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mononijikayu · 5 months ago

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is it new years yet? — nanami kento.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now." "Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different." “My darling, behave.” “No <3” ".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

GENRE: alternate universe - no curses au!;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, secret coworker romance, co-workers to lovers, romance, fluff, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, kissing, making out, rough sex, fingering, creampie, p to v sex, stairwell sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (my darling, babe, etc), possessiveness, jealousy, characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, actor! nanami kento, actor! reader;

WORD COUNT: 6k words.

NOTE: hello everyone, this is the first fic of 2025!!! this was specifically written because of a conversation between me and @midnight-138 on the afternoon of december 31st 2024. i started progress while on a bus on the way to my grandma's house and for a bit on the 1st. i still wanted to write more for it, but i had to stop because i caught a cold. i still have a cold. and i need a massage cause i feel my body hurt real bad, cause its working hard to save my life from this cold TT TT

but that being said, i shouldn't complain too much. good things have been happening to me despite my problems. i hope that good things continue to come!!! anyway, enough yapping, i hope you enjoy this little fic. happy 2025!!! may good things, good health and happiness come your way always this year!!!

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

IT WAS ALWAYS LIKE THIS WHEN YOU AND KENTO GET TOGETHER. But it was to be expected, since you graced the screens since you were a child. Nanami Kento was like that too. Of course, it wasn’t something of a brag at all. It was just your normal.

You were lucky, you were favored like that. Kento was favored just like that. Both of you were so beloved. And especially so, in a way that they end up hoping that you both were together.

Ever since you worked with him on Jujutsu Kaisen all those years ago, it was just too strong — the chemistry between the two of you. It pulls people in for more. They wanted a story, they wanted something that could ease their days from the mundane boredom that it was to the fun, exhilarating excitement that comes with the tea in both of your private lives.

You didn’t mind, your company didn’t mind either. Neither did Kento or his side of the aisle. It helped that you were both good friends. You had met even before landing your roles on Jujutsu Kaisen, after all. So, the ‘will they, won’t they’ between the two of you really did help your careers.

But of course, just like in Gege–sensei’s scripts, some parts are sentences with too many blank pages. And the wholeness of your relationship with Nanami Kento truly only belonged to you and him. And you were not willing to expose it to the world. Not just yet.

Yet — this does not stop them from trying to do something about that.

The studio buzzed with activity as you adjusted the earpiece in your ear, stealing a quick glance at the veteran actor, singer, producer, writer and entertainment personality that is Nanami Kento.

He stood near the stage, his posture relaxed yet impossibly refined. Dressed in a tailored charcoal suit, his tie a subtle but elegant shade of deep blue,everything about him just exuded a quiet confidence that made it hard for anyone to look away.

You, however, knew better than to let your gaze linger too long. You knew too well that those are reserved for just him and you to interpret and to see. No one else should. You were as possessive about your private moments as he was. But you would never say that outloud and neither will he.

“Can you believe these two again?” a stagehand whispered slowly, behind you. It was still, of course, loud enough for you to hear. “It’s like they were made for this. If they don’t end up together after tonight, I’ll lose faith in love. Really!”

You bit back a laugh, focusing on your notes. No one knew the truth, after all. That you and Kento were already together had been for a while now. Not even your publicists or managers — hell, not even your entertainment companies, knew that this was for genuine actuality, a real thing now. But you and him liked it that way.

You had let your fans go wild with their theories over the years of course. Every post, every comment, every little interaction, every collaboration, every press tour — almost everything seemed to spark a new wave of speculation and fan shipping.

For years now, the internet was rife with hashtags like #OurSecretLovers and #MrAndMrsNanami with fans pouring over every detail like it's an investigatory report they were doing, a documentary study. You had to admit, it was amusing at times, watching people try to connect dots they couldn’t see.

Nanami Kento had a reputation for being rather serious, because he gets roles in that league often. But he was a silly little man, well your silly little man. And he often had the knack for finding the most random, yet oddly endearing, posts about the two of you on Twitter. During your five-minute breaks between shoots, when you were in separate rooms or on different sets, his messages would pop up on your phone, accompanied by a link and a deadpan caption.

"Apparently, we're #RelationshipGoals now."

"Some of them really think I write poetry about you during my lunch breaks, too. Not inaccurate, of course. But the thoughts I have of you are different."

“My darling, behave.”

“No <3”

".......In any case, my darling…..this one says I’m lucky to have you. Can’t argue with that."

You’d giggle to yourself, your shoulders shaking as you tried not to draw attention. It didn’t matter how serious the production you were working on either. He had a way of making you laugh even from miles away. And that relaxes you a lot.

When it was your turn, you’d send him TikToks. Fancam edits of the two of you together had exploded in popularity as of late, especially since you both played a married couple who were spies deceiving each other recently. People thought he looked so good, especially when he had his shirt off. You loved teasing him about it. After all, he was really pretty hot in those scenes. And if you were being honest, they did in fact rile you up.

"Look at us, babe." you texted once, attaching a video with dramatic lighting, a love song playing over clips of you two stolen from interviews and behind-the-scenes footage. "We’re icons."

His reply came almost immediately: "Icons, sure. But I’m just a guy who got lucky enough to be yours, you know?"

Those words made your heart swell every time. He’d always been effortlessly humble, never letting fame or admiration inflate his ego, even as his star rose. After all, you were the senpai here—the darling of the Japanese screen since childhood.

You’d grown up in the industry, your name synonymous with household stardom. He, on the other hand, had been a late bloomer, starting as a teenager and building his career with quiet determination.

He never let the difference in your status get in the way, though. If anything, it only made him more in awe of you. He’d often remind you how much he admired your grace, how you’d navigated the pressures of fame with a poise that still left him speechless.

“You’ve been dazzling audiences since you were a kid.” he’d say, his voice warm with pride. “I’m just lucky to share the screen with you now and your life.”

And you’d roll your eyes playfully, nudging him with a smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, Kento. You’re a fan favorite for a reason.”

“Maybe.” he replied with a soft smirk. “But you’re my favorite. And that’s what matters.”

No matter how busy your schedules got, those small exchanges, be it a funny link or a sentimental text, every bit of this kept you connected. It reminded you both that beneath the glitz and glamour, what truly mattered was the quiet, enduring love you shared.

You were out of your bubble soon enough when Kento suddenly caught your eye from across the room, offering a small, reassuring smile and then a small gentle nod. You felt your cheeks turn red but lowered your head immediately before anyone was to notice. He was too good at making you feel like this. And certainly so, he was hiding his smirk under his cue cards.

“Alright, places, everyone!” the director called.

You finally stood up from your chair, taking a deep breath and calmed down. You gave yourself one more look in the mirror, trying to make sure that your cheeks were natural now. When you felt like it was, you smiled at your manager who handed you the mic and swiftly thanked them. You went to your position. Kento soon approached, his footsteps purposeful but unhurried.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” you replied, flashing him a smile.

You were grateful for the reassurance. Even if you were already such a big name, you still did get nervous. And even more so, with such a big show like this — the New Year Countdown, of course you could feel yourself slipping.

The two of you took your positions on stage as the lights dimmed and the opening music swelled. His fingers brushed against yours briefly as he fixed himself up, your pinkies touching. Even briefly, you could feel the warmth. He did that on purpose. You could see it in his caramel eyes.

You let a brief smile echo on your lips. You gathered yourself as the lift came up slowly. When you both were in the sight of the gathered audiences and the cameras started to broadcast it all live, you both slipped effortlessly into your roles. After all, you both were professionals.

“Good evening, everyone, and welcome to this year’s New Year’s Eve Countdown!” you began, your voice bright and enthusiastic.

“Thank you for joining us as we bid farewell to the old year and welcome the new.” Kento added, his tone smooth and polished.

Your banter flowed naturally, as always. That well beloved chemistry between you is still ever so undeniable. It was easy to fall into a rhythm with him; he was your partner in every sense of the word. And that made your job tonight a little bit easier.

But of course, the real challenge was hiding the little moments that threatened to give you away that bit you kept so dear to you. You just can't help it when it comes to him. He has such a powerful pull on you and he knows it.

There were those little lingering glances, watching and feeling the way his fingers brushed yours when you handed him a card, the subtle softness in his smile when he looked at you. After all, this is the longest you could be together in your very busy schedules this year.

Still, you kept yourself in that cage. And so did he, despite his lack of patience when it comes to you and everything about you. As the night progressed, the energy in the studio grew electric.

Various music performances lit up the stage, and interviews with special guests kept the crowd engaged. Throughout it all, you and Kento remained the perfect duo—professional, poised, and completely in sync.

After nearly a few hours of composure, it came almost all too suddenly. In just a few moments, the final countdown approached, and the excitement was palpable. The two of you stood at the center of the stage, along with the other participants for this year’s event. In front of you, the crowd behind you cheering wildly, waiting excitedly for the new year.

“Here we go!” you said, your voice barely audible over the noise.

Kento leaned in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing great, darling..”

Your heart fluttered, but you kept your composure. “Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself, babe.”

The countdown soon began.

You took a breath, looking at the screen.

You held your cue cards tightly to you.

“Ten! Nine! Eight!”

The lights soon dimmed, and the giant screen behind you displayed the numbers as they ticked down. The crowd’s voices grew louder with each second. The emotions coming through you were indescribable. Another year had gone by. But he was still by your side, like this. And all you could pray for as the time passed into a new age — that you would always be together.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Confetti soon rained down, and the studio erupted in cheers. You turned toward Kento, and for a fleeting moment, the world around you disappeared. The look in his caramel eyes was unmistakable—warm, tender, and filled with a quiet pride that made your chest tighten.

But just as quickly, the moment passed, and you both turned back to the crowd, waving and smiling as the cameras captured every angle. People of course started to pay less attention to you both and the stage and more onto the fireworks now blurring the sky with its bright hues. You and Kento made a steady exit off the stage.

“Another successful project, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence as you leaned against the wall.

Kento smirked faintly, unbuttoning the top of his shirt to loosen his tie. “They’ll be talking about this for weeks, you know?”

“And shipping us even harder, hm.” you added with a laugh.

“They’ll never know, though.” he said, his voice soft but steady.

You stepped closer, your hand finding his. His fingers intertwined with yours, the simple gesture grounding you in a way nothing else could. “They don’t need to, babe.” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “This is ours.”

Kento’s lips curved into the faintest smile as he brought your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Happy New Year, my darling.”

“Happy New Year.” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

You had thought it would end there, sweet and innocent. You had thought you both were safe for one more year. But when you two are together after a long time…..it was a whole new animal. And nothing can stop such a wave in high tide from occupying something whole.

The next tithing you know is that the internet exploded the moment the photos dropped. Headlines blared across every platform, hashtags like #FINALLYOMG and #NewYearNewScandal trending within minutes after they were taken.

The pictures were pretty damning. They were blurry but unmistakably you, disheveled and wrapped in Nanami’s coat, your hair a mess. And him? A rare sight indeed.

It was none other than Nanami Kento, usually the epitome of composure, looking uncharacteristically undone. His tie was loose, his shirt wrinkled, and the telltale bruises blooming on his neck left little to the imagination.

You groaned, tossing your phone onto the coffee table as you buried your face in your hands. Beside you, Kento sat unbothered, calmly sipping his tea like the world wasn’t on fire—or at least your career’s PR team.

“I told you we should’ve been more careful, babe.” you muttered, your voice muffled by your palms.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his lips quivering into a teasing smile. “You were the one who couldn’t wait with it, y'know?” he replied smoothly, setting his cup down with an elegant clink.

His tone was infuriatingly calm, but the glint in his eyes betrayed his amusement. “Who was it again, begging me to fill you up? By round two, you were going—‘Kento, I need you. Right here. Right now.’ and I was happy to heed the request like always.”

Your scarlet blush was immediate, your head snapping up to glare at him. “Kento!” you hissed, glancing around the living room as if someone could overhear, even though it was just the two of you. “Not helping!”

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs with the air of a man thoroughly enjoying himself. “I’m just stating the facts about, I'm the same.” he said with a shrug, his smirk widening as you shot him another flustered look. "That's not a bad thing."

Your phone buzzed again on the table, your manager’s name flashing on the screen. You sighed, picking it up only to immediately huff and toss it back down. “This is really…” you trailed off, searching for the right word but settling on a frustrated groan instead.

“Chaotic? Consequential? Hilarious?” Kento offered, his voice laced with mock innocence.

You shot him a glare that was far more affectionate than threatening. “Horrible. That’s the word. This is horrible.”

He chuckled, reaching over to rest a comforting hand on your knee. “Darling, it’s not the end of the world. Scandal or not, we’ll deal with it.”

“Easy for you to say.” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “Your team probably thinks this is great publicity for your brooding, mysterious heartthrob image. Meanwhile, I’m the one getting texts about how unprofessional it looks for ‘Japan’s sweetheart’ to be caught sneaking around with hickeys and wearing her boyfriend’s coat.”

“Unprofessional?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “It’s not like we committed a crime. We’re adults in a committed relationship. And in any case my darling....….” he added, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “You look adorable in my coat.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help but crack a small smile. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me. Very much." he quipped, leaning over to steal a quick kiss from your lips.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest, instead letting your head fall onto his shoulder with a sigh. “Next time, though….really.....” you muttered. “We’re finding a stairwell without photographer cameras.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Noted.”

As you leaned against your lover, the memory hit you both like a freight train, vivid and unrelenting. It had started innocently enough—or as innocently as it could between the two of you. The countdown show had gone off without a hitch, and the studio was still buzzing with post-show chaos.

You both talked for a bit, had a cute moment and then went back to your professional mode when everyone started to surround you both again. It was like a switch, and it was easy. No one suspected a thing.

You went ahead into the dressing room, you talked with everyone. You’d been polite and professional, thanking the crew and chatting with some of the guests. But the moment Nanami Kento had caught your eye as you left the green room, something in his caramel gaze had made your pulse quicken.

You hadn’t seen him in weeks. Between his packed schedule and yours, the countdown project had been the only excuse to be in the same room together. The public facade you maintained only added to the frustration. Every fleeting touch, every shared look—it all built up, an unbearable tension neither of you could ignore.

So, when he’d quietly grabbed your hand and guided you down a quiet, rarely-used stairwell in the building when no one was looking, you hadn’t protested. You were excited, happy even. This was the chance to feel him again this close to you.

And you were glad for that opportunity. You could feel his touch be so genuine and warm despite the heavy chill in the air, and the firm grip of his fingers around yours sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

“Darling, I missed you, really.” he murmured as soon as you were alone.

His voice low and rough, filled with a longing that made your knees weak. His hands cupped your face with a reverence that always left you breathless, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek as he leaned in. The kiss was searing, his lips melding with yours as though it had been an eternity since your last stolen moment together.

The cold winter air bit at your exposed skin, but his touch set you alight. His coat had slipped from his shoulders in a quiet, unspoken gesture, draped over yours as his lips moved to your neck. The kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and deliberate, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin before his teeth grazed your pulse.

“Kento, babe….” you gasped, your voice trembling from a mix of the frigid air and the heat of his attention. Your fingers clutched the lapels of his suit, trying to ground yourself against the onslaught of sensations.

“Shh, just enjoy it......” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

His hands slid down your sides, firm but gentle as they gripped your thighs. Without hesitation, he lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the wall. The rough texture scraped against your coat, but you barely noticed, too focused on the way his body pressed into yours.

His strength always caught you off guard, even after all this time together. Your eager legs wrapped instinctively around his waist, your heels digging into his lower back. His hands gripped your thighs, spreading you open as he stepped between them, his body fitting against yours like a missing piece.

“Babe!” you breathed again, the sound barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

He kissed you like a man starved, his lips leaving your neck to reclaim your mouth. The intensity of it stole the air from your lungs, leaving you dizzy and clinging to him. He was hungry, perhaps even more than you were. But you had expected that. He has a habit of yearning to touch you a lot.

“I hate not being able to touch you, with all the schedules we fucking had.” he muttered against your skin, the words tinged with frustration and longing. “Hated every fucking minute of it……”

You tangled your fingers in his hair, the silky strands slipping through your fingers as you tugged him closer. “Then don’t stop, babe.” you whispered, the plea soft but desperate. “Cause….I need you badly too. I need you so bad in me—”

He growled softly, the sound rumbling against your throat as his touch shifted. One hand remained steady on your thigh, holding you firmly in place, while the other slid beneath the hem of your dress. His fingers were deliberate, pushing aside the delicate lace of your panties with practiced ease.

When his fingers slipped through your slick folds, a gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall. He groaned softly, the sound low and satisfied as he gathered your arousal, his touch teasing and unhurried.

“You’re already so ready for me, aren’t you, my darling?” he murmured, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as his fingers moved with precision, finding the spot that made you arch into him.

The cold air around you was a stark contrast to the heat building between you, the quiet of the stairwell broken only by your uneven breaths and his whispered praises. It was reckless, indulgent, and utterly intoxicating—just like him.

“Kento, babe….oh!” you whimpered, your voice trembling as his fingers continued their unrelenting rhythm. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as waves of pleasure began to build within you.

“Shh, darling.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear before trailing back to your neck. His voice was low and soothing, laced with a quiet intensity that only made your pulse race faster. “You’ll have to keep quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to escape as he added a second finger. The stretch was delicious, his movements slow and deliberate, coaxing you higher with every stroke. His thumb brushed over your sensitive bud, and your thighs instinctively clenched around his waist.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin. “That’s my good little lover, hm? My only beloved darling.” he murmured, his praise sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you. “So perfect for me.”

Your fingers slid up into his messy blond hair, tugging gently as your body arched against him. The rough texture of the wall behind you was a sharp contrast to the soft warmth of his touch, grounding you as he pushed you closer to the edge.

“Kento, please, b–babe….oh!” you breathed, the words barely audible as your head tilted back, exposing more of your neck to his eager lips. “M–more…..more!”

He hummed in response, the sound vibrating against your skin. “So impatient, aren’t you? Greedy too.” he teased, though his fingers quickened their pace, curling just right to hit the spot that made your breath hitch. “I missed seeing you like this, so needy for me.”

The heat pooling in your core intensified, your body trembling as the pleasure built to an unbearable peak. “I’m—” you began, but the words dissolved into a strangled gasp as he pressed his thumb harder against your sensitive nub.

“That’s it, pretty for me, so fucking pretty." He says, coaxing you like a pied piper. His voice was low and intoxicating. Everything about it just burns you as much as his touch did. "I’ve got you. Always.”

With one final stroke, the beautiful echo, that blossoming coil inside you just snapped, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body tensed, your thighs tightening around his waist as you buried your face in his shoulder to muffle the cry that escaped your lips.

He held you through it, his fingers slowing their movements as your body shook with aftershocks. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your head, his lips pressing soothing kisses against your temple.

When you finally relaxed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His eyes were soft, his gaze filled with a mixture of adoration and satisfaction that made your chest tighten.

“Better?” he asked, his tone light but tinged with affection.

You nodded, still too dazed to form words. He chuckled, adjusting his hold on you as he gently set you back on your feet. Your legs wobbled like jello against him, and he immediately steadied you, his hands firm but gentle on your waist.

“Careful, darling.” he murmured, his brow furrowing in concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, babe.” you managed, your voice breathless but steady. “More than fine.”

His lips quivered into a soft smile, and he leaned down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “Good.”

As the reality of your surroundings sank back in, you couldn’t help but glance around, the abandoned stairwell suddenly feeling far less private. “We should… probably get back, babe.” you said, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “It’s getting pretty late.”

He followed your gaze, his expression calm and unbothered. “Let them wonder where we went.” he said simply, shrugging off the concern as he adjusted his coat around your shoulders. "It's none of their business."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the mischievous glint in his eyes stopped you cold. He leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “After all… I’m not done with you yet.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he was guiding you gently back against the wall. His lips found yours again, this time slower, deeper, igniting the fire he’d only begun to stoke. His hands trailed down your sides, their warmth chasing away the chill of the stairwell as he pressed his body firmly against yours.

“Kento, babe.” you murmured, a weak attempt to regain your composure, but he silenced you with a kiss that left no room for argument.

“I missed you, a damn whole lot.” he said, his voice low and filled with longing as his hands slid to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly once more. "Like I always do."

Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, your heart pounding as the desire you’d both tried to suppress flared back to life. He pressed against you, the hardness of his arousal undeniable even through the fabric of his pants. The teasing grind of his hips against yours drew a gasp from your lips, and he smirked, his composure slipping just enough to show his need.

"Really....." Kento effortlessly whispered to you, his voice vibrating onto you like a wave crashing onto you at sea. "We shouldn't schedule much this New Year, hm? So we can be together."

"Hm.....Kento." You echo back to him, intoxicated by his touch. "'ake time....for me, okay? I'll.....I'll do the same."

“That's the plan already, you know?" he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear as he shifted, his hands tugging at the barriers between you. “Let me take care of you, like I always do.”

Soon after that, you could feel the wet, thick head of his member pressed against your entrance, the heat and pressure stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped as he began to push in slowly, his movements deliberate, almost reverent.

It was too good, too damn easy to fall into a high to. You could feel the stretch inside of you, it made you so full. Everything about it was intoxicating, your body yielding to him as he filled you inch by inch, your walls clinging to every part of him like he was made to fit.

It was like he was trying to make a home inside of it. Inside of you. And it just made you feel so good. A deep, guttural groan rumbled in his chest, his forehead dropping to rest against yours as he buried himself deeper.

“Darling.” he muttered, his voice strained and low. “You feel so perfect.”

You whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support as your body adjusted to the delicious fullness. The sensation was overwhelming, the slight ache quickly giving way to a heat that spread through your entire body.

“Kento.” you breathed, the sound a mix of plea and surrender.

His large hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he pulled back slightly before thrusting forward again, the motion slow but unyielding. Each movement sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through you, and the friction only made you crave more.

“God, this is so…..you feel so good.” he groaned, his voice rough and filled with need. “You’re so tight. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go slow like this with you.”

“Don’t, babe.” you gasped, your fingers digging into his shoulders. “Don’t hold back.”

His carmel eyes darkened almost instantly at your words, a flicker of something primal overtaking his usual control. With a growl, he began to move in earnest, each thrust deeper and harder than the last. The sound of your bodies meeting echoed in the stairwell, a symphony of shared desire that neither of you could hold back.

The rough texture of the wall behind you only heightened the sensation, grounding you as he took you apart piece by piece. You could feel your back burn against the concrete wall as you throw your head back against it. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his body claimed yours.

“Darling, my pretty baby darling.” he murmured against your lips, his voice ragged and desperate. “You’re mine. Always mine.”

“Yes, babe. Yours….O–oh…only! Only yours!” you managed to gasp, your head tilting back as he kissed along your throat, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

The coil in your core once more tightens with every spark you feel as he pushes deeper over and over in a fast pace. Everything about the pleasure you feel keeps building to an almost unbearable peak. It just felt too good. He felt too good.

His pace quickened, his breaths coming in harsh pants as his control began to slip. One hand slid between your bodies, his thumb finding your sensitive nub and rubbing it in quick, precise circles.

You cried out, your body arching into him as the tension finally snapped. Pleasure crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly around him as your release tore through you.

“Fuck, fuck. I’m close!” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. With one final, deep thrust, he shuddered against you, his body going taut as he spilled himself inside you.

For a moment, the only sound was your shared, labored breathing, the intimacy of the moment wrapping around you like a cocoon. His forehead rested against yours, his hands gentle as they smoothed over your thighs and waist, grounding you both.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern despite the lingering haze of pleasure in his eyes.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “More than okay.”

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your temple before gently setting you back on your feet. His hands remained steady on your waist, holding you as your legs wobbled beneath you. You leaned into him, your breath uneven, your body still humming from the intensity of what had just transpired.

But that wasn’t the end of it, of course.

The hunger in his eyes hadn’t faded, and neither had yours. The raw desire that simmered between you was far from sated, and you both knew it. Kento’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing soft, teasing circles against your hips as he studied your flushed face.

“I just think that I…..” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “I still want more.”

You barely had time to process his words before your lover’s lips were on yours again, roughly consuming you in a kiss that was as demanding as it was all encompassing. Your hands quickly found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. Your body instinctively responds to the magnetic pull of his, over and over.

“We shouldn’t…” you whispered between kisses, though your voice lacked conviction. “It’s going to make people suspicious.”

“Probably not.” he agreed, his smirk returning as his hands slipped under the hem of your dress, trailing up your thighs. “But repercussions are damned when we’re hungry. I can’t stop. I know you won’t too..”

The wall pressed against your back once more as he claimed you all over again, the cool stairwell air doing nothing to cool the fire that raged between you. It was reckless, but neither of you cared. Not here, not now. Hunger demanded to be fed, and with Nanami Kento, you were always insatiable.

After a while, you were both removed from the plane of normalcy and you were both panting with joyous weariness. He presses a kiss against your jaw as you keep a steady bite on his neck. He grumbles against you as he gathers himself from seeing stars. You follow him soon after. You released his neck and started kissing his lips once more.

When you both found yourself satisfied, you both started to make yourselves as presentable as possible. Well, at least what remains presentable and salvageable for both of you. Kento ripped too much of your outfit as much as you did. Still, you both did not care.

“We should get you cleaned up.” he murmured, his tone tender as he placed his coat on your shoulders and adjusted it tenderly on you, to keep you warm. “I’ll call my car and then we’ll just hop in there. We’ll go to my hotel, okay?”

You nodded again, your cheeks flushing as the reality of your surroundings began to sink in. But as he laced his fingers with yours and led you back toward the main building, you couldn’t help but feel a warm glow of contentment.

Of course, things too did not go the way you both wanted once again. You didn’t know that there were many SNS photographers and gossip journalists waiting to catch some other celebrity in that area where Kento’s car was going to be. And that’s just how you were caught, not thinking about the logistics of it all.

But how could you? It was New Years.

You just got mindlessly blown with really, really, really good sex.

And you were together once again with your lover.

How could you think about anything else after all that?

Now, back in the present, the two of you sat in the quiet of your shared apartment. Nanami Kento’s calm demeanor was a stark contrast to your frazzled nerves. You sighed, looking up to your lover who presses a kiss on your forehead.

“You know this is going to be everywhere, babe.” you said, gesturing toward your phone.

He set his tea down and leaned back, regarding you with a look of quiet amusement. “Let them talk, darling. It was bound to happen eventually.”

You groaned. “Eventually I didn't need to include hickeys and a ruined coat. And oh god….. was I leaking your cum?”

You took your phone once again to inspect, but your lover took your phone with his free hand and put it away. You looked at him, almost sulky as one would look as a child. He laughs. He presses another kiss on your hair. Kento couldn’t help but smirk. Both acts had made your heart skip a beat.

“You look good in my coat though. I could hardly care if my cum was dripping out, darling.” he said simply. “I’m pretty sure I look just as ridiculous. You mauled my neck so happily after that first round.”

“You do look like you’ve been ravaged.” you shot back, though your cheeks burned at the memory. “I mean, it made sense at the time….I was hungry.”

“Hm, I don’t blame you.”

You sighed. “We’ll contact our PR and everyone later, okay?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Hm.” he said softly, his voice filled with the steady reassurance you’d always loved about him. “We’ll be fine, okay? I don’t care as long as I am with you.”

You sighed, leaning into his warm touch. “I guess the secret’s out, huh?”

He nodded, his gaze warm. “I don’t mind. As long as we're happy together, I say let them say whatever they want.”

You blinked at him. “You think so?”

“Hm.” He smiles at you. “Because no one will truly know who you are to me. That’s only mine. They’ll have a headline, but I’ll have the whole spreadsheet.”

You feel like your heart is melting with his tenderness. “I love you. So so much.”

“I love you too.” He kisses your lips, smiling wider at you.

And just like that, the storm outside felt a little less overwhelming.

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soldiersgirl · 4 months ago

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— 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 .ᐟ

summary — the work week was harder than expected, but it was nothing a little clubbing and some casual fun couldn't fix. but nothing about soldier boy is casual and you look delicious enough to eat.

cw — 18+, smut, p in v (wrap it), mentions of drinking and smoking, clubbing, oral (f & m receiving), fingering, teasing, nicknames (good girl, princess, sweetheart, slut), biting, cold/sweet ben. (lmk if i forgot any!)

word count — 2,241 words

the lights flashed, the drinks flowed, hips were swung and cigarettes were smoked without a care in the world. the work week at vought had been brutal; you had thought that working marketing for vought was your biggest dream, but turned out to be a nightmare in disguise.

all you needed was a way to get your frustrations out and somebody already had their sight on you; watching you like a predator stalks its prey. waiting to strike. to devour. consume.

the beat overtook your body as you danced with your girlfriends at the bar, wildly rocking your hips and laughing loudly as you held onto each other for support. your balance like a newborn fawn after the countless tequila shots and free drinks from sleazy vought business men.

1 shot, 2 shot, 3 shot, 4. one shot for each time ashley had either berated or shouted at you in the past week in front of the whole team, reducing you to nothing but a mess.

"do you really think homelander would write some fucking shit like this?" "you need to cover a-trains fucking live right now, he goes off the rails without a shitting script!" "how far is your head up your own asshole that you can't see the mistakes?"

all you wanted to do was quit, but your best friend had really stuck her neck out and gotten you the position and quitting would only fuck it up for both of you. you swallowed your pride like you swallowed the bitter alcohol and plastered on a fake smile. you couldn't work out if you were trying to convince your friends or yourself of your happiness anymore.

your eyes couldn't help but scan the crowd, it felt like something was calling out to you. craving your attention. all you could see was the heaving, starved movements of the dancers. bodies grinding against each other in desperation, sweet nothings and dirty promises whispered in ears. skin pulled, kisses shared, drinks drunk and spilt. until you noticed him.

a smirk on his face, a cigarette dangling from his plush lips framed by soft stubble, and an intimidating gaze. his stance frozen and domineering as the crowd ebbed and flowed around him like a lonesome island in a vast ocean. frozen, like the unstable fawn caught in the headlights, you are captured by his harsh gaze as he follows your every move. he notices how your breath hitches, how your heartbeat quickens, how your brain tries to make sense of where you'd seen him before.

you tug on your friends arm, tearing her attention away from some old businessman who is too eager for his own good. you hold her hands tight as your eyes frantically dart over to him, not daring to look away for too long. she catches the hint and her eyes drift to the dominating figure in the crowd and a small smirk spreads across her face.

"you want to be careful of that one." she laughs, her shoulders shaking as she glances you over.

"have you seen him before? he looks so familiar..." you shout over the bass and drum as you hesitantly follow her lead to the dance floor, your heels click-clacking in sync.

"we fucked once, i think. can't really recall. you don't recognise him?" she shouts in your ear as you reach the epicenter of the crowd and let the music flow through you. you give him one last look and shake your head. "it's......" she tries to shout, but the thrum of the bass muffles her voice. you struggle to concentrate, to listen to her warnings but your mind has fogged over. all control has been relinquished to the beat that flows over you like rain during a thunderstorm.

your body hums and tingles as you sway and swing your hips to the techno music that blasts, but all the while you feel his glare burn a hole into the nape of your neck. before you even know it you feel hands grab your hips, almost carefully, before you feel his stubble scratching against your neck. his hands travel wildly as you lean your head back to rest it on his wide shoulders and melt into the sensation of him. he grabs and spins you around. you're confronted with his infamous sage green eyes that you could drown in surrounded by a mask of intimidation and power.

soldier boy. with a big bald wolf-ish grin plastered on his face, ready to swallow you whole.

a blur. tongues and teeth clashing. hips grinding. promises whispered. dragged to a back door exit and thrown into a waiting car. all leading up to now in a dingy motel, still fully clothed and on your knees in front of him. your heart beating through your chest as you gaze up at him through your heavy lashes as he admires you, so willing to be good for him. he groans as he fully takes you in; your baited breath and your wanting eyes. "shit, sweetheart. those eyes could melt any man's heart." soldier boy sighs as he reaches forward and runs his calloused finger over your lower lip, tugging on it and eliciting a whine from you. "too bad, i lost mine years ago." he comments nonchalantly as he drags his hand away from you and rests it on his belt. "now, are you going to be a good girl? or are we going to have some fuckin' problems?" his voice is rough and cold as he watches you shake your head. "i asked you a question, i expect an answer." he sighs, louder. "i'll be good, so good." you whisper, unaware of what you've unleashed upon yourself. with a smirk, he nods as if to say "go ahead" and you waste no time reaching up, undoing his belt and tugging down his moss green supe-trousers. you marvelled at the sight of him. the veins that curled around it, the pinkish hue of the tip, the girth that could break you. instinctively, you wrap your hand around it and slowly tug on it, earning a long exhale from him as he throws his head, urging you to grip harder and go faster. you lick a stripe from the base to the tip of his hard cock and twirl your tongue around his reddened tip, the taste of salt lingering in your mouth.

before you know it, soldier boy has threaded his fingers through your soft hair and tugs on it as your lips glide up and down his length, fully taking him and relishing in his soft moans. his hips start to rock, burying himself in your throat as your nails dig into his strong thighs. the pain barely registering to him as he loses himself in the way your skilled lips and tongue work against him.

"you look so fucking good like this, sweetheart. my dick.." he grunts and pulls out, letting you breathe for a second. "down your slutty throat." he gently strokes your cheek as you catch your breath, the tears and spit glistening before guiding himself back into the comforting warmth of your mouth around him. he watches, almost adoringly, as you stroke and suck on his thick cock, your eyes never leaving his as you give into your urges.

"does it make you feel good? sucking on soldier's boy cock like this? so fuckin' desperate for me, aren't you?" he mutters with a devilish smile. "i don't even know your name and yet, you're so ready for me, baby. fuck..." his eyes roll into the back of his head as you once again deep-throat him. "fuck this." he grunts before pulling himself out of your mouth with a wet 'pop!'. he roughly grabs you by the hair on the nape of your neck, tugs you up and push you down onto his cluttered bed. he positions you how he wants and you follow willingly like his little doll as lays you on your back, with your knees bent and your pink panties on full display.

he lets out a loud groan as he notices the wet patch that had only gotten bigger and bigger since he first laid his strong hands on you in the club. you whimper as his rough fingers trace the outline of your panties, grazing against your soft thighs. the difference between his tentative touches and harsh words that make your heart soar before making it almost beat out of your chest.

"all this for me, baby? so wet just for me?" he mocks with a fake pout as his fingers finally drag over your clothed clit, pressing down on it and watching you squirm.

"soldier bo-" you start but he cuts you off with a light slap to your thigh.

"ben." he interjects, a silent warning.

"ben." you mutter. "please, please.. just touch me, fuck me. anything.." your breath quickens as you finally give in and plead; god, it was like music to his ears. he pulls off the last of his supe-suit, leaving him completely exposed as you lay still in your heels and dress, not daring to move without his permission. he nudges your legs further apart with his chin before delicately kissing the inside of your legs, his scruff scratching you as he torturously slowly makes his way to where you both want him to be. he inhales your sweet scent; the fear, uncertainty and desire rolling off of you.

finally. he hooks his fingers and yanks your panties down, exposing your slick and needy folds to him. you can hear him lowly hum as he admires the mess he's made of you. he can't hold himself back anymore. his hunger is overwhelming and you're being served on a plate to him. he tenderly kisses your clit before completely drowning himself in you and letting his tongue explore you.

his tongue prods and glides expertly into every divot and crevice as your fingers thread through his soft, chestnut brown hair and cry out from the pleasure.

"fuck, ben! oh my go-" you softly moan before his fingers slide into you with ease, your walls inviting and immediately moulding to his thick fingers. like a man starved, he swallows all you have to offer him. each moan and plea that rolls off your tongue only fuels his desire for more. more.

he struggles to pull himself back from your warm, wet cunt and your addicting taste but he can't wait anymore and neither can you. your breath hitches and your legs shake with anticipation as you realise his next move. his slick-covered mouth curls into a smirk as he towers over you, forcefully pushing your dress up and roughly lifting your hips to meet his leaking, wanting tip. a unified, grumbled moan escape you both as he effortlessly pushes himself past your slippery folds and nestles himself deeply against your mound. his cock expertly kisses your cervix before he lazily pulls back and slams into you with a force unlike any other.

pornographic moans and the squelch of your wetness fills the seedy motel room. he can't tear his eyes away from you for a second, afraid he'll miss a twitch of your lips, a deep heaving of your chest or your eyes rolling into the back of your head. both his hands curl around your throat, enjoying the feeling of your quickened heartbeat under the pad of his thumb.

"you look good enough to eat, princess." he pants. "you're so fucking tight, god.. look at it." he looks adoringly down. "just keeps suckin' me in so deep." he swears under his breath as he hitches your legs around his waist, your heels clicking together with each harsh thrust. he leans down and grazes his teeth over your chest, spilling out of your little black dress. he sighs and bites down on your breast, hard, earning a yelp from you as you try to push him away. he licks and sucks on the marked skin, right above your fluttering heart. he sucked and nibbled at the sensitive area, as if he could delve right in and eat your heart right out. you whimper his name as your orgasm builds and threatens to explode.

"ben, please- fuck, please. let me cum. i-" your words come out a jumbled mess as his pace quickens, enjoying how you fall apart so easily beneath him.

"fucking cum for me. cum on my fucking cock. let them know how good soldier boy fucks your pussy, slut." he whispers into your neck as he, somehow, manages to shove himself even deeper and your walls clamp down around him. your body jerks and a series of mewls escape you before he follows swiftly behind and fills you up. he harshly grabs your face and kisses you deeply as his thrusts turn lazy and eventually stop.

he pulls back an inch or two to brush away the hair from your face and places a soft, unexpected kiss on your forehead. but like before, his demeanour quickly shifts, and he pushes himself off of the bed, gathers your underwear and carelessly throws it to you. but you catch the way his eyes linger on you, noticing something innocent behind his hardened eyes. you knew this wouldn't be the last time you'd see him.

that boy is a monster; a beast. and you're the beauty, willing to let yourself fall prey to him and his wicked ways.

authors note — AAAHHH MY FIRST FIC EVER. what the fuck??!! please be sweet, this was a terrifying process to go through and i hope no one is disappointed 😞 — based on the banger by lady gaga that i've been listening to on repeat for 2 months straight.

#millie writes #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x yn #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy x you #soldier boy smut #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles x reader #the boys smut #Spotify

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aureatelys · 1 month ago

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lunch break

pairing: jesse/fem!reader genre: smut smut smut w.c.: 5.5k a/n: the first scene of 2x03 had me blacking out and then i wrote this in two days. this is my first time writing for jesse, pls be gentle and i hope you enjoy because i had so much fun writing this <3 ty for my dear lover for enabling me. you can also imagine either show or game jesse for this!

summary: You've been distracted by your boyfriend all morning. Jesse knows you better than you expected.

c.w.: 18+ MDNI, porn no plot, post 2x02 but joel lives (!), established relationship, jesse is sexy and reader is horny for his arms, oral sex (f receiving), brief fingering, unprotected p in v sex (lets pretend birth control exists ok), fluff, no y/n

read below or on ao3 here <3

You’re starting to wonder if you’ve gone insane.

Jackson has been somber for the past several months—mourning all the losses after the walls were breached and focusing on rebuilding. The makeshift hospital was still as busy as ever, and every time word spread that another person had succumbed to their injuries, the weight that seemed to blanket over the town grew heavier, quieter.

Luckily, you hadn’t lost anybody you were particularly close with. Even then, you’re not sure if you would even have the time to mourn them with how hard the council was pushing any and all able-bodied people to help in the rebuild. Your body was sore and hands were covered in blisters as you helped carry logs of wood to the main street.

So, you’re not exactly sure why you’re about to start drooling, heart thudding in your chest and pulsing between your legs, as you watch Jesse lift a sledgehammer to pound a wooden pillar into the ground.

You stop in your tracks, arms aching despite the small bundle of wood you’re carrying, as you stare, absolutely transfixed.

Jesse always ran warm, warmer than you, so despite the chill in the spring air, he was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that showcased his broad shoulders and thick arms. You watch as his muscles bulge with every lift of the sledgehammer, the prominent veins running along his forearms drawing your attention. The buttons of his shirt were undone, providing you a delicious peak of his chest, as if he was teasing you.

Sweat was already starting to form along his hairline, causing a few strands to start sticking to his skin. His pants were tight, unfairly hugging his hips, his thick thighs straining through the fabric. If you strain your ears hard enough, now able to discern the low cadence of his voice through a crowd, you could detect the quiet grunts with every lift of the sledgehammer.

You blame the fact that you both have been too busy with the repairs and Jesse being added to the council for the way molten heat begins to pool at your core, fingers twitching with the rampant desire to get your hands on him.

The only time you’ve been able to spend with Jesse lately was when he would crawl into your bed late at night, usually when you were already asleep. Sometimes you were able to wake up before he had to leave and would only have time to press your face into his chest, inhaling and memorizing his clean scent. Other times he’d already be gone, leaving a short and concise note but with a crooked little heart next to his name.

So you’re a little sexually frustrated, okay?

“You alright?”

You startle out of your thoughts, tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend continuing to grunt extremely inappropriately, to Tommy sitting on the sidelines while he waited for his turn.

He’s watching you with a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips despite the weariness physically weighing on his shoulders.

Tommy’s nice, always has been, and seemed to be around you more lately after he found out you and Jesse were a thing. You’re not exactly sure why, but you had found yourself spending more time with him and Maria, Ellie, and even Joel. You were starting to feel like you had an actual group of people that cared about you.

His question seems to have caught Jesse’s attention. He stops working, resting the sledgehammer onto the ground and leaning against it, raising an eyebrow at you.

Jesse’s protective, always has been, but even moreso in the past several weeks. He says it’s because he knows you and how you’re a little reckless, impulsive, but you know that’s not entirely true.

You feel heat crawl up your neck at being caught ogling, and you don’t even bother to tiptoe around Tommy like you know other people have been doing after Joel’s near-death experience when you mutter a “shut up” and stalk away.

You hear Tommy laugh. The sound makes you smile, your shoulders loosening up because he’s been so stressed lately with the rebuild and worrying about Joel still in the hospital.

You ignore the weight of Jesse’s gaze digging into your back.

You’re unfortunately tasked with clearing out some additional rubble from a nearby building, which means your entire morning is spent with Jesse’s grunting and groaning within earshot as he worked only several feet away.

It’s a cruel form of torture, and you almost drop at least 2 pieces of concrete on your feet because you were too enraptured by the way you could see his muscles shift underneath his shirt.

By the time your group breaks for lunch, you’re shifting uncomfortably due to the wetness gathering in your panties and brushing against your thighs. The ache in your shoulders and hips pales in comparison to the ache in your core as Jesse sidles up next to you silently.

“Ready?” he asks, slightly out of breath and brushing his hair away from his forehead with his wrist. He’s so hot, it’s really unfair.

It was Jesse’s suggestion to take a lunch together whenever you could if he wasn’t busy. Your heart had thumped an erratic and concerning pace when he brought it up, his voice low and tinged with an endearing sort of bashfulness.

It had taken you awhile but you’ve come to find out that Jesse was more affectionate in private than in public. He liked to spend time with you, enjoyed being in your presence and sitting in silence. He didn’t have much dating experience besides Dina, who often took the reins in their relationship, so him making an effort to make time for you despite his busy schedule was new to the both of you.

“Yep,” you say, hoping he doesn’t notice the rasp in your voice, and steps in time with him as you head to your house only a couple blocks away.

Jesse has only been able to join you for lunch a handful of times, often having to give you a regretful smile before being pulled away for an emergency council meeting or to help another person on the other side of town. You didn’t mind, you knew he was busy, knew that this was what to be expected after he had told you that night that he was talking to Maria about being added to the council.

You admired him and his tenacity for wanting to help the people of Jackson. He was undoubtedly the most responsible person in your age group and it only made sense that he got added since he was friendly, even had a golden boy reputation.

You knew that he couldn’t talk about what happened during their meetings, even to you, and you honestly didn’t have much to talk about besides the fact that your neighbor’s dog slept on your porch last night.

So you two walked in comfortable silence, his bare arm brushing against your sleeve every few paces. Even through your multiple layers, the warmth of him still bled through the sweaters and was doing nothing to quell the building heat underneath your skin. The smell of him and his sweat, mixing with the smoky burning of wood nearby, was starting to make you feel faint.

By the time you two make it to your house, you were one second away from falling to your knees and scrambling to unbuckle his belt to tug his pants down and take him in your mouth.

It’s when the front door closes behind you when Jesse asks “You okay?”

You’re toeing off your boots and tugging off your jacket to throw over the rusty coatrack by the door before making your way to the kitchen, already preoccupied by trying to remember what sandwich ingredients you could scrounge together. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seemed distracted today.”

You have no idea. “I’m just tired today.”

Jesse hums, and you think you’re off the hook and can focus on rushing to make a sandwich because Tommy does not give you guys enough time for lunch, when he’s suddenly pressing up against you, his large hands resting on your hips and mouth inches from your ear as he mutters “So that’s why you kept staring at me today? Because you were distracted?”

You huff out a laugh, setting down your butter knife, because you’re honestly not surprised. Jesse was possibly the most perceptive person you knew, of course he would notice that you were ogling him all morning. You knew at this point, there was no harm in hiding anymore.

You lean back into his chest, sturdy and warm, as he noses at the nape of your neck. “And what if I was?”

“Just making sure.” And then he’s spinning you around until the edge of the counter digs into the small of your back and pressing his mouth to yours.

He’s gentle, always gentle, his hands skimming up your sides reverently, as if worried you were about to disappear into thin air. His lips are unbearably soft, maybe a little chapped, as you kiss him back and part your lips with a sigh. He tastes like the stale coffee from this morning and it’s the best thing you’ve had all day.

You loop your arms around his broad shoulders, tugging him closer until the hard line of his body was pressed up against yours. You card your fingers through the tufts of hair at the nape of his neck, humming at the sensation of being trapped by his body, and experimentally tug.

Jesse lets out a low groan, muffled against your mouth, and then his large hands slide down to your ass to squeeze once before suddenly lifting you up.

You squeal against his lips, causing him to smile, and your legs instinctually come to wrap around his waist despite already being seated on the counter. The coldness seeping through your jeans shocks you and provides a delicious contrast with Jesse’s heated body against yours.

When you separate from each other, you’re panting into each other’s open mouths. Jesse leans his forehead against yours, hands on your thighs, and from this proximity, you’re mesmerized by the fan of his eyelashes against his cheekbones as he catches his breath and the way his hair tickled your face.

When he opens his eyes to peer into yours, your breath gets stuck in your throat along with something else you can’t name at his hungry gaze, eyes dark and pupils wide.

Jesse has always been able to say so much with just his eyes; a sharp warning that Maria was on her way to give you a stern talking to, warm fondness when you were telling him about what you bartered for today at the market, or primal desire whenever you stripped and crawled into bed with him.

“Are you okay with skipping lunch today?” he asks, voice a low timbre that sends a shiver running down your spine. His hands, rough with the day’s work, knead your thighs through your jeans, and the silent strength in his thick fingers and the flex of the muscles in his biceps has you licking your lips. You could feel the heat of his cock, hard and confined in his jeans, against your inner thigh.

“Are you going to eat something else?”

Jesse rolls his eyes, an exasperated smile tugging at his lips that he tries to hide. It has you beaming. He squeezes your inner thighs a bit harder, as if in a warning. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Yeah, but you love me,” you say, before you could think better of it.

It’s slight, but you can tell he pauses by the way his breath catches and his hands falter. A rush of panic rises up your throat and you say, as nonchalantly as you could, “As long as you sneak me something from the food hall later?”

You hope he can’t tell that you’re holding your breath, nearly praying that he doesn’t point out your slip up.

His eyes soften, causing a sudden weakness in your chest, before he’s reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Deal.”

You give him a shaky smile. You know he sees right through you.

But it doesn’t matter, because he’s leaning in to kiss you again, harder, rougher, as if he can’t find the words he wants to say and lets his desire for you to do the talking for him.

You melt into him, you always do, and when you press your palm against his chest to feel the steady rhythm of his heart, you’ve never felt so safe in your entire life.

“I guess we better hurry up then,” he whispers, giving you a slight smirk, before his hands expertly unbuttons your jeans, tugs down the zipper, and then helps you tug them down all the way off your legs.

You nod rapidly, causing him to chuckle breathily. You reach out for him to grab at his arms, pulling him in to kiss you again.

He obliges, because he always does when you peer up at him with glazed over eyes, as if he’s already fucked you.

You hum against his mouth, the ache in your pussy starting to become unbearable. You’re barely aware of his hands running down your bare thighs, causing goosebumps to rise, before he’s lifting your legs up by the knees to prop your feet up on the counter.

The new position has you spread open and exposed, dimly aware of the way you could feel your panties sticking to your pussy. You’re expecting him to rub his thick fingers alongside your seam through the fabric, coaxing a breathy whimper from your lips, before tugging it aside to thrust a finger inside of your soaking entrance.

You don’t expect him to pull away. You definitely don’t expect him to fall to his knees, face achingly close to your center, while his hands squeeze at the flesh of your thighs before prying them apart.

“Oh,” you exhale, eyes wide, as your hands scramble to the dull edge of the counter as your mind reels at the heady image of Jesse, sweet and courteous, on his knees. His face inches from your pussy.

“Fuck, baby, you’re already so wet,” he whispers, as if in awe. His right hand comes to trace the edge of your panties, a plain baby blue color, while he stares unblinkingly at the definite wet spot at the center.

“I was just kidding, you don’t actually have to—”

“I want to,” he says, and when he looks up at you, your chest aches at the tender affection clear on his face. “Is that okay?”

And it’s not like he hasn’t gone down on you before. In fact, it seems like he tries to eat you out any chance he got, which you were definitely not complaining about. You still shivered when you thought about the first time he ate you out, the first time you ever came from another man’s mouth on you, and how your thighs trembled as you squeezed around his head. You swear you had thought you died and gone to heaven.

Now, however…

“We’ve just had a long morning; you know I sweat a lot…” you trail off. It sounds weak, even to your own ears.

Another exasperated sigh, though this time Jesse doesn’t even bother hiding the fond smile. “You know I don’t care about that.”

But he waits. He stays on his knees, thumbs tracing comforting and distracting circles against your inner thighs, and he just waits. For your permission.

You don’t think your heart can swell any further before it’s bound to burst. “Okay.”

Jesse’s smile grows, making him look utterly sweet and boyish, before leaning in to press an open-mouthed kiss on your inner thigh, and then another, and then another.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles, as his kisses begin moving inwards to your aching cunt.

You exhale unsteadily, thighs already starting to shake from holding this position and the sensation of his mouth on you. The scratch of his slightly chapped lips, the damp kisses he leaves that cool as soon as he moves to the next inch of skin, and his hands that have moved to your thighs and taking some of your weight, has you nearly begging for him to hurry up.

As if he can read your mind, he pauses, his mouth hovering over the crotch of your panties that have undoubtedly melded to your pussy.

“Besides,” Jesse whispers, and the barest brush of his lips against the fabric has you shivering. You resist the urge to card your fingers through his hair to tug his face closer. “I have to take care of my girl, right?”

And then he’s pressing his open mouth to your cunt, deliberately nowhere close to your clit, but the action still wretches a gasp out of you. His mouth and his breath are hot as he takes his time, as if warming you up despite the fact that you two do not have enough time for this.

But he just looks so pretty, you think as you glance down at him. His eyes were shut, savoring you, brow relaxed as if he wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world besides between your thighs.

“Jesse..” you sigh, slightly frustrated, as you thread your fingers through his hair to push out of his face. Your hips jolt forward, impatient.

He opens his eyes at that and the heat in his expression has you wanting to scoot forward on the counter until your ass was hanging off, if only to get closer to him. He cocks his eyebrow at you and mutters something suspiciously like you’re lucky that I like you so much.

Before you could question him, he’s parting his lips and then laving his tongue over you, flat and over your clit through the fabric of your panties.

You let out a soft moan, your hand on his hair tightening. The action causes Jesse to groan, muffled between your thighs, and then he’s diving in fully, pressing sloppy wet kisses against your core.

It’s heavenly, especially after not being touched for several weeks, but it’s still not enough as your hips shift forward to chase the feeling of his warm mouth.

His hands on your thighs tighten, another warning, before he’s finally dipping his thumb into the crotch of your panties to pull it aside and exposing your soaking cunt to him.

You don’t even have time to gasp at the rush of cool air against your warm skin before his mouth is on you again, tongue parting your puffy folds as he licks a stripe up your seam.

A shaky moan falls from your lips, sheer ecstasy at finally being touched without some stupid fabric in the way dripping into your veins and making you drop your head back. Your thighs begin to shake from where you still have your feet propped up on the counter, spreading you open further.

Jesse has always taken his time with you, steady and focused and knowing exactly what to do to have you unraveling in his mouth. He gathers the wetness increasingly dripping from your entrance, tasting you and groaning, spurring him on even further to press his face harder against your cunt. His strong nose prods at your clit and it has you choking on a gasp as heat begins to curl up your spine.

He traces along your folds with a firm tongue, the lewd noises from his mouth on you filling your ears, before circling deliberately around your clit.

Your mouth drops open, eyes rolling back, and you blame the fact that it’s been way too long since you’ve had his mouth on you for the way your orgasm rapidly approaches.

“Fuck, Jesse,” you gasp, head lolling over your shoulder as you stare, glassy-eyed, as he meets your gaze from where he’s kneeling in your fucking kitchen with his mouth on your pussy. “I’m—"

He closes his eyes and presses his face further against your core, tongue flicking your clit back and forth at a relentless pace, while one of his hands leaves your thighs to pull your folds apart and circle at your entrance. He immediately pushes it in, easily despite how thick his fingers were due to how slick you were, and the pressure has you letting out a high-pitched whine.

Your thighs were absolutely aching, feet starting to slip from the sweat forming all over your body and getting onto the counter, so you finally let your legs fall forward to place your thighs on his wide shoulders.

Jesse takes it in stride, as he does most things, and begins to suck earnestly at your clit while his finger thrusts into you, working and stretching you open so you were ready for his cock.

The thought of him fucking you, bending you over in the open air of the kitchen, has you squeezing your thighs around Jesse’s head and coming hard into his mouth. You writhe on the counter, hips bucking, but his firm grip on your thigh keeps you steady as he works you through it, tongue gentler as he runs it flat against your clit.

He doesn’t let up, that asshole, when your thighs start twitching around his head from the overstimulation. You let out a strangled noise, brain feeling foggy, as you tug at his hair to pull him up and away from your spent pussy.

When he’s face to face with you, the sight of your slick covering the entire bottom half of his face has you clenching around his finger where he still has it slowly fucking in and out of you. His eyes are tender, if not a little wild, and there’s an unbearably sexy smirk on his swollen lips, his tongue coming out to swipe around his mouth. As if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You’re surging forward, capturing his lips with yours, and the taste of yourself on his tongue has you moaning into his mouth, wrapping your thighs around his hips to pull him closer against you.

He eagerly reciprocates, tongue swiping in your mouth while he ruts against your inner thigh. You could feel the heat of his cock and how hard he was through his jeans, and you’re sure if you looked down, you’d be able to spot where his precum has bled through the fabric.

He begins to trail kisses alongside your jawline until he’s nipping at the spot underneath your ear that has your knees weak. Your own slick on his face, smearing against your cheeks, has your face heating up. “Ready to take my cock, baby?”

“God, yes.” And you’re just about to drop down off the counter so you could bend over and wag your bare ass in his face, before he stops you with a firm hand on your thigh.

Before you could ask him, he’s tugging you forward until your ass was hanging off the counter and begins unbuckling his belt. His eyes find yours, ablaze with hunger, as he rasps in a low voice, “I want to see you.”

Your heart thuds painfully in your chest. You don’t know what to say, what you could say, so you don’t say anything at all and instead lift the hem of your shirt and off, tossing it haphazardly to the floor.

Jesse groans at that, eyes immediately drawn to your breasts and the way your nipples instantly pebble in the cold air. He mutters an expletive before dropping his head to wrap his plush lips around one, as if he couldn’t help himself.

You let out a soft sigh, arousal already starting to flare up so soon after you came in his mouth, and you bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, your knees to wrap around his waist. He’s so fucking broad, strong, unbearably handsome, yet his warm mouth on you is gentle as he swirls his tongue around your nipple.

He releases your swollen bud with a lewd pop, sitting up straighter so he could lean his forehead against yours as he shoves his jeans and briefs down until they bunch up around his thighs. His cock springs free, slapping against his black shirt and leaving a trail of sticky precum. Your mouth waters when he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, head flushed a pretty pink that was begging to be tasted.

He swipes the head between your folds, smearing his precum around and mixing with your slick that was steadily leaking out of you, before notching at your entrance and glancing up at you. You give him a slight nod, barely a tilt of your chin, and then he’s pushing into you slowly.

The stretch is immediate, his finger thick but not thick enough, and it’s bordering on too much despite how needy you felt, nearly aching for his cock. Your hands grip his shoulders, his muscles tensing a small comfort as he strains not to immediately fuck into you.

“Fuck,” Jesse groans, once he’s buried all the way inside of you. “Been thinking about this pussy all day.”

You let out a pathetic whine, hoping he would get the message you were trying to convey that you were running out of time but also he needed to hurry up and fuck you already.

“I know, I know,” he mutters, tone nearly condescending enough that had you clenching around him. He huffs a laugh at that, a hand coming to rest at the small of your back where the counter was digging into you and hikes your legs up higher on his hips.

The new angle has his cock pushing in deeper, and the low, drawn-out groan that you emit takes you by surprise.

“There she is,” he coos. He draws his hips back, carefully, and then he’s fucking back into you hard, punching a gasp out of your chest.

He finally starts a steady pace, one that has your body nearly going limp in his arms and your eyes rolling back in your head. The flesh of his skin slapping against yours and the lewd noises of your soaked cunt swallowing his cock with each thrust fills your ears, broken with Jesse’s heavy grunts.

You’re not even aware of the depraved sounds you were making—breathy whines and strangled noises each time he plunges into you, filling you up over and over again.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so,” he grinds into you, barely swiveling his hips yet causing you to gasp wetly as your hand comes down to claw at his chest. “Fucking good.”

He shuffles closer to you, his hips flush against the back of your thighs, and you thank God that you conveniently moved into an old house with low counters as he hovers over you, broad and solid.

Jesse’s hair continuously falls into his eyes, causing him to swipe at it several times in annoyance. When you follow his gaze, you notice with a thrill that he’s staring at where your bodies meet, and you don’t blame him.

The sight of his cock, shiny with your slick, as he continued to pump into you, your walls clenching and unclenching with every thrust, was heady. Filthy, even. It has your skin growing hot, pressure tightly building again despite feeling like you didn’t have the brain capacity to come again.

The hem of his shirt flutters in your eyeline and Jesse swiftly tugs at it until the fabric is bunched around underneath his armpits, exposing his abs and the way they flexed every time his hips snapped against you.

You lick your lips as your hand drops from where you were clutching at the fabric of his shirt to skim along his abs, sensing the way his muscles shifted and tightened.

God, was he sexy. Broad chest, strong arms, and a thick cock that he knew how to use that had you nearly drooling every time he walked by? You’re not sure how you got so fucking lucky.

“Always take my cock so good, baby,” he grunts, eyes meeting yours before dropping down to the way your tits were bouncing with each thrust. His free hand comes to grope at one of your breasts, squeezing and thumbing at your nipple, and drinking in the way you arch your back into his touch as best as you could with his other hand still protecting your back.

“Jesse, fuck—” you gasp as he picks up a desperate pace. You could tell he was close, most likely been on the brink as soon as he pushed himself inside of you and felt your walls clench around him, but he was holding back. Waiting for you.

His hand drops from your breast to snake in between your legs, causing your breath to get caught in your chest. The steady amount of slick dripping from you made his thumb glide easily in between your folds before circling precisely around your clit.

It’s nearly instantaneous the way your body locks up, thighs tightening from where they’re still hitched around his hips and your hand stilling where you were lightly tracing the contours of his stomach. Your mouth falls open, eyes glassy as you meet Jesse’s.

He curses and then he’s maneuvering you closer, grabbing a hold of your thighs and pushing them back until your knees were pressed into your chest. If possible, his cock slides in deeper, the weight of him as he hovers you becoming heavier. It’s all so fucking good, you’re nearly dizzy from how fast that familiar tightness begins to coil in the pit of your stomach.

“I always take care of my girl, don’t I, baby?” he pants into your open mouth, face merely inches away from yours. He’s relentless, fucking you and splitting you open over and over, you have no choice but to take it.

“Yes, yes—” you gasp, mind going foggy. Your arms come up to wrap around the back of your knees, hand grasping weakly at his forearm. You were so fucking close.

“That’s it, come on,” he whispers raggedly. The low timbre of his voice, smooth and breathless, and the intensity of his gaze melts into you. “That’s my pretty girl.”

Something cold and sharp was digging into your lower back, and when you blink down, you notice that Jesse’s jeans were still bunched around his thighs. The sight of him still in his clothes while you were completely bare and exposed on your kitchen counter had squeezing your eyes shut, fire burning underneath your skin.

You cry out as your orgasm finally hits you with a particular hard brush of his thumb against your clit. You feel yourself clench around him, causing him to bite out a curse, as your hips stutter against his and your thighs tremble.

That’s all that Jesse needs as his thrusts falter, turning more erratic before he’s burying his face into your neck, jerking forward and coming into you with a low, broken groan. His cock twitches inside of you, making you let out a whimper as you can feel his hot come fill you up and threaten to drip out of your aching pussy.

Both of you lay there for a moment, catching your breaths, before Jesse tilts his head to brush his lips against your jawline. Your hair flutters with every exhale. “Are you okay?”

You nod, still feeling dazed, as your throat swallows from how dry it was. “Never better.”

“Good.” He snakes his arms around you so you’re sitting up alongside him when he leans back, placing you gently until you were sitting with your bare ass on the counter.

When he steps back, hissing as his softening cock slides out of you, you let out a soft moan at the sudden emptiness. He quickly leans over you to grab a fresh dishrag, tenderly cleaning you up before tossing the rag to the side.

When you blink up at him, there’s a slight flush to his neck, sweat gathering at his hairline. He shakes out his hand that was placed behind you, shielding you from the sharp edge of the countertop, and you feel a surge of affection when you notice the red lines adorning the top of his hand.

You take his hand in yours to rub at, the roughness of his skin contrasting against yours. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Jesse leans in, nosing at your hairline before pressing a chaste kiss to your temple. “I said I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

You flush at the words, feeling a sudden spark of arousal between your thighs.

Jesse feels the way you attempt to clench your thighs together, still on either side of his hips, and he laughs softly. He steps back to get dressed, easily, since he literally only needed to pull up his pants, however you stay rooted to the spot, taking the opportunity to admire him.

When he notices you’re making no move to get dressed, he rolls his eyes fondly. He stretches a hand out to you, helping you jump down from the countertop but also because he knew how weak in the legs you get after he fucks your brains out. And he’s right, as you nearly plant face first onto the floor when your knees buckle as soon as you step down.

Of course he catches you with a hand around your waist, his thick fingers warm against your skin. He tugs you in close, nearly tucking you into his chest, and the fabric of his clothes against your bare skin causes you to shiver. He starts to rub his hand up and down your side, naturally assuming you were cold.

Handsome, strong, protective, and affectionate. You’re going to keep him forever.

“Come on you, I still have to get you something from the mess hall.”

#jesse tlou x reader #jesse x reader #jesse tlou #tlou fic #the last of us fic #jesse tlou x reader smut #jesse tlou smut #mine #jesse tlou fic #jesse tlou x you #tlou jesse #tlou jesse x reader

952 notes · View notes

zevrra · 6 months ago

Note

same anon from before :3 but another thot

HEAR ME OUT. i saw a tictok the other day about how jayce just does what he’s told and oh em geeeeee commanding jayce to mess Vik up ie. kissing him up and down, jacking him off all while you watch. SCREAMING WITHOUT THE S

includes: [nsfw!!] [18+ only, mdni!!] jayce is an obedient little thing and does what he’s told! :3

ft. jayvik x gn!reader

extra(s): thank you so much for this request anon! this was a lil fun to write ;3 i hope you enjoy tho!! feel free to request for more! (i also barely skimmed over this so forgive any errors kshdjh <3)

“jayce, you’re such a good boy and you listen so well,” you muse, running your fingers through thick brown hair. his soft, hazel gaze stares up at you from his seated position before you, his head resting on your knee. “always so eager to please, hmm? but it’s not me who needs attention tonight.” you add as you rub your thumb across the high of his cheekbone.

jayce had been to another council party and had come back home to you and viktor rather…tipsy. honestly, he was actually really drunk and far more clingy than he normally was as his head rests in your lap. if it were any other night when you didn’t have reports to go over and present before 6 am tomorrow; you’d be all for jayce’s little advances to join in on his and viktor’s fun. but tonight he’d just have to enjoy viktor’s company alone.

“listen to me, pretty boy. i want you to make vik feel good, can you do that for me?”

jayce looks at you with slightly saddened eyes as you caress his face. his pretty, begging eyes were sure to work on you if viktor had not stepped in. “are you sure you cannot join us?” he asks, his own hand brushing along jayce’s bangs as he leans back against your desk.

“i’ll just have to watch tonight.” you respond with a smile.

and that was far easier said than done.

for jayce, he still wanted to have you involved in any way he could get you— and that came down to you ordering him around like a lost puppy. he wouldn’t move, kiss, or touch without your instructions. he wanted to obey every word you spoke while you watched from the sidelines. and vik was no help at all either; he wanted all of this. wanted your gaze to watch their every move while jayce followed your every order to make him feel good. wanted to know you were included just as much as jayce did. and after some pretty pouting and a mix of pleas, you finally agreed.

so between paragraphs breaks of whatever paper you had written up days before; you would take a glance at the men leaning against your desk. coming to said break, you look up from your notes as viktor is pressed against jayce’s chest while jayce trails kisses against his neck, his hands roaming over viktor’s thin waist. somewhere along the line you had managed to get them to strip their shirts off, without tearing any clothes thankfully, but jayce still refused to advance unless you told him so.

“kiss him baby.” you order jayce who happily obliges.

jayce turns viktor’s face towards him, kissing him eagerly as he caresses vik’s jaw with one of his big hands. their tongue’s clash together as they make out and jayce eats up every groan he draws from vik. you watch as jayce presses viktor back up against him, gripping his hips from behind, as the two kiss each other like they were both air they needed to breathe.

you glance briefly away to go over the next paragraph on your notes. you find yourself reading the printed words faster than before solely so your eyes can find the two of them just a little bit faster.

“blegh, i can taste the liquor you drank jayce.” viktor gripes as he breaks the kiss, sticking out his tongue a little. he could clearly taste the strong alcohol lingering on jayce’s tongue; and it almost made you want to taste jayce too, just to confirm.

“m’sorry v…” jayce apologizes with a little drunk pout before chasing after viktor’s lips once more. he returns to kissing viktor as you finally finish the paragraph as your gaze settles on the two once more, while their eyes fall closed as they kiss. you watch as jayce’s tongue runs over vik’s bottom lip before diving between his parted lips and you have to stifle your own whine watching them. you wish you could be jealous but you’re the one who declined in their activity so you’d just have to continue to watch, for now. thank god it was a tasty sight to behold.

“take his pants off, jay. he’s so hard.” you softly instruct, gesturing to the strain on viktor’s pants. even out of the corner of your eye you could see the bulge inside of his pants, begging to be freed. jayce is quick to have his hand travel down the front of vik’s thin torso, fumbling with the belt of his pants, as vik breaks their kiss once more to groan deeply at jayce’s large hand brushing up against his erection. and you can only watch for so long as jayce attempts and fails a few times to undo vik’s belt before you finally reach out with your free hand to unclasp the belt for jayce. who quickly does away with the it, muttering something incoherent about how horrible the design was, while smoothing a hand down the front of vik’s pants; giving him a firm squeeze. you smile at the noise vik makes.

“jerk him off for me pretty boy. make him feel really good.” you sigh, reluctantly turning your eyes to your notes once more.

you glance quickly over your notes while out of the corner of your eye you watch jayce practically manhandle vik. he’s unceremoniously yanking down the other’s underwear and by the sound vik makes you know jayce has wrapped his fingers around his cock. your eyes scan over the paper in your hand as your leg subconsciously bounces. and if listening to viktor softly whine wasn’t enough to distract you, the sound of jayce whispering sweet nothings while stroking viktor off was for sure making it a little harder to pay attention to the paper in your hands. and while you do manage to read the last few words of the paragraph (and you’ve probably had to re-read it a few times) you thank god; for there’s only one more paragraph left now. you debate going over it as quick as you can, finishing off the notes right then and there but before you can, viktor's voice draws your attention to the two once again.

“j-jayce!” viktor whines, throwing his head back. his fingers grip jayce’s forearms, while jayce continues to stroke him off, practically standing on the tip of his toes as he craves more and more from jayce. pleasure written all over his face as his amber eyes stare at jayce’s fingers rubbing over his tip. you knew how sensitive he was and so did jayce, clearly targeting his weak spot; even when drunk he was damn good with his hands. the sight and the noises slipping from both men made your thighs ache with need. you couldn’t deny your own growing want inside of you as you simply watch the two.

“your hand will not be enough jayce.” you mutter, eyes fluttering up at jayce’s drunk gaze. he glances at you just as he plants a heavy kiss against vik’s neck as his hand falters just a little at your words. realization breaks through the fog of his inebriated mind at what you’re telling him to do and he’s quick to act. he repositions viktor to take his spot on the desk and in one swift motion he drops down to his knees, adjusting viktor’s bad leg onto his shoulder to rest, while his hand wraps around the base of vik’s cock once again. without hesitating jayce is just as quick to wrap his mouth around the thick of vik’s head, swallowing him down until the very base.

at this point, you’d rather chew on glass than read these damn notes anymore but you manage to rip your eyes away from them one last time, skimming over the words as fast as you can, retaining absolutely nothing, just to finish off whatever paragraph you had left. finally done with these damn notes, you toss them onto the other side of the desk not being used, and hurriedly stand up. you strip off your shirt before joining viktor’s side. your fingers push through jayce’s dark hair while you capture vik’s lips and you eagerly get to swallow his moans this time. you can just barely taste the lingering liquor on his tongue from jayce but it’s still there; just enough as you press your tongue against vik’s.

viktor and jayce share a groan as you join their little entanglement. you press your other hand against vik’s thigh as jayce continues sloppily sucking him off. vik breaks your shared kiss with a whine. “thought you were just watching tonight?” viktor mutters with a sharp cry as jayce sucks, particularly rough, against his tip.

“yeah well, you two are gonna be the death of me.” you respond before diving back to his lips once more.

after the three of you finished fooling around for the night you’d definitely have to re-read over those damn notes again before tomorrow morning…you weren’t getting any damn sleep tonight.

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7-deadly-cats · 1 month ago

Text

killing me softly | 12

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, ruthie being a bitch, rafe showing signs of jealousy & protectiveness, also rafe making suggestive comments & sexual jokes, virginity mention, reader slowly learning how to handle rafe, slight overthinking/anxiety, chat pics containing cursed images lol

✿ S U M M A R Y O F L A S T P A R T ✿ unfortunately, cara had totally forgotten that her mom's 50th birthday was on friday—the same day as kelce’s party. still, you insisted she shouldn’t cancel just for you. in art class, rafe surprised you with his effort for your project, and the dynamic between you had shifted into something more teasing. you were pretty sure he was actually flirting with you this time—on purpose. later in physics, topper texted to ask if you needed a ride on friday. apparently, cara had mentioned it to him. you agreed.

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 4.4k+

✿ A / N ✿ i had sm fun with this one even though it feels kinda rushed and floppy BUT i can't wait to write the party and i didn't wanna drag on the pre-party stuff for another part. hope you guys enjoy it though and holy shit, i'm so scared of what will happen next bc i don't know yet either. lmk what you think of this one <3

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // T H U R S D A Y

Thursday morning had completely thrown you off your game again.

First, Cara's sudden announcement that she'd totally forgotten her mom's 50th birthday being on Friday; then Rafe (honestly, you could just end the sentence there), who had looked unfairly hot in that stupid cap of his and there was the way he had flirted with you (yes, we’re staying delusional); and finally Topper, asking if you needed a ride on Friday night (which made zero sense because you lived like two seconds from Kelce's house—but hey, who cares, as long as you didn’t have to show up to the party alone).

At least the afternoon spared you from more stress.

Well, that kind of stress anyway.

After school, Cara had driven you home and stayed for lunch with your dad. Afterward, the two of you disappeared into your room to (A) pick an outfit for tomorrow night—because no way were you dealing with that stress last-minute—and (B) because you’d asked her to hang out so you wouldn’t spiral alone with your thoughts because MR CAMERON HAD GIVEN YOU ENOUGH MATERIAL FOR A WHOLE OVERTHINKING SESSION HOLY SHIT.

And (C), she was your bestie. Obviously you loved hanging out with her anyway.

“—and then you pair it with some cute brown western boots, like full cottagecore farm princess vibes, and Rafe’s gonna be like ‘Yee fucking haw, bitch,’” Cara concluded, holding up a cream-colored dress she had pulled out of your closet—one you didn’t even know you owned.

You sat on the edge of your bed, knees pulled up, raising an amused eyebrow. “You do realize no one at that party is gonna be wearing anything even remotely like that. I don’t want a spotlight on me.”

Cara frowned and threw the dress onto the already overflowing chair. “Girl, the biggest spotlight is already on you—and it starts with an R and ends with afe Cameron. So, use the damn stage while it’s still lit.”

“Jesus, save the metaphors for Ms. Langford,” you replied, laughing.

“Hey, if I wanna flex my literary devices, let me.”

You just grinned at her and flopped back on the bed with a groan. “Ugh, it’s all so... messy and annoying and just... why can’t he just say if he’s interested or not? That would make things a whole lot easier. But nooo, it’s this weird maybe-flirting-but-also-not thing—like, what even is that?!”

“Men,” Cara replied simply.

You frowned. “That doesn’t help.”

“Have you ever thought that maybe he’s thinking the same thing?” The mattress dipped as Cara sat down beside you. “Maybe he doesn’t give more obvious signals because he doesn’t know how to read yours. I mean, do you even give him any?”

As if Rafe ever overthought like that. His brain was pure 'in-the-moment' mode. He wasn’t like you, running through every possible scenario in your head at all times.

“Well, I don’t know,” you said, eyebrows scrunched.

Then you suddenly sat up, meeting Cara’s gaze with a little smirk. “I flustered him yesterday. Or... I think I did.”

“WHAT?” Cara’s brows shot up. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

You laughed. “I was so dead tired yesterday, I completely forgot.”

“WELL TELL ME NOW HOLY SHIT.”

“Okay, okay.” You shifted into a cross-legged seat. “It probably just made him uncomfortable but I kinda went on one of my little rambles again. Told him I appreciated how he doesn’t make a big deal out of stuff—like when I’m awkward or mess up. And then I don’t know... he just went quiet for a few seconds. Almost stunned? He had this look—caught off guard but also lowkey touched? Like he hadn’t expected it...? Ugh, I don’t even know.” You laughed nervously. “He probably just thought I was having a weird episode. He already thinks I’m mentally unstable anyway.”

Cara just stared at you, brows raised, mouth slightly open. Then she shook her head, holding up her hands in a slow, dramatic woah-woah-woah-woah gesture. “Holy fucking shit. I—WOW. I don’t even know what to—GIRL. YOU FLUSTERED RAFE CAMERON.”

You smiled sheepishly. “Yeah but—”

“NO BUTS. Oh my god, do you even—like, ahhhh.” Cara jumped off the bed and brushed a blonde strand out of her face. “I wish I’d seen that. I mean, goddamn, WHAT. I haven’t even seen you two interact yet!”

She frowned dramatically and shook her head again. “Okay, screw my mom. Well—no, I am going to her birthday. BUT. Oh my god. OH MY GOD. Y/N. We’re both so dumb.” She held her hands up like she’d just had a full-on divine revelation. “Kelce’s party isn’t gonna end at midnight. Let’s be real, it’ll probably start properly around then. So I’ll just come by after my mom’s thing. I HAVE to see you two together.”

Oh.

That actually didn’t sound like a bad idea and—wow, how had your brain thought of every possible scenario except that one? Like??? What was the point of overthinking if not for this kind of thing??

You smiled, cheeks warm. "I’m not sure Rafe sees it that way. Him and I spending the party together, I mean."

That would be... oh god no that would be—WHEW—like, that would 100% mean he actually liked you in some way.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, JUST IMAGINE.

AND DIDN’T HE EVEN SAY HE WANTED TO BE YOUR WINGMAN???? PROJECT-PARTNER-ZONED BUT STILL!!!

“If he doesn’t, I’ll beat his ass,” Cara said, scrunching up her nose. "Dude literally invited you. He better make damn sure you have a good night."

You know what? YES. Like, who invites someone and then just ghosts them? The bare minimum would include a conversation, right? …Or two or four, maybe more hihihi.

God, you just wanted to hug Cara. You’d been freaking the hell out about this crazy-ass party, and in less than two hours she’d somehow made you look forward to tomorrow night.

You nodded amused. “Assuming I’m the only one he invited—sure.”

Cara frowned and waved it off. “Then he’s for the streets anyway.” She tilted her head with a mischievous grin. “And Topper’s still an option. He’s not bad-looking, he’s sweet, sure his mom’s a helicopter parent and—”

“I’m not becoming Ms. Thornton.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Still think you and Barry—”

“No.”

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

W E E K O N E // F R I D A Y

“No?” Rafe raised a brow, clearly amused, as he zipped up his backpack. “Why not?”

You, on the other hand, grimaced, your cheeks burning hot, and prayed that half the econ class hadn’t just overheard Rafe asking if he should bring condoms for you tonight for when some dude would get you laid (his words).

But THANK THE UNIVERSE, most people seemed too busy packing up to head to their next class.

(And yes, you had sat next to him again because... IT JUST HAPPENED, OKAY.)

“Because…” God, why did he always put you in these situations? “I don’t plan on…” HOW DO YOU EVEN PHRASE THIS?

“Fucking?”

THIS GUY.

Staring straight ahead, you kept shoving your things into your bag. Now even your neck was on fire. “Yeah,” you finally muttered through clenched teeth.

Rafe let out a quiet, amused breath. “You scared ‘cause it’d be your first time?”

OKAY NOPE. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!!

It was bad enough your entire aura apparently screamed "VIRGIN" loud enough for him to notice—he had to bring it up IN SCHOOL in a FULL CLASSROOM?

You met his cocky smile with a dead-ass frown. “You scared to ever think for a second before opening your mouth?”

And whether that pissed him off or not, you honestly didn’t care in that moment.

Rafe had a whole personality spectrum going on but this asshole side of his? Yeah, not it. And just because you were—unfortunately—down bad for this boy, did not mean you had to take whatever came out of his pretty damn mouth.

But Rafe just smirked crookedly and slung his backpack over one shoulder (yeah, dude, we see your biceps flexing). “Keep that attitude for tonight. I'm sure there's a guy who's into that.”

BRO.

But before you could come up with something to throw back, a fake-ass-smiling girl popped up next to your desk, her glossy white Prada bag (girl this is a school, be fr) hanging perfectly on her shoulder. Her bestie Gracie stood right behind her with the same plastic smile glued on.

Ruthie’s big eyes fluttered right at Rafe as she said, “I’m assuming Topper’s playing taxi tonight again.”

Your stomach dropped. What the hell did she mean by that? LIKE WHAT? Topper had NOT mentioned Ruthie joining his ride.

Rafe gave a barely noticeable shake of his head, lips in a hard line. “Not for you.”

Ruthie tilted her head with a smile. “Did he tell you that?”

“I’m telling you now.”

You’d never heard Rafe sound so calm. It was... unsettling. You weren’t even the one he was talking to and it still gave you a weird feeling.

And that made it worse—because you felt so out of place here.

Ruthie’s brows twitched. Then, for a split second, her dark eyes locked onto yours—and seriously, she visibly looked you up and down before turning back to Rafe. “Is your new girlfriend coming too?”

AYO WHAT.

NONONONO DON’T BLUSH DON’T BLUSH DON’T BLUSH.

fuck.

Rafe let out a scoff, scratching his chin with narrowed eyes. "Come on, Ruthie. Fuck off. Go annoy someone who gives a shit."

Oh boy. She was lucky she wasn’t a guy because everything about Rafe screamed he was one second away from punching someone.

Ruthie’s lips pulled into that same fake-ass smile, and this time she addressed you directly. “Y/N Y/L/N, right? Funny how we’ve never spoken, even though you’ve been here as long as everyone else.”

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, face all fake-innocent. “Anyway, I hope it’s not gonna be another one of those parties where some girl ends up crying ‘cause she got ditched by a guy. Always so sad to look at.”

This fucking bitch.

Cara definitely would’ve slapped her for that.

And you know what? You were still pissed at Rafe from earlier, and this? Nope.

You just smiled politely and swung your bag over your shoulder, voice friendly. “Sorry to hear that. Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

Three funny things happened in that exact moment: Ruthie’s raised brows, Gracie throwing her a not-so-subtle side-eye of agreement, and fucking Rafe letting out a clearly amused breath.

And Miss wannabe-netflix-meangirl-whatever did not like that one bit.

She was just opening her mouth again when Rafe cut her off, waving her off with a hand. “Jesus, enough already. Listening to you whine gives me a fucking headache.”

And that... actually wrapped up that little interaction.

“She’s such a fucking annoying bitch,” Rafe said as he walked beside you through the hallway.

Which—uh yeah—was kinda funny, because you had History next and he wasn’t even in your class and—

Never mind. Kelce and Topper were in your class. He was probably just tagging along to see them.

You didn’t have enough brainpower to think that far ahead anyway, since you were walking so close together you had to focus not to bump into him like a total clumsy idiot.

“I think she watched Mean Girls too many times as a kid and decided to make that her whole personality,” you muttered.

Still lowkey overwhelmed by everything that had just happened but also… a little amused by how it all played out.

Rafe chuckled again and you could feel his gaze on you. “You really should talk back to her more often. Might actually get her to shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything bad,” you said, briefly meeting his smirk. Which was technically true but sure, okay—your line could be interpreted as a soft dig. Oops.

“Shit, did you see her face? That was some ‘I’m ending you tonight’ type shit.”

Even though he sounded entertained, you still felt a little uneasy. Because yeah—Ruthie was a shady bitch. Everyone knew it. And she was always the first to start gossip and stuff spread fast on Figure 8—even if it wasn’t true.

“What? You scared of her?”

You blinked, meeting his eyes again. “What? No.”

“You suck at lying.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Sure.”

A frown crept onto your face. “It’s not like she’s gonna actually start a fight or anything.”

Then again... there probably was a reason “ruthless” and “Ruthie” shared the same root letters.

“Dunno,” Rafe shrugged. “I’ve seen her swing at another girl with an empty beer bottle before.”

Your head snapped to him, brows raised. “Now you’re lying.”

No way that was true. How had no one talked about that?

Rafe raised his hands innocently, still amused. “It's true. At some little beach party she threw last year. No clue what they were fighting about but the crazy bitch just swung at the other chick with an empty beer bottle. It was fucking wild”

Honestly, what shocked you more was that Rafe had been at a Ruthie party to begin with.

And before you could stop yourself, you heard yourself asking: “Why’d you even go to her party?”

OH GOD. That came out way too dry for something that was supposed to be a casual, joking question. FUUUUUCK.

Someone please shoot me now.

Rafe seemed slightly surprised by the question too, his brows lifting just a bit.

UGHHHH.

Then he just shrugged, eyes on the staircase ahead. “Had her annoying friend on my ass at that time but the free drinks made that crazy-ass party kinda tolerable.”

Oh.

Something tugged deep in your chest.

You remembered now—for like a week or so, Rafe had had a thing with Ruthie’s bestie, Gracie Malone. And the thought of them, how Ruthie and Gracie probably saw you now as just another one of his temporary girls... and not knowing if Gracie had maybe really caught feelings for him...

Yeah, that made you a little nervous about tonight.

Not knowing what to say, you just nodded, gripping your bag strap tighter. A somewhat forced smile on your lips. “Fair.”

Rafe just let out a soft chuckle and—OH MY GOD OMG OMG—softly bumped his shoulder into yours as you climbed the stairs.

OH. MY. GOD.

It was something totally normal. Happens all the time when people walk side by side—no intention, definitely not. No, you’d just taken a dumb step and ended up too close to him, and then he was the one who brushed against you with his next step, but—

GIRL STAY CALM.

“Yeah, so if you don’t wanna end up with half a beer bottle lodged in your brain, you should maybe hire yourself a bodyguard for tonight,” Rafe joked, turning the corner with you.

You bit the inside of your cheek, sensing an opportunity in what he'd said—something that even YOU could use as a basis for—

“Why, you volunteering?”

And there it was, out in the open—HOLY FUCKING SHIT AHHHHHHHHH.

Your heart launched into a full-on death sprint and every single nerve in your body started buzzing under your skin. And then you felt uneasy because he probably thought that was just some awkward, pathetic attempt at flirting, WHICH IT WAS, and he was SUPPOSED TO somehow get the hint that you liked him but—

A boyish chuckle escaped his lips and he raised his brows in disbelief. “You want me to play Prince Charming for you?”

Heat crept up your neck but you just smiled awkwardly. “You just looked like you’d really love to deck her one.”

“Oh, you think I like hitting girls now?”

“Girls no. Furies, yes.”

GIRL.

Rafe just laughed, an honest sound that sent a warm feeling spreading through your chest. “Shit, I think you're the one who’s gonna deck her tonight.”

Great. Your horrible attempt at flirting had ended in… whatever this was.

“Ayo, Rafe!”

Kelce’s loud-ass voice echoed down half the hallway. He and Topper were already standing outside the history classroom with the rest of your class, waiting for Mr. Davis to arrive.

You braced yourself for your fight or flight to kick in—But… it didn’t. Which was weird. WHY THE HELL NOT?

Rafe dapped up Kelce and Topper, and you just stood there like some NPC waiting to be addressed, unsure of what to do. Leave? Stay? SAY HELLO?

“Yo, Y/N, Rafe already told us he’d be bringing a date tonight,” Kelce said, eyeing you with a grin full of shining white teeth. “You excited?”

NEVERMIND, FIGHT OR FLIGHT ACTIVATED.

AND WHAT??? NO WAY RAFE HAD CALLED YOU HIS FUCKING DATE. Definitely just Kelce bullshitting.

“Dude,” Topper said with a scoff.

Your cheeks burning, you just let out an awkward chuckle.

“You made Ruthie shut up,” Rafe said, eyebrows raised unimpressed. “This bastard should be easy.”

Such a great friend.

“Ayo, what.” Kelce raised his brows, looking at Rafe and nodding toward you. “How come we didn’t adopt her sooner?”

DUUUUUDE.

And your face just hit a new level of heat.

Though it was kinda cute how Kelce and Topper were looking at you right now like two dumb little boys in awe.

You just smiled sheepishly and shook your head slightly. “I didn’t really shut her up.”

“You basically called her a crybaby,” Rafe countered (Kelce gasped) and turned to Topper with furrowed brows. “She wanted you to play her taxi again.”

Topper shrugged. “I got two seats left.”

OH. Now that was interesting. Could Topper Thornton actually… tolerate Ruthie?

You weren’t sure if he was just extremely polite and somehow blind to her mean girl energy, or if he was so aggressively nice it looped back around to ass-kissing, OR—and this was the worst possible option—he actually had a thing for fucking Ruthie Whitmore.

Kelce clicked his tongue. “Shii, Top, since when are you into evil chicks?”

Rafe, on the other hand...

“The fuck do you mean two seats?” His brow twitched, lips curling into an irritated smile. “Who’s the other bastard you bringing?”

...

Okay, um...

Topper hadn't told him.

Aka you were the bastard.

Topper eyed him irritated, his thumb pointing toward you for a second. “I’m picking up Y/N first, then I’ll swing by for you. Thought I'd told you yesterday.”

"You didn't." There was a shift in Rafe’s whole posture.

Subtle, wouldn’t even be noticeable unless you were used to reading people’s body language closely. His chin lifted a bit, shoulders squared, and his gaze sharpened just slightly.

You felt it the second his eyes landed on you. The intensity in his stare sent a damn shiver down your spine.

He looked like he might kill someone right now.

But why? Didn’t he want you to go with him? Was this too much for him? Too territorial? Some random chick from school being picked up by his friend for a party you could’ve easily walked to?

“I hope that’s not a problem,” you said, giving a smile that came out way more uncertain than you intended.

It’s not a problem and if he makes it out to be one then the fuck?

But his look made it very clear: it was a problem.

And the air between the four of you had suddenly thickened with this really uncomfortable tension, all of it directed squarely at you.

“Outta the way, outta the way.”

Mr. Davis. THANK GOD.

The middle-aged teacher, arms full of books and a giant bag slung over his shoulder, clumsily made his way through the group of students in front of the classroom, trying to unlock the door with his free hand.

“You better hurry, dude,” Kelce said to Rafe, tone sing-songy. “Jones won’t be happy if you’re late.”

Rafe just scoffed, an annoyed glint in his eyes. "Don't piss me off."

With one last unreadable glance at Topper, he turned and walked off toward his class.

And now that you were left alone with the other two, it was like everyone silently agreed that they were very grateful for Kelce’s well-timed distraction.

“He’s pissed,” Kelce commented.

Topper raked a hand through his hair. “Yeah.”

“I wonder why,” Kelce added with a cocky grin aimed straight at you. Then he headed into the classroom like he hadn’t just dropped a mini bomb.

Great. Just great.

Topper sighed and turned to you but you beat him to it: “It’s fine, I can walk. It’s honestly--”

“No, no, it’s all good,” he interrupted, his voice calm and reassuring. “It's my fault. I thought I'd told him yesterday and he's probably more pissed about Ruthie having approached him than this." He gave you a friendly smile. "Don't worry, I’ll talk to him later.”

You raised your eyebrows slightly. Why the hell did Topper need to check in with Rafe about picking you up anyway? Sure, Rafe was kinda the alpha in their little trio or whatever, but seriously? That was a bit much.

Still, it was none of your business and your brain already had enough material to spiral over. And if Topper said it wasn’t about you, then it wasn’t about you, right?

Ha. Ha.

So you just nodded, gave him a polite smile, and said, “Okay.” Then you followed him into the classroom, trying not to fall into a pre-party panic during the next two hours.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

EXTRA SCENE containing the convo with Rafe and Topper + a little Rafe POV. you don't need to read it rn for it to make sense. you can also come back after finishing this chapter.

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You set your phone on your desk and ran your hands down your face.

Rafe Cameron, ladies and gentlemen.

Ugh, seriously, you didn’t even know, like, THIS GUY.

He messed you up so bad and turned your brain so upside down, it was nearly impossible to even start thinking about him. It was like his whole existence caused a short-circuit in your brain.

Which was crazy—and also kind of a paradox—because he made you spiral so much it almost looped back into nothing, like a vacuum that reset your thoughts.

… and somehow, that was kind of soothing.

Especially, because you’d somehow reached a dynamic in which you weren’t really afraid of saying the wrong thing or pissing him off. And that was mostly thanks to him, because during your little argument the other day, he had made it very clear that he did NOT want you second-guessing his mood or overexplaining things just in case he misunderstood them.

That was really hard for you but your positive-thinking-slash-delusion system had been a big help—plus the fact that Rafe didn’t dwell on things or embarrassing moments. Most of the time, at least.

Okay, the whole Apple Pencil thing was an exception, and the way he kept making suggestive comments that flustered you, and--

Okay, he did dwell on things.

But he did it in such a... skillful way, it didn’t feel like he was mocking you, more like playfully teasing you.

And part of you kind of believed (more like wanted to believe) he did it to get you out of your head. Even if he just enjoyed putting you in awkward situations, him short-circuiting your brain was a nice side effect.

You leaned back in your chair and looked up at the ceiling.

Then there was the whole thing with Topper...

Why had he offered to give you a ride yesterday if today he suddenly decided he’d rather drive Ruthie around? Especially when Rafe was also supposed to be picked up by him—and it just seemed so out of character for Rafe to back down because of Ruthie.

Especially since Topper had said he’d work things out with him. Had it really gotten so bad between them that Rafe would rather drive himself than let Topper give him a ride?

That made zero sense in any universe.

Or could it maybe be...?

You scrunched up your face and shook your head. No, that would be insane.

And yet...

God, you didn’t even dare say the thought out loud in your own head because it made you feel like you were putting too much importance on yourself. Like some hopelessly in-love naive girl from a crappy early 2000s high school rom-com.

GIRL, IT’S OKAY, IT’S YOUR OWN HEAD LIKE??? NO ONE’S LISTENING WHAT THE FUCK.

Okay, okay—could it be that Topper texting me and making plans behind Rafe's back, actually made him... jealous? IS THAT WHY HE WAS ACTING SO WEIRD TODAY IN SCHOOL AFTER HE FOUND OUT??? AND THEN HIM ASKING ME IF I HAD A CRUSH ON TOPPER??????

HOLY SHIT.

SO DID HE WANT TO PICK ME UP INSTEAD OF TOPPER DOING SO???

EWMJKDNGHXJNHFZCDDMHCUNGFKSHMSDFVHNFDAICHDFS.

You leaned forward and buried your face in your lap with your eyes squeezed shut. Absolutely secondhand embarrassed from yourself.

I’M FUCKING INSANE. LIKE HE IS RIGHT, I’M CRAZY.

A knock on the door made you jump and sit up straight.

“Yeah?”

Your mom poked her head into the room, her eyes briefly scanning the mess of clothes all over your floor you hadn’t cleaned up since yesterday. A smile on her face. “Everything okay?”

You nodded awkwardly. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’m heading into town, wanna join? I wanted to look for a dress for Veronika’s party tonight.”

Ohhh right. Your mom was also going to the birthday of Cara's mom.

And honestly, that sounded perfect—there were still six freaking hours until 9 PM. No way you were able to spend that time alone without losing your mind.

And hey, maybe you’d even find a better outfit for later.

A smile crossed your face. “Sure, I’ll just get changed real quick.”

“Great. I’m waiting downstairs.” With that, your mom closed the door behind her.

Okay.

The buzzing in your nerves wasn’t here yet. Which was weird. But a lot could change in six hours, and worst of all: Rafe’s moods fluctuated like crazy.

It was basically a gamble trying to guess what mood he’d be in when he picked you up later.

And how he’d act at the party—that was a whole other level. And not even your fucking overthinking brain dared to make predictions about that...

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

EXTRA SCENE wheezie showing rafe how to use reaction pics

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | <- P R E V I O U S | N E X T ->

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T A G L I S T F O R M (taglist for this story is CLOSED but you can sign up for my other stuff through this link)

@ursogorgeous13 @my-name-is-baby @moneybaby07 @jjasmiineee @sttaejoon-blog @vogueprincess @princesspeaxhh @wtfisastiles @wefelldowntherabbithole13 @rafes4 @kathryn-maraudersversion @wuluhwuhmaster @torturedtypewritersdept @sfotiegiuls @ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @lunaleah @akobx @cokewithcameron @b00klvrs @rafesdrew @mattyskies @yktayy9669 @beabafreakbee @c1gsafterwhat @drewstarkeyswife-7 @wtfdudesblog @akobx @wintercrows @miaaaoa @setmefreemyg @pogueprincesa @chimchimjiminie16 @drewstarkeysrightarm @wtfdudesblog @wolfstarsimpxx @emmiesummers @brycesfav @ayy1234567 @rgeraldg @stanseventeen @louvrgirl @chaoticromantic @drewstarkeysrealwife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @psychicnatural @mysticbby2009 @oreocheesecake-12 @miniiminie @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @drewstarkeyywife

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dollfacefantasy · 8 months ago

Text

INFECTED WITH INFATUATION ♡

pairing: carlos oliveira x fem!reader

summary: you and carlos are out on a mission when you come into contact with an unfamiliar plant specimen. the effects are unexpected to say the least.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, dubcon (cause of the pollen), sex pollen, breeding kink, overstimulation

wc: 6k

a/n: omggg kinktober already over halfway done. crazyyy. i hope you guys like this one. it was fun to write so thank you to the person who requested. reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated <3

kinktober slot: day 17 - sex pollen

"Carlos, watch out!" you shout.

Your partner, the man you called out to, takes heed of your warning as soon as it hits his ears. He ducks down, giving you a clear shot at the overgrown spider crawling down the hedged corridor at the two of you. The moment you have a lock on the target, you shoot. You never hesitate in the field. It only took you one day of dealing with bioweapons to learn that lesson.

Your finger presses down on the trigger of your gun hard, firing multiple rounds right at the creature. The bullets tear through its flesh. Its limbs fumble, and it crumples to the ground. Your heart slows down a little. The sight of its death helps to calm your nerves.

Carlos pops back up, his black hair swishing out of his face with the motion. He turns to you with an approving smirk across his lips.

"Nice work, sharpshooter," he says.

You roll your eyes at the nickname. He'd given it to you after your first mission together in which you encountered an infected dog and managed to miss every single shot you fired at the thing. It had been first day nerves you insisted, and so far, that had proven to be true. But that wouldn't stop Carlos from making fun of you.

The two of you walk over to the deceased organism. You silently thank every possible higher power that this mission is almost over. There's only one more sector after this one, and then the two of you are done for a few weeks.

You hesitate to get too close to the arachnid. Even though it lies there motionless, some sort of innate survival instinct told you no. Your eyes scan it with disgust, looking at the coarse hairs and the multitude of eyes. Gross. You would just have to step around the thing.

With extreme caution, you traverse over its large legs. You wonder what kind of psychopath would want to engineer spiders and make them this big. Your feet land firmly on the ground with every stride you take. The absolute worst case scenario here would be falling over onto it and finding out it still has some life left. Another few steps though, and you're in the clear.

However, your partner apparently does not possess the same inherent fear of spiders you do. He walks over the dead thing without any extra care. In the process, his boot catches on the end of its thorax.

You watch as a baby spider bursts from it and bolts away from the body, making a beeline towards you. And you know it's ridiculous. You know it's humiliating. But you scream.

You're not sure if it's because it's tinier and faster or because it's appearance is so sudden. Either way, you shriek. You recoil before you can control your reaction. Shooting at it would probably be smarter, but in your panic, you don't want to blow a hole through Carlos's foot. You just jerk back and accidentally send yourself tumbling into a bush.

Luckily, he's quick to get to it, not discharging his weapon at all. He simply stomps on it with his large boot. It squishes beneath the sole and splatters on the dirt. His eyes then turn to you in the foliage.

Laughing a little, he heads over to you and parts the leaves. He looks at you with that same smug expression and extends a hand.

"Need some help down there?" he asks.

You glare at him but still accept the offer. It would be easier to get out of this mess of branches and little pink flowers with his aid. You reach out and wrap your fingers around his palm, feeling the warmth of it in your grasp. He pulls you up, and you shamefully watch his bicep flex as he does.

On the way to your feet though, he hisses in pain.

"Ah, fuck," he mutters, letting go of you as soon as you're upright.

He pulls back and brings his arm to his body, holding it there and examining the source of pain. You step closer to try and look too. Your eyes catch the sight of the injury almost right away. It would be hard for anyone to miss.

A red stripe spans from the outer side of his forearm to up just past his elbow. The ending of the cut seems like a deep gash while the beginning is only a thin line. Blood already begins to trickle onto his skin. It looks like a thorn had snagged him while helping you off the ground.

You pull a small cloth from the pouch attached to your belt.

"Here, let me see," you offer, your voice softer as your mind snaps into a more caring frame. It's the one you used to use everyday when you worked as a medic. Before you had been roped into this mess with mercenaries.

He offers his limb up to you without resistance. If there was anyone he trusted to look at him, it was you. After most missions, he stayed with the doctors Umbrella provided for the mandatory observation period, but you were the one to actually patch him up. With you, there were no ulterior motives or chances of being double-crossed. You wanted to help people, and that's what you did for him.

You do it right now as you take the small piece of material and dab up the crimson fluid seeping from his wound. He grunts as you get closer to the source.

"Sorry," you say. You try extra to remain gentle, lightly swiping at the edges of the injury. "Looks like a piece of the plant caught you. I can take a better look at it later, but for now, you should be fine. You're not bleeding too much," you tell him.

He nods and gets back to holding his weapon in the proper position. The two of you continue onward in the direction of your target. You only hope you've seen the last of those spiders.

Fortunately, your wish had been granted. You and Carlos hadn't encountered any more spiders, big or small, for the rest of the mission. The path to the objective from the sight of the last one had been pretty easy, presenting no real challenges.

The two of you made it back to the nearest Umbrella base for the night following a short ride there. You had to get checked out first and now stay overnight for the waiting period as was the procedure for all field operatives. The idea was to ensure you all didn't harbor any infections that remained undetected during the examination. But after that, you'd be home free.

You'd already completed the mandatory screening with the doctor. After finding nothing out of the ordinary, you headed to the assigned room they'd given you for the next twelve hours. It was pretty small, just a bed, table, chair, and shelf. You didn't need anything more though.

You change out of your grimy cargo pants and black sweater and pull on a much more comfortable pair of gray sweats and a t-shirt matching in color. Laying on the stiff mattress, you take a few moments to decompress from the earlier events. Your body seems to hold a dull ache all over, something you attribute to the heightened stress you experienced for hours on end. Your adrenaline has started to wear off, and as it recedes, the ability to feel in entirety returns.

Some time goes by, and Carlos knocks on the frame of your door. It feels like only moments have passed, but in reality, you're sure it's closer to thirty minutes. You look up at him with curious eyes.

"You need something?" you ask.

He walks in, and you see he's also changed. A charcoal t-shirt covers his upper body while gray sweatpants adorn his waist. You try to keep your gaze casual although it would be obvious to anyone with eyes that he looks statuesque in them.

"I was wondering if you're too tired to take another look?" he asks.

Sitting up, you pat the space next to you on the small bed. "Never too tired for my favorite patient," you answer with a small smile.

He returns the fond expression and takes a seat. You take your medical pouch off the table next to the bed. Unzipping it, you pull out the few things you predict you'll need. He rolls up his sleeve even though it's not necessary, allowing you to see his arm in full glory.

"You know they do have doctors here. Ones with much better equipment than me," you say teasingly as you rip open a small cleaning wipe.

He looks at you and shrugs. "I doubt they'd know how to use it as well," he says.

You shake your head and rub the alcohol-soaked patch across his wound. He hisses from the sting but manages to hold still. Your fingers work as quickly as they can, not wanting to prolong his suffering. You clean the dried blood off and make sure the open cut has been completely tended to. But your eyes narrow as you look at his skin.

"The doctors did look at you, right?" you ask.

"Yeah, why?" he responds.

"They cleared you?" you check.

And he nods. Maybe he was right not to trust them.

"Well, this doesn't really look normal," you say with uncertainty, "You have some discoloration around the cut. Your veins look a bit darker than they should. It could be an infection."

His eyes find yours. You can see in his stare that he's looking for reassurance.

"Does it hurt at all?" you continue.

"No. I mean, a little. Feels like I have a giant scrape on my arm. But not more than normal," he says.

A puff of air leaves your nose as you try to think. "Hm. You might be ok then, could be just some abnormal pigmentation," you offer, "I've never seen an infection manifest this fast, but if it were already showing, you'd probably have some symptoms too."

"So you think I'll live?" he jokes.

You scoff and nudge his arm away, putting up a playful front.

"Don't ask me that," you say.

In truth, you didn't want to think about Carlos dying. You'd seen so many people die since joining this task force. Your worst fear when coming into work was seeing that happen to the one you care most about.

"Alright," he concedes and surrenders, but his attitude doesn't dampen any.

You pull up your small roll of gauze next and begin to bandage him up. With careful hands, you rotate the thin material around his forearm, making sure to cover the entire scratch in a durable layer. The room is so quiet. There's no sounds except for the two of you breathing. You're tempted to say something and cut through the silence, but you don't. The moment feels intimate. It feels wrong to try and interrupt it.

When you finish wrapping his arm, you tear the gauze and tuck it under to keep it in place. Clearing your throat, you pat his shoulder and give him another sweet smile.

"All done," you say.

"Do I get a reward for being so well-behaved?" he asks. His voice lowers, and he leans in the slightest bit closer to you.

Heat blooms in your stomach and spreads up to your chest, but you'd never let him see the effect he has on you.

"Get outta here," you say and give him a light push.

He laughs and rises to his feet. He heads over to the door but doesn't leave before turning back to look at you again.

"Thanks, sharpshooter," he says.

"You got it, soldier," you respond with a small mock salute.

He shuts the door behind him after that. You put your things back in your pouch and lay back in bed again. A sudden wave of tiredness crashes into you. Sighing, you rub your face and yawn. Tonight it didn't seem like you'd have any trouble sleeping, a rare blessing as of late.

Rolling over, you wince as you feel a small burst of pain in the back of your thigh. You're so exhausted though that you chalk it up to a pulled muscle and resign to check it out when you wake. All you really want to do right now is knock out until the sun is up and the transport vehicle is ready to drop you off at the airport to go home.

It's still dark out when your eyes flutter open. The lids feel heavy with sleep. Your brain wants to be unconscious again, but something has pulled you from the comfort of sleep. It might be the fact that you're burning up.

Your entire body feels as though fire rages within it. Sweat coats your skin and causes your t-shirt to stick to you. You can feel your pillowcase beneath your head damp with it. You sit up, but you have to do so slowly because of how the simple motion causes the room to spin. You try to blink the dizziness away to no avail.

Once you're upright, you feel more conscious though. You're able to better assess your symptoms and maybe pinpoint the cause. You register that you feel tingly. Fizzling sparks rampage all throughout your body; though, the most intense area seems to be the back of your thigh. You peel down your sweats a bit and arch your back to try and get a look.

Your eyes widen as you find a puncture wound with the same discoloration you saw on Carlos.

Fuck, you must have landed on a thorn in that bush and not realized it with everything else going on. Panic rushes through you at the thought of being infected with something that shows symptoms so fast, but a more intense surge of it floods you when you realize that this means Carlos has it too.

You try to get out of bed to go inform him of your discovery, but a round of cramps doubles you over and has you curling up on the twin-sized mattress to ride out the pain. Small whimpers exit your lips. They were so intense, worse than any period cramps or stomach aches you'd ever experienced.

They start to ease up after about a minute, but it's then that you begin to notice the constant throbbing between your thighs. In the midst of all this other stuff coming to light in your groggy condition, you hadn't really noted how consistent it was, but it seems to have grown stronger after that bout of pain.

A strong pulse emanates from your clit. You whine and shove your hand in your panties to try and rub it away. A few strokes bring little pleasure, but not enough to ward it off for good.

You realize your breasts feel heavy too. With every breath you take, they call out for a pair of hands to cup them and squeeze them, to fondle them and toy with your nipples. Just some form of stimulation.

Your legs bend up to your chest while your hand still fruitlessly fumbles around between your thighs. You whimper in frustration now. These symptoms are unlike any of the infections you've encountered in your career. You're not sure what to do.

As you're trying to formulate some sort of plan, your door opens. Carlos stumbles in. He looks to be in the same condition as you. The gray fabric of his t-shirt is soaked in sweat at the underarms and neckline. His skin glimmers in the dim light while he looks at you with hooded eyes. The door shuts behind him, and the air between you feels thick. His scent drifts to you across the room, making you squeeze your thighs together hard with desire.

It takes everything you have to not lunge across the room and pounce on him like an animal in heat. From the strained expression on his face, it's not a wild guess to imagine he feels similar. He's panting, leaning against the wall for support.

"Safe to say we're infected with something, huh?" he chokes out.

You turn your head and nod against your pillow, unable to bring yourself to look at him anymore. If you did that, you wouldn't be able to control your reaction.

"What should we do?" he asks.

You have no clue how he's managing to stand or speak or even think through these questions. All your mind can conjure at the moment are visions of him on top of you. They're so vivid you can almost feel the sensations of them. You see him above you with your legs over his shoulders, plowing into your cunt with no reserve or hesitation. Visions of you on your stomach also flash through your mind. You picture him with an iron grip on your hips, pumping his thick, meaty cock into your dripping hole over and over and over.

It's enough to bring a moan out of you. Carlos winces at the sound, and he approaches your bed. You're visibly faring worse than him. Maybe it's because you have a puncture wound, and he has a simple scratch. Or maybe it's just a difference in your biology. You're not sure, and there's no way you're going to figure it out while you feel like this.

He cautiously lays a hand on your arm, and you moan again. But this time the sound is so much needier. It echoes between the four walls of this small bedroom, the volume enough to cause concern that you would wake other employees here. He pulls his hand back and looks down at you. Your hips rock on your hand, humping it desperately in an attempt for friction.

Your eyes crack open and cast onto him. You intend to look up at his face, but with where he's standing, right at eye level is the huge tent in his pants.

His cock strains against the gray material. You can see the outline perfectly. The sight makes your mouth water. You don't know what's happening with you. Sure, you'd always found Carlos attractive. Maybe you could say you have a little crush on him, but it was never anything so raw. You thought he was charming more than anything. Never before had you just wanted to tear off both your own and his clothes and start going at it.

He sees where your eyes lock on, and he feels a strong burst of arousal in his stomach.

"Hey, hey. Look at me," he instructs and pushes you by the shoulder onto your back.

You look up into his eyes. Your mind finds peace in them. They're serene and calm and offer a sense of comfort despite every other part of your body going haywire.

Your own hand reaches up and wraps around his wrist. You tug his palm down onto your breast. His brows raise, but he makes no move to pull it away. Instead, he gives the mound a squeeze, relishing the way you arch your back and mewl for him.

"Wait," he tries to resist, tries to be the responsible one, "Are you sure we should... do this kind of stuff? What if it makes this worse? We don't know what's happening yet."

If you weren't so wound up, you'd probably laugh at the way he poses the question. The man who could flirt with you like there was no tomorrow asking if you should do "stuff." But you don't laugh because "stuff" is all you want to do.

"I don't know what's happening. All I know is I need you," you rasp and start pulling his arm more, trying to get his entire body on top of your own.

He half indulges you, beginning to climb on the bed before stopping above you. Looking down at your lust-stricken form, he wants you so bad. His cock leaks precum with the urge to just slip inside. But at the same time, Carlos does like you. Really likes you. It isn't a maybe with him - he has a crush on you. And while thoughts of you spread beneath him happen to be what he jerks off to each morning in the shower, part of him can't help worrying that if he takes advantage of this, things between you two will shift and fracture.

"Are... are you sure?" he asks. Words are hard when your scent clouds the air around him and you look up at him with needy eyes like this.

You want to tell him to stop talking and just fuck you senseless already, but your lust-stricken brain seems to comprehend that in order to get fucked dumb, you have to handle his concerns first.

"I want it. I need you inside me. Please just give it to me," you whine. Your legs squirm, and you tug on him again. He's still hesitant. Looking into his eyes, you whimper, "You'll still be my favorite."

And that's apparently good enough for him. That brief statement of reassurance shatters the thin pane of resistance he had left. After hearing those words, he collapses on top of you in a flurry of passion. His lips collide with yours. He pants against your face and squeezes your hips.

Your tongues meet and slide against each other as your mouths move. One of your hands slides around the back of his head to grip his shaggy, dark locks. He groans and bucks his hips against your thigh. Your other hand rubs his chest, fingers digging into the muscle with desire.

He leans back for a split second and rips off his shirt. Under more delicate circumstances, you probably would have admired his sculpted figure. You would have traced your fingertips along the defined lines of his abs, swirled the delicate pads around his nipples and up to his collarbone.

But not right now.

You don't possess the ability to move with that much focus or care right now. Instead, you reach out and pull him back down again, almost crushing yourself with his bulky frame. It's worth it though because you lick up his happy trail, tracing your tongue over the contours of his muscles. He moans from the light touch before scooting down so he can remove your shirt and have access to your breasts.

"Look at these. Fuck," he says in awe. He gropes them, hands rough as they feel up the plump flesh.

He lowers himself on top of you again and kisses down your collarbone to your chest. You whimper as his mouth glides over the swells of your breasts before latching onto one nipple. He sucks with fervor, eyes fluttering shut as he focuses on the task. You gasp and moan. Between your legs, he ruts against the mattress.

His tongue swirls around your stiffening bud. He laves the smooth wetness over it a few times before switching to the other and giving it the same treatment.

"Been wanting to see these tits so fuckin' bad," he mumbles.

"You have?" you whimper, still squirming from the attention directed at your chest.

"Course I have. Those tight little sweaters you wear, the way they bounce every time you fucking move. God, drives me crazy," he mutters.

He spends some more time on your breasts before relenting and shoving down his sweats. His cock all but jumps out, eager for some attention as well.

"I've been wanting to see that so bad," you breathe.

You have to rub your thighs together once you get a look at his length. It's long and meaty just like you predicted. There are prominent veins spanning from the base upward. The tip is already leaking for you, oozing sticky white precum. His heavy balls hang below. All you can think about is how bad you need them drained inside of you.

He tears off your soaked panties and wastes no time slotting himself at your wanting hole. With both of you in frenzies of carnality, there's no teasing. He doesn't rub it over your folds or work himself in. No. In one go, he slams himself inside. A deep, guttural sound rumbles in his chest while a breathy whine erupts from you.

Your eyes roll back while your toes curl down below. You nearly cum from that stroke alone. He just fits you so perfectly. Even through the amorous fog that clouds your mind, you can't help wondering why you didn't do this sooner.

Just like in the flashes you saw minutes ago, his hands clamp around your waist. He doesn't take time to set a pace or give you a few moments to adjust to the girth of him. As soon as he's had the first taste of that warm, wet heat, he's slamming in and out of your little pussy with no thought.

His hot skin slaps against yours. Both of you pant with exertion while the cot below you scrapes against the concrete floor. Your legs bend upwards and you hold them to make sure nothing gets in the way of his thrusts.

Each time his cock slides all the way in, you think you see heaven. Your vision blots with white and then splotches of color. Your brain feels as though it's melting out your ears in the most blissful sensation. You're pretty sure you don't actually need thoughts anymore. Why would you when this seems like the only thing you'll wanna do ever again?

You bounce around with his strength pounding against you. Your head bobbles while your tits sway up and down. His head has been tilted back for a while, but he drops it now to look at the sight of you before him.

"Fuck, baby. You take my dick like you were made for it," he grunts.

Your walls squeeze him tight as a reward for saying that. He groans and fucks into you harder. The rhythm breaks for a moment. He has to slow down to deliver the small collection of particularly harsh thrusts.

With each one, his tip rams further inside you. The fourth one strikes some trigger inside you that rips a yelp from you and rockets you over the edge. Your body shudders hard beneath him while your walls spasm desperately.

"Hnghhh- Carlos- ah! You're fuckinmesogood," you babble out, eyes drooping so much they're practically closed.

You hear him growl above you and then feel his weight collapse onto your body. Your thighs are smooshed between the two of you, keeping you bent in half. He's as deep as physically possible now. That you're certain of. His cock kisses the opening of your womb with each jolt of his pelvis, making you cry out in an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.

His head closes in on yours, connecting the two of you in a sloppy kiss. You move without sense. Every action stems from a place of pure desire.

He knows he's getting close. And he also knows he should pull out. But he honestly doesn't know if he can right now. He's burning so hot for you that in his head, the loss of your tight walls wrapped around him may seriously result in death. It doesn't just feel good, it's pure euphoria. He's not even at the peak yet, but this feeling right now is more intense than any orgasm he's had before.

"Fuck-" he growls, trying to work up the will to slide back and burst on your stomach instead. His mouth falls away from yours, landing against the crook of your neck. "You're making this so hard for me, sweetheart," he grumbles.

You're so shaky and blissed out that the words almost pass you by, but his close proximity allows you to catch them. You know what he means without him having to say it because you feel it too. A deep yearning in the most carnal recesses of your soul, a craving for him to sate the most base desire burning within you.

"Just do it," you whimper, lazily rolling your hips up, "Cum inside."

His muscles tense. You can feel them twitching against you.

"Don't say that," he breathes.

A petulant whine seeps from between your lips. You pull him closer by the shoulders with more force, digging your nails into the skin.

"Finish inside, Carlos. Pleaseeeeee," you try again, "I'll worry about it later. Just need you to fill me up so fucking bad."

His resolve chips away piece by piece with each strike from your pleas. Reasons to detach from you that had seemed logical moments ago lose whatever little appeal they had. His mind feels overcome by the desire to pump you full of his release, to fuck his seed deep inside your awaiting cunt, to let it take.

With a rough snap, he throws his head back and groans. His fingers dig into the plush flesh of your hips. The high overcomes him in a powerful blow, whisking the air from his lungs. It makes him feel lightheaded, actions completely guided by impulse created under the influence of whatever that plant had sapped into the two of you.

Hot, thick ropes of cum shoot against your inner walls. You whine at the sensation, eyes fluttering and rolling back in satisfaction. He works it into you over and over till the urge is sated.

Finally, he feels like he won't lose all capability to function if he pulls out. He eases his hips back, slowly freeing himself from the sinful confines of your slick walls. Every inch he reveals shimmers with the combined gloss of his and your fluids. It coats the area between your thighs thoroughly, marking the site of your connection.

While the throbbing in your clit and the burning throughout your bones has lessened, dull remnants of them remain. Your chest puffs up and down as you catch your breath and recover from the intensity of before. The air still feels thick, just less like a landmine than before.

But when you gaze down between the two of you, your eyes land on his cock. He's still fully hard. The shaft stands forward proudly while the tip remains darkened in color. His need for more of you plainly visible to anyone who looked.

Your eyes flit from it up to his eyes, connecting in a tentative stare. The question between the two of you is left unspoken. Neither of you really need the words to understand that you both want more.

His hands fly to your waist again and flip you over onto your stomach. Your face squishes against the pillows as he boosts your hips to the right angle and slides right back inside. You whine at the intrusion, fingers gripping the pillow for some way to ground yourself.

He gives your ass a firm smack before leaning forward and boxing you in beneath him. You have no way of knowing for sure, but you're almost certain the thrusts reach deeper now. He's moving at the same frantic pace from before, yet every stroke feels like it bumps a sweet spot within you. That or you're just more sensitive from your previous release.

You can hear him panting in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. Every small grunt and soft growl drifts out behind your head.

"Fuck... think we should just do this till we're all better," he murmurs and nips at your shoulder.

"Mhm," you whine, arching your back and pushing your hips against him further. The next set of words comes out slurred and muffled both from your position against the pillow and the blurry state of your mind. "Never wanna stop. Just want you all the time."

He huffs out a laugh. "Yeah? That's what you wanna do, huh? Let me fuck you nonstop? Use you till you can't fucking move anymore? Breed you till I've had my fill?"

You mewl sharply and nod eagerly. "Uh huh, give it all to me till- ah! mmm... till we're both better," you whimper.

Skin continues slapping against skin in the otherwise quiet of the room. In the back of your mind, you wonder how far down the hall the sound echoes. It's a fleeting thought though, quickly overwhelmed by the repeated thoughts of how good you feel.

"Yeah? Maybe a baby in your belly is what you need. Maybe that's what we're supposed to do. Can't get this thing out of our system till we meet nature's demands," he rasps.

He doesn't even know what he's saying. He assumes the sudden desire to procreate comes from the infection, but the words feel as though they blossom from somewhere deeper. Whatever the case, it's obvious you like them. You clamp around his cock like you're trying to drain him dry.

"I'd probably fuck you like this every night if I saw you nice and round with my baby, sweetheart. Fuck, you'd look so good. Swollen in all the right places, aching for me to take care of you," he mumbles out.

"Give it to me. Want it so bad. Wanna... mmm fuck," you trail off, panting out the lasts of your desires.

The peak builds much faster for you two this time around. You squeeze around him till your rhythmic convulsions devolve into a burst of spasms. His thrusts land hard throughout his high, but you feel his muscles tense as he pumps another load into you.

Drops of his spend leak from your cunt and smear against both of your skin. This time he doesn't even bother pulling out. He knows he's still hard and that he has one, if not more, rounds in him. He keeps fucking you hard, through your cries of overstimulation and desperate squirming.

The rest of the night is a blur. You don't count how many times you go at it or keep track of the variety of positions you do it in. You know at one point you were on top, at another your head dangled off the edge of the mattress and bobbled around like that of a doll's. The intense passion and lust pervades all memories and casts the experience in a hazy fog.

All you're sure of is that now you feel better. For the moment, the two of you are satisfied, your bodies no longer alive with an electric craving for one another. Your head rests on his chest while the rest of you presses against his side. His hand rubs up and down your back in lazy, thoughtless strokes.

Neither of you say anything. Dashes of sunlight begin to shine through the windows that sit high on the wall. Both of you bask in the calm of the moment as you grapple with what happened.

"You think that cured us?" he asks softly after a while.

You pause before shrugging. "Can't say for sure, we'll have to wait and see," you say, looking up at him.

Somewhere inside of you, you believe that was it. That was the magic fix. You're almost certain that you fucked whatever that was out of your systems, but you want to be honest with him. Still, you can't help offering a little reassurance.

"We'll be ok," you say with a small smile.

He returns it. "If you're the one taking care of me, I don't doubt that," he teases.

You hum and squeeze your arms around his waist. Questions of a changed relationship status or potential future together going forward plague your mind, but you know it's not the time. If your supervisors hadn't heard the racket coming from in here, they'd realize something was up as soon as you and Carlos emerged from the same bedroom. You decide to take what semblance of peace with him you can get before having to face a possible onslaught of hazmat suits and probing tests.

Your eyes flutter shut as the beating of his heart lulls you into a state of peace. Even without the confirmation, you aren't worried about your connection. You're pretty confident that he'll be more than just your favorite patient in the coming weeks.

#divider by cafekitsune #carlos oliveira x reader #carlos oliveira smut #carlos oliveira x you #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil imagines #resident evil x you #ch: carlos oliveira 💌

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milfsdoll · 8 months ago

Note

Hey are you taking requests? If so could you maybe do one where Agatha Harkness walks in on Reader masturbating and sexy times happen

Please

If you aren’t taking request then that’s okay

Caught

Summary: Agatha ordered you one thing not to do… touch yourself, but she caught you in the act and she wasn't too mad about it either.

Warnings: +18, smut, top!agatha, bottom!reader, masturbating, slight magic sex, choking kink, hair pulling kink, praise kink, mommy kink, scissoring, oral sex, Agatha being a softie for her wife.

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: Thank you for this request anon! It was fun to write, also english is not my first language <3

Masterlist

“Do not touch yourself, pet” those were the exact words your wife told you before leaving the house in the morning.

You knew better than to misbehave, but as the day went by it became harder not to.

After all the teasing from this morning you couldn’t think of anything else.

Her hands all over your body, how her fingers danced over your skin, teasing your nipples and your entrance, her smile against your pulse point when she heard your desperation in your voice, pleading her to touch you where you wanted but never doing so, making you watch as she got off on your thigh while her hand rested on your throat, telling you how good you made her feel without even touching her, your hands tied up over your head with her magic.

“Fuck” you whined to yourself, getting out of your second shower of the day, trying to calm your mind and body from doing the only very thing she told you not to do. You stared at your reflexion on the mirror, seeing the love marks the woman left on your neck and chest, it made you groan, the the fire on your lower stomach starting to form once again.

You hardly disobeyed her, knowing she loved when you were good, having you at her mercy, and you loved being able to see her soft side in bed, don’t get me wrong, you freaking loved when she was rough with you, but the soft sex… it made you lose your mind, how good she took care of you, her praises in your ear, her eyes watching you fall apart beneath her…

Get yourself together, all these thought weren’t helping you at all.

Looking at the time you considered the thought, maybe, just maybe… you could do it,

she wasn’t going to be home for the next hour, that gave you plenty of time just to get some relief, I mean she didn’t have to know… she wouldn’t know, would she?

You stared at the clock for a few minutes, your mind racing with thoughts…

Fuck it.

You ignored the voice in your head telling you it was a bad idea and got on the bed, getting in a comfortable position, your hair still damp from the shower and your breath already hitching from the anticipation.

Slowly your hand travelled down your body, imagining it was hers, her long fingers running down your figure you reached between your legs, still as wet as you were hours ago, the image of her teasing you about it making you close your legs unconsciously, letting out a moan as you started to play with your clit.

Trying to muffle your moans biting your lip, you didn’t hear the main door close, too focused on bringing yourself some kind of pleasure, your hand gripped the sheets while you pushed your fingers inside of you, only hearing the obscene wet sounds you were making.

“I knew you could not wait for me”

The sudden sound made you gasp, quickly sitting up and looking at Agatha who was leaning against the bedroom door “A-Aggie I thought you didn’t come home for at least an hour”

You were fucked, utterly fucked.

“Well imagine my surprise, wanting to come home earlier to please my wife, and finding she started the fun without me” she took off her blue coat, throwing it to the side while making her way to the bed “and after I told her, specifically, not to do so”

Her eyes checked your state, your sweaty, flushed state, you looked ruined already.

While she stood at the end of the bed staring, you felt embarrassed, your cheeks tainted red, pulling the sheets over your very naked body feeling too exposed “nah ah” she pushed them back down harshly, her eyes turning dark “keep going”

“What?” You were confused, not quite catching up with the situation.

“Go on, touch yourself doll” she took off her necklace next, unbuttoning her white shirt only a few buttons before glaring at you “don’t make me repeat myself” you knew that voice, that deep, dominant voice.

And you knew there wasn’t a way out of this.

Never taking your eyes off hers, your legs hesitantly opened for her to see, her breath hitched when she saw how wet you really were, she couldn’t be more turned on than right now “I missed you so much, I couldn’t contain myself” your voice weakened with every word, your hand starting to rub circles on your clit.

If you were doing this you were gonna give her a show.

Still sitting up grabbing the sheets tightly you threw your head back “Eyes on me” you immediately looked at her, not wanting to disobey her again, you were already fucking close, but you needed her.

You watched her discard her clothes, she did it slowly, to torture you, loving the way your eyes followed every bit of her moves, your fingers teasing your hole before pushing inside, you were struggling to keep your eyes open, to be good for her “Aggie” you whined, pleading her with your eyes “I need you please”

“Why would I? I should make you stop right now and deny you for the rest of the night, a few days even” and she would have done just that if she wasn’t as eager as you, she’s been thinking of this, of you, all day, she prayed to catch you touching yourself so she could torture you for a while, to see how your body needed her for your release.

“I’ll be good” you pleaded “I’ll be good, I promise, I’m so sorry Aggie, please” another whine escaped your lips, starting to get frustrated, your fingers weren’t enough, you needed her, now.

And suddenly your sight turned purple, a lash of pleasure running through your whole body, your hand pulling out of you to grab the sheets harder for support “fuck!” Your back arched, chocking out a moan “what are you doing?” You gasped put, you couldn’t handle it, you felt painfully on edge, seeing her eyes radiating purple with a smirk on her face “A-Agatha are you- agh!” Your insides turned fire, your core clenching into nothing.

You couldn’t think, your body feeling hotter than ever, and your mind clouded with pleasure.

And you looked so, so beautiful, squirming in pleasure, your hips rolling into nothing unconsciously, she loved how she could play with you with only her mind. She bit her lip, getting on the bed, watching you as tried to get a hold of yourself, not even noticing her moving on top of you, your eyes clenched shut and you jaw hanged low.

The feel of her hand on your cheek calmed your down, the magic disappearing in an instant, trying to ease your breath you looked up at her, tears starting to fall down your eyes “it’s ok, you’re alright” she whispered wiping away your tears.

Her gaze softened, fearing she went too far with her magic “was it too much?” Her worried voice made you shake your head instantly.

“No, of course not” you slowly pulled her down with you, both falling into the mattress before your lips found hers “just please… make love to me Aggie” you said between kisses, making your wife smile into it.

And she wasn’t gonna say no to that, so she deepened the kiss, her tongue intruding into your mouth, while your hands helped her hair out of her messy bun, her long stands of hair falling around your head only so you could lock your hands into them “I think you’ve had enough teasing for today”

She sneaked her leg between yours, gripping yours and positioning it on her shoulder, manhandling you in the position she wanted you parted from her lips, looking at her you suddenly felt her clit rub against yours, making you both moan “God, Agatha” your head arching back into the pillow.

Taking the opportunity, she attached her lips on your neck, feeling your goosebumps raise as she kissed and bit on your pulse point, your hips moving moving into the perfect rhythm together.

“you feel so good doll” she managed to let out in a moan, resting her forehead against yours, staring into the other’s eyes, your hands scratching the back of her neck.

It did feel fucking good.

Your bodies moving in unison, your breasts caressing each other, making yours nipples sensitive to the touch, your heel pushing into her back causing her to fall closer to you. She took your hand from her hair and laid it beside your head, interlocking your fingers with hers.

You pulled her into a kiss swallowing each other’s moans, feeling her free hand sneak to your neck squeezing softly, your cunt clenched.

“Fuck- I’m- I’m gonna cum” you gasped for air, feeling the knot on your lower stomach tense by the second.

“Not yet” she heard your desperate grunt, your pace getting sloppier as you tried not to cum on the spot “wait for me, princess” her voice was weak, starting to feel her orgasm approach as well.

Knowing very well what was her soft spot your hand on her hair gripped it tightly, tugging it back, watching her face shift in pleasure, a moan escaping her lips and her body almost giving out on top of you “cum with me please… mommy”

That made her snap, not even being able to form words as she reached her orgasm, you following her, moaning each other’s names and yours hands tightening into the other’s.

Riding through your highs Agatha gently lowered your leg around her waist, her lips kissing all over your face, you trying to ease your breath while your hands caressed her cheekbones, making her look at you.

Words weren’t needed between the two you, only your gazes saying those three words you both knew.

The older woman kissed you lovingly, both humming into it, before she lowered her lips to your neck, following your collarbone and chest, her tongue circling your nipple, biting it softly, earning a gasp from you, and your back arching into her.

“Aggie…”

“Shh”

She continued her kiss attack down your stomach, leaving bites marks all over you, her hands holding your hips down “you can take another one, right? For mommy?”

How could you deny her?

Her beautiful blue eyes never leaving yours as she reached your cunt “yes” you hushed out, feeling her hot breath over you before she connected her lips with your overstimulated clit, your head falling backwards, the only sounds outing your throat were strangled moans.

She ate you like a starved animal, her tongue entering you while her nose continued to rub your clit, her nails digging into your thighs, and you were sure it was going to leave marks, and you weren’t gonna complain, at all.

You pulled her closer by her hair, your hand fisting it for support, causing your wife to moan into your core.

It made your legs begin to tremble, your thighs squeezing her head “s-shit!” You were not gonna last long, still sensitive with your last orgasm you were on the edge, and Agatha knew, feeling your cunt clench her tongue.

When you felt her squeezing your thigh twice you knew she was giving you permission, a long, loud moan escaping your throat as the hard orgasm took over you, making you see stars, your legs shaking around her.

She kept eating you out, helping you through your orgasm until you pushed her head away softly, wincing at the overstimulation.

Agatha kissed her way up to you, seeing your blown away features, trying to catch your breath “you did so good” she kissed your forehead “I’m so proud of you” it made you giggle, your cheeks even more red than before, the woman chuckled with you, loving how cute you looked right now, all fucked out but still in your bubbly self.

“Don’t move”

It wasn’t like you could do that right now if you wanted anyways, your legs still shaking a little after two fucking powerful orgasms, you tried not to fall asleep in the spot, waiting for her to come back, you suddenly felt a cold cloth in your face, your eyes opening to see her smiling at you “hi” you whispered smiling back, making her hum a hi in return, cleaning between your legs next.

You winced a little, still feeling sore “I know, you’re ok honey” she kissed your lips sweetly before she finished, throwing the cloth somewhere at the end of the bed.

She laid by your side, pulling you close to her while she covered both of you with the blanket, you hid your head on her neck, planting a kiss there “I love you Aggie”

“I love you too sweet thing” her kissed your head, stroking your hair while watching as you fell asleep, your breath easing against her neck, she smiled, her leg caressing yours under the covers.

She was safe to say you were the best thing that happened to her in all the centuries she has lived.

She would do anything for you.

And you would do anything for her.

#agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader #agatha all along #x reader #marvel #agatha harkness x you #x you #smut

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corporalswhore · 1 month ago

Text

— react (shota aizawa)

pairing: shota aizawa x student!reader

summary: snippets of yours and aizawa’s relationship over time. quiet yearning, love, and a little bit of toxicity.

warnings: major age gap (aizawa is like 35 & reader is around 20). teacher/student relationship. nsfw (v small smut at the end).

a/n: this has been in my drafts for almost 3 years now. paragraph here & there within those years so if the writing is off it’s bc i’m rusty as hell i’m sorry y’all this is just word vomit.

if anybody were to ask shota aizawa if he’s ever been loved — he would say no, mainly because the concept of love has always been foreign to him — he had never thought of himself as someone you’d choose to fall in love with.

his class? they’d have a different answer.

because there’s you — you who has been silently screaming your love to him for years.

it’s in the way you’d bring a cup of coffee for him on your early morning training sessions — you had engraved the sight of him brewing a cup the last time he visited your dorm and subconsciously memorized his order.

your classmates would call you insane when they spot you in the kitchen — with sugar, coffee beans, and measuring utensils splayed all out on the counter. you hovering over the measurements as if an unneeded speck of sugar falling into his cup would lead to your demise.

to you, it would.

aizawa, oblivious to it all, accepts your coffee graciously every time. a small smile gracing his lips as his palm clasps around the mug. a soft thank you is muttered — voice still laced heavily with sleep but sincere.

and it’s his sincerity, his appreciation for you going out of your way to make him this every morning — that gets you through your training every time.

mornings to you, with him — always feels like possibility and hope, the day still untinged — so many things can happen.

and as you take your first sip of coffee, your heart goes warm — but there’s a bitterness on your tongue — a reminder, as you lose yourself in this pitiful fantasy every morning, that this small gesture — is one he doesn’t understand and probably will never.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

it’s in the way you go above and beyond — doing things you’ve never done before just for him. you heard through the grapevine that aizawa shota likes cookies.

you have never baked in your life.

sato, is as kind as ever to indulge you when you bring up the subject of baking cookies just for fun — he ends up giving you his most prized recipe and wishes you luck.

and you have to wonder to yourself, how hard can it be?

it takes you two hours to bake an edible batch.

it’s 11pm and you’re in the dorm’s kitchen — counter littered with parchment paper, sugar, butter, eggs — and god, there’s flour everywhere.

everything’s a mess.

you’ve made almost six batches so far — some either too burnt or not baked enough. shoto, who has been sitting in the living room the entire time, has smelt the distasteful scent of burnt chocolate too many times tonight.

“are you sure you’re following the recipe correctly?” he chirps from afar one time, and the frustrated glare you give him shuts him up for the night.

the seventh batch in the oven right now holds all your hopes and dreams — if it ends up being inedible, you’re quite sure you’d break down.

surprisingly (to you and shoto), it is a success.

it’s thick and chewy — a golden brown color adorning the edges whilst the center remains soft. and shoto, in all his childlike stupor, gobbles down a few immediately.

“good job. i didn’t think you could do it.” he says earnestly whilst chewing.

you roll your eyes at him as you clean the kitchen, packing away the ingredients used and ridding the counters of flour stains — you’re exhausted but absolutely thrilled at your mediocre baking skills.

now, all that’s left to do is deliver it to him.

after making sure the mess you made is thoroughly cleaned up, you grab a small brown paper bag and gently place the cookies inside — praying to god that none breaks or gets smushed.

you opt to write a small note for him — nothing borderline creepy but something sincere — but the only thing that’s in your mind right now is how you’d wish to be the one sweetening his thoughts rather than these cookies. how you wish you were the one to make him feel so light and warm with each taste, rather than these cookies.

you wish you never made them — they’re just a harsh reminder that shota aizawa is an unattainable person for you.

and gosh, you’re breaking down over fucking cookies now — you thank god shoto returned to his room when you were cleaning.

thanks for being a great teacher! xo

short, simple & sweet.

(it’s not even close to what you really wanted to say).

you know he’s awake right now, most likely correcting papers but, you’d rather remain anonymous — not wanting to get caught trespassing in the teachers’ dorm building at this ungodly hour.

plus, you don’t think you can handle explaining yourself to him right now.

cookies? out of the blue? to your teacher?

weird.

you know it’s fruitless doing all of this but — shota aizawa is your idealized daydream, and you are empty without this.

so alas, you leave them by his door — knocking gently then full-on sprinting out of the building.

unbeknownst to the fact that as soon as aizawa opens his door, he’s met with a handwriting he knows all too well.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

it’s in the way you stay back after class on days when aizawa looks like he might pass out if he lifts his pen the wrong way.

the way a quiet adoration seeps through you as you help him tidy up his desk — placing pens and pencils back into his stationery holder, stacking his papers neatly in a corner, and throwing away crumpled-up paper into a dustbin nearby.

and aizawa indulges you — doesn’t have the energy to shoo you off as he’s too engrossed in the file he has been rereading for over ten minutes.

“wanna hear a joke about paper?”

his head rises — eyes locked on you as his eyebrows raise quizzically.

he motions for you to continue.

“nevermind, it’s tearable.”

and aizawa huffs, his distaste for the joke showing evidently — until he sees a small grin forming on your lips, and suddenly he’s mirroring your expression — a soft smile gifted to you.

he feels lighter now — after that lame joke cut through whatever tiredness he was feeling.

and you can tell by the way he straightens his posture just a bit — then flips the paper to the other side, eyes skimming through it quickly and snatching another paper from the stack you cleared up.

you’re relieved — already reaching for your bag and on your way out of the room, not wanting to disturb him anymore.

but before your two feet are out the door, a soft mutter is heard from behind.

“thank you.”

and it melts your heart.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

and if anybody ever asked shota if he had ever loved someone before, he would say no — he’s never allowed himself to indulge in something like that.

hizashi? he’d have a different answer.

because there’s you.

you, who he has been quietly loving without even realizing it.

it’s in the way aizawa subconsciously shifts his schedule. he remembers the one time you mentioned, in passing, that you train alone at USJ after lunch on tuesdays. and suddenly, he’s found himself pacing his steps alongside yours every tuesday.

even though it’s out of his way and he knows he’s cutting it close to his next class.

he tells himself it’s nothing, just a change of scenery, a breath of fresh air until he’s locked between four walls. but there’s something in the way he lingers a bit longer than he should, his steps slowing as you near the training grounds.

you mutter a small thank you to him as usual, offering your kindest smile.

and aizawa revels in it each time, bidding you farewell with a nod before he locks eyes with hizashi atop the staircase.

and the blonde is thoroughly confused.

shota aizawa? walking?

with a student?

it has his gears turning, but it doesn’t take long for him to catch on.

it’s reoccurring, consistent. the look in his bestfriend’s eyes each time you smile at him, and it’s no mistake — since you’ve started to reside in his eyes, they seem to be brighter, more vibrant.

but he knows it’s something shota will never admit to himself.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

it’s in the way aizawa pays attention to you — has learned your little quirks and habits unknowingly throughout the years, and knows how to satiate them.

the second he sees you walk through his door with your hair undone — tangled in minute knots — he knows you’re stressed — absolutely running yourself to the ground about something.

but he never pries, only offers a soft, “you’re doing great, kid,” before you exit his class — and the way your eyes light up at his small praise leaves his stomach in knots.

it’s the way he knows you always forget to bring your gloves when training on a monday — the way he watches you ruffle through your bag, brows furrowed as you search for them — and before you can even admit your blunder, he’s already tossing you one from his desk.

and it’s always brand new — as if he has a pack of gloves stashed in his drawer for this exact moment.

(he does).

“thank you,” you mutter sheepishly — eyes full of warmth and a hint of heat in your cheeks. aizawa brushes it off as usual, with no admonishment on his lips, just a small sense of pride.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

it’s in the way shota’s a bit more protective of you, without realizing it.

he’s already on his feet the second the lights turn red — emergency drill? invader? — he’s not sure exactly what’s happening but the alarm blaring over the intercom has his teeth on edge.

his first instinct, unfortunately, is to look for you across the field.

and there you are, sitting on a bench, bottled water between your legs as you glance around confusedly.

shota shouts for everyone to stay calm and await instructions.

but he’s already bolting in your direction without realizing it, his focus narrowed in a way it shouldn’t be. something in his mind telling him that having you within his line of sight is better for you. that he’s just trying to keep his students safe.

the intercom crackles, something about a small fire in the main building and students should gather at the muster point — and aizawa’s shoulders loosen slightly, tension easing at the announcement.

no immediate threat.

but he can’t shake the feeling, the way his chest constricted — seeing you in a red hue. panic coursing through his veins, rivaling only the strongest rivers at the thought of you alone, vulnerable, left to your own devices.

and he shouldn’t feel this way. no — you’re a hero in training. you’re very much capable of handling yourself — he quite literally trained you so he knows you pack a punch.

so why does aizawa feel as if the thought of leaving you alone is synonymous with him giving away his breath?

something’s not right here — but that thought is buried deep, completely hidden.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

three months after you graduated, shota receives an email that catches him off guard — the message is polite — simple, even. you’re just asking how things are and if he’d be able to grab a cup of coffee sometime to catch up.

it’s innocent, no harm in coffee — right?

wrong.

because the minute he enters the cafe, he knows you and him have begun to blur — that the world has shifted beneath his feet.

it’s hesitation oozing out of him as he makes his way towards your table, but not the kind that comes from doubt, the kind that comes from knowing.

from knowing that the minute he sits across from you, something will begin to unravel — something he isn’t sure he’ll be able to put back together.

his heart.

shota knows better than this — to wrap himself up in such forbidden affairs. regardless if you’re no longer his student — the age gap is huge.

but the second he locks eyes with you, nothing else matters. you’re different now, standing on your own, no longer his student. and yet, you’re still you.

you, who has been silently screaming your love for him for years.

“hi!” you chirp out, warmth radiating from the ceramic mug in your hands. you almost move to hug him, but he’s already settling into the seat across from you — eyes unreadable.

you take a sip of your drink before speaking again. “it’s been a while.”

aizawa nods, “around 3 months.”

you raise an eyebrow. “counting, are we?”

and a smirk tugs at his lips.

the conversation flows easily from there — updates about work, about your old classmates, about anything that isn’t this.

but there’s an undercurrent beneath it all, something unspoken lingering between each exchange, thickening the air.

and finally, you decide to address it.

you set your cup down, tracing the rim absentmindedly as you meet his gaze. “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually come.”

and aizawa stills, flexing his fingers around his cup — he feels like an angsty teenager. “i wouldn’t have come if I didn’t want to.” his voice is low, steady, but there's a hint of uncertainty laced within it.

your breath catches slightly.

“then, can i ask you something?” you lean forward just slightly, watching the way his eyes snap back to you.

he nods.

“can we date?”

and oh my god, aizawa has never thought he’d be in a situation like this — being asked out so directly by his former student.

he is stunned – but he’s not a fool, everything then had prepared him for the now.

his fingers tap against his cup, his jaw tightening. “you’re young.”

you tilt your head, challenging. “i’m not a kid.”

shota studies you carefully, as if weighing his next words. “no, you’re not.”

and that’s the problem, isn’t it? you’re not a child. you’re not his student. you’re standing in front of him as your own person, asking for something real.

asking for him.

aizawa leans back in his chair, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “you should want someone who-”

“don’t do that,” you cut him off, voice firm but not unkind. “don’t tell me what I should want.”

for years, you’ve known exactly what you wanted — never faltering once. it’s one thing to reject you but, deciding for you? that’s just cruel.

he exhales, long and slow. “this isn’t to be taken lightly,”

“i know.” because god, this is all you’ve ever wanted, something serious with him. not a daydream.

“if we do this,” he murmurs, voice lower now, rougher. “i’m not going to pretend there aren’t challenges.”

you nod your head. that’s obvious, but you’re willing to put in the effort.

“you might change your mind.”

“i won’t.”

aizawa watches you, searching, waiting for something — a flicker of hesitation, a sign that you don’t fully understand what you’re asking. but all he sees is certainty.

and maybe that’s what undoes him.

he looks defeated.

as if he’s wrestling against something in his mind, something that sprouts from his heart — but its vines constrict his throat. it’s almost as if he feels like he needs to disagree.

to say no.

that this isn’t right.

but how long will he fight with himself?

when will he allow himself some solace?

now.

and when he glances up to meet your eyes, he realizes that, yes — he has won over the whole world, but he’s lost himself to you.

the effect you have on him is so strong, something he has never felt before — it’s as if he takes your name with each breath he breathes.

what have you done to him?

his fingers tighten once more around his cup, a slow exhale leaving his lips. “sure.”

you blink at him, lips parting slightly, “sure?”

the corner of his mouth lifts, barely there. “you heard me.”

and just like that, the world shifts again.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

and it was as if shota aizawa was made specifically for you.

from the way his calloused fingers grasp yours — the way you can trace constellations on them for days — to the way his clothes drown you with a warmth you’ve never felt before.

to the way he’s never stopped trying to woo you since you’ve both made it official.

“you’ve become my destiny and destination.”

stupid sappy words whispered between the two of you – as if it's your first time in love, and for the both of you, it is.

the minute he locked eyes with you, he’s everything you ever wanted — older, wiser, the kind of man who doesn’t let insecurity cloud his judgment, who doesn’t feel the need to mark his territory or stake his claim. he trusts you, respects you — and unwaveringly loves you.

something you’d never get with a man your age. he’s in check with his emotions. a mentally stable man. a walking green flag.

and god he’s perfect for you in every way, but sometimes you’d wish he’d just — show some type of reaction to things.

you’re young, generations apart, you get that but — sometimes you’d wish he’d be possessive, get a bit jealous — throw you up against a wall and ask you are you sure wanna wear that?

it’s your naivety that craves a bit of toxicity. a thrill. nothing huge, just a small bit of possessiveness is hot, it’s able to rile you up.

and so you try to do just that.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

trial one.

you know he’s watching you.

observing as you gulp down not one, but three shots back to back — but he’s not watching for the right reasons. no, you know he’s only monitoring your alcohol intake, making sure you’re not overdoing it.

you know his gears aren’t turning, not wondering for a second why katsuki has his arm slung lazily around your shoulder, fingers interlocked with yours like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

no, your boyfriend sits quietly in the booth, fingers tracing the rim of his glass as hizashi yaps about something he isn’t the slightest interested in — but his eyes never leave you.

yet, they don’t narrow, his jaw doesn’t twitch, grip on his glass doesn’t get tighter when he sees his past student dropping his head just enough to murmur something low against your ear which makes you giggle.

and maybe that makes him swallow a bit hard but, it’s not enough for him to get up off his seat to break you both up.

and you let that thought fuck with your head as you down another shot — because why does he refuse to throw you a bone?

any normal boyfriend would not let another man casually lock fingers with their girlfriend — why is he always so composed? it’s boring.

you start to wonder if he’s just too secure. if he’s convinced you’ll never cheat, never stray — and while he’s right, couldn’t he at least pretend to worry?

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

trial two.

that is not your jacket.

shota knows that, you know that.

and yet, he doesn’t budge when he sees todoroki shrug it off and drape it over your shoulders. doesn’t even blink when you slip it on like you’ve done a million times, and maybe you have — the way it fits you like a glove.

the moment is soft, nostalgic, oozes with familiarity. almost too gentle to interrupt.

it’s only natural, shota thinks — obviously you both have a bond, you literally grew up together. been through war together. but it’s all platonic, all brotherly-sisterly.

shoto tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear — no hesitation, no second thoughts, almost as if it was pure muscle memory. you don’t check for shota’s reaction. you already know it. neutral — stoic, not a hint of possessiveness in sight.

and it kills you.

because shouldn’t this rattle him? shouldn’t the idea of you wrapped in someone else’s jacket — his own former student’s jacket — be enough to spark something?

man, how hard is it to get a bit of toxicity here? just one glare, one shake of his head, some signal to tell you to take that shit off right now.

but it never comes — because the man you love isn’t like that.

he’s quiet. he’s patient. he has complete, unshakable trust in you — in your choices. you chose to be with him, and not the boy you stayed up numerous nights with to study for math.

no, you made your bed, and he knows you will sleep in it.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

trial three.

midoriya is sentimental.

so, when he places a pair of earrings on your lap — muttering something along the lines of, oh this reminded me of you, you can’t help but burst into tears.

it’s too cute — everything about it, the thought, the earring, the boy you grew up with.

and next to you, shota remains quiet.

not because he’s seething, not because he’s pretending to keep it together, but because he truly isn’t threatened. in fact, his eyes are soft, as if he’s watching a memory play out that he’s not a part of — but respects nonetheless.

and maybe a part of you thinks you should count your blessings, that he’s just that type. any man your age would’ve flipped the entire table, start a fight, or even insult your friend.

thank god you got a good guy.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

trial four.

and keigo is a breath of fresh air.

the minute he spots you at his gala, he makes a beeline your way — a warm smile, sharp eyes, and a voice like silk.

“so glad you made it,” a grin tugs at his lips as he pulls you into a hug, his cologne brushing your senses just before his voice dips closer to your ear. “you look stunning.”

and your breath hitches, cheeks colored in sacred hues of surrender — like a little girl absolutely smitten by your high-school crush. but reality dawns the second you feel his presence behind you — the air thickening with the weight of his aura. it’s silent, heavy.

a large hand presses to the small of your back, grounding, and anchoring you in place.

“oh, keigo — have you met mr. eraserhead?” you question, ignoring the way your voice jumps an octave higher.

shota thinks, what happened to boyfriend? when did you two become so well-acquainted?

and keigo’s smile doesn’t falter when he sees shota’s arm wrap around your waist — almost protectively, possessively. thumb rubbing circles absentmindedly into your side, like a warning.

“nice to meet you!” he says, extending his hand.

and shota shakes it.

but he doesn’t miss the way keigo’s eyes linger on you, nor the way you tuck your hair behind your ear — almost shy.

and then it starts clicking for him — you have a little crush, and it makes you look stupid.

“mr. eraserhead, huh?” shota murmurs, after keigo walks off to greet someone else.

shota is not dense. he knows when to be concerned and when not to be. his past students he will never be envious of — but keigo, who is just a few years older than you — young and talented and someone of your generation has shota straightening his back a bit, chest puffed.

almost like he has something to prove.

“hm? that’s your name,” you say matter-of-factly — eyes still loosely trained on keigo. effortless charm oozing out of him as he works the room. you’re starstruck.

“you might as well have called me aizawa-sensei.” he monotones, pulling you in closer to his side. you frown a little, “what do you mean?”

“you forgot a small title,” he mentions, giving you a pointed look. that’s when you glance up at him, and shota can see the cogs turning now — he knows you’re smart, sees you playing with the idea of acting coy or not.

“oh.”

“oh?” he repeats — he has to laugh.

shota thinks that little crush of yours has you forgetting who you belong to — has you thinking you’re still on the market, ready to be swooped away.

and maybe that’s when you see a sprinkle of jealousy on his features. the way his hand on your waist tightens, stance solid and eyes narrowed on the winged hero in a way that’s not friendly.

how fun — finally a reaction.

and when you murmur, “he’s so pretty, though.” your boyfriend doesn’t flinch, doesn’t blink — but the look in his eye screams don’t test me.

his grip tightens almost imperceptibly, and his lips brush your ear, “keep playing with me, baby. see what happens.”

and that’s all you ever do.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

and shota tries to be gentle, he always does. but the second the door clicks shut at home, his patience runs thin.

before you can even turn around, he’s on you — slamming you up against the wall — mouth claiming yours in a kiss that’s all give and take. muttering something along the lines of i fucking own you and it makes your pussy drip as he slides down — hands already discarding your underwear.

shota hikes your legs over his broad shoulders and wraps his arms around your upper thighs firmly. his tongue makes slow orbits around your pussy, teasing your clit and slipping sinuously into your cunt, repeatedly — and you can’t keep quiet.

“you think fucking keigo can get you wet like this? have you moaning like this?” it’s all rhetorical. you both know the answer to these questions.

shota knows you’ve been fucking with him all this time. knows you were just itching for a reaction from him, wanted him to stake his claim on you.

make you his.

he pulls back just enough to glare up at you — lips wet with your arousal, eyes dark and glittering. “look at you,” he rasps, breath hot against your folds. “dripping for me. only me.”

you whimper, one hand fisting the fabric of his shirt. and that’s all it takes — within seconds he’s up on his feet, throwing you over the sofa — legs spread wide, he has a couple of ideas on how he can mark you.

and the moment his dick slips into your cunt, he knows exactly how to remind you who you belong to — how to brand you forever.

“mine,” he hisses through gritted teeth, driving into you with bruising force. “say it.” and all you can manage is a soft whine, a plead, “y-yes yours!”

he smiles — something sinister in his grin as he slams into you harder, setting a brutal pace that leaves you sobbing into the cushions.

shota knows now that all you wanted was to be put in your place.

and now you know to stop fucking with him – you got what you wanted.

#🧁#aizawa shota x student!reader #aizawa shouta x student!reader #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shota smut #aizawa shota imagines #aizawa shouta imagines #mha imagines

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puck-luck · 2 months ago

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hi andy! this is my first ever ask but i just love your writing so so much that i had to participate. could i please order a chai latte with peppermint for any of the hughes brothers, you pick, i trust your brilliant mind- best friends brother trope. congrats on one year! 🫶

i am so honored to be the recipient of your first ever ask<3 i went with jack for this blurb (1.9K) and reader is luke's best friend.

warnings: possessive jack, guilt from reader, unprotected p in v, kind of insecure luke (sry lulu), spit kink, DIRTY talk, uhhhh without spoiling it... having sex in... someone else's bed.

You were doomed the first time Luke told you that he sometimes feels like he’s just Jack’s little brother. You were at Michigan with him at the time, hanging out in his dorm room while Dylan was out, when you and Luke had your first real deep talk. It was late at night and you both were overtired, but you weren’t willing to go back to your room just yet. Luke didn’t want you to leave, either. You both were having a lot of fun talking and baring your souls to each other.

“I love my brothers, but sometimes it feels like people only want to be my friend because of them,” Luke had admitted quietly. “I wish more people were interested in, like… me. Not ‘Luke Hughes,’ but… just me.”

You hadn’t met the brothers at that point, although you felt like you knew them from Luke’s stories alone. Without telling him, you vowed that you’d never feel more for his brothers than you do for Luke. You’ve become friends with each of them over the years, and friendship was fine as long as they didn’t overtake Luke as your best friend, but things took a turn this spring.

It’s your final semester at UMich and you’re trying to make the most of it. When Jack got injured in March, Luke had asked you to keep an eye on him while he was living alone in the lake house and recovering. Luke was worried that Jack would become hermitish and sullen in the wake of his injury and another surgery, so you’d been more than happy to send Luke updates.

Jack was lonely in the house. You started spending more and more time there, keeping him company. You’d spend the afternoons there when you were done with classes, studying and hanging out with Jack so he didn’t feel quite so isolated. You started spending the night because it was too late to drive an hour back to Ann Arbor and Jack promised it wasn’t putting him out at all. In fact, it was his idea.

Then it happened. Things went too far one night and you ended up breaking your own vow. The first time, you thought it was a fluke. You avoided the house for a full week until Luke texted you and asked how Jack was doing, cornering you and forcing you to go back to see if he was okay. It happened again… and again.

You regret it every morning, feeling like garbage for feeling something more for Jack when you swore you’d never make Luke feel like you’re just friends with him for his brother, and yet you can’t seem to stop yourself from succumbing to Jack whenever he looks at you like that.

He took you out to a bar tonight, celebrating the end of the school year. All you have left are your finals and then you’ll be done, graduated, and on the job hunt. You’ve been looking, but haven’t found anything yet, and you’ve got a full summer to apply and hope for the best.

You’re both tipsy when you make it back to the house. Jack was kissing you in the Uber and kisses you all the way up the walkway, pressing your body into the front door as he fumbles with his key and blindly lets you in. You almost fall backwards into the foyer when he opens the door, but Jack wraps a strong arm around your waist and keeps you upright. He keeps your core aligned with his bulge, showing you just how badly he wants you.

The house is dark as you make your way upstairs. You’re lost in Jack’s kisses, allowing him to guide you in the general direction of a bed. One of his hands has snaked its way up your shirt and taken it off, dropping it in the hallway, and is now working on unclasping your bra. His mouth trails down to your neck, sloppily licking over your jaw and sucking a hickey beneath your earlobe.

You and Jack collapse against the mattress, his body solid on top of yours. He rolls his hips down, between the juncture of your thighs, and you moan into his mouth. The uninhibited thrust of his covered cock against your clothed core was satisfying in the way that it only can be in this state– tipsy and drunk on the lingering taste of beer on Jack’s tongue.

He finally removes your bra and gets his mouth on your tits, sucking blemishes over the soft skin as his fingers unbutton your jeans and wiggle inside your panties. You’re already dripping from all the times his tongue sparred with yours on the journey up to this room, so Jack is met with no resistance when two of his fingers make their way inside of you.

“So fucking wet,” Jack praises, his voice a low growl. “God, baby, you’ve soaked your panties already. All because I gave you a few kisses?”

You whimper and grind into his touch, his fingertips close to but not touching your g-spot. “All for you,” you confirm in a wanton voice, saying anything that’ll speed this up. Your abdomen is a dam that’s waiting to burst.

Jack takes your nipple in his mouth and hollows his cheeks, suckling harshly and flicking his tongue over the bud. He looks up at you with those deep blue eyes, dark and glinting through the shadows of the bedroom, and a strand of hair falls over his forehead. The heel of his palm rubs against your clit, applying pressure as his fingers beckon inside of you quickly. He rolls his hips into your thigh, his hard length getting some well-deserved attention through his own pants. He moans against your nipple, tongue flat and eyelashes fluttering, and switches sides before rolling his hips again. He bites down on your nipple and his fingers dance against your g-spot, the stimulation against your clit too much to hold back, and you come with shaky legs because of all of Jack’s efforts and how pretty he looks with his pink lips wrapped around the peak of your breast.

“Atta girl,” Jack continues, licking over his bottom lip in a way that is almost predatory. “You want this?” He thrusts against your thigh again, overexaggerated and slow. “Want me to fuck you, pretty girl?”

“Jack,” you plead. He’s still wearing his t-shirt, so you fist the fabric and try to pull it off.

He chuckles and gets his hands on the back of his collar, tugging the shirt from his body and throwing it across the room. He lays a kiss on your mouth before standing at the edge of the bed and unzipping his pants, frantically shimmying out of them.

You do the same, matching his pace. You’re writhing on the quilted blanket atop the bed, which is weird because you could’ve sworn that Jack has a comforter, given the fact that he runs cold, but you’re more focused on freeing your legs and removing your panties so that Jack can hurry up and get inside you.

Both sufficiently naked, Jack stays at the foot of the bed, pulling you towards him by your hips. He brings one of your ankles to rest on his shoulder, allowing the other one to dangle. Your foot finds the floor and Jack kicks it wide, making space for himself. He fists his cock and slaps the head against your clit before finding your gaping, seeping entrance with the blunt tip.

You arch your back when he thrusts forward sharply, half of his length working into you at once. He draws back out and fucks inside of you entirely on the second thrust, filling you up and knocking the breath from your lungs. “Oh my God,” you moan.

Jack smirks at that. “Oh, yeah?” he asks. He plants his hands on either side of your shoulders, hinging forward so he’s hovering above you. The stretch in your hamstrings is enough to have you humming in relief, then Jack catches your mouth while it’s still open and launches a glob of spit onto your tongue.

Your eyes roll back in your head and you swallow the saliva, feeling Jack’s hand move down to grasp your throat. In the already dark room, your vision dances with black spots from the deprivation of oxygen.

“Touch yourself,” Jack commands in a strong voice, leaving no room for argument. “Rub your clit. Make yourself feel good while I fuck you.”

You nod helplessly, right hand finding the apex of your legs and struggling to make proper contact with the sensitive nerves due to Jack’s rough thrusts displacing your body. Once you’re able to get your hand in the right place, you’re circling your fingers uncontrollably, hips jerking into your touch and into Jack’s brutal, ramming movements.

Your brain is fuzzy and your eyes are screwed shut and Jack’s hand is on your neck and his mouth is poised right next to your ear and he whispers–

“Does it feel good, huh? Are you about to come, baby?”

“Please, Jack, can I? I’m so close,” you babble, lips touching the curve of his jaw and tasting the droplets of sweat that have formed there.

You feel his smile, his evil, beautiful smile, form. He licks over your earlobe and traps it between his lips, gently tugging. “Let go whenever you’re ready, sweet thing.”

You shudder and your free hand goes around the nape of Jack’s neck. Your fingers curl into the long strands and he hisses at the pressure against his scalp, but he doesn’t stop moving. He drops another line of spit into your open mouth, then kisses your lax lips.

You feel like what you imagine a supernova feels like– a bright, hot, abrupt flash of energy collapsing against itself and becoming completely destroyed.

Jack clicks his tongue and talks you through it. “Oh, there you go… what would Lukey think if he could see you now, hear all the nonsense you’re saying while you come all over his big brother’s cock? On his bed, baby? You’re such a slut, God, so perfect for me, just for me…”

He drives his hips into your heat, bodies slapping together in a wet symphony until Jack trembles and releases his load right in your pussy, flooding your cunt and claiming you.

You breathe heavily, gasping and trying to catch your breath after that intense orgasm. It’s the strongest one that you’ve ever experienced and it’s followed by a terrible comedown– the abrupt comprehension of what Jack just said and how you’d desecrated your best friend’s bedroom with his older brother, the one that everyone seems to adore more than sweet Luke. You’re mortified as Jack pulls out of your cunt and grins down at his handiwork, teeth glinting in the moonlight that seeps through the window. You feel frozen in place, ice running through your veins as Jack’s hot cum leaks out of your pussy and onto Luke’s quilt.

His words were possessive. He growled them in your ears with full confidence and worse, he was right. You’re a slut for Jack, you’re drunk on him, you keep falling into this trap and digging yourself deeper, and there’s no way Luke can ever know. You’re screwed– but you also can’t stop. It’s too good, Jack is too good, and you feel empty without him around. Fuck.

#1 Year of Puck-Luck!#andy writes anything🍄#jack hughes #jack hughes smut #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes blurb #jh86 #jack hughes x reader #nhl #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl blurb #hockey smut #hockey blurb

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blue-jisungs · 1 year ago

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Hiii how are you? Did you eat?

I was wondering if you could write enhypen or p1h finding out their significance other still sleeps with plushies as you already did their with seventeen please

Have a good morning afternoon or evening

Lots of love A:)

you still sleep with plushies ♡

# author's note ... hehe hi anon! thank u, i’m good and i did eat (omw to eat some more actually :D)!! hbu!! i decided to choose p1h since i don’t have much written for them yet (this is a first reaction for them actually:0) i hope you like it and have a lovely day as well<3

# warnings ... mention of being drunk in theo's :P

┆彡 KEEHO [ 기호 ]

girl why would he judge, he has a lot of plushies too

he thinks it’s actually really cute that u n him have a similar hobby:(

will deffo buy you matching ones 🥹

loves when you come around and bring your plushie…

… and then leave it (accidentally, you swear) so he can cuddle w it:(

is a proud father ™️ of them!!!

also loves falling asleep in ur bed because you have a huge collection and it’s just so warm and cozy 🥹

he lets his inner child heal completely when he’s with you

(and your plushies)

((deffo has a fav one of yours but swore not to tell you, 'so the others don’t get jealous' ❤️‍🩹 ))

┆彡 INTAK [ 인탁 ]

he’s very neutral about it 😭

won’t tease you but won’t get really excited either

however will gush over how cute you are when you fall asleep with a bunch of plushies in your arms:(

also will suport your little hobby no matter what

you’re broke but want a plushie? he’s already paying. there’s one that you’ve been eyeing and it’s back in stock? he’s hyping you up as you buy it. wanna dress the plushies? oh don’t you worry, he will help you

i believe he’d be also like an old dog like 😭 he’s sit unbothered while you place the plushies on him and then takes photos :(

┆彡 THEO [ 테오 ]

taeyang and you had some wine when he stayed over at your place and it’s not like you told him before that you have a bunch of plushies…

but that man was so drunk that he yelled out upon seeing them

"that’s a whole ass army, what the hell? can i hug all of them at once?!"

yeah he’s very much in love with them

even cuddles some to sleep

but then when he wakes up he pretends like nothing happened

stacks them on you while you still sleep…

and when you stir awake and ruin his tower, he smothers your face in kisses

"what? why? are you still drunk?" you ask sleepily and he just grins against your skin

"your plushies are cute… but not as cute as you" is all he says

(will definitely randomly pretend to get into a staring contest with one of the plushies)

(and then has the audacity to fuss that 'the soulless state of the plushie' made him lose)

(whatever you say, boss)

┆彡 JIUNG [ 지웅 ]

you’d invite him to sleep over one day and while you goofed around n had fun

you totally forgot about your plushies

so when you laid down in bed, you heard jiung shuffle a bit

"can i kick the little guy off? he’s getting in my way and i just wanna cuddle you" he asked quietly, a bit unsure and you let out the loudest gasp

"yeah, just put him away gently" you giggle at his cuteness and how he cared abt the plushie:(

jiung thought it’s really cute that you have a lil army of plushies hehe

and esp how your cheeks adorably dusted with pink when you spoke abt them

loves naming them ☹️☹️☹️

(even if they have names already but who would care?!)

┆彡 SHOTA [ 翔太 ]

i mean come on he’s an angel 🥹

he would get so excited if you told him you have plushies n still sleep with them:(

would love to know everything about them, names, where did u get them from, the material they’re made of, which character they represent…

and if you have pokémon plushies???

girl he’s ready to marry you on spot

however.

h o w e v e r.

he steals them.

the first time it happens you’re like "well maybe it got lost in the laundry? or got kicked off the bed?" so you brush it off

but then more and more go missing…

and one day you see YOUR plushie on HIS bed as he is facetiming you

"i can’t sleep without them" >:(

and mf woukd either go "the ransom is a pokémon card pack" or "then come over and sleep with me"

┆彡 JONGSEOB [ 종섭 ]

you were a bit nervous when you invited him over for the first time, especially since you decided to tell him about your secret

seob could sense something was wrong but he assumed it’s just the fact that you’re gonna have him over

so he tried to ease the tension and pointed at the plushies on your bed

"you still sleep with those?" he asked, half amused, half… oh.

the second he saw your smile drop and eyes turning away in shame, it (kinda) clicked: you were stressed to tell him that

"sorry, i know it’s childish… i can throw them out if it makes you uncomfortable…" you murmured sadly and his whole world collapsed

pampers you and showers you in kisses, reassuring you that he doesn’t mind and he was just joking:(

it takes him a while but finally there’s a smile on your face

treats them extra gently and protects them from falling from the bed:(

but he’s just a boy man after all and he just gets this… impulsive thoughts to punch them when you’re not around 🧍‍♀️

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee

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jeonginsleftcheek · 11 months ago

Text

Me or him (part 4)

~ part 1, part 2, part 3

pairing: felix x afab!reader x hyunjin genre: angst, smut word count: 3.2k warning/s: swearing, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, squirting, unprotected p in v (don't do it), creampie, no happy ending!!! a/n: this is the last chapter of this mini series! i hope you enjoyed it as much as i had fun writing it🫶🏻(and also made myself cry while writing this last chapter dkdldl) ~ check out my: Masterlist

The last few days, you were nothing but miserable. All day, every day you thought about what you did and the more you thought about it, the more it depressed you.

Felix has been texting and calling for days. But you couldn't deal with him and the last thing he said before he left that night.

'I'll never give up on us.'

What he said made you even more mad in that moment. You tried calling Hyunjin but it seems that he blocked your number as soon as he left the apartment and your life.

You knew there was no going back and there was no way he would ever forgive either of you but you wanted to at least tell him how bad you felt for betraying him and breaking his heart.

Changbin came to pick Hyunjin's stuff up and he gave you the cold shoulder as soon as he saw you.

"H-how's Hyunjin?"- you ask quietly as Changbin packs his stuff.

"How do you think he is?"- he scoffs, not even looking at you.

"I- I know I fucked up real bad. But can you just tell him how sorry-"

"No, y/n. You don't get to apologize and feel better because of it. Hyunjin deserves more than a shitty apology you're making just because you feel guilty. I hope you feel guilty for a very long time cause you really broke his heart. Both you and... Felix. I don't wish anything ill upon anyone usually, but honestly whatever karma you two get, you deserve it."- Changbin says, shoving the last of the boxes closed.

You're silent. There is nothing you can do, you know Changbin loves Hyunjin like a brother and nothing you say to him in this moment can repair what you've broken.

"Also, here's anything you gifted to Hyunjin or him to you while you were together. He doesn't want any of the stuff to remind him of you so sell them, throw them away or something. I don't know."- Changbin shrugs, bringing in a box.

"Goodbye, y/n."

Your apartment might as well be completely vacant cause that's how it feels. Half of your closet is empty. Hyunjin's favorite snacks are gone from the pantry. His paintings that adorned the walls were gone, the paint on the wall lighter where they used to hang, leaving just a shadow of what once was.

The smell of his skin has almost completely faded away from your sheets. You can't even sleep in your bed because every time you lay down in it, you remember how you said your lovers name in the most intimate moment shared with your boyfriend, and your chest squeezes in anxiety.

You sleep on the couch, you force yourself to eat, you exist at work, your days seem to be seeping into one long painful experience. It's like you're barely even real, like the world is moving around you in slow motion and you're just there.

You can't take it.

You can't take being alone.

Your hand trembles as you lift it up, contemplating if you should actually be doing this.

It's still not too late to turn back and just go home. But what are you going back home to? Empty walls? A cold bed? That damn box of things that remind Hyunjin of you that you still didn't manage to bring yourself even to touch?

No, you can't go back there. Not like this.

So you ring the doorbell.

"Coming!"- you hear his muffled voice.

The door opens and a disheveled Felix widdens his eyes at the sight of you.

"Y/n!"- he gasps.

"I... I didn't know where else to go."- you say weakly.

Felix stares at you for a moment, the look in his eyes becoming softer.

"Come in."- he says and steps aside.

You end up sitting on his couch, where everything started. Pretty ironic, you think. He sits down too, and the two of you struggle to say something.

"Didn't you say that you don't ever wanna see me again?"- he asks quietly.

"That didn't stop you from calling and texting."- you answer equally as quiet.

"Well, I said I wont give up on us. That wasn't a lie."- he says and you sigh, finally finding the courage to look at him. He waits for you to say something and you stare at him, his eyes still warm when they look at you. You hurt him too though, haven't you?

"Felix, I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't really mean it. I was angry at myself and I took it out on you. I mean that's no excuse but we both did a really shitty thing. I feel so fucking guilty, sick to my stomach for hurting someone as wonderful as Hyunjin is."- your eyes water. "I think about it every day. I really hope he can heal and find someone better. And I... well I want to try giving us a chance if you still want me."- Felix's eyes widden.

"But I need to know that you feel guilty too. I need to know that you know what we did was wrong."- you add, wiping away tears that slowly made their way down your cheeks.

"Ofcourse I feel guilty, y/n. I'm not some kind of monster. Hyunjin is- was one of my closest friends. I broke his heart too, I betrayed him too. And I do think about it. But, I can't help also thinking about you every day. I still want you, I want to be there for you. I want to be yours."

Your heart speeds up when you hear those words and you wordlessly lean in, closing the gap between you and Felix. His lips are soft against yours and only when he reciprocates the kiss, you realize you missed him.

"Wait a sec."- Felix gently grabs your wrists, leaning away from you.

"What is it?"- you ask as you notice his lips trembling.

"I don't want this to be just fucking to you. I don't want to be a rebound. I want to have a real chance of a relationship with you, like we're starting from the beginning."- Felix's eyes are big as he scans your face.

Your chest tightens.

"I... Okay."- you nod. "But I need you now. I missed you."- you confess and it's exactly what Felix wants to hear.

"I missed you too. I thought I'd never see you again."- his hands cup your face as he talks between kisses. "I need you too."- he adds and kisses you more passionately as you tangle your hands in his hair.

Something in your gut feels wrong, something nagging at you in the back of your mind but still you let Felix take you to his bedroom. It looks exactly how you remember it and everything smells like him. He kisses you, his tongue exploring your mouth, his hands holding your hips tightly.

You're drunk on the taste of him, it's all so familiar, so comforting that you lose your mind to his touch.

You grip his waist and turn him around, pushing him down to sit on the bed.

"Y/n..."- Felix lets out a shaky breath as you place your palms on his thighs, spreading his legs apart before you slowly kneel down in between them.

"Fuck..."- he whines as your hand comes in contact with his hard, clothed member. You grip him and move your hand on him, feeling him grow under your touch.

You don't want to waste too much time so you hook your fingers in his sweatpants and slide them down with his boxers and Felix whines as soon as the cold air hits his leaking cock.

You lean in and lick at his tip gathering the precum, swirling your tongue around until you take him in your mouth and suck gently. Felix grips at the bed, the sight of you on your knees, pleasing him like that makes his heart beat fast.

Drunk on the feeling of his cock heavy on your tongue you keep taking more and more of him in, swallowing and humming around him, driving him crazy with desire.

His hands tangle in your hair and he grabs a fistful of it, pushing his hips up and accidentally making you gag around him.

"Ah, shit!"- he whines as his cock twitches inside your mouth.

You bob your head faster and moans keep spilling from his lips as you bring him closer to the edge.

"Stop, stop, don't make me cum yet!"- Felix whines and you lift off of him, licking your lips and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Let me taste you too, sweetheart."- he says, his voice deeper than usually and his pupils blown, the nickname he always uses for you making your pussy throb.

Pretty soon, you're naked with him between your legs, his tongue lapping at you hungrily like he was deprived of actual food for months.

His fingers work to open you up as he sucks on your clit, tongue darting out to tease your wetness.

"Missed your taste."- his voice is muffled as he speaks into you, his eyes closed in pure bliss as he keeps eating you out.

"Lix!"- you whimper as your hips spasm towards his face, his fingers finding that gummy spot inside you. "Ah, don't stop."- you say and he speeds up, making your legs shake and your heart race as he keeps hitting that sweet spot, his tongue lapping at your clit.

Pleasure washes over you and you explode, squirting all over his face and the bed.

"Shit, sorry!"- you gasp and Felix chuckles.

"Don't apologize, that was really hot."- he smirks, fingers caressing your wet folds. "I guess this pussy really missed me."

"It did."- you whisper breathlessly, as he leans in again and gives you a few kitten licks.

"I missed her too."

"Felix"- you tug at his hair and try to lift him up. He looks up at you and smirks, his thumb on your clit.

"Want something?"- he asks.

"Don't tease me now. You know what I want."- you whine.

"Say it, sweetheart."- he says, his deep voice sending vibrations through you.

"I want your cock, please."- you give in immediately and Felix smirks triumphantly as he slides his hands up to cup your breasts, hovering over you. One of his hands grabs his neglected cock that's screaming for any kind of attention and he gives it a few pumps, the tip caressing your wet cunt.

You grip at his arm, nails digging into his skin as he pushes in, your pussy molding around the shape of him, the familiar stretch.

Felix loses himself as soon as he feels your warm, wet walls clenching around him and he fucks you with vigor.

"Oh my god!"- you whimper, holding onto him for dear life.

"Fuck, I missed you so much."- Felix whimpers, face buried in your neck as he keeps shoving his cock inside you, waves of pleasure making you feel like you're floating on air.

"More, more, more..."- you keep chanting.

"I love you, I love you, y/n."- he says desperately holding onto your hips, but you only moan in response as you spasm, your juices spilling all over his cock.

"Felix!"- you moan his name as he keeps fucking you, hips snapping into you strongly.

"I'm close. Can I cum inside? Please, let me cum inside."- he begs repeatedly and you've never seen him this desperate.

A brief thought of a rule runs through your mind, one that the two of you have already broken before. The one where you told Felix that he can't come inside you, only Hyunjin can, and your mind races, a pang of guilt hitting you again.

"Please, y/n, I can't hold it much longer."- Felix ruts into you sloppily.

"Okay, you can cum inside me."- you whisper, nails digging into his back as he growls lowly, hips picking up speed again.

Between his low grunts and the whispered 'I love you's', his hips stutter as he finishes, his hot cum filling you up and making you feel incredibly wet.

"You didn't say it back."- Felix whispers as he pulls out and lays next to you, facing you so you face him too.

"I'm sorry."- you whisper, tears threatening to spill.

"I'll wait for you."- he says.

"Okay."- you say as his hand gently caresses your cheek.

Felix promises he'll work on himself and on your relationship. You promise you'll work on yourself too and give this a real chance.

And you really try but deep down you know you don't love Felix the way you loved Hyunjin which makes you even more confused at why you even started the affair, and how you ended up sharing pancakes on a date with him instead of celebrating four years with Hyunjin.

Felix looks happy, the happiest you've seen him and you can't even count how many fake smiles you fed him. It's wrong and it makes you feel like an even worse person than before.

The box of stuff Hyunjin returned to you is buried deep inside your closet, still unopened and untouched. It's been a few months and you still can't make yourself sift through it or even just throw it away.

Whenever you're at home, you want to run away because your apartment still reminds you of Hyunjin, and you still can't let Felix in and you definitely don't want him in the bed you and Hyunjin shared. So you go to Felix's place but whenever you're there, he's there and he doesn't want to leave you alone for a moment, and his apartment just reminds you of the many times you ran into his arms behind your boyfriend's back.

Felix is too excited, too happy and you know he's not stupid, you're pretty sure he can feel that you don't love him the way he loves you, he's just trying to ignore it.

Maybe it's best if you actually start fresh, away from everything and everyone that remind you of the biggest mistake you've made in your life.

"Lix, can we talk?"- you start one afternoon, as you hang out in his apartment.

"Yeah, what's up?"- he asks, his attention on you.

Oh, boy. Even though Felix wasn't a saint, he didn't deserve to have his heart broken but the more you thought about it, the more you came to the conclusion that it would be best if the two of you went your own separate ways.

"This isn't something I'm doing just like that, it's something I thought over and over about and I'm doing this with a heavy heart- but I think we should separate. And for real this time. I mean actually never talk again."- Felix's face morphs from sadness to annoyance as he listens to you.

"Why would you say something like that? I thought we were making progress. I thought you-"

"Felix, please, just listen for a sec. I'm sorry but I don't love you like you love me. I care for you but that's as far as my feelings go."- you say and he looks at you like a kicked puppy. "I don't want to keep lying to you because I feel like I'm doing that constantly. I can't move on from what we did to Hyunjin, I can't heal or become a better person. Neither can you, because this isn't healthy. Our relationship was never healthy. And I think both of us are just keeping each other stuck and lying to ourselves thinking that this could work when it started out as betrayal to someone who cared about both of us. We can't build a healthy relationship on that. I said I'd give it a chance and I did but I can't do this anymore. Not to myself and not to you. I want you to also be happy and find someone who will love you properly."- by the time you finish talking, both of you are crying.

"I don't know what to say, y/n. It just hurts a lot to hear that you don't feel the same for me because I've been loving you for years. I know that I made the first move and I was wrong for that. I was wrong to come between you and Hyunjin. B-but I thought if he had a chance to start over, maybe you'd grow to love me. Obviously, I can't force you to."- he sniffles so you grab his hand.

"It's really over now, huh?"- he asks, squeezing your hand.

"I'm really sorry Felix. For everything."

"Me too."- he nods. "P-please just let me kiss you and hold you one last time."- he whispers.

"Okay."- you whisper back and Felix presses his lips on yours, the taste of salty tears making your heart ache. He puts his arms around you and holds you tightly. You hold him too, while you both cry. But it's better this way. It's better to start completely fresh, for all three of you.

"I'll always love you."- he whispers.

"I know you will."- you whisper back and Felix smiles sadly.

He watches as you walk away from the window, lips trembling, still not completely aware that that is the last time he'll ever see you.

You're sitting on your floor crosslegged, the box Hyunjin returned in front of you.

You think it's time to finally open it.

You slowly lift up the lid and look into it.

It's like a time capsule of your moments together. There are three sketchbooks inside, filled with sketches of you. You smiling, cooking, sleeping, existing. Just you through Hyunjin's eyes. Cologne you bought him that makes you tear up because it brings up memories of his scent that he always left on your sheets and your skin. Shared jewelry he always got for the two of you so you could be matching. Couple rings you wore that made you remember all your friends teasing you that you got engaged within 3 months of dating. Your favorite t-shirt of his, the one he gave you to wear the first night you made love. Since then it became yours and Hyunjin loved seeing you in it, nothing else just the shirt and your pretty legs. There were tickets to art exhibitions you went to together, where Hyunjin would pull out his camera and take pictures of you and the pretty paintings surrounding you. Tickets to concerts you attended together, where you would dance like crazy and have fun like you had no worries on your mind. At the very bottom there were some photos. Photos of you, Hyunjin and Felix when the three of you first became friends. The smiles you had in the photos, pure happiness to be in each other's company, innocent and unaware of what the future holds.

You start crying as you put everything back in the box fast. You don't know how long you lay on your floor crying and hoping that this was all a bad dream and the three of you were still friends and your feelings weren't complicated and you didn't fuck everything up and no one's heart was broken.

But, sadly your reality slaps you in the face. The reality where you ruined your relationship and your friendship. The reality where you betrayed someone who loved you selflessly. The reality where you gave false hope to someone who cared about you. The reality where in the process of breaking hearts, you broke your own heart too. You hope one day you'll be able to pick up the pieces.

Today is not that day.

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