the ass.”

He groans, throws his head back, and kisses you like you aren’t the most annoying person in the world. 

It’s so cliché, but for a brief moment your strife is well worth it. You yank him closer before he pulls away. It’s a little unsure, the two of you so used to toeing the line, but soon you’ve given in and your hands are in his hair, mouths parting, and it’s messy and wanting and everything you need. 

Luke slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt, palms flattening against your sun-beaten skin. It feels so good, better because the shirt is already his, a whine scratching your throat as he moves up so his thumbs graze the skin beneath the tie in your bathing suit. 

“Oh, sailor,” he coos against your mouth. You want to retaliate but it’s lost when he squeezes your thighs, warming you in all the right places. It’s hard to understand this is even happening—it feels like you’re underwater, a blissful fuzziness growing in your head entirely at his mercy. 

He razes kisses down your still-damp neck, catching pearls of water on his tongue. You cling to his shoulders, raking your hands down his back just so you can feel more of him. Luke’s dropped down to your collarbone at this point, tugging the neck of your shirt down as his teeth graze the bone. “You’re my best friend,” he mutters over your skin. “Still mine. Always mine.”

“Mmhm,” is all you can say back, the husk in his voice making your eyes screw shut. He teases a spot so sensitive you groan and laugh at the same time. The regret is immediate, but you feel a chuckle pass his lips, too. “Luke,” you purse a smile. He dots kisses back up your neck until you start returning the favour. 

You kiss his jaw, a few spots on his neck, feeling the flex of his muscle all around you as he squeezes the fat of your hips. You finally sweep up the water in the hollow of his collarbones, and his grunt of your name makes you, frankly, delirious. 

He brings your mouth back to his, skin sticking to each other. It’s harder to kiss as fervently when you’re both giggling against each other’s tongues, running fingers along the planes of each other’s bodies trying to see which places feel new and which are known from memory. It’s a fifty-fifty split, and you love it. 

Somewhere along the way he peeled off your shirt because it was clinging in places you knew he wanted, but now you’re panting and giggling into his hair, his nose pressed into your neck, both of you melded together with salt and sun. “You really know how to cheer a girl up, mailman,” you grin. 

His lips fix to your skin. “Really? You’re still gonna call me that right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Like it better when you call me captain,” he murmurs, nose grazing along your pulse. 

You swallow, “That doesn’t work unless we’re doing the whole sailor-ship bit.”

“We’re always doing the sailor-ship bit.”

“I seriously can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

He sighs warmly at the words. “You have no idea how much I’ve been dying for you to say that. Even though I knew you would.”

You roll your eyes as he presses his forehead to yours, and you’re more glad than ever that his face is the one you love so much. It’s a pretty great face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he says tenderly. “You’re too incredible for Poseidon. You’re worth more than that.”

He still looks gorgeous blurred by your tears. You listen to the beat of his heart and the waves rolling. “More than any water anywhere?”

“More than the fucking Styx, sailor. I’ll promise you that.”

That night, Luke stays with you and Percy in your cold chapel of a cabin. You exchange stories until Percy falls asleep in his bed, curled up like a sea otter. “He’s a drooler,” Luke notes fondly, eyes flicking to yours. “Like you.”

You shove his chest playfully until he wraps his arms around you and anchors you to sleep, like every night before. This time, as you drift off, he kisses your forehead again. Once because he loves you, and twice to make sure you know it’s real. 

luke taglist: @sunniskyies @apollos-calliope @lillycore @sunny747 @m00ng4z3r @pabkeh @thaliagracesgf @theadventuresofanartist @bonnie-tz @ash-williamsss @sucker-4-angst @kitkat-writes-stuff @too-deviant

let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!

[peachesofteal]

Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: discussion of past abuse, Simon’s trauma Request: take your baby to work day

You're wide eyed at the front door.

"You sure you guys will be alright?" Your voice is clear, but your hand trembles on the door handle, bottom lip tugged across your teeth.

"We'll be okay sweetheart. But if you're uncomfortable, or it's too much, you should take him-"

"No, no. I'm fine. You're not supposed to bring the baby to OB appointments anyway. It's frowned upon." You roll your eyes, tipping up to kiss Ry on the cheek. "Just... don't let anyone breathe on him, or kiss him, okay? His immune system is still fragile compared to ours. I packed you like, three bottles so hopefully he'll take them if he gets hungry. Text me if-"

"Mama." He holds Orion in one arm, and grabs your hand with the other. You're frightened, and stressed, and he's driven to comfort you, the need to soothe you throbbing across his skull. "I've got this. We'll be just fine. Text me when you're done. Get yourself a tea or something afterwards, alright? Everything is going to be okay." You nod.

"Right, of course. You're... you're right. And you're going to a military base, I doubt there's a safer place around."

"C'mere." He tugs you into his side, and you wrap your arms around his stomach, nestling in opposite Orion. "I need you to do something f'me."

"What?"

"I need you to swear to me you'll tell your doctor about the dizzy spells." There's been a reminder card about your twelve week postpartum appointment on the fridge for two weeks now, and after you finally confessed you have been getting dizzy since Orion was born, and one time had even fallen, he decided to skip several steps by making the appointment for you. You were... not pleased, but he made it very clear, he's not playing a game with your health. He's planning his battles strategically now, putting pieces in play slowly, working towards his larger goal, but this was something he refused to compromise on.

"Okay." You whisper, burying your face in his chest. "I will." He lands a kiss to the top of your head.

"We'll see you soon. It'll be over before you know it, and maybe we can get a takeaway for dinner?" Your lips crack into a toothy smile.

"Sounds good to me."

"Alright, lad. Let's go see daddy's team." Orion stares at him, brown eyes curious, and watchful. He’s still not used to it, this feeling. This life, with you and his baby. Everyday, he has to stop to ground himself, anchor himself. Break from the cycle of a downward spiral, obsessive thoughts playing with his mind, counting down the million and one ways he could lose you, or fail you, or both. He’s careful, he’s diligent, he’s in control. He’d never make a mistake like he did before, the error of judgement that cost him his mother, his brother and his family-

But the incessant fear never ceases.

Fortunately, his anchor now is you. You, when you let him carry you to bed, when you watch him rock Orion to sleep as you stand in the doorway, you who curls up next to him on the couch now, fingers curled into his shirt like you’re afraid he might disappear. Your touch heals. Your words comfort. He can't fathom a future without you, or Ry, now.

If he thinks back on it, he wonders if he knew all along. If all the things he felt the night he met really meant forever, just like he had wished. A fantasy turned reality-

to have and to hold.

His stomach turns, wondering if his father ever felt this, if he ever loved, or if he was always just a monster, the ouroboros of victim turned abuser, the man who terrorized his mother, his brother and himself, long past the time Simon finally tore him to pieces, cracked his ribs, beat him into the ground.

Tommy broke the cycle, and from the moment he laid eyes on his son he knew.... he would too.

Price's secretary looks like she's seen an actual ghost. "Hey, Lindsey. Is he in?" She's staring, flicking back and forth to Orion and then up to his face, mouth slightly agape.

"Y-yeah he's..." she points over her shoulder at his closed door. "Lieutenant, did you... is that... is that your baby?" He nods, mouth curving into a proud smile, stepping close enough so she can get a good look at him. She almost jerks back, clearly not used to being so close to him. He's been here and there, off and on base all week catching up on a backlog of reports, but hasn't said a word to anyone, and he keeps everyone on base at arm's length except the 141.

"It is." Her shocked expression melts, hesitantly reaching her pointer finger towards Ry, allowing him to wrap it up in his chubby little fist. "This is Orion." She smiles at him, and then the baby, kindly.

"He's beautiful." She excuses herself when the phone rings, and he settles the tension burning between his shoulder blades. He didn't mentally prepare for this moment, didn't believe he had to. The expectation of Price's acceptance was assumed but now, his trepidation is a surprise.

He told his captain he needed to take leave for something really important, but never said for what. All he told him is that he'd loop him in soon, and that he was sorry he wouldn't be available for the next op. If John was curious, he didn't let him know, didn't push him for more info, didn't pester him. He just sent the forms to Simon's email to be filled out with a postscript:

Looking forward to hearing what this is all about.

And when Simon crosses the threshold of his office, baby in one arm, backpack stuffed with nappies and bottles in the other-

John Price laughs.

It's not the huff of a chuckle that Kate usually gets out of him, or the rolling guffaw that he gives the guys sometimes when he's particularly amused.

No, this is different. It starts in his belly and then rolls upwards, all the way until his shoulders are shaking and he's wiping his eyes.

Simon scowls, and John holds both his hands up, palms out. Surrender. "This is a good enough reason as any to take a chunk of all that leave saved up." He stands, stepping around to get a closer look. "What's his name then?"

"Orion." John nods thoughtfully. The backs of his fingers brush along the baby's arm, gently, slowly, a flicker of longing, of sadness, arcing across his face before it dissipates.

"The giant hunter Zeus banished to the skies." Organized stacks of paper sit in neat little piles on top of John's desk, authorizations he'd know anywhere. They're moving out. "Where's his mum?"

"At a doctor's appointment." Orion gurgles, and Simon pats his back, bouncing him slowly from side to side.

"You with her?" The answer is immediate.

"Gonna marry her." John's eyes fill with mirth.

"But she doesn't know that yet, does she."

"No," Simon sighs, "but she will. 'ts why I needed the leave. Besides," he motions to the infant tucked in his arm, "this, helping take care of him, taking care of her, I need to get them moved to a secure location. She's in a second level flat right now, with street facing windows. It's makin' my skin itch." Price will get it, Simon knows he will understand. He has his own secret at home, tucked away in a house only Simon and Laswell know about, just in case.

"Take it slow, don't want to spook her. Although I can't imagine she's too skittish if she took you to bed." He smirks. "You've got the time you requested. Had to call in a substitute for this one, but we'll need you on the next."

"How long?"

"Five weeks, maybe more. I'll ring when we're back on base." Five weeks. The clock is ticking, a bomb waiting to detonate, a guillotine waiting to sever his time with his family, his duty dragging him away.

"Alright." He concedes. Cross that bridge when he comes to it.

If Price sees his reluctance, he doesn't comment on it. "Bird'll be here in six hours. Boys are in the rec room, if you want to see 'em." Simon nods, shifting the baby in his arms as he heads towards the door. "And Simon," he turns, locking eyes with his captain, raw emotion plain on both their faces. Price gives him a genuine smile. "Congratulations. You're going to be a great father."

There's a lump in his throat as he crosses the campus to the rec room, his nose dipping across Ry's head, breathing him in as deep as he can behind the black cloth mask. "He's gonna be your godfather, little man. We just have to get Mama to agree, don't we?" He tugs the building's door open, ignoring the streams of chatter suddenly grinding to a halt in the hallway. Once he makes it to the rec room and sees that no one else is inside, just Johnny and Gaz battling it out in an intense game of pool, he slips the mask off his face and locks the door.

Soap is the first one to see him. "Steeeamin' jesus, LT is that a bairn!?" Kyle chokes on his water.

"Is that your baby, Riley?" They both scramble forward, Johnny whistling in disbelief.

"Aye, he's got to be. Look at the size of 'im."

"Johnny." Simon gives him the 'settle down' look, but the Sergeant only grins impishly.

"He's hers, innit he?" Gaz reaches, and Orion watches him with interest. "The girl from the bar. The one who lives close to me." Johnny's eyes go wider than globes.

"Ach Ghost, ye been busy wit' that boa-"

"Johnny." He hisses, and Kyle barks a laugh, reaching. Simon doesn't balk about handing Orion over, even though you were cautious about letting other people be around him. This is his team. He trusts them implicitly.

"He's a heavy lad, isn't he?" Kyle bounces him back and forth, all the while Ry stares at him with his head tipped back, mesmerized. "Looks jus' like you."

"Maybe a wee bit more handsome." Johnny's leaning around Kyle, his hand on Ry's back. They're mooning over him, two decorated, strategically brilliant sergeants, cooing at a baby like a bunch of sooks, as Johnny would say.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, a text from you letting him know you're finished, and heading home.

>Has he eaten?

>No, hasn't seem interested.

>Thank god.

Knowing you're probably in pain makes him antsy to get back, and he glances at the guys. "You movin' out in a few hours?"

"Aye, lookin' for some sort of stolen intelligence. Shouldnae be too long. Got a rent-a-Lieutenant and everythin'. Ye'll be back for the next?"

"I will. Stay frosty out there. I expect you all back in one piece."

He triple checks the carseat, testing the straps and the strength of the seatbelt before finally deciding it's secure enough, for the hundredth time today. He takes one last look, and presses a kiss to Orion's head. "Ready, bub? Let's go home and see mama."

[buckyalpine]

I want more mob bucky teaching a shy bambi to touch him cause she’s scared and hesitant and his sweet little princess has never touched a man before, not until she met him. (Disclaimer: all consenting adults here, reader is naïve and inexperienced but absolutely wants him just as bad)

-

“Are you sure?”

“Of course Bambi” Bucky purred, keeping you in his lap while sitting in his office chair. “You’re not doing anything wrong”

“But-

Your eyes flicked to his thick erection, the bulge in his pants making your stomach flip. You’d never admit out loud how many times you’d secretly glanced over, heat pooling between your legs whenever you’d catch a glimpse of his length pressing painfully hard against his pants.

You instinctively pressed your thighs together, biting back a whimper, struggling to ignore the pulse you felt between your now very soaked folds. Your parents told you over and over again that was a no no area. No one was ever to touch you there ad you definitely were not to touch someone’s private’s.

“I was told I’m not allowed” you shyly whispered, blinking innocently.

“Not allowed to what” Bucky smirked, knowing what you were talking about but he loved to make you squirm, “what are you now allowed to do baby”

“Touch-touch you there” you stuttered out, avoiding his darkened gaze.

“Awww princess, but daddy gave you permission, remember?” His nose nudges against your cheek, “I told you you’re allowed to touch me right here baby”

He guides your hand down to his clothed cock, letting you feel how hard he is for you. He presses your shaky palm against his length, holding it there while your fingers twitch with uncertainty. What if you did something that hurt him accidentally? Bucky could see the wheels in your head turning, tilting your face to kiss your lips.

“You won’t hurt me Bambi” he cooed, working at his belt buckle, letting it hit the floor before pulling his cock out. He was so thick and leaky, his silky pink tip wet with his arousal.

“But daddyy” you whined, worried you’d do something wrong, too nervous to touch him there. “That’s- we’re not allowed to touch that place, it’s your p-

“I’ll teach you, Y’know it feels good when you touch me there, C’mon, daddy’s cock is so hard baby, stroke it better, it’ll make me feel good” He’d told you countless times he’d love when you play with his cock and no one else but you is allowed to anyway. Only his Bambi can see and touch him there. You let him wrap your hand around this throbbing length as he guides your hand up and down while keeping you on his meaty thighs, the warm skin of his cock pulsing with each stroke.

“Fuck bambi” Bucky moaned, his head hitting the head of the chair, thrusting his hips up while he helped you jerk his cock, loving the way your eyes were fixated on his length, experimentally gripping him harder, "That’s it babygirl, stroke it nice and hard”

You whimpered at his words, the combination of his heavy breaths and raspy moans making that spot between your legs throb. Which didn’t go unnoticed by him the slightest. He let go of your hand letting you take over for a bit before moving you off his lap to stand between his legs.

“Daddy?- before you could finish, he hushed you, lifting you with ease to sit on his table in front of him. “Daddy, what are you-

“Shhh baby. Why are you all squirmy, hm? Are you all wet now Bambi?”

You whined in response, torn between wishing he’d do something and feeling conflicted over if this was okay. Bucky kissed up your thigh, sensing your hesitation.

“You’re not doing anything wrong baby, let me see princess” he moved you to lie down on his table while he spread your thighs apart, pulling up the dress of your skirt to reveal your cotton panties. “You’re such a good girl” he whispered, rubbing the soaked material up and down the middle of your clothed cunt.

“You made a mess in your panties baby” Bucky smirked, pushing them aside, the sight of your soaked folds too much for him to bother with restraint. He needed your pussy fully exposed to him, pulling them down your legs and shoving your thighs apart. "Look at that Bambi, my poor baby is soaking"

You pouted at him while he groaned at your sweet scent, leaning down to part your folds, pressing a soft kiss right onto your clit making you gasp. His warm lips were soft on your most sensitive parts, the sensation addicting as he kissed you there again. "Your little button is so precious baby, are you gonna let daddy play with you there?"

"P-please" you nodded, choking on your words when he sealed his lips around your bud, suckling with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the table.

He's actually such a menace though. Cause imagine he gets you to touch his cock whenever he wants. Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. He'll push his hips forward letting you know how hard he is for you, pulling it out and helping you stroke him till he's cumming all over your hand. You're always so shy about it and he gets off on the way you try so hard to not stare even though your mouth is watering.

He plays with your clit like its his own personal toy. Whenever you're in his lap, he's sneaking his hand into your panties, rubbing lazy circles around your silky skin. Sometimes its not even fast enough to make you cum. He just loves the moans you make when he's touching you somewhere no one else is allowed to, rubbing your most intimate parts like he owns you.

Imagine the day he lets you to put your mouth on him. His precious Bambi scared to suck cock but he's there to help her, parting her little pouty lips to slip his swollen tip till it hits her throat.

Don't even get me started on the day you first have sex. How much he's gonna coddle you in bed, reassuring you theres nothing dirty about the fact that his dick is stretching your cunt apart, all while playing with your clit making you squeal. Theres nothing filthy about how much cum he's going to flood you with. Nothing debauched about the way his heavy balls hit her ass or about the way it all feels so good, he's gonna fill you up again.

"D-daddy, are you sure?"

"Very sure Bambi, you're still my good girl"

After all how can something that feels this good be wrong?

[ilygetou]

sucking satoru’s cock through his plaid pj’s </3

C/W: slight submissive satoru if you squint, he finishes fast (whoops), satoru cums in his pants, cockdrunk! reader, attempts of dirty talk, the rest is just so filthy & nasty.

NOTE. repost since tumblr decided to be my biggest opp and take it down, didn’t even bother changing the header just made a slight change to it😒

PART 2.

gojo would be sitting on the couch, leg sprawled out his arms wrapped around your body while his other hand was busy holding his phone for him. And you, you were busy eye-fucking his dick print, the outline of his thick dick resting between his thighs was way too visible you couldn’t take your eyes off of it.

So, here you are, in-between your boyfriend’s legs as you looked up at him, begging him to let you suck him off. “Pretty please? Please ’toru, want your dick in my mouth” gojo gave you a smug look, blue-eyes still focused on his cellular device. A pout curved on your lips, frowning as you decided to cup his cock from above his pants. Catching satoru slightly off guard, his eyes moving from his phone to you.

Satoru couldn’t help but anticipate your next move, turning off his phone and throwing it next to him. His whole focus was finally on you.

You couldn’t help but smirk, squeezing his dick as you felt it slowly hardening between your hands.

You watched as his cock twitched in his pants, begging to be touched & you couldn’t help but slightly drool at the sight. His dick print showing off his thick cock, made you want to push satoru’s pants down and shove his dick in your mouth. It was tempting, you wanted to suck on it already but an idea popped up in the spiral of the moment, making you pause for a second.

You looked up at satoru to meet his eyes, eyes threatening to shut, breathing was heavy and his face flushed a light shade of pink.

“suck it already” he murmured, voice low n’ whiny. You smirked–holding his cock as you wrapped your lips around his clothed tip. Sucking on it so messily and sloppily. Satoru gasped, not expecting you to pull something like this, something so vile, so nasty. But he liked it anyways.

You were drenching his pants with your saliva, his head thrown back as you stopped sucking on his tip and started licking his whole length from above his pants. You looked so good underneath him, licking & sucking on his fully clothed cock–“who knew my pretty girlfriend liked to suck dick s’much?” he breathed out, you paused your movements to look up at him once again.

“since forever? Always loved sucking your dick & only yours,” A lazy smirk made it’s way on satoru’s face–his thighs trembling as you went back to sucking his tip, pre-cum kept spilling & staining his pants–making a huge mess between gojo’s legs. A huge wet patch forming that was just spit, drool and his pre-cum.

“mmfph ’toru, wanna have your dick in my mouth already” you sighed, rubbing his length from above his slacks. “Nah, keep doing it like this, makin’ me feel so good baby” he patted your head & you nodded in obedience despite the obvious pout on your lips.

You squeezed his dick again, rubbing his tip with your thumb and giving his shaft long licks, your kneaded the tip with your thumb so fast and rough, not giving the white head any time to process the pleasure he was receiving.

Satoru grips your hair and rolls his head back, fast and low moans leaving him as his cock twitched and pulsated in his pants–his thighs shaking as he came undone in his pants. Staining the fabric even more with his gooey, thick cum.

Satoru stared down at you with a hazy look in his eyes and mouth slightly apart, “can i suck on it now? for real this time?” you asked with a sheepish smile on your face. Satoru rolled his eyes, and pushed you off of him before plopping you down next to him.

“no, i got something better in mind,” it was now satoru’s turn to get on his knees, spreading your legs apart and pulling down your pants. You tilted your head in confusion, “what’re you up to?” gojo only snickered–pushing his face against your crotch and taking a long sniff from your clothed pussy. You gasped, finally understanding his intentions.

“G’nna eat you out through your panties, Ya’ okay with that angel?”

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[jasmineoolongtea]

― i like the way you kiss me . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

― the ways in which they kiss you when you aren't actually together yet ₊˚⊹♡

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn! reader, choso x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuji x gn!reader, yuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, slightly suggestive for some of them if you squint a/n: just some headcanons i wanted to write after listening to i like the way you kiss me by artemas plus i needed a short writing break from my risk - megumi fic that i've been working on. hope you guys enjoy this !!!

gojo satoru kisses you like he misses you already despite barely being apart for more than a few hours. it didn't matter to him that he just saw you moments ago. that was nothing more than a trivial fact to him, just like the fact that you two still weren't actually together yet, in the grand scheme of things. why should he be waiting any second longer to feel your touch on him? he was never good at being patient anyways.

"missing me already huh?" you murmur against his lips, his hands securing you against him as he pinned you against the brick wall of the restaurant behind you two.

he scoffs at your comment. "oh shut up." his lips are on yours again in a matter of second. you weren't going to lie, you were enjoying this. to see someone so powerful like gojo satoru yet so susceptible to your presence to the point where he couldn't wait anymore to have your lips against his. with his flushed cheeks and slightly puffy lips, you want to forever immortalise this image of him in your mind. silently, you thanked whatever was out there that he decided to forgo his sunglasses tonight as their absence allowed you to truly appreciate the beauty of his eyes, even being able to notice the tiniest specks of what appeared to be gold in his pupils.

as he tilts his head to the side to better fit his features against yours, you swear you can feel his every breath with how flushed his chest is against yours. you even earn a soft groan from him when your fingers dance across his undercut, taking your time to run your hands through his snowy locks.

you're glad that his eyes are closed right now, getting a ticklish sensation as his long eyelashes kiss the expanses of your cheeks with the slight flutter of his eyes so that he isn't able to notice how the red blush that was once contained on your face has now expanded outwards to the tip of your eyes. he bites at your bottom lip gently, as if asking for permission to go further and you grant his request with a faint gasp of your own.

"noisy, aren't we?"

"oh shut up."

geto suguru kisses you like you're his already. the way he snakes his arms around your waist and presses his lips against yours only makes you sink further into his touch. if he wasn't holding you up right now, you would probably melt into the floor just from his proximity alone. you've been dancing around the issue for a few months now, fleeting touches in a dark room, longing glances across the room. it was all fun and games for both of you, seeing how long you could drag out this game of teasing and temptation until the other had enough. you thought you were doing pretty well. that is, until he decided to show up here again and well, just imagine the feeling of his lips against yours wasn't enough anymore.

you've always wondered what it would feel like to card your hands through his raven tresses and now, with your fingers tangled in up there, you can safely say it was better than you could have ever imagined. if it wasn't you who was the one messing up his hair, he would have some choice words to say about it, but as of right now, that was the least of his concerns. right now, his priority was seeing how long it would take for him to become consumed by his desire for you and it seemed like he wasn't going to last long. not with how you would let out a low whine every time his teeth grazed your lips or with your wandering hands taking this opportunity to explore the expanses of his well-sculpted back.

you feel like you've just had your breath stolen from you with how heavily you were panting against him, your faces flushed with want and kiss-swollen lips as evidence of what had recently transpired between the two of you. neither of you make the move to break apart as he leans down to ask.

"so what does this make us?"

nanami kento kisses you with so much restraint it only incites you to try and break down his defences further. his kisses barely feel like pecks, leaving you to subconsciously chase him for more every time he pulls away. he doesn't dare to try and do more, to push the boundary further. not only are you not technically together yet but also he's afraid. not of you, but rather of what would happen if he let his resolve fall and indulged in his selfish desires for what would be the first time in a long while.

he stops for a moment, his face barely hovering centimetres above from yours as his eyes flicker between your slightly agape mouth and your half-lidded eyes, watching him closely as you try to anticipate his next. he couldn't tell which one was drawing him in more at that moment. his breath hitches momentarily when he feels a soft tug at his tie, your right hand absent-mindedly toying with the edges of it as you place your other hand against his chest as if attempting to brace yourself against him. he couldn't tell but your legs felt like they were about to give out at any second with how every single cell in your body felt electrified with the amount of desire and anxiety coursing through your veins.

silence dragged on for what felt like ages, both of you unmoving in your positions until you muttered under your breath. "kento..." your voice was barely above a whisper but at that moment, it turns out that he was not as strong in his resolve as he thought he was with that being all he needed to dive right into you, fully untethered this time as his lips crashed against yours.

kamo choso kisses you like he's scared that this will be the first and last time he'll ever get to do so. there's so much fear and hesitation in his movements yet at the same time, you can feel the fervour and passion that is pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against you. his hands are hovering around your figure, scared to fully let himself hold you as if he's worried that the moment he makes contact, you're going to snap out of whatever daze you're in and run away from him. you aren't going to do that of course, if only he knew how long you were waiting for this to happen. as you feel the cold of the concrete wall against your back, the two of you part, albeit reluctantly, from each other to catch your breaths.

"..are you sure?" he asks breathlessly. his pupils are blown wide open as his eyes seemingly turn into infinite purple voids, watching your every movement unblinking.

you run your fingers across the back of his neck, toying slightly with some of the loose black strands that were clinging to his skin. he looks pretty like this, you think to yourself. he looks at you so eagerly, so soft and pliable in your hands, as he nervously awaits for your response.

"never been more sure."

fushiguro megumi kisses you like you're the air he breathes. who would have thought someone so famously reserved like megumi had it in him like this? you aren't given long to ponder on that thought as his lips are against yours once again, moving in sync with an imaginary rhythm as you frenziedly grasp at the material of his shirt in a weak attempt to try and ground you against his closeness to you. with every slide of his lips past yours, you're pretty sure that he's simultaneously taking and giving you back your breath which you previously thought would be impossible to do but are now sorely proven wrong.

you're not even a lightweight or anything when it comes to alcohol but you're pretty sure you're drunk on the feeling of him the moment his mouth was on yours. much to your surprise, the spikes that he calls his hair are actually pretty soft as you run your hands through them, a soft tug at the hair beneath your fingers drawing out a barely disguised groan from him. you giggle softly against his lips at his reaction and he silences you with another kiss, not that you were complaining as you ardently respond by tilting your head off to the side slightly to grant him better access to your face. your eyes are closed but you can imagine the half-hearted scowl on his face with how his brows furrow in the way that they always do against your forehead.

even though it was barely minutes ago, your mind is hazy as you try to remember the circumstances that led to this situation right now. it was probably a stupid argument that you guys got into, like the two of you usually do, and somehow that resulted in him wanting to prove his point more unconventionally. you give up on trying to recall the details as you can feel your face start to burn up as one of his hands start to wander down to rest against your hips.

"so," he pants, the heat of his breath is warm against your lips. "does that prove my point?"

itadori yuji kisses you eagerly, trying to savour every single moment of his lips against yours. you could feel the excitement basically pouring out from him with each movement of his lips against you, even eliciting a giggle from him that reverberates against your mouth as your noses bump against each other. it's a messy, disorganised sort of kiss with you being sure this is the third time you've accidentally grazed your teeth against his. fortunately for both of you, you're all way too engrossed and intoxicated on the sensation of the other's lips to care.

every time one of you tries to catch your breath, the other tries to chase your lips as they attempt to recapture that feeling again. as your arms encircle his neck, pulling you close to him, you're pretty sure you can feel him groan quietly against your lips with his hands reaching up to cup your face. with a deep sigh, you sink into his warm embrace, taking the moment to fully breathe him in like your life depended on it.

one of his hands falls from your face and gives a tentative squeeze at your waist to which you gasp quietly. taking this opportunity, he breaks apart from your lips and presses a flurry of kisses across your face which earns him a wide grin from you as you half-heartedly attempt to defend yourself from his sudden kiss attacks.

if you knew that a simple, experimental peck on the cheek could earn you this, maybe you should try to do this more.

okkotsu yuuta kisses you like you're a dream come true. hear him out. he never thought that he would get to experience touch like this ever again in his life, nevermind it coming from you in this manner. to him, you were what sweet dreams were made of, so ethereal, so delicate and so much better than whatever could exist in such a cruel world like this. but once again, defying all his expectations, you were here right in front of him and your lips were on his, faster than in the blink of an eye.

cradling the back of your head with his hands, he leans into the feeling of your lips against his as the two of you move in sync with each other. as if the moment couldn't get better, it was as if your lips were perfectly moulded for his or vice versa. he didn't care which way it was, all this fact did was solidify the thought in his mind that you were sent down onto earth from whatever heavenly plane people like you come from just for him to bask in the presence of.

his eyes are closed for two reasons. one, because he's scared that if he opens his eyes, this will be nothing more than a dream that he has to wake up from and two because he's pretty sure that if he was able to see you in your flushed, kiss dazed glory, he would explode on the spot.

despite being able to tell how badly he's been wanting to kiss you, he doesn't let it overpower him, instead taking the upmost care to make sure that you were still unharmed, treating you as if you were some piece of delicate china that could break at the slightest of wrong moves. while it was nice, you were feeling particularly greedy in that moment. you wanted more.

right as he breaks apart for air, you're already back to pulling him closer than humanly possible at this point by the collar of his shirt and you find that you're rewarded with a soft gasp escaping from him as your lips find each other again, this time with a renewed sense of desire and want.

[screampied]

HOW JJK MEN DEAL WITH YOUR ATTITUDE….

sukuna, nanamin, toji, getō, gojo. jujutsu kaisen men vs your bratty attitude in bed.

2.7k words of pure filth, not yet proofread srry! ☆ total wc ☆

☆ tags ☆ afab!reader, brat-taming, unprotected sex, dirty talk, facefucking , overstimulation, hair pulling , hitting it raw, semi-public sex, 18+ mdni!

☆ a : n ☆ I just wanna get dicked down by fictional men

SUKUNA ☆ RYŌMEN

“ya got some nerve, woman,” sukuna spits, watching you with bright eyes as you just bounce up and down on his lap, your dampened lips tremble as his dick squeezes past such a sweet spot. two hands of yours gripped onto both sides of his thighs, the top of your teeth softly bites down on your bottom lip once a moan slip out from sukuna gifting your pussy with a single spank. “all that talkin’ and ya can barely ride me without me guiding your hips.”

“fuck you s-sukuna.” you’d hiss out, and his base just slams back into you, your weight shifts a bit as you’re growing more stupid, a gasp leaves your lips once you feel him reach a rough hand between your legs, slowly, just to rub circles against your clit. “you’re.. fucking small anyways.”

his warm breath wafts against your neck once he lets off a laugh, watching you struggle to keep up with his pace. yet, grows a bit stern for a second, grabbing ahold of both of your hips to make you stop - do nothing but sit in such dismay. “repeat that again for me, girl?”

“i said-” you started, and he’s stuffing you full of thick inches, your nails dig and dig into his thighs, and sukuna brings a hand up to your mouth. “you’re small, k-kuna.”

“i’m small yet you still fuck me, in case you forgot about that part.” sukuna mutters, his tone was full of rasp that it was a bit sexy, especially when you’re taken by surprise once he shoves you lightly on your chest and the very palm of his hand smacks against your ass, “i’m small yet you probably couldn’t even take both of my dicks if you tried, whore.”

a hiss leaves from your lips again, and you start to whimper once you feel the tip of his swollen head swipe against your achy entrance. “just.. stop talking and fuck me then.”

“mm. no. i’ll fuck ya when i feel like it,” he replies immediately, and you’re just stupidly enough laid flat against your chest, facing forward while sukuna’s entire frame is against you, just barely. just as he��s about to go in, he stops, leaving you with the biggest pout imaginable. “and right now, i don’t feel like it.”

“wha-”

you feel the weight of the bed shift a bit, hearing sukuna pull up his pants, readjusting his belt and you sit up with your eyebrows curling up in disappointment. “where are you going? i didn’t even g-get to cum yet.”

“that sounds like a you problem, princess.” he says, staring down at you with red slick eyes. bastard. his tone carried such arrogant tease, it made you throb and it was so annoying, even still. “don’t think i’ll be able to make ya cum with a dick this small. go ahead and use those fingers of yours. you’re a big girl.”

and sukuna leaves the bedroom, leaving you, naked, confused, and even more horny than you already were before.

NANAMI ☆ KENTO

“my love, thought i told you to wait, i’m in a… call.”

his words slow for a moment once he looks down, seeing you buried underneath his home office work desk, on your knees and giving him that needy look of pure want and desperation. your eyes was just begging, he stares with near widened eyes once he sees you playfully unzip his black slacks. “little.. minx.. okay, fine. just.. try to control yourself for me?”

you and nanami both knew how you’d get though, especially whenever you were to go down on him. you wanted him to touch you, let alone fuck you but he just had to have a stupid important business company meeting. he relaxes for a moment, giving you one final glance before averting his attention towards his bright screen on his laptop as if you weren’t taking him in your mouth at that right given moment.

“fuck,” he groans, leaning back against his black cushioned chair, he can’t help but stare for a bit at seeing his fat tip disappear after each inch. your tongue swirls against against the plump head, tasting his pre-cum and moments later you gag from feeling him reach way back against your throat. “…you.. better wipe that damn smile off your face.”

he was half right, the tiny smile poking against thet corners of your lips as your head started to slowly bobble up and down, taking him with tears already starting to form in your eyes from how good it was. “uh.. kento. are you listening? we need your input for the week's product.”

“p-pardon?” he groans, and his tip continues to hit against the back of your throat, your mouth’s happily being stuffed full, wet sloppy noises of your throat getting fucked, by this point nanami’s got a fist full of your hair, shoving you with ease yet just enough force to where his dick tickles your uvula, making you gag again and again. “i’m listening.. sorry,” he huffs out, and you’re being pushed against him again and again, it’s so sloppy and messy you’ve got drool pouring down the sides of your mouth, “my um.. pet, keeps distracting me, you know?”

the other employees on the call laugh at nanami’s poor attempt of a joking lie, and momentarily his thigh bounces and he bites his lip while trying to maintain focus on his screen. “right, right. anyways, as we mentioned…” and the boring conversation continues, nanami’s staring at you, you’re being a good girl taking him fully, that sloppy tongue of yours just toying with his tip and he’s close - you can tell from the way his grip tightens in your hair, dragging you closer against him and you’re breathing through your nose.

nanami grows quiet for a bit, you keep a long gaze towards him as your knees dig into the ground, probably marks on them by now and moments later he shoots in your mouth, warm ropes of his cum coat on your tongue and it catches him off guard. “….y-yeah no, that sounds good.” he swallows thickly, squeezing the small black mouse that connected to his laptop—just eager to click the red decline button to end the meeting call.

you sucked him dry, his eyes close for a moment and he’s still holding onto your hair, swaying his thumb against your mouth once he takes his dick out to rub and smear his erected cock against your lips. beep. he left the call, and he lets off a sexy low grunt, finally staring at you again. “show me your tongue, baby. let me see the mess you made.”

you stick out your tongue, and nanami gets hard again even though he’s flaccid at the moment, he slaps his fat tip against your tongue and your reaction is so enthusiastic, he watches his own cum nearly pour out your mouth and he brings a hand towards your chin to cup your cheeks. “swallow,” and you do, eager enough and he gives you a head pat before you gasp, pushing you closer towards his crotch area again. “need to feel that mouth of yours again, love. make me cum at least two more times and i’ll think about touching that pretty needy body of yours, okay?”

FUSHIGURO ☆ TOJI

“am i goin' deaf or did ya really just say that, brat?” toji says, and you moan once he’s got you bent over the armrest of the couch like some slut. in this case, you were from how loud you were from each thrust he gave you. you’re just screaming out his name practically from how good he’s hitting you from the back. deep deep strokes that makes your back go up a bit. “still think your ex fucks better than… me?”

“you h-heard me,” you shot back, barely being able to keep up your act, his dick has you stupid and feral, mouth watering, it was just so filthy. he’s so big and thick, stretching and molding out your walls with each second, you feel him throb inside you and his base smacks back against your pussy, he groans from it before chuckling at your broken words. “he can.. last longer than you.”

toji scoffs. “tch,” and your mouth opens a bit once he deepens the angle, getting more thorough with his hits against your cunt. you get dizzy from how good he fucks you, you’re whimpering from his cock at this point, whimpering for more and toji grows cocky. “now girl, let’s not lie.”

his sassiness throws you off, and you’re basically being fucked into the mattress, face being shoved against the cushions.

“f-fucking asshole,” you whined, and he spanks your ass, you let off a soft noise once you feel him pin your wrists behind your back, he’s so deep you can feel his thrusts kiss against your pussy numerous times, you get shivers.

“…sayin' that yet here ya are slutting yourself out on me, that’s…kinda ironic sweetheart,” toji smirks, and he’s got your pussy losing itself, he was right, he and you both knew that. no one could fuck better than toji, especially with a size like his—he could fuck you right to sleep, his dreamy strokes would ease about anyway. “how ‘bout i pump this cunt full and show your little boy toy what he’s missin'.”

you’re too fucked dumb to reply, and toji’s pace grows more and more erotic. the couch creaks and creaks, and your head’s just spinning.

“f-fuck.. cum- gonna cum toji.”

“not on me you aren’t,” he mumbles back, and you’re mood immediately shifts to confusion once he flips you on your back, his hovering over you with a fixated witty grin. “oh don’t give me that look, sweets. you brought this on yourself, and my feelings are hurt so it you think i can’t last, maybe your ex can do better.”

“h-huh?” you whimpered, watching him grab your phone from the nightstand. “what are you doing? finish fucking me..”

“callin' mr. lover boy,” still balls deep yet stopping his thrusts, with a few clicks, toji dials a number before pressing the phone against his ear. “hey buddy. hope ya aren’t busy. but you remember your girl right? i’m-fucking-her-by-the-way-but-that’s not-important. but she says you last longer than me. ain’t gonna lie, man to man, quite frankly, i’m offended.”

SUGURU ☆ GETŌ

“fucking…” he cursed, kissing his teeth in annoyance, he pulls over the car to a more secluded area away from public eyes, he gets you out before staring at you with an annoyed expression. even pissed off, geto was still heavily attractive. “trying to.. get me off while i’m driving? you wanna get us both killed?”

“maybe…” you fake whined, a smile going on your lips, striding towards him to playfully run your hands up his shirt to feel his toned abs.

geto gives you a glare before with a swift arm movement, he turns you around and pins you against the hood of his car. “you just woke up and chose to be a brat today, huh. someone needs to get put in their place again. you never learn, do you.”

he had no shame fucking you out in the open, despite no cars were driving nearby, anyone could probably stumble upon the two of you though. it was so filthy, your boyfriend fucking you rough and deep against the hood of his car, lazily pulling your skirt up, not having the decency to pull down your panties. “s-suguru,” you moaned, not expecting him to be so worked up, your panties were pulled to the side and he’s pumping your sweet tight cunt full of his dick. “someone’s gonna see us.”

“someone’s gonna see you,” he corrects, giving your ass a mean spank and that makes you moan later before you start sputtering cute whiney little sorry’s before he continues to spank you ever few seconds, grunting from his deep strokes that made you almost go limp against his hood. “what are you sorry for?”

he was teasing you, your hands remained planted on top of the the warm over-heated vehicle, you feel your mouth grow dry and you feel yourself coming close. “for- for trying to stroke you while you were trying.”

“that’s sweet,” he says, and you’re just getting pounded from behind, he’s a perfect fit for your smug entrance, using a rough hand to spread your legs a little wider for him. you could sort of feel the soft fabric of his halfway pulled down sweats against your ass each time he hits himself against you, “but i don’t believe you’re sorry. you’re just saying sorry so i can let you cum, is that right, pretty?”

you squeezed your eyes close for a split second and you hear geto hold back a giggle once he gives your ass another spank. “n-no i’m serious suguru, 'm sorry- please let me cum.”

“pretty please,” he adds, hearing you sigh in frustration. he found it so cute whenever you didn’t get your way.

“…….pretty please, suguru.”

“good, good girl.” he groans, his balls were so heavy, very thick you’re just hungry for him to pump you more, your mouth watered just imagining him over filling your pussy with ropes and ropes of his cum until it’s dripping down your thighs.

but a ear-wrenching siren appears, and you freeze up once you spot a police car pulling up towards the both of you. let’s just say, the both of you were busted.

GOJO ☆ SATORU

“so it’s like that,” gojo frowns, and it’s fake nonetheless, of course it is, it’s gojo. he’s never serious, especially while he’s intimate with you. you’re laid down on your back and gojo’s just so mean. he already came inside you but now he’s just teasing you, admiring his own cum overflowing your cunt with the stupidest grin spreading on his face. “we may not be together anymore but you’re the one beggin' for more all the time.”

“don’t be stupid,” you grumble, giving him a returning glare - and oddly enough, that only turns him on. “you’re only good for a quick f-fuck.”

“oh. soooo you’re just using me,” he pouts, leaning in to give you a kiss, but pauses and that’s when he goes back inside you, barely giving you time to adjust and your nails find its way into the edges of his back. his dick was so lengthy, a perfect fit for your pussy and you whine once he leans into you, body to body, and he’s so warm.

“who knew you were a such a player, baby,” he utters, moving in close to lick a stripe up your neck. “but we both know that isn’t true. you keep comin' back to me 'cause you’ll never find someone who can fuck you deep as good as me. i mean, i don’t blame you…. i’d be pretty pissed too. especially with a size like mine. there there.”

gojo goes on to ramble mid-fuck, like he always does and he’s so annoying, but his heavy size makes up for it entirely.

“i hate you-” was all you managed to spit out, and you moan once you feel gojo press a hand against your tummy, he’s feeling the slight bulge and it makes him smile knowing how big he is. “cocky bastard.”

“ehhh but you love this cocky bastard though.” he sings, pursing his lips together in a mocking way, and he’s fucking you again with his hips rocking and swaying against you, gojo grabs onto your hands, playfully squeezing them before noticing your lip starting to tremor. “oh? you gonna cry for me, princess? forgot how much of a crybaby you were whenever you get close.”

you don’t reply, just lock your legs around his slutty waist and he chuckles at your clinginess.

“….speechless… just… like… that, that’s so cute but sad. thought i taught this pussy better,” he mocks, and you moan right up against his ear from his dick going against your clit repeatedly, you take a few stops to smear your lips together or control your breathing and gojo’s sliding in and out of you, preparing to gift you with another dump of his cum to fill you full.

his inches nearly have you drooling—you want more and more but you’d never flat out say that to gojo satoru of all people. he smooches your cheek and flashes that cheesy cocky grin, before giving you more ropes of his cum, admiring the way your legs shook before spreading your legs open to get a good enough view of the way it drips down your thighs.

“oh…. damn. you’re on the pill…. right?”

“……”

“RIGHT?”

[spencerreidenjoyer]

love bites | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation

a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️

(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)

Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.

He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.

“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.

Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.

Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.

Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”

“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.

He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.

Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.

“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.

“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.

“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”

Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”

Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”

He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.

Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.

It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.

Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.

“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.

You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”

Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.

You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.

You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.

You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.

There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.

One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.

He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.

“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”

Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.

His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”

“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.

And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.

You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.

One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”

You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.

Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”

You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."

[violettaskies]

Of Books & Beasts

Prompt: virginity

Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader

Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope

Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!

ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts

-:-:-:-:-

The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right? 

Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking. 

With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.

“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register. 

“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order. 

“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.” 

“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone. 

But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —” 

“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.” 

The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real. 

“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly. 

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?” 

“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.” 

-:-:-:-:-

You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel. 

However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers. 

“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library. 

“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head. 

“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly. 

Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully. 

Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man. 

“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?” 

“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas. 

However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed. 

Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your — 

No. 

This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever. 

“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts. 

“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle. 

“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot. 

“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.

Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.” 

“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.” 

The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you. 

“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?” 

You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words. 

What a dream. 

“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket. 

“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly. 

“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.” 

They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry. 

It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little. 

Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice. 

“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body. 

Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever. 

But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least. 

You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve. 

The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.

But you were so wrong. 

Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs. 

Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal. 

Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together. 

-:-:-:-:-

Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant. 

His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before. 

As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too. 

Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process. 

You were about to become the death of him tonight. 

Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him. 

“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”

Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep. 

If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly. 

“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily. 

“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep. 

“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream. 

“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.” 

Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand. 

Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully. 

“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together. 

“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”

The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure. 

“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status. 

“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it. 

“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?” 

Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight. 

“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud

“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions. 

“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered. 

“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all. 

You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”  

“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”

“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment. 

“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice. 

Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them. 

“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth. 

“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot. 

“Y-yes, I would be.” 

After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.” 

“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.

“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone. 

“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle. 

“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.” 

In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure. 

No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind. 

“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts. 

“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.  

“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him. 

“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly. 

You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him. 

“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts. 

“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.  

“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again. 

“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down. 

All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.” 

The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before. 

“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted. 

“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly. 

“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.

Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever. 

“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours. 

“More, please.” 

“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.” 

“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea. 

Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned. 

“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you. 

“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.

But, you were wrong, so wrong. 

As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise. 

“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him. 

“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter. 

You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.

“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met. 

Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back. 

The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again. 

“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.” 

“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub. 

“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod. 

Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal. 

The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.  

“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper. 

“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder. 

“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve. 

The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples. 

You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good. 

“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin. 

“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned. 

“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.” 

And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms. 

“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently. 

Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high. 

“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down. 

“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips. 

The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips, 

“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses. 

“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now. 

“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?” 

Fuck. 

Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly. 

The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”

“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”

“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness. 

You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust. 

“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?” 

With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least. 

“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle. 

“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking. 

“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased. 

Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers. 

You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed. 

“Let's use a little, Steve.” 

“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand. 

“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.” 

Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight. 

“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you. 

Just the tip — you said the words before. 

But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out. 

This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of. 

“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in. 

“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size. 

“Feels nice.”  

“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you. 

Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved. 

Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body. 

“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.  

“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you. 

“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you. 

He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.” 

“Need more — need you to go faster.”

“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully. 

“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.

In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely.  “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned. 

“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you. 

Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies. 

“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.” 

“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now. 

You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days. 

One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.  

“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster. 

“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”

“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.

“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.” 

Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”  

“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes. 

“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.  

“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots. 

Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you. 

And he did. 

Good god, he did. 

“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously. 

“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve. 

He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you. 

For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way. 

You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays. 

“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you. 

“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him. 

“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process. 

“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again. 

Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs. 

“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze. 

Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips. 

“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”

You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked. 

“Another day?” 

“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin. 

“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process. 

If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too. 

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