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#how to tuck in t-shirt
cheese-in-space · 2 months
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My fashion sense is so goofy idk how I haven’t been punted into the sun by now but I like it
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sysig · 1 year
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Cat wearing clothes (Patreon)
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classyrbf · 2 months
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SHE SAID IT'S HER FIRST TIME! — NANAMI KENTO
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SYNOPSIS...older bf!nanami finds out he’s your first time and he intends to make it very special
INFO...older bf!nanami x virgin fem!reader, age gap (earlier 20s, early 30s), virginity loss, consent checks, praise, nipple sucking, fingering, pussy eating, penetration, slight blood, slight crying, creampie, nanami grows kinda feral, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Having Nanami as an older boyfriend was such a joy. The maturity, thoughtfulness, communication, love, commitment, and patience you received from him was more than you could have ever asked for. You were always so open with him, telling him everything and just being the annoying girl friend you were. But, there is one thing that you’ve kept hidden for the last six months of your relationship.
Every time things got heated between you Nanami while making out or getting handsy, you always backed out last minute telling him that you “weren’t ready” and he always understood and respected your boundaries. Though, you are ready. If you were to lose your virginity to anyone you’d want it to be your sweet loving boyfriend. But voices in the back of your head start to make you overthink, wonder if he’ll even want you anymore if you confess to him.
It isn’t until you’re here on his bed, hands tangled in his hair while kiss him slowly, passionately. His hands are roaming all over your body, still careful to be respectful. You’re pushing into him, smiling in between kisses. “Have I ever told you how much of an amazing kisser you are?” He chuckles, peppering kisses along your jawline.
A blissful sigh escapes your lips before you answer, “no.” You shake your head, his lips traveling lower down to your neck. Your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, enjoying the moment. His tongue glides along the skin of your neck, gently sucking and kissing, earning little whimpers from you as a reward. His hand grabs at your leg, hooking in over his waist as he pushes his hips into you.
Your breathing grows shallow, heart beating frantically against your ribcage. You gulp, feeling things grow more intense with each passing second before you push Nanami away. “I’m sorry, Kento, I just—”
“It’s alright, sweetheart. I understand you want to take your time with this kind of thing.” He gently grabs your hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. His brows furrowed as he studies your features, eyes wandering every where else but into his. “What’s wrong, hm? You know you can talk to me,” he says in the most smooth voice, one that makes you wanna spill every secret. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. “Sweetheart?” He draws out the pet name, he knows something is on your mind.
“Ken, I feel bad for keeping this from you for so long, but,” you sigh, fidgeting with the hem of your t-shirt, “I’m a…virgin.” You finally look in his eyes, clenching your jaw. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, ears ringing loudly it almost drowns out your heart beat.
His lips part, eyes widening at your words. Deafening silence falls upon you like a tidal wave and you feel the embarrassment rush in. “Fuck,” you whisper, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything I…I’m just gonna go.” You quickly scramble to your feet, grabbing your sweater from off of his bedroom floor. Maybe those voices in your head were right. Why would a man like Kento want anything to do with an inexperienced girl like you, compared to a woman who would know how to please him, give him a what he wants.
Just as you were about to walk out his bedroom, you feel a tug at your arm pulling you back until you hit his broad chest. “Where are you going?” He asked, looking at you. “I never said to leave, sweetheart.” He walks you back over to the bed, taking your sweater from your hands and placing it on the back of his chair. You sit on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting for the next words to leave his mouth. Eyes follow his every movement, watching the way he walks over to you and kneels down in front you, grabbing your hands in his. “Look at me.” And you do, eventually, meet his gaze. “What’s wrong?”
You find it hard to speak, to even get a peep out. Nerves are shot and it feels like your stomach is twisting in knots. “I just thought that—”
“That I’d be upset you’re a virgin?” He asked, putting it all out there. You nodded your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sweetheart,” he chuckles, flashing a smile at you, “you’re too cute for your own good.” He caresses your cheek. “No wonder you’ve been so nervous each time we’ve made out.” He licks his lips, taking a deep breath in before speaking again, “listen, we don’t have to rush into anything. You should’ve just told me, but I understand your feelings.”
You blink a couple of times, your heart rate finally drops, feeling more comfortable with the situation. It felt like a huge weight was lifted off of your shoulders, and even more importantly, you were glad Nanami took it so well. “But, I am ready.” You look away from him.
“What?” His brows furrowed, confusion written on his face.
“I’ve been ready, just been scared, nervous…I don’t know.” You shrug, your voice getting quieter with each word you say.
His hand comes up to your cheek, gently cupping it as he directs your gaze back towards him for the millionth time. “Are you asking me to be your first?” He asks in such a gentle tone, eyes carrying a look of adoration in them. Sheepishly, you nod.
“Always wanted it to be you, Ken. You’re so kind to me, and so patient,” you admit.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, “I’d love nothing more than to be your first.” He kisses the top of your hand, soft lip pressing against your skin as he stares into your eyes. “We’ll go at your pace, yeah?” He smirks.
Everything in you is telling you to pounce on this man and go at it like animals with how he was treating you. It only made him a hundred more times attractive than he already was. Your lips find his as you both fall back onto the bed, resuming the make out session from minutes ago, only this time it’ll actually lead somewhere. The kisses felt more feverish, more passionate, something that’d you been craving this entire time.
“Can I take your clothes off?” He asked, placing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll take mine off too.”
“Yeah.” You nod, feeling his hands tug at the hem of your shirt. The fabric slipped over your head, your first instinct was to cover your chest, feeling completely vulnerable in this position. His hands carefully undid your pants, pulling them down along with your panties, discarding the items of clothing on the wood floor. You covered yourself up, shutting your legs and holding your chest.
As you watched him get undressed, your eyes landed upon the obvious tent in his shorts, leaving you turned on. His body seemed liked it was carved from the gods, toned biceps, shredded six pack. He looked like he could just easily toss you around, put in whatever position he wanted. Not to mention, you could see how big he was through his boxers, your nerves starting to wrack up again as you began to wonder if it’d even fit. And once he pulled them down, your eyes widened and worry flooded your face.
Nanami let out a light laugh at the look on your face. “What’s the matter?” He asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs.
“Do you think it’ll fit? It’s just…really big, Ken.” Your eyes couldn’t help but wander. He was thick, and slightly long, which is reasonable excuse for your worry.
“It might hurt a little, sweetheart, but that’s why I need to prepare you, yeah? Make it feel good for my sweet girl. Now, don’t hide yourself from me, okay? I wanna see all of you, praise all of you.” He leaned over, kissing your lips again, trailing down further with each one. His hands replaced yours, gently groping your tits, squeezing them in his hands. “Such soft and pretty tits.” He kissed each one. “Can I suck on them? I promise you it’ll feel good.”
Once he gets your approval, he wastes no time, his lips latching onto your hard nipple, hot tongue swirling around the bud. His eyes fluttered shut, a muffled moan escaping his lips. Your hands find themselves in his hair, little pants and whimpers leaving your lips at the foreign sensation. His other hand pulls at your nipple, rolling it between his fingers as he gets lost in thought. He pulls his head up, hazy eyes staring back at you. “Doing okay, baby?” He asks.
“Yes, please keep going.” You bite down on your bottom lip, earning a smile from his as he moves over to your other nipple, tip of his tongue circling over the sensitive skin before taking it in his mouth, suckling on it. “Mmm, Ken,” you whimper, tugging at his hair.
“Feeling good?” He places kisses all over your tits, his touches so gentle. You buck your hips up towards him, grinding against him. “I’ll take that as a yes. You’re feeling needy, aren’t you, baby? Go on, you can tell me.” The flat of his tongue lays against your nipple again, slowly licking, teasing you.
You bring your hand up to your face, covering it, too embarrassed to look at him, to let him hear you. But with each flick of his tongue more whimpers spill out of you, overflowing. His warm lips press kisses to your sternum, traveling down towards your stomach, getting lower and lower until you jolt up. “What…what are you doing?” You ask, dumbly. It was clear what his intentions were with his mouth just inches away from your cunt.
“Just sit back and relax.” He caresses your side. “Open up for me, wanna get a taste,” he murmurs. He gently pushes your thighs open, scooting lower on the bed. His mouth slightly parts, eyes gravitating towards your wet cunt. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re already so wet,” he chuckles, looking up at you. He rests his head against your thighs, lips kissing your skin, worshipping you, savoring you. He plans to tease you as much as possible, he wants you ready.
You body twitches when you feel his fingers ghost over your throbbing cunt, light touches making you yearn for something you’ve never even had before. He kisses down your thighs and towards your pussy, pausing when he finally reaches. He looks up at you for approval and when you scoot your hips closer towards him with the cutest whimper, he dips his head down between your legs and presses the slowest kisses on your clit. The way you gasp makes him smirk, he wonders how you’ll sound when he uses his tongue.
Finally, you feel the flat of his hot tongue dip between your soaked folds, pushing its way up your slit and finding your clit. You sit up on your elbows, brows furrowing in pleasure as Nanami wraps your his arms around your thighs, holding your hips in place. He moans against you, pulling you closer towards him as he starves for more of your taste.
He flicks his tongue across your clit, his chin coated in your juices before he moves his tongue lower, tongue fucking you. You bite down on your plump lower lip, quietly moaning while your eyes watch his every movement, like you were studying him. His tongue slithers back to your clit, circling it before he gently sucks on it. “Hah, fuck,” you gasp, your hand instinctively reaching for his blonde locks of hair.
He lifts his head, licking his lips to not waste any drop of you. “Hey, pretty girl, can we try something?” His voice is gentle, a sense of security in it. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.” The pad of his thumb rubs your clit in circles, his other hand caresses your thigh. “Wanna try fingering you while I eat this pretty pussy, get you ready for me,” he explains.
You gulp, nervously looking down at his hands. “Will it hurt as much?” You ask.
“Might hurt a little, but it’ll help. I’ll make you feel good, baby. I never wanna hurt you.” He sits up, moving closer towards you.
You nod slowly, “okay,” you meekly say. Nanami, wraps his arms around your waist, hoisting your leg around him as you both lay on your sides.
“You ready?” He asks, kissing your cheek, his fingers rubbing your slick over your entrance and back over your clit, trying to get you prepared. “Just gonna do one finger for now until you want more,” he whispers into your ear. Slowly, he slides his thick digit into your entrance and you immediately let out a pained sigh. He removes his finger, pressing another kiss to you cheek. “Take your time, baby. You’re okay. Hold on to me if it gets too much.” He continues rubbing your clit in slow circles until you give him the nod of approval to try again.
He pushes his finger past your folds, feeling your walls clench around him as he goes inch by inch. “Mmm.” Your eyes screw shut as you cling onto his broad shoulders, feeling the sting of the stretch. He finally gets it all the way through and you’re panting, clawing at his skin.
“You’re alright, sweetheart,” he reassures. “Hey, look at me,” he grabs your face in his direction, “it’s okay.” He kisses your lips as you whimper against his. “I’m gonna start moving my hand now.” You hold onto him tighter, the burn making you wince as he pulls his hand back and pushes his finger back in, slightly gaining in speed.
You can’t seem to look away from him, melting into his touch as the pain slowly turned to pleasure, feeling your body accept him just like you wanted this entire time. He presses his forehead against yours, bodies pressed up against one another as you fight back the urge to kiss him until you’re breathless. Your hips rock into his hand, following his movements. “Want more,” you whimper, nodding at him.
“Want more, pretty? Yeah?” He pecks your lips, carefully sliding his ring finger into your entrance. You whine at the stretch, taking in a deep breath when you feel his fingers curl up, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. Your cunt squelches around his fingers, sucking them in. “You’re doing such a good job,” he whispers, working fingers faster until you’re a moaning mess.
Wet kisses make their way down your neck, moving lower down to your chest as he repositions himself at the end up of the bed, fingers still curling inside you. He pushes one of your legs back, eyes intently watching the way your pussy takes his fingers so well. Without warning, the flat of his tongue presses down your swollen clit. “Oh fuck!” You gasp, gripping at the sheets below you. Your body shivers with pleasure, the sensation of his tongue and fingers sending you to cloud nine.
Your head falls back on the pillow, eyes rolling back, legs threatening to close around his head. He slurps your pussy, tongue working its way through your folds to get every last drop. He’s moaning at your taste, breathing heavily through his nose. His hand pushes your leg back farther, nearly up to your chest, as he works hard to drive that orgasm out of you. “Ah! Oh my gosh!” You cry out, clutching at his hair, pushing his head down when he sucks on your sensitive clit once more. “Ken, baby, I think—fuck!” You squeal, rocking your hips on his face. Your legs close around his head as your orgasm arrives, body quivering, and every touch is heightened. That doesn’t stop Nanami, low eyes watching how prettily your back arches off the bed, your walls squeezing his fingers. “Hah! Ah! Yes!” You moan.
Nanami finally lifts his head, chest heaving up and down as he looks at you with the most love in his eyes. “Fuck, baby, you did so good. Come here.” He rushes to plant his lips on yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His dick is throbbing, oozing pre from the tip just from watching you cum. “You alright?” He asks, petting your cheek.
“I’m okay.” You nod. “Thank you.” The sweetest smile spreads across your face, one that makes his chest fill with warmth. “But, I think I’m finally ready.” You look down towards where you two meet, only inches away from one another.
“You sure? We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I want you to be comfortable,” he says softly.
“I promise I am. Just…go slow,” anxiousness riddled your tone.
“Of course. Let me know at any time if you wanna stop.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. The nerves build in your chest, and your stomach fills with butterflies. He repositions his hips, rubbing his length through your folds, smearing his precum. He lightly groans, slowly moving up and down, nudging your clit with each thrust. Nanami notices you watching, he can see you’re still nervous. “Baby, look at me, okay. It’s gonna be fine.” He gently grabs your face, staring into your eyes before his fat tip pushes its way through your folds. Your eyebrows raise in surprise before furrowing. He goes as slow as possible before removing himself, letting you take a breather.
You spread your legs further before another attempt, wrapping your arms around his neck. He pushes into you again, inch by inch you feel the stretch, the stinging sensation making you grit your teeth. “Ah!” You bury your face in his neck, when you feel his hips finally meet with yours.
Tears fall down your cheeks, and he’s quick to kiss them away. “I know it hurts, sweetheart. Let’s stay like this for a minute.” He wipes your tears, massaging your thighs as you try to accustom to his size. “Gonna start moving now.” He pulls his hips back, his length coated in a mix of your juices and slight blood. “Oh, your bleeding baby.” He looks at you with the most empathetic expression.
“Mmmph, sorry, I’m sorry.” A wave of embarrassment washes over you as it came to mind that it was most likely on his sheets.
“There’s nothing to apologize for. It’s completely normal.” He kisses your lips as he pushes his hips against your again, the head of his cock grazing over a sweet spot deep inside you that you didn’t even know existed. “I’m so proud of you, you know that?Hah, my sweet, sweet girl—fuck,” he breathily chuckles. And now he’s moving faster, wrapping your legs around his waist, clinging onto him like you never want to let go. “So fucking tight,” he grunts.
You feel so full of him, like he was made for you. His dick dragging along your walls, his hands holding you close, wrapping around you as he whispers praises in your ear in the most sweetest voice. Your eyes roll back, nails leaving marks on his skin, your toes pointed. He’s fucking you into the mattress, but being oh so gentle about it. “It feels so good,” you mewl as he fucks you deep, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.
“This pussy was made for me baby—oh shit—taking me so fucking well. You feel so fucking good,” he moans. He presses into you, each thrust sending your mind spiraling as shivers run down your spine, your body covered in sweat. Nanami squeezes you tightly, kissing your neck, and nibbling at the skin.
“Ah! Ah! Ah!” It feels like your breath is being sucked out of you, your heart beating rapidly against your ribcage. “Gonna cum!” You cry out. “Hah—yes, yes!” He keeps the same rhythm, tip of his dick kissing your cervix before your shaking under him.
He holds you tightly, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as you cum around his dick. Your hands cup his face, searching his eyes. “That’s my girl, let it all out,” he says. He can feel you clenching down on him, the feeling making his dick throb harder. “Always be my good girl, right baby?” He asks. And all you can do is nod, when he starts fucking you faster, almost like he’s grown feral. “It’s good that you know because I’m about to fuck you like you aren’t.” He pushes your knees to your chest, lifting your hips slightly so that he reaches the deepest parts of you. “Nngh, fuck!” He grunts.
“Ken! Oh fuck, fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, the bed rocking and creaking with each other his hard thrusts. A hand clasps over your mouth in a weak attempt to muffle your screams of pleasure.
“Pussy feels so good, sweetheart. Can’t get enough—fuck—I’m sorry,” he heavily pants. Strands of blonde hair cling to his forehead, eyes fixated on watching his dick disappears in and out of you, your pussy creaming around him, leaving a white ring around the base. He can feel you clenching down on him again, your nails leaving crescent marks in his forearms as you’re cumming for a third time tonight, barely able to form words. “Atta girl. Look so pretty cumming on my cock,” he smirks.
Your back arches into him, legs quivering as he thrusts grow sloppier and sloppier. “Nnngh, shit,” he moans. “Gonna make me cum—ah!” His brows furrow as he fucks you harder, a primal feeling rises in him as he thinks of cumming inside of you for the first time ever. “Baby,” he says with desperation, “baby, let me cum inside you.” A rosy red spreads across his cheeks as he stares into your eyes.
Your arms reach out to him, dragging him down for kiss, legs locking around his waist as you push him closer to you. Nanami groans into the kiss and you swallow every last one as his seed fills you up, coating your walls. He slowly fucks you, making sure to get every last drop of his cum in you before pulling out.
“Oh my god, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a glint in his eyes. You laugh with him before he rolls both of you over, you now on top of him. He caresses your cheek and you melt into his hand, a blissful sigh leaving your lips. “You did absolutely amazing.” He smiles. “You doing okay, though?” He wonders, fingertips tracing patters on the small of your back.
“Yeah,” you nod, closing your eyes shut, “I’m doing great actually.” You smile. You rest your head on his chest. “Thank you, Ken.”
“No, thank you. I’m glad that you trusted me to be your first, honestly. It means a lot to me.” He kisses the crown of your head. “You’ll always be my girl.” He continues tracing your skin.
“Really?” You ask, lifting your head to look at him. “Promise me?” You pout, batting your lashes.
“I promise.” A smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his thumb rubbing over your bottom lips before you press a kiss to it. He chuckles at the small gesture. “Let’s get in the shower, together, yeah? Maybe order some food? You deserve it.”
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whateveriwant · 3 months
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Actually I'm not done talking about Mr. Simon Fucks-Himself-Stupid Riley just yet :(
I'm picturing a scenario where you, a civilian, are visiting your boyfriend at his base. Maybe you're there to deliver something, like a file he forgot at home or the lunch he said he didn't need. Either way, whatever your cover story for being there is, the end result is the same: you, on your back, knees up by your ears, sprawled across Simon's desk as he fucks you like his life depends on it.
Being a Lieutenant grants him the luxury of having a private office where he can engage in such extracurriculars, but that doesn't mean it's without some major risks – namely, prying ears that might be lurking in the hallway outside.
But being discreet shouldn't be an issue, should it? I mean, a man known infamously as “Ghost” should have no problem staying quiet, right?
Wrong.
Turns out, not only does that tight hole of yours reduce your boyfriend to a dumb, drooling mess, it makes him a dumb, drooling mess who can't keep his fucking mouth shut.
So while you have the wherewithal to clamp a hand over your lips to try muffling your lewd noises, Simon is out here moaning and groaning unabashedly like something sent forward in time from the Paleolithic. You could try asking him to cover his mouth, but it seems an impossible task; his hands are a little preoccupied with making sure he doesn't fuck you right over the edge of his desk.
While you don't want to stop, you also don't want to get caught, so you settle for urging him to keep it down. It's after a third softly gasped ‘N-Need to be qu-quiet, Si’ that your warning finally worms its way into his brain, and he acts in a way to appease you, just… not how you expect.
Swiftly, Simon removes his hold of your waist and brings one of his arms forward. He grabs for the center of his t-shirt, tugs the material up, and quickly stuffs the fabric into his mouth.
It only takes a split second for the action to happen, but immediately, you see how effective it is. The moment that standard, army-issued tee is captured between Simon's teeth, there's a drastic reduction of noise in the room.
Now, he can fuck into you with reckless abandon, and he snaps his hips forward with enough force to make your whole body ripple. Even as you pulse and constrict around him (sometimes inadvertently, sometimes not), the sounds that climb their way up Simon's throat are heavily dampened by his cotton gag.
It's as Simon begins the ascent to his peak that the cloth in his mouth really comes into play. As he pumps into you, he starts grunting lowly, gutturally, exhaling through his nostrils in quick, harsh bursts. It's a deep sound, animalistic in nature, like a bull huffing before it digs its heels into the dirt and charges.
His thrusts turn sloppier and sloppier the closer he nears his high, his hips propelled forward only by some basic hindbrain instinct. His lashes start to flutter, his eyes roll towards the back of their sockets, and when he cums, he throws his head back in a full-blown snarl.
Simon's a bit shaky on his feet after he climaxes in you, but he manages to pull out before he stumbles backwards, plopping down heavily into his chair. As you start cleaning yourself up, you see how he makes no attempt to move. He just sits there, completely brainless, pants around his ankles and t-shirt still tucked between his teeth. You have to walk over to him and purposefully tug on the shirt to get him to release it, and once it's freed, you see the damage that's been done.
In the center of Simon's shirt rests a big, blotchy wet spot, like he's tried to do his own slobbery take on the classic Rorschach test. The fabric's been wrinkled to all hell and there's a few imprints left behind from where his teeth had bitten down, and if you were to inspect the hem closely, you'd see where he popped a stitch or two in his ecstasy.
The sight of his mangled shirt has you tutting in disapproval. He can't walk out of his office looking like this, and he certainly can't forgo wearing a shirt altogether. What would the people around base say if they saw their normally put together Lieutenant looking so unkempt? You don't think he'd ever hear the end of it, nor would you for that matter.
In the meantime, as you wait for Simon's brains to un-liquify themselves, maybe you can scrounge up something else for him to wear. There's got to be something lying around here to help make him presentable once again. It's too bad as part of your cover you didn't think to bring an extra set of clothes to change into.
You'll have to remember for next time.
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shotmrmiller · 7 months
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another thing i had in mind for ex husband simon was that this time you're more resistant. no touching, no nicknames that make you weak-kneed, nothing. divorce means divorce, and the wedge that split the two of you up would probably still be there.
fine by simon, he follows the rules to a T. hands to himself, polite greetings and only talks about the children. maybe for a birthday for the boys, he takes the family shopping for gifts since it's a tuesday and there won't be any party or whatever and when y'all come back home, the lights are on.
they'd been off when y'all left. simon quickly opens the middle console and pulls out his weapon and tells you to get in the drivers seat. should anything come running out, pedal to the metal.
a little bit of time passes, you're about to be driven crazy with anxiety but simon finally comes out, except he's empty handed.
comes to the side and opens the driver door. "whoever was in there is gone. probably hopped the back fence. i've already called the guys."
you're a sobbing mess because how dare someone come into your home? your sanctuary? what if-
and you come to a startling realization. what if you and the boys had been here? alone?
simon's looking down at his phone, and furrows his brows. "i gotta go get-" but you don't let him finish, trembling fingers grabbing the front of his shirt. "you cant leave us here. don't leave me alone. don't- just please. stay."
you're too upset to resist his embrace or correct him when he calls you sweetheart. the guys get there eventually, price and gaz waste no time in sweeping the area and you, accompanied by simon, tuck the kids to bed.
price calls it later, that the place seems to be clear. nothing really taken nor left behind. they all leave, johnny and kyle deciding to stay overnight across the street their car and simon also turns to bid you goodnight, except you don't let him.
you practically beg him to stay, that you won't feel safe without him here. the couch won't do because he's too far away, what if whoever that was comes in through the bedroom windows.
you seek comfort in him and in the dead of night, he whispers promises into your ear as he slides home. promises to keep you safe, to keep the kids safe. that he'd let nothing ever happened to you, not while he still lived and breathed.
when you're finally dozing, with his spend drying in between your legs, he grabs his phone and texts johnny that it's done, they can go home now.
johnny responds in seconds, telling him that he tore his very nice jeans jumping that rough hewn fence of theirs and that simon owes him a new pair.
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suguann · 4 months
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LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.
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✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+
tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink
featuring. gojo, nanami, geto
masterlist
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↬ GOJO
He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.
The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.
“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 
“They’re pretty, baby.”
Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”
“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”
His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 
Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.
He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.
Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.
Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 
Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.
A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”
He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 
“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”
Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 
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↬ GETO
It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 
The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 
Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—
A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 
You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 
“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 
Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 
You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 
“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”
“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.
“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 
Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 
“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.
He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.
“Why’d you—”
“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”
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↬ NANAMI
After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 
It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 
You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.
“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 
He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 
You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 
“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.
He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”
A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”
(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)
“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”
“B-but—”
Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 
Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 
His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."
It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.
“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 
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ghostsgrl666 · 4 months
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Mild dub-con/non-con, somno, simon is larger than reader
roommate!ghost who tucks you into your bed and sits on the edge of it for what feels like forever debating whether he should stay. You came home pretty drunk and he knew if he went back to his own room he would not get a wink of sleep worrying about all the things that could happen if he wasn't right there to protect you. He ends up convincing himself that he needs to watch you, at least, but somehow he ends up right next to you. Under the covers with his head facing yours to hear the steady sound of your breath. It's not his fault when the next moment he wakes up with you in his arms, his wide palm on your lower back under your scruched up t-shirt. His other arm locked in place by both your hands gripping tight around his wrist, fingers not even touching. The sight of it does something to him, sparks a heat deep in his stomach that suddenly makes his hips feel far too close to yours. It gets even worse when a line appears between your brows, a bad dream playing across your face in a way that makes him want to lick the crease away.
Your breathing gets heavier and Simon starts to actually question whether he died last night and went to heaven because just as he tries to untangle his legs from yours he accidentally presses himself against you, making you let out the cutest fucking whimper. It's the best sound he's heard in his entire life, and he freezes as he realizes how fucked he is.
Against the bulk of his hips you tense your legs around him, memories of the night before turned to pure, molten want as you start to grind against him over the straining fabric of his boxers.
That's what finally wakes you, he thinks, the way his hand finds your waist and fucking squeezes as he tries not to lose all control.
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usmsgutterson · 1 year
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one thing about me is that, if I have an OC who serves as a protag, their birthday will always fall within the window of the final three months of the year or the first three months of it. 
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sluttywoozi · 12 days
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(Boy)Friend Material | Part I of II | csc x f!reader
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You'd think that, having matched with Seungcheol on a dating app, you would be, well, dating. You suppose you're lucky, but not that lucky.
Rating: sfw (this part) | WC: ~3k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: emotional fluff, friends/idiots to lovers
Warnings: suggestive thoughts, down bad reader, implied alcohol drinking, kissing
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Matching with Seungcheol on Bumble was a fluke, or maybe a miracle, considering the fact that you re-downloaded the app on a whim and his profile was the first to come up. 
The second you saw him in that blue baseball cap and white tee, his jawline sharp and his bicep thick, you knew there was no point in trying to find anyone better. So you conferred with the group chat to crowdsource a good opening line, something about how his birthday should be a national holiday, and awaited his response with bated breath. 
He replied within minutes, saying that he’d always thought so but was intrigued as to why you did too, and you, ignoring your friends’ advice to play it cool, told him that he was obviously a gift to the masses to get them through these troubling times. He got bashful then, but apparently you didn’t come on too strong in a bad way, because the next thing you knew he was asking for your number and requesting to meet up for some coffee. 
That was four months ago, and though it never went further in a romantic sense, you know you’re lucky to have him as a friend. Unfortunately, the thoughts you have about Seungcheol aren’t the kind you’re supposed to have about a friend. 
You wish you could say you haven’t always wondered what those plush lips would feel like on yours, or if he’d be big enough to stretch you out, or whether he’d take you gently or pin you down and fuck you like he means it, but you’ve wanted Seungcheol ever since you first locked eyes with him, even if it was just through your phone screen.
It would be one thing if you only wanted to sleep with him, but it’s a million times worse because you want to love him too. You want to hold hands, and go on cute dates, and get him little gifts just to see his eyes light up. You want to fall asleep in his arms, and take care of him when he’s sick, and tell anyone who will listen that he’s your boyfriend. 
How could you want anything less when he looks like all of your dreams come to life? When he gazes at you with those big brown eyes, always listening so attentively, as if you’re the only one in his world that matters? When he takes care of you without thinking, like it’s just second nature?
Even at a house party like this, where there are plenty of girls eyeing him and more than a few of his bros wanting to talk to him, he’s by your side. The second your shoulders twitched in a shiver, his jacket was covering them. As soon as your cup was empty, he was accompanying you to the kitchen to refill it. And you know that when you give even a hint of wanting to leave, he’ll be guiding you to his car and taking you home, perfectly sober because he volunteered to be the designated driver tonight just so you could have fun and be safe. 
If only you could tell him to take you back to his place instead of yours. The problem is that he would, and he’d take your makeup off all gently, and give you a big t-shirt to sleep in, and tuck you into his bed before going to sleep on the couch, even though it hurts his back and his feet dangle off the edge. You know because that’s exactly what he did the time you managed to scrape together enough courage to ask if you could stay over after a night out. 
You can’t have a repeat of that, not when you woke up wishing you were his (after dreaming that he’d fucked you into his mattress). You barely kept yourself from begging him to make your dreams a reality that morning, especially when he greeted you with bedhead, a gravelly voice, and your favorite pastries from the bakery down the street. 
It took you weeks to get over it, to be able to look into his eyes without wanting to either confess your love or jump his bones. And still, almost two months later, you’re pushing down both of those desires. Holding your feelings back when you’re with him is a constant struggle, one that’s only made more difficult by his affectionate and protective nature. It’s becoming painful, knowing he likes you but not in the way that you like him, being so close to him but never as close as you want. 
Near Seungcheol is your favorite place to be, but you’re starting to think it’s not somewhere that’s good for you, which is distressing because at this point, he’s one of your best friends. You see him nearly every week for meals and little excursions, and you’d go for every day if you didn’t have to keep him from your other friends lest they give away your secret. You don’t know how you’d cope with not being around him, but you can only assume it wouldn’t be well when he’s so enmeshed in your life, even your landlord knows about him.
God, you cancel one maintenance call after Seungcheol fixes your leaky faucet and Jerry thinks every other repair request is bullshit…
You startle as Seungcheol leans in close to ask you something, though you’re too distracted by the weight of his hand on your waist to process his question. It’s warm even through the cotton of your shirt and the denim of his jacket, and he must think it’s too loud for you to hear him because he uses it to tug you closer as he asks again, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, I think I’m just ready to go,” you respond weakly, forcing a smile that must look as fake as it feels. Knowing you’re not telling the truth about the first part, he frowns reproachfully at you and lets go of your waist to intertwine your fingers with his, pulling you behind him to the front door. There’s a chill in the air though it’s barely September, and he drops your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, syncing his steps to yours and holding you tight.
It’s a short walk but the quiet tension makes it feel like eons have passed by the time you arrive at his sedan. He opens the passenger-side door for you and takes your bag so you can climb in unhindered, gently placing it at your feet before patting your knee and shutting you in. You watch as he jogs around the hood and gets in next to you, taking care not to slam his door. You wonder if it’s because the first (and only) time he did on a night like this, you thought he was upset with you for wanting to leave early. 
He was so sweet and concerned when you brought it up, instantly rejecting your offer to uber home so he could go back to the party as if he was offended you even asked, before telling you that there was no point in staying if he didn’t have you with him. That was just one of the many moments that have ruined you for anyone else. 
“What’s on your mind?” Seungcheol asks quietly, turning his body toward you and reaching for your hand. Unsure of what to say, you give it to him silently and fight back a shudder at the feeling of his warm, rough fingers against yours. 
You hate lying to Seungcheol, partially because you always want to be honest with him but mostly because you’re so bad at doing the opposite. He picks up on it immediately, and then he gets this sorrowful, wounded look on his face and goes all quiet, which makes you feel like you’re the worst person on the planet. 
How honest can you be, though?
You could leave out the part about wanting him to fuck your brains out and lead with the non-platonic feelings you hold for him. Or you could leave out the emotional side of things and simply share that you want to ride him into the sunset. Or you could tell him everything, bare your soul and your pussy, and hope for the best. But what if the worst happens? What if he tells you he could never want you like that, that you’re like a sister to him, that he doesn’t want to see you ever again because you’ve ruined this friendship? 
You don’t think you can risk it. 
Still, you’d like to avoid deceiving him and hurting his feelings in the process, so maybe you could just be vague instead. 
“A lot of things, but nothing I want to talk about right now,” you finally answer, avoiding his eyes and pushing down the voice in the back of your mind that screams you’re a coward.
His mouth scrunches to the side and his brows furrow, but after a minute of silence, he accepts it. 
“Okay, just… You know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowers his head to find your gaze, sincerity emanating so brightly from him, it burns. 
Anything but this.
“I know,” you whisper, attempting a smile to appease him, though the way he sighs defeatedly and looks away makes you feel like you’ve just made him worry more. 
Facing the wheel again, he turns the key in the ignition and carefully reverses just enough to pull forward out of his makeshift parking spot. The music coming through his speakers is soft and low, too quiet to really fill the silence sitting between you and him, silence that isn’t usually there. You don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything at all, your body thrumming with a nervous energy that you’re sure Seungcheol can feel. 
Glancing over, you find his hands tight on the steering wheel and his lip caught in between his teeth. You hate the idea that your anxiety has seeped into him, but he’s always seemed to think your happiness is his personal responsibility, so you suppose it makes sense. 
“Are you taking the long way?” You ask in confusion when you face forward again and watch the on ramp to the highway pass you by. 
“Yeah, I hope that’s okay… Just wanted a bit more time with you,” he murmurs with a melancholy tinge to his voice. 
“Of course that’s okay, I love being with you.” Shit, you wanted to make him feel better but you didn’t mean to sound so-
“Do you?” 
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you never…” He looks over at you and shakes his head, taking a deep breath before continuing to speak. “I know we’re taking things slow but I feel like you’re always holding part of yourself back from me. You never touch me, I’m always the one touching you. I make the majority of our plans. All my friends know you but I don’t know any of your friends,” he sighs in frustration and pulls over into an empty parking lot, putting the car in park. “And now tonight you don’t feel like you can tell me what’s wrong… I just- If you want to break things off, please just say so.”
When he finishes, he gazes at you, dejection swimming in his eyes like you’re breaking his heart. 
In your mind, you repeat the words that stand out to you as if they’re new arrangements of letters with meanings you’ve never encountered before.
T a k i n g  t h i n g s  s l o w.
B r e a k  t h i n g s  o f f.
What  t h i n g s?
“Seungcheol… Please don’t get upset, but I think we might not be on the same page,” you say slowly. “What are we? Because I was under the impression we were-”
“Friends,” you finish just as he responds, like it should be obvious, “Together.”
“You think we’re just friends?! We met on a dating app,” he bursts in a barely contained explosion. 
“You’re so hot, and sure, we went on that one coffee date, but we never went on any others-” You scramble to explain your reasoning. 
“We’ve gone on at least three dates a month since we met! Did you think we were just hanging out?” 
“...Yes?” 
“I plan them, I dress nicely, I pick you up, I pay,” he lists off on his fingers, clearly growing heated. 
“Okay, so maybe those were dates! But we don’t kiss, or have sleepovers, or talk to each other about our feelings,” you attempt to defend yourself. 
“I was trying to follow your lead,” he grimaces regretfully and pinches the bridge of his nose. “God, could I have been kissing you this whole time?” 
“You could have been doing a lot more than kissing me,” you laugh to yourself, thinking about all the wishes and desires you’ve had since you first laid eyes on him. Then you see his face, and it doesn’t really feel funny anymore. 
He looks equal parts irate and amorous, that strong brow furrowed in displeasure though his gaze is greedy, like he’s had enough of you but at the same time, he could never get enough of you. 
“Alright, since I apparently need to lay it all out, here’s what we’re gonna do,” he turns to face you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You barely resist the urge to lean into it before realizing you don’t have to resist anything anymore when it comes to Seungcheol, your hand coming up to cover his and hold it to your face. 
His eyes soften at that, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as he says, “First, we’re going to talk about our feelings and get on the same page. Then, I’m taking you to your place to pack an overnight bag and to mine for a sleepover, and this time I’m not staying on that goddamn couch. It’ll take a while to make up for four months of not kissing you, but we can start with tonight. Does that all sound good to you?”
“Everything sounds great,” you breathe dreamily, already envisioning being on your back beneath him with those perfect cherry lips on yours. 
“Fuck, don’t look at me like that,” he groans, his head falling sideways against the headrest. “We have to talk first.”
“Are you telling me or yourself?” You ask teasingly, giggling when he squeezes his eyes shut and swears under his breath. 
“Both,” he sighs out before saying nervously, “I’ll start, because I’m a good boyfriend.”
You have to swallow down the squeal that threatens to burst from you just at the thought of Seungcheol being your boyfriend. 
“I’ve been into you since I met you,” he begins. “You make me laugh, you make my heart race, and you make me want you, all the damn time. The past four months have been the best of my life. You’re smart and beautiful and special and I want to be with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
Hearing Seungcheol say these things sends a rush of pure joy through you, followed by a flood of affection. He’s all you’ve wanted for four months, and now you know he likes you. And wants to be with you. It’s almost too much for you to handle… Almost. 
“Seungcheol, as soon as I saw you on that god-forsaken app, I knew I could stop looking. You’re funny and kind and thoughtful and devastatingly good looking, and I liked you so much that I tried to be happy just being your friend, but I always wanted more. I think it’s because I was so blinded by my crush on you that I didn’t realize we were more. We are more. Hopefully, you’re okay being with me for a long time, because I don’t know if I’ll ever want to let you go.”
He gazes at you, his face soft and his eyes earnest, adoring. “That’s fine with me,” he murmurs, leaning in. “Can I kiss you?”
“I literally thought you’d never ask,” you whisper, inching forward and holding your breath until his lips finally meet yours. 
They feel supple, lush, just like you knew they would, and he kisses you with a gentleness you didn’t expect. After four months of waiting, you thought he’d be impatient, rough, but he’s moving like he has all the time in the world, like you’re something worth savoring. He pulls away reluctantly, but you’re not done yet, your chin tilting so you can press your lips to his again. 
He sighs against you and you glide your tongue over his bottom lip, gasping when he opens his mouth to lick into yours. His hand shifts to cup your neck, tilting your head so he can kiss you at a different angle, and that’s when the moan slips out. 
It’s quiet, but obvious in the silence of the car, and you pause self consciously for a second before he brushes his thumb over your jaw and moans back. The sound is so hot that you’re inches away from unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console into his lap, your mind already wrapped up in thoughts of feeling his thick, sturdy thighs under you. He doesn’t let you get that far, breaking away with a gasp and staring at you heatedly, as if he can hear your thoughts. 
“I want too much from you for our first time to be in my car,” he pants raggedly, fighting to catch his breath after you attempted to steal it from him. 
“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” you acquiesce, watching as he shifts into drive and makes his way out of the parking lot. When he’s on the road again, he rests his palm on your thigh with a glance and a raise of his brow, as if to ask if his placement is okay. You just smile and intertwine your fingers with his, trying to shove down the giddiness bubbling up within you as you get closer and closer to your apartment.
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AN: there was a natural separation between scenes so i decided to make this a two parter!! smutty part two will be posted sometime this weekend (hopefully)
please i am begging u to tell me ur thoughts and ur thots i am deep in seungcheol brainrot and i need to commiserate
edited to add: drop a comment to join the taglist!
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nanaslutt · 9 months
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The JJK men’s fav cuddling postitions <3
incl: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Sukuna, Toji, Megumi, Yuuji, Yuta
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cont: fluff :3, suggestive on Toji’s
note: i think this is my first full fluff fic…lol
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
Gojo:
I know Gojo absolutely loves every position he can get you both into where you are physically as close as possible. Gojo's infinity is on automatically most of the time, the only touch he receives being from his students occasionally or from you. So when the time comes around for Gojo to be cuddled up with you, he needs to make sure every part of his body is touching some part of you.
I can see him being a fan of face-to-face cuddling, your limbs intertwined with one another, either his or your face pressed into the other's chest, your soft breathing tickling the skin of the other. Maybe something like the 'attack of the sloth' sleeping position. You on your back, Gojo's arms and legs wrapped around yours, leaving you completely enabled, his weight crushing you when you sleep; but you never complain.. well.. sometimes you do, Gojo's body is like a furnace.
Sometimes though, Gojo wants you to spoon him from behind. Of course, he loves it the other way around but theres just something so comforting about your small frame wrapped around his back. He feels so safe in your arms like this. He gets the same feeling one would when they were a kid, afraid of what was lurking in the dark, but the moment they pulled the blanket over their head, they were safe. Gojo felt untouchable, even more so than when he had his infinity on.
Geto:
A classic man, a simple man, a man of taste. I can see Geto loving the pretzel position. Him lying on his back, his toned arm above his head while his other wraps around your frame resting against him. His leg closest to you is bent, enabling you to interlace your leg with his, the appendage thrown over his thigh. He relishes in the feeling of your arm wrapped around his midsection, feeling safe and secure when you tuck you curl your fingers into his t-shirt on the side of his body.
He loves this position because he loves how close to you he feels, he also likes to see the size difference between the two of you when you're scooted down, your head on his chest. Another plus is he can scratch your back gently this way. His hands always find their way under your shirt, gently tickling and scratching the skin of your back, shoulders, and waist. He adores hearing you hum softly into his chest in approval at the relaxing caress.
You love this position for a variety of reasons as well. With your head on his chest, directly placed over his heart, you have free, unlimited access to the soothing rhythm of his softly beating heart, never failing to lull you into a peaceful sleep. You yourself were also guilty of slipping your hand under his shirt to feel up his abs. Running your fingers over the strong indents, counting them carefully in your head over and over, was the same to you as counting sheep. His skin was always so soft and warm, how could you resist?
Nanami:
Nanami's go-to is having you lay fully atop him, your head on the center of his chest, your bodies resting against one another while he strokes your hair. softly running his hands along your head, raking his fingers on the back of your neck, massaging your head, the whole nine yards. Nanami doesn't stop until he hears you lightly snoring on top of him.
Another thing about Nanami--if you drool or snore in your sleep, Nanami thinks it's the cutest thing in the world. You're always so embarrassed when you wake up and see the wet patch on his shirt after you had a particularly deep sleep, but Nanami finds it endearing; it means you felt safe with him, your body fully relaxing and letting go in his presence.
Another favorite is good ol' spooning. Nanami loves to be the big spoon. With both of your jobs as Jujutsu sourcerers, comes harrowing losses and injuries one cannot prevent, no matter how hard they try. So when Nanami gets the opportunity to completely encase your body in his strong, protective arms, it eases his nerves. He is constantly worrying about you, but in this moment he knows, nothing will touch you, nothing will get past his loving embrace.
This position gives Nanami unlimited access to the back of your neck. His lips instantly connecting with the soft skin, pressing soft kisses to the skin there, peppering down your shoulders, his fingers moving your nightshirt out of the way to touch your skin directly--god he loved kissing you. Your skin was so sweet and warm, how was he not supposed to kiss it? It was right in front of him after all.
Choso:
I have said this about Choso countless times, but he is a titty man.. so of course he's going to lay his head on top of your chest. He loves to feel the softness of your breasts agaisnt his cheek--if you have bigger breasts, you better bet he will lay face down and squish your tits around his face, holding his breath while he presses the fat against him, relishing in the feeling of your soft tits on his face.
His hands are without a doubt, on your chest as well. His large, warm hands engulf your tits in his grip, unconsciously feeling you up in his slumber, making you smile and laugh to yourself. He also loves wrapping his arms fully around your body too. The curse nuzzles his head against your chest while he slides his hands under the small of your back, his hands tickling the sides of your waist and back softly with the little mobility he has like this.
He has never felt love like this before, so when he feels your hands wrap around his back like it's the most natural thing in the world, it has his face heating up, a deep crimson blush spreading across his face while you rub his back, your nails raking over his back, over or under the thin material of his shirt. No matter how often the two of you cuddle together like this, he never fails to mumble how much he loves you into your chest, occasionally raising his head to look at you with a pout, still embarrassed even after all the time you spend together.
When you lean forward to press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers caressing his cheek before he drops his head back down to your chest to welcome the embrace of your arms around his body, he swears he's the luckiest man in the world.
Sukuna:
Your wrists and ankles are bound in chains while you sleep at the feet of his throne completely naked. <3
Toji:
I can see Toji being a fan of the 'pretzel' as well, same as Suguru. He gets a little more handsy most times, the hand he has wrapped around your back will creep down to the waistline of your night shorts. His thick fingers slip underneath the waistband, sliding under the band of your underwear as well as he grips as handful of your ass, massaging the fat in his hand, squeezing and rubbing it with his fingers.
At first, he did it as a way to tease you, and it worked, you always lifted your head to give him a stern look while he continued to massage the skin. Over time though, It became a comfort thing for the both of you. Whenever you're tired but Toji isn't, he'll turn down the volume of the TV in your shared bedroom and let you get comfortable on his chest, your ear resting where his arm and torso meet. He slides his arm around your frame, smiling to himself when you nuzzle and cozy up to him, his hand sliding down your back, rubbing up and down a couple times while you get situated.
When you get yourself to your desired position, throwing your leg over his hip; which meets his hand as he grabs it and pulls you over his pelvis more, caressing the side of your thigh soothingly; he slides his fingers into your underwear and stares groping you, his warm hands bringing you instant comfort, and familiarity. He'll continue to absentmindedly feel you up while he watches his show, his eyes occasionally darting down to look at you with softness in his eyes before he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head, drifting off soon after, leaving the TV running all night, as usual.
Megumi:
I imagine Megumi being super touchy with his significant other in private once he gets comfortable with you, but I still see him being a little awkward and shy about cuddling with you. It's so intimate after all. The two of you probably started with you lying on his chest with your hand resting on his tummy, you would have to make the first move because Megumi would rather die than initiate something like that at first, no matter how badly his body was itching to feel your warmth against him.
His body would go completely rigid when you laid on him out of nowhere. Megumi would hold his breath, not daring to move even in inches in fear you would move off of him. The weight of your head and your hand that was softly rubbing his tummy felt so comforting, although it did make goosebumps rise all over his body in shock. You would have to tip your head down to avoid him seeing your smile from hearing his heartbeat race out of his chest, the organ taking a significant amount of time before he gets used to your embrace, the rhythm slowing.
After a while of being together and countless cuddling sessions, I can see Megumi being more confident in initiating cuddle sessions when the two of you are watching TV or getting ready to go to sleep. His favorite positions are all of you cuddling him. You spooning him, him lying on your chest while his legs intertwine with yours--any position where your hands are wrapped around him and constantly caressing him in some way he is a huge fan of.
He also loves listening to your heartbeat. He didnt understand how you were always so calm, the soft lulling rhythm never failing to take him away to dreamland. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time you even smiled at him, but that was one of the things he loved about you--someone had to initiate the intimacy in the relationship and it sure as hell wasn't going to be him. If you weren't so forward, it probably would've taken him a year to even hold your hand on his own, so he was grateful you were more forward and verbal with what you wanted, because internally, he wanted the same as you, it just took a little coaxing to get him there.
Yuuij:
Yuuji has no preference! He loves each and every position, he just loves to cuddle with you. If he could always be touching you in some way, he would, and he sure as hell tries. You want to lay on his chest while he rubs your back? done. You want to spoon his large frame and wrap your leg over his waist while his fingers tickle your calf? done. Yuuji is ready for each and every cuddle position you propose to him, and he is not afraid in the slightest to initiate the cuddle sessions either.
I think Yuuji would find great joy in lifting your shirt up and crawling inside as much as his body could fit. His head resting on the soft skin of your tummy while your shirt blocks out most of the light emanating from the TV. "It feels like I'm a baby again." He would say, holding your hips in his hands on the outside of your shirt, his fingers tickling unconsciously along your sides, making you giggle.
I think Yuuji would really like coming home exhausted from training to sit in your lap and lay his head on your shoulder, his back arching slightly from the height difference between the two of you. He would hum into the crook of your neck while you stroked his back, raking your nails along him. He would smile to himself and close his eyes when you lift his shirt, scratching his warm skin directly while he falls asleep on your lap for a midday nap.
He was quite heavy and you're unable to breathe very well while he sleeps, but luckily he never naps long, and you do admit his weight crushing you felt weirdly nice, along with the ticklish puffs of his breath against your neck--it makes you feel close to him.
Yuta:
Yuta is a big baby. He handles enough in the Jujutsu world, trying to keep up his tough, strong persona while fighting, all he really wants when he comes to you is to relax completely in your embrace. Another man who loves it when you cuddle him from behind. He loves feeling your leg wrap over his waist, he knows he's not small, but he loves to feel like it sometimes, it's comforting.
One of his favorite positions to cuddle with you during the day is his head on your tummy/pelvis, his hands stroking along the length of your waist while you tangle your hands in his hair, running your nails over his sensitive scalp, down the back of his neck, reaching as much of his back as you can. It lulls him right to sleep, and he loves it. I think Yuta would struggle with falling asleep/sleeping through the night from insomnia, but when you're touching him, your warm embrace engulfing his body, he almost forgets about all the sleepless nights he spent without you by his side.
I can also see him loving to cuddle while facing you. Your head in his chest while he wraps his arms around you, and you likewise. Your legs tangled together, your bodies pressed as close as possible. During the summertime, this position is not the most comfortable because of the heat and the somehow awful AC Jujutsu high has. So during the colder months, the two of you constantly find yourselves in this position. He keeps his hand pressed snugly to the back of your neck, making sure your forehead stays pressed to his neck at all times.
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sailorrhansol · 2 months
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Amnesia | c.sc (m)
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❀ Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f. reader
❀ Summary: Choi Seungcheol has never been the type to commit to relationships - casual is more his thing. You’re fine with that - except you and Seungcheol seem to be terrible at casual when it comes to one another. 
❀ Word Count: 11,920
❀ Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers 
❀ Type: Smut, Angst if you squint 
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Recreational drinking, mild jealousy from both reader and Cheol, themes of self doubt/relationship doubt, light depictions of anxiety regarding ambiguous relationships, explicit language, Cheol and reader are both idiots, explicit sexual content including oral (f. and m. receiving), vaginal fingering, nipple stim, breath play if you squint, unprotected vaginal sex, a lot of bodily fluids like spit and cum, multiple smut scenes, hair pulling, light spanking, sub-space adjacent feelings, being a lil silly goofy during sex sometimes, stupid ass nicknames at the end because I’m a millennial and I’m cringe sometimes. 
❀ A/N: This was absolutely not what I originally imagined when I wrote this fic - it was supposed to be angsty and frustrating and a lot of back and forth and instead I wrote two fucking idiots who obviously like one another just being down bad. I don’t know how or why I got here, but here we are. Also - Jeongcheol coming out with billiards content after I posted the teaser for this is fucking sENDING me, thank you for making Pool Shark Seungcheol canon. 
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
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DAY ONE
You’re a goner as soon as you lay eyes on him. You know it before Jeonghan properly introduces you, shouting over the rock music that is blaring in the dive bar you like to hang out at on Friday nights. The neon from the sign creates a blue silhouette around Seungcheol as he smiles and holds a hand out to you. You can barely pull yourself together to shake his hand - warm, firm - too busy staring at his face. 
Choi Seungcheol is what your best friend Vin likes to call pretty motherfuckin handsome. He’s got dark, warm eyes that light up playfully when they meet yours, full lips the color of crushed rose petals, a square, firm jawline and silky dark hair that falls in his eyes when he tilts his face down to hide a smile at something Jeonghan says. 
Crushed against the wall of the booth, you feel the cold glass of your beer warm against your palms as you steal glances at Seungcheol. He’s directly across from you, angling his broad shoulders to fit snug into the corner of the booth, lounging backward as he observes the argument brewing between Joshua and Jeonghan. 
He even dresses well. Fitted t-shirt paired with light wash jeans and boots, a fancy watch reflecting the burning neon on the wall next to him, delicate chain necklaces tucked into the collar of his shirt. 
It’s the way he wears them that speaks to you, though. 
“Do they do this often?” his deep voice drags you from your reverie. You blink, gathering yourself when you realize he’s leaning forward a little, addressing you. He sips his beer before tilting the tip of the bottle toward Jeonghan and Joshua. “It’s like they're married.”
“You have no idea. Wait until game night.” 
“Oh yeah. Jeonghan told me about game night.” Seungcheol’s mouth twitches in a smile. “You’ll be there?” 
“Every Sunday. Do you like games?” 
Something about the glint in his eye makes your stomach flip. You sip your beer just to give you something to do, feeling more drunk off the easy confidence he exudes as he shrugs. “Depends on the game. I’m competitive.” 
“So am I.”
He grins. “I look forward to it, then.” 
Warming up to Seungcheol is easy. He’s the new hire at Jeonghan and Wonwoo’s office, and they both felt confident enough to bring him into the fold. You can see why - he’s kind and funny, and there’s a charm to him that draws the people around him like moths to a flame. Even with just the four of you sitting in the booth, you feel the magnetism. 
Friday nights at Rusty’s has been a tradition with Jeonghan and Joshua since you had been in college, filling yourself on five dollar wings, three dollar beers and occasionally lukewarm mozzarella sticks. Normally Vin, Wonwoo and Mingyu would be around, but tonight it’s just the smaller group. 
Jeonghan and Joshua slide out of the booth to play darts, shoving one another back and forth, the drink in their step making them a little off balance. You smile fondly as you pluck another beer out of the bucket of ice, struggling to pop the top, your wet hands sliding against the metal cap. 
Wordlessly, Seungcheol holds his hand out. Flushing from the neck down, you hand it over to him with a silent thank you. He pops the top easily, bicep flexing for a moment before he passes it back over, shooting you an award winning grin. 
“Wow, so strong.”
He pouts and you swear you see stars. “Hey, I am strong.” 
“No, no, you are. Thank you.” 
“You shouldn’t tease me. I’m new.” 
“Huh.” You sip your beer, letting the cool liquid slide down your throat. It does nothing to soothe the heat spreading over your skin under the sole attention of Seungcheol. “I don’t remember that being a rule.” 
“I never was one to play by the rules anyway.” 
“Oh, so you’re saying you cheat at games like Jeonghan does.” 
“I like winning.”
You roll your eyes. From the edge of your vision, you see people leave the pool table. Eager to stand up and stretch your legs, you start to slide out of the booth, the wood grain scratching against your jeans as you do. 
“Come on then, cheater. Let’s play pool.” 
“I’m down.” 
Seungcheol follows you. Your fingers grip the glass of your drink tight, knuckles straining. You move around tables and duck around other patrons, hyper aware of the way Seungcheol keeps close to you, the heat of him against your back. 
Next to the rows of dart boards are two pool tables, the felt a faded green with beer stains and other mysterious smudges on the surface. You grab a cue from the rack on the wall, spin it in your hands, and hand it over to Seungcheol. He eyes it, running his fingers along the splintered and dented wood.
Grabbing your cue in one hand and the triangle rack and set it on the table while he collects the balls from the table and the pockets, rolling them over to you. A few feet away, Joshua is already accusing Jeonghan of cheating. You don’t know how you cheat in darts, but you do know if there is a will, Jeonghan will find a way.
“Dangerous to let them have sharp objects,” Seungcheol notes, sliding the last ball over to you. You huff out a laugh, rolling the rack of billiard balls back and forth to set them. “You’re not going to get violent with me, right?”
“I don’t know, are you going to cheat?”
His smile is wicked. “Me? Definitely not.” 
“Hmm. Not convincing.”
Seungcheol presses the flat of his palm over his chest, drawing your eyes to how thick he is in the chest area. You swallow thickly as he says, “Cross my heart.” 
“Whatever you say. What are we playing for?” 
“What will you give me?” 
You look up at the shift in his tone. Dark. Flirty. He leans against the pool table, resting his hip casually as he crosses his arms over his chest. You ignore the way his arms flex, totally focused on the way his eyes are only for you. Intent. Meaningful. 
A warning goes off in your head. You already feel the pull to him, the innate attraction that has your heart hammering. You should brush off the flirtation, move on to other things. Relationships aren’t really your thing, but there’s something about him that makes you know you’ll want more. 
You already do want more. 
“What do you want?” you ask softly, ignoring your better judgment. 
When Seungcheol smiles, you know you’d give him anything. Everything.
“I can think of something, I think.”
-
DAY SEVEN
“I like this,” Seungcheol says, voice rough from use. He buttons his jeans, looking over at you. You’re still half-alive on your bed, a sheen of sweat covering your body. The sheets stick to you when you roll to look at him. “Are you good with casual?”
You’re only half listening, too distracted by his flexing abs. “Hmm?”
Seungcheol looks good tonight. He looks good every night, but tonight he’s in dark jeans and a white sweater. The sweater looks soft like his hair, which has grown longer and hangs in his eyes as he looks down to slip on his shoes. 
“I’m not really looking for a relationship at the moment but this,” he answers, flicking his fingers between the two of you. “It’s good.” 
“Agreed. I’m good with casual. I’m a little too busy for anything more.” 
It’s not a lie. You are too busy to really commit to someone. Again, a warning goes off in your mind like that first night you met him, screaming danger. You ignore it, not ready to give up Seungcheol just yet. 
He grins, pulling his short back over his head. “Cool. If you ever don’t want to or whatever though, let me know, yeah?”
“You too.” 
-
DAY TEN 
Seungcheol [2:06 AM]: Come home with me You [2:06 AM]: Everyone would notice Seungcheol [2:07 AM]: Tell them where you’re going who caaaares Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Unless you don’t want to tell them then that’s ok Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: I personally don’t care if they know I’m rearranging your guts most nights :)  You [2:10 AM]: CHEOL You [2:10 AM]: Fine pls hold my hand while I do this. They’re going to roast me Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: Holding your hand sooo tight Seungcheol [2:08 AM]: But from like over here tho  You [2:19 AM]: That was so embarrassing. Where did you go Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: She’s so brave, she’s well behaved Seungcheol [2:19 AM]: Standing outside hurry it's cold as dick out here
Seungcheol [4:38 AM]: Don’t forget to text me when you make it home  You [4:52 AM]: Home safe!  
-
DAY TWENTY THREE
You [11:10 PM]: Wyd Seungcheol [11:34 PM]: Need it that bad? You [11:39 PM]: Wow goodnight!!!!! Seungcheol [11:39 PM]: Nah come back Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: COME BACK Seungcheol [11:43 PM]: Omw. Unlock the door You [11:45 PM]: Need it that bad?  Seungcheol [11:45 PM]: Yes actually :) 
-
DAY THIRTY
You slide your finger across the phone, curious as you pick up Seungcheol’s phone call. “Hello?”
“Are you hungry?” 
You look at your watch. It’s almost one in the afternoon, your stomach growling as it realizes that yeah you are kind of hungry. “Actually yeah. Why?” 
“I had to run errands and I’m by your place and starving. Wanna get lunch?” 
Your lips twitch in a smile. Leaning against the counter, you press the phone against you a little closer. “Sure, what did you have in mind?” 
“Do you like Greek?” You hum in assent, chewing on your fingernail nervously. You can hear him get into his car, pausing momentarily as he starts it and curses at how hot it is. You can’t help but laugh. “Alright, pick you up in ten?”
“Alright.” 
-
DAY FORTY THREE
He’s not yours. You tell yourself that over and over again as you try not to look across the bar where Seungcheol is sitting for the nth time. You’d noticed him immediately when you and Vin walked in, clocking his wide frame and familiar laugh with a precision that makes you curse yourself.
Now, Seungcheol is leaning against a high top, talking to a pretty girl sitting on a stool next to him. He’d waved at you earlier and shot you a smile and a wink, but he’s with friends you’re unfamiliar with tonight, and hasn’t come over.
Not that you expect him to. He isn’t yours and the casual thing you’ve got going means he can do whatever he wants, no strings attached.
So why is your heart in your throat as you glance over to see the girl laughing at something he’s said? They’re not alone but somehow that isn’t comforting at all. You pick at the varnish on the table to distract yourself, suddenly interested in the splinters and not the man across the bar from you.
Finishing the rest of your beer, you pull out another, hoping that the hoppy taste erases the icky feeling that settles on your skin. You’re not participating in conversation much, but if your friends notice, they have the decency not to call you out. 
At least Vin knows what’s up, checking on you every once in a while. Thankfully she doesn’t say anything, occasionally giving you a squeeze instead. She knows the deal, understanding the irrationality between wanting to control something that isn’t yours to control. 
Halfway through your beer, your phone vibrates. You flip it over and your heart starts pounding when you see Seungcheol’s name come across the screen, a message waiting to be read. With a shaky hand, you slide your thumb across the screen to unlock it, the message popping up.
Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: Wanna come back to mine? 
Surprised, you look up from your phone to where he’s still at the high top. His phone is in his hands and he’s looking right at you, flashing a grin when you meet his eyes. The girl is still sitting next to him, but his attention is entirely on you now, pinning you to the spot. 
Your phone vibrates again and you glance down, your phone’s brightness stark in the gloom of the bar. 
Seungcheol [12:13 AM]: You’re cute when you’re surprised You [12:14 AM]: What, the girl you were talking to said no? Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: I didn’t ask her. I asked you Seungcheol [12:14 AM]: Omg wait are you jealous?? You [12:14 AM]: No You [12:14 AM]: Definitely not  Seungcheol [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me is Hades for a liar or whatever You [12:17 AM]: Hateful to me as the gates of Hades is that man who hides one thing in his heart and speaks another, loser Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Same thing Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: But seriously, I have no interest in her. I’m asking YOU Seungcheol [12:18 AM]: Will beg from my knees in this bar Seungcheol [12:19 AM]: Even tho the floor is kind of gross You [12:20 AM]: I mean, if you’re offering to get on your knees… 
You’re not sure if you trust his answer about not being interested in the other girl, but it doesn’t matter. You still end up leaning against him in an Uber, his hand squeezing your thigh playfully as he leans his forehead on the window, eyes closed to enjoy the cool glass. 
He is so handsome, face glowing red as the car stops at a stoplight. You examine him closely, eyes dragging from the soft curve of his mouth to his impossibly silk lashes. You’d told him once that most girls would kill for those lashes, and now he likes to bat them at you every time he wants something. 
The car starts moving and you look away from him, taking in a deep breath. Seungcheol isn’t yours, but you’re starting to think you want him to be. 
DAY FIFTY TWO
“Is it weird if I bring a bag of shit to stay?” Seungcheol’s voice is shy over the receiver. You grip your phone tighter, biting your bottom lip to hide your smile as you roll onto your side in bed, snuggling into the pillow more. It smells like him, bergamot and cedarwood. “You can tell me if that’s weird.”
“Not weird at all,” you say carefully, too nervous to scare him off. “You usually end up sleeping here anyway.” 
Usually really means always. He’s been doing that more recently, crashing at your apartment after coming over and vice versa. You’ve gone from Uber rides home at dawn to waking up curled into his back. He’s the first person you’ve ever let loiter in your space as much as he has, but you try not to think about it too much, as though just the acknowledgement might spook him.
Whatever thing between you feels fragile, a rare, glass menagerie set that can shatter if handled wrong. Friends with benefits is what you call it, but you’re not quite sure if that’s what it is.
“Okay cool. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn to go back to my place and shower sucks.” 
“I do have a shower.”
“Oh I’m aware. It’s one of my favorite places in your apartment.” 
Your stomach flutters and you clench your thighs together. Looking at the clock on your nightstand, you realize it’s getting late. “Better hurry,” you murmur. “I might be too tired for a shower when you get here.” 
His chuckle is deep. Throaty. “I’ll speed, then.” 
After hanging up, you toss your phone to the end of your bed and stare at the ceiling. Outside, the city hums beyond the window of your apartment. The lights in your home are mostly turned off, a single lamp providing low light in the living room so Seungcheol can see when he comes in, and a flickering candle on your nightstand and in the bathroom. 
Your bed is warm and you do feel sleepy, but the excitement of seeing Seungcheol keeps you awake well enough. You try not to think of that too much, either. He was just there a few nights prior, and already he’s on his way back. Like it’s common. Routine. 
And it sort of is, you guess. You hangout with Seungcheol almost more than you see Vin and Jeonghan these days, and you’re almost always spending the night together. You know his favorite late night snacks, you know the type of coffee he likes to make in the morning before work, and you know about his family, his stresses at work. What makes him tick. 
It’s more than you ever thought you’d know about him when you agreed to keep your sex life with him casual and at a distance. He is anything but at a distance. 
Seungcheol must speed, because it feels like hardly any time has passed when you hear your apartment door open and shut, the sound of the deadbolt clicking. You lift yourself up to lean on your elbows, watching from your bed as he enters your line of vision, a backpack over one shoulder. 
He’s dressed in a long t-shirt and sweats, cozy and warm and still unbelievably good looking. He grins when he sees you, eyes creasing at the corners as he enters your room and drops his bag by your door. 
Without saying anything, Seungcheol crawls onto your bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he inches up over you. Falling backward onto the mattress, you let him loom over you. Heat radiates from his body, warming you up. Your heart thuds as he ducks down, his hands bracketing your head as he cages you in. He brushes his nose against yours and you feel sparks, trying to regulate your breathing. 
“Hi,” he whispers. 
“Hi,” you whisper back, reaching your hands up to rest on his hips. He reacts, pressing his waist into yours a little, making you bear his weight. “Ugh, heavy.” 
“Too bad.” 
Seungcheol’s teeth nip your jaw, making your hips twitch upward. You can feel the smirk against your skin as he presses a wet kiss under your ear, moving his way to your neck. 
“I was promised a shower.”
“Maybe I’m too tired,” You murmur.
He hums, leaning more of his weight into you. It’s comforting, not crushing, and you can feel the way his heart is beating wildly in his chest, in tune with yours. You smell bergamot and cedarwood, making your thoughts dizzy and scattered while he whispers, “I’ll wash your hair.” 
“Hmmm. I’m listening.” 
He presses a wet kiss to your pulse point, tongue laving against your skin. Your fingers twist in his shirt, your muscles tensing as you fight off a shiver. You can hear his soft breath, the way the sheets shift under the two of you, the way your heart hammers.  
“I’ll massage your shoulders…” 
“Hmm.” 
His teeth scrape against your throat and you sigh, arching up into him, eyes closed. “I’ll eat you out.” 
Fuck. You’re putty in his hands. Seungcheol could get you to do anything he asked. You don’t know if he knows - you’re too afraid to show him, to let him in on the secret out of fear of what it would mean to him. If it was too much, too deep.
But like this, it’s hard not to hide it. Especially when his filthy mouth hits a weak point in you, turning you thoughtless as you nod your head in response, nails digging into his hip bones through the fabric of his shirt. He makes a noise in response, leaning up off of you reluctantly but pulling you with him. 
Dropping his hands, you head to the bathroom, feeling uneven. Seungcheol whines and grabs you to pull you back toward him. He wraps his arms around you, squeezing tightly. 
“You haven’t even given me a kiss,” he pouts, looking down at you through long, dark lashes. “I want a kiss.” 
This is the problem with Seungcheol. He says things like this when you’re supposed to be casual, something easy and without feelings and without strings. But this feels like something, it feels like there's a thread connecting you, tugging your mouth to his because of course you indulge him.
You always do. 
Seungcheol’s lips are soft and taste faintly of his cherry chapstick. You smile into the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to press closer to him. He kisses you back eagerly, slotting his lips against yours and humming with delight. When you pull away, he’s smug, grinning happily. 
“Come on,” he urges, now leading the charge as he pulls you by the hand toward your bathroom. 
Instead of turning on the light, Seungcheol uses the glow of the burning candle on the counter to navigate. He drops your hand to open up the cabinets and pulls out two towels as you trail to the shower, opening the glass door to lean in and turn it on. 
Steam starts to fill the room as you close the shower door and turn to him. He sets the towels on the counter, not bothering to shut the door to the bedroom. Instead, he grips the bottom of his shirt and peels it upward and over his head, revealing all toned muscle and tan skin. 
He momentarily distracts you. Seungcheol is a work of art, equal parts rippling muscle and soft skin. You slide your shorts down, distracted by the way he looks in the golden shroud of the candle light, sliding his sweatpants down his legs. 
Sensing your eyes, he lifts his head as he kicks off his sweats, briefs slung low on his hips. “Admiring me?” 
“Shut up.” 
Looking away, you take off your shirt, feeling the heat flush from your cheeks down to your neck. He chuckles, peeling off his briefs before kicking them toward the sink and striding toward the shower. He stops to kiss you on the cheek as he pulls open the door. 
“I don’t mind,” he teases. “I like it.” 
It’s true. Seungcheol has always had the easy confidence of someone who is comfortable in their skin. You admire that about him - and envy him a little. Seungcheol never seems to worry what others think of him, nor does he seem embarrassed or concerned about making the wrong move. Saying the wrong thing. 
Steam hits you full on as you step into the shower. Seungcheol is already standing under the spray of water, his back turned toward you. For a moment you admire him again, watching the way the water sluices down his broad back and narrow waist. 
Your eyes drift to the tattoo at his neck, the branches of the tree stretching toward his shoulders. You’ve traced that tree with the tips of your fingers and tongue over and over again, fascinated about the way the ink flexes when he moves. 
A chill catches you, making you shiver and step toward the heat of the water. He senses your approach, turning his head to the side to look at you over his shoulder. He grins, reaching a hand back toward you to pull you close. You lace your fingers, letting him pull you into him as he turns. 
Hot water hits your skin, immediately soothing. You sigh, leaning into the firmness of him, Seungcheol’s arms wrapping around you. He catches your mouth again, your eyes fluttering shut as he kisses you slowly, tongue lazy as he licks into your mouth. 
Seungcheol’s hands spread across your back, fingers digging in a little as he starts to explore, one hand surging up and the other down. You moan into his mouth as the hand that drifts down grabs a handful of your ass, squeezing a little. His mouth curves into the kiss and you feel his teeth pull at your bottom lip, something he knows you love.
As always, you’re a goner. You don’t stand a chance with him. Not that first night and not now when he kisses you like something more. Not when he slides his hand around to your front, pressed between your bodies to run his fingers up the wet folds of your pussy. 
He groans into the kiss that has turned sloppy, hungry. “Fucking wet.”
“We’re in the shower.” 
He growls and pulls his mouth from you to attach to your neck, biting and sucking harshly. You let out a breathy sound, head tilting back heavily as you feel his tongue lick the water from your skin. “Don’t take away my credit.” 
“The only crime is pride.”
The pads of his fingers press into your clit, making your knees knock together and the breath leave your lungs. He smiles against your neck, humming. “Which classic are you quoting at me today?” 
“Antigone by Sophocles.” 
“What’s that one about?” 
Finding words is nearly impossible. The heat of the shower has you flushed and distracted, the steam making it harder to breathe, thoughts sticky as Seungcheol continues to tease you, fingers dragging down to your clenching entrance to press his fingers in slightly before dragging them back up.
Your nails bite into the back of his neck, clinging to him for life as he holds you up, one arm looped around your back to press you to him while the other makes all your thoughts scattered. 
“Come on,” he urges gently, bringing his face to yours. He brushes his nose against yours, nudging. “Tell me.” 
“She was a tragic character in a play written by Sophocles,” you sigh. “She was the daughter of Oedipus.” 
“The guy who fucked his mom?”
Your laughter bubbles out of you. He laughs too, his hold tightening. “Yeah, Cheol. The guy who fucked his mom.”
“Craaazy family.” 
“Do you really want to talk about Greek tragedy incest right now?”
“Nope,” he says happily. “I do want to eat this pussy though.” 
Seungcheol flips gears so quickly that it’s hard to keep up. He swings you toward the glass wall of the shower, pressing your chest against it. You moan loudly, startled by the cool glass against your hard nipples. The contrast of hot water and the cool glass feels good, your eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol drops to his knees behind you. He gently presses the inside of your knees, urging you to spread your legs. 
“Just like that,” he encourages, hands ghosting upward to squeeze your ass. He pulls your hips away from the glass and toward him, groaning as he comes face level to your cunt. “Fuck.”
Your breath fogs the glass. It’s cold when you press your palms against it, holding yourself up as Seungcheol dips forward, running the flat of his tongue down your slit. You let out a pathetic sound and he laughs, fingers squeezing your flesh. 
Everything feels like an exposed nerve. You melt, knees shaking and unsteady as Seungcheols tongue leisurely explores your folds, dipping into your entrance before dragging up to circle your clit. 
One of your hands leaves the glass to reach back, sinking into the wet strands of his hair and holding him to you. He grunts in pleasure, the buzz of his mouth adding to the simulation as he fastens his lips to you, sucking gently. 
Seungcheol’s mouth is a weapon. You fall apart under the warmth of his lips, the softness of his tongue. He sucks at your core, greedy and pleased, fingers digging into you as he presses in further. He can never get enough, the wet sounds of his hunger making your toes curl.
“Feels so good,” you pant against the glass. Your nails scrape against his scalp and he moans loudly, muffled by your cunt. “Your fucking mouth.” 
“Mmm. Love you like this.” His tongue flicks expertly across your clit and you feel your thighs clench, legs shaking as your orgasm spools inside of you. “God this shower hurts my fucking knees though.”
“You wanted to eat me out in the shower.”
A hand cracks across your ass cheek, making you arch against the glass. He chuckles, tongue diving back, words slurred as he mutters, “And I’d do it again.”
Seungcheol’s mouth feels divine. You go quiet as he sucks at you, focused on the warmth spreading through you and the way your breath starts to stutter, limbs locking up. 
When you come, you go boneless. Seungcheol holds you up, pressing you against the glass as he licks you through your orgasm. You twitch against him, nails dragging in his hair, your other hand sliding against the glass as you fight to grip anything to ground you.
Breathing raggedly, you sag when he pulls his face from you and stands. He groans and you grin, knowing his knees hurt from the tile of the shower. He doesn’t care, though. He crowds you in, cock pressed against your backside as his arms loop around you. 
“Kiss me.” His voice is soft, needy. 
Turning your face over your shoulder, you let him catch his mouth with yours, all tongue and cum and spit. You don’t care, pushing into him. One of his hands slides down between your legs, making you whimper into his mouth as he slides his fingers through your sticky folds to press two of them into your entrance. 
Seungcheol is a giver. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve slept together or had brief, fast encounters, he always makes it a point to please you. To go out of his way to make you shake against him, like he needs it. 
He keeps your mouth melded to his as his fingers fuck you slowly. You clench around his fingers, moaning his name as he presses them against the soft spot inside of you. You see stars, panting into his mouth as he strings you along, dragging you toward another orgasm. 
It’s slow. Intimate. His mouth is hot and wet, sucking at biting at your bottom lip. His other hand snakes up to your throat, not applying pressure but gripping you, holding you to him. If he didn’t have you so tightly pressed to the glass, you think you’d collapse.
“You won’t fall,” he breathes into your mouth, reading your mind. “I’ve got you.”
“My knees are fucking useless right now.”
“You’re tough. Come on, I know you can give me more.” 
You’ll give him anything he asks. You feel your heart slamming in your chest as he works you up again, feel the ragged breathing until you momentarily stop, everything tense and suspended as you clench around his fingers, shuddering violently as you come. 
“Knew it,” he murmurs. “Good girl.”
A whine leaves you at the praise, head shaking back and forth a little as the oversensitivity makes you squirm. He works you through it, mouth pressed to your ear, whispering to breathe, baby as he strokes you gently until you’re leaning against him heavily. 
Seungcheol removes his hand but keeps holding you up, letting you catch your breath. He peppers innocent kisses along your shoulder, lips brushing your skin tenderly. When you stand up with more strength, he pats you on the hip, gentle.
“Good?”
“Mhmm.” Craning over your shoulder, you catch his chin with your mouth, kissing softly. You press your ass into him, feeling his straining cock. “Come on.” 
“Yeah?”
“All good.”
“Thank fuck. Thought I lost you.”
“I’ve had worse,” you grin, a little tired.
He kisses you, patting you approvingly before he grinds the tip of his cock between your legs. He groans deep in his chest, grip on you tightening for a moment. You reach behind you, gripping the base of his cock firmly, stroking gently before lining him up with your entrance. 
Seungcheol pushes in, both of you whining in harmony at the feeling. It feels good, your pussy throbbing around him as he presses in slowly, letting you feel the stretch. He clings to you, trying to keep it together as you flutter around him. 
“Yeah,” he whispers, more to himself than you. “Shit.” 
Gently, Seungcheol starts to fuck you against the glass, strokes deep and slow. It’s mind-numbingly good, your cheek cool and pressed against the shower wall, Seungcheol’s face buried in your neck, breath puffing against your skin. 
He holds you reverently, both hands on your hips to keep you where he wants you. You reach one hand behind your head, holding the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin. He hums happily, always pleased when you bite and scratch him.
That had been a surprise. You always thought he wouldn’t want you to mark him, that he wouldn’t want evidence of your time spent together. Seungcheol is the opposite though, urging you to rake your nails across soft skin, to bite at him and bruise him. 
Your feet slide apart a little as he strengthens his thrusts. You squeal, hand smacking the glass to hold yourself up. He lets out a loud laugh, pausing to let you fix your stance. He taps your thigh in question and you nod, lifting your leg a little to let him slide a hand under your thigh to press it against the shower wall for better grip.
When he rolls his hips into you this time, it’s deeper, making you tremble against the glass. A groan drips from Seungcheol’s mouth as he sets his pace, pinning you between him and the glass with nothing to do but to take what he gives you. 
“Can you do another?” he asks, breath shaky. His fingers squeeze your thigh for emphasis, the snap of his hips getting stronger. You nod, unable to answer verbally. He huffs, half laughter, half something else. “Yeah you can.” 
And you can. Seungcheol can pull pleasure out of you like thread from a loom, his skilled hands guiding you where he wants you to go. It’s easy for him, the way he knows your body so acute and familiar that the thought alone makes you unravel a little, your whines muted by the glass. 
He makes you come like that, stuck between his warmth and the cold, the two contrasts keeping you suspended as you seize up around him. He grunts at the feeling, hips sloppy, losing their rhythm until he clenches up, growling your name into your neck as he tips over the edge after you. 
For a few moments, you remain melded together, panting in time. Seungcheol makes no rush of peeling himself away from you. Instead, he’s content to mouth at your shoulder and neck, running his nose along your throat. You squirm and laugh, ticklish. 
Grinning, he does it again, nuzzling into you and making you laugh, sound echoing in the shower. “Seungcheol!”
“It’s cute.” 
“Come on,” you urge. “You said you’d wash my hair.” 
He steals a kiss. “Alright, alright. Pass me the shampoo.” 
-
DAY FIFTY SEVEN
“Who is that?” Seungcheol asks, jerking his head toward the bar. You turn and follow his gaze to see Seokmin standing at the bar, ordering drinks. “Never seen him before.”
“Jealous?” You tease, leaning forward and batting your eyelashes at him. Seokmin is just a coworker, but it doesn’t mean you can’t poke Seungcheol a little. Except Seungcheol doesn’t laugh, leveling you with a stare, lips turning downward. “Wait, you actually are.”
“Don’t push it. It was just a question.”
“We work together,” you clarify, immediately turning off the charm when you recognize he’s not amused. “Actually I think he sort of has a thing for Vin, which is why he’s here.” 
Seungcheol hums, sipping his beer and looking away from you. Licking your lips, you reach out a hand and touch his gently, bringing his dark eyes back to you. He looks serious - more serious than you’ve ever seen him, face blank, eyes unreadable. 
“I mean it.” You squeeze his hand, trying to comfort him. “We’re just friends.” 
“Alright.” 
“I feel like you’re mad at me.”
“Why would I be mad?” 
You shrug, struggling to articulate. He still has that expression you can’t read, something stark and closed off. “Just seems like it.” 
He shakes his head again, but you don’t think he’s telling the truth, watching the way his eyes shift to watch Seokmin approach. “Just tired, I think I might head out.” 
Panic grips you and you say the first thing you can think of, throwing caution to the wind. “Want to come over?” 
That gives him pause. He studies you. You feel a tightness in your throat under his scrutiny. His mouth twitches and he nods. “Alright,” he says softly. “If you want me to.”
“I do.” You squeeze his hand again. “Really.”
-
DAY SEVENTY EIGHT
“Want to do me a huge favor?” 
You look up from your spot on your couch. Seungcheol is in your kitchen, using his hip to close the door to the fridge. He lifts the lid on the package of grapes, plastic cracking loudly as he does. Leaning against the counter, he pops one into his mouth, crunching happily. 
“Besides giving you my grapes?” you ask, deadpan. He grins around them shrugging happily as he eats another. You roll your eyes, turning back to the laptop carefully balanced on your knee. “What’s the favor?” 
“We have this giant New Years Eve party at work in two weeks and I need a date.”
That gives you pause. You stare at the computer screen but you can’t make out anything on the screen. You don’t dare to turn and look at Seungcheol, fearful that the feelings his question brings out will be right on the surface of your expression.
Date. It’s a scary word. You and Seungcheol sort of go on dates all the time, but they’re not really dates. At least, not from your perspective. If you were to ask Jeonghan, he would launch into another lecture that you should just put a goddamn title on this thing. Vin happily agrees, both of them hammering you on calling the thing between you and Seuncheol what it is.
But it’s friends with benefits. Friends go out to eat meals together and go shopping together - they hangout. The benefits are the sex. It’s the pressing you against your mattress as he maps your body with his mouth, it’s the way you sink to your knees for him after he’s had a bad day at work, taking him into the heat of your mouth to make him forget. 
So yes, you’ve gone places together alone and as a friend date. But somehow this feels different, and you don’t think it’s supposed to. 
Carefully, you ask, “Your date, huh?”
“Mhmm. Free drinks and apps, and it’s at the top of that fancy new hotel. We can stay the night so we don’t have to pay for an expensive as fuck Uber” 
Not for the first time, you find yourself unsure where the line is with Seungcheol. You’ve agreed multiple times that this is just casual, a shared benefit between friends. And yet every time you feel confident in what you are, the line blurs. 
You’re as guilty as he is, you know. On more than one occasion you’re the one who has crossed the line, messing up the clear boundary the two of you have had in place for weeks. Somehow, you both manage to be utterly terrible at casual, but you’re too afraid to say something about it. Too afraid to ruin it. 
“I suppose I can be convinced.” 
“Oh? What can I do to convince you?” 
You look up as his tone turns to velvet, that voice he uses when he’s coaxing you into his lap, or when he’s- 
“It’s really hard to be sexy when there’s grape juice running down your chin, Cheol.” 
He pouts, grabbing a paper towel to wipe the lower half of his face as you laugh. He’s cute, pink lips downturned and eyes round as he sulks. “Don’t make fun of me. Just say yes to being my date.” 
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll go.” 
His grin is burnished gold, the sun breaking for first light over the horizon. “Thank you.” 
“Mhmm.” He crunches into another grape and you scowl. “Stop eating all my fucking grapes!” 
-
DAY NINETY TWO
“Holy shit,” Seungcheol mutters when you step out of the hotel bedroom. He feels his heart start to pound in his chest from where he stands in the kitchenette, fingers squeezing the glass of whiskey he poured himself earlier. “You look unreal.”
And you do. You always do. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when Jeonghan and Joshua introduced the two of you that first night at that shitty bar you like to go to on Fridays. The real kicker had been your personality, though. Warm, kind, quick wit. A bit of a history nerd, which is his favorite thing. 
Honestly, he loves a lot of things about you. He knows that he has to do something about that. Knows that this stopped being casual a long time ago. Seungcheol has no problem with casual hookups and keeping people in a rotation, but when it comes to you… he just wants you. 
It’s like he has no idea how to keep his distance, how to keep his feelings out of it. He doesn’t mind, but he needs to figure out how to tell you. How to take that next step and move you from friends to more - if that’s what you want, anyway. 
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you say back neutrally. He can see the way your eyes linger on him though, your gaze betraying the calmness of your voice, as always.
You don’t get it, though. Seungcheol cannot keep his eyes off you, dragging them from top to bottom. The black dress is snug on your frame, his eyes tracing the swells of your breasts, the dip of your hips, the curve of your ass and thighs. 
Dragging his eyes back up, he meets your gaze. That is one of his favorite things. Your eyes, full of light and depth and thoughts that he always wants to fall into. There is so much simmering under the surface that you don’t say and he’s never asked.
He wants to. 
Knocking back the rest of his drink, Seungcheol leaves the glass on the counter and walks over to you. You shift from foot to foot, eyes darting up to examine the ceiling. He smirks, feeling the nerves radiating from you as he approaches. 
When he reaches out, you don’t step away from him. You let him skim his hands up your sides, going until he’s running them over your shoulders and on either side of your neck so he can cradle your face. He turns your gaze back to him and you stare up at him through your lashes. 
He was a goner on day one. How ridiculous to think he’s not just made this real, told you how he doesn’t want a single thing to be casual and superficial between you. 
Instead of stealing a searing kiss and pushing you back into the bedroom like he wants to, Seungcheol presses a short kiss to the corner of your mouth. He’s too afraid that if he starts something that you won’t make it downstairs. 
Now isn’t the time for that, though. There’s a party upstairs and free drinks and he wants to spend time with his friends. Spend time with you.
The Seungcheol that existed before you is a stranger to him. He barely remembers what it was like to have people he wasn’t genuinely interested in, what it was like to show up alone at parties and take someone home. Hardly recalls pushing people away when they wanted too much. 
All it took was meeting you.
“Come on,” he urges gently, leading you from the room and to the elevator. 
Seungcheol slides his phone from his pocket in the elevator. You press close against him, your arm brushing against his as it fills up with people. He notes where Wonwoo tells him to meet and puts his phone back in his pocket, leaning into you a little.
You let him, making his mouth twitch upward. You always let him do what he wants, and when you don’t, an easy pout gets his way. He’s wrapped around your finger, too. He doesn’t know if you realize it, but he would give you anything you wanted without a moment's hesitation. 
When the elevator doors open, Seungcheol takes your hand. You let him pull you into the party teeming with people, the sound of music swelling over the dull roar of the crowd. You stick closer to him, fingers squeezing him tightly as the pair of you walk toward the check-in table. 
“This is beautiful,” you murmur to him. 
His first instinct is to look at you because you are beautiful. You’re not looking at him, your neck craned to sweep over the party. He smiles at you, watching the glow of your side profile, eyes wide with wonder.
Dragging his eyes from your face, he glances around the party. It is gorgeous, with views of the entire city glittering beneath the building like a bed of stars, shimmering decorations reflecting the golden lights, a giant clock to show the time, and massive flower arrangements. 
“It’s nice,” he agrees, shuffling to the table where he gives his name. “Choi Seungcheol.”
“Perfect, thanks.” The person working the table peels two wristbands and gestures for you both to hold out your wrists. You let go of his hand to do so, letting the attendant wrap your arm in a blue band. “Have a great night, Mr. and Mrs. Choi.” 
Both of you blink in surprise. You open and close your mouth as if you’re unsure how to correct them and Seungcheol laughs, shrugging as he takes your hand and leads you out of the line and into the party proper this time.
“This way, wifey.” 
You roll your eyes but grin anyway, looping your arm through his offered one and tugging him close. He’s satisfied, leading you through the tight crowd of people toward the south bar that Wonwoo had said their friends were waiting at.
Joshua spots you and waves you both over, making room at the bar for you to join. Jeonghan’s eyes flick to where your arm is looped through Seungcheol to Seungcheol himself, raising a brow. Seungcheol glares at him, urging him to shut up and Jeonghan grins, turning to order drinks at the bar. 
Wonwoo claps Seungcheol on the back in greeting before kissing you on both cheeks and letting you sit on the only barstool available. Seungcheol moves with you pressed to your back as he leans an elbow on the bar, keeping you close. You lean into him, earning a shy smile that he tries to hide behind the rim of the champagne glass that Jeonghan hands him.
He likes this. He likes being with his friends. He likes the way you laugh and lean back further into him when you do. He likes that his friends don’t bother the two of you about being attached at the hip. And he likes the way your face lights up every time he jokingly calls you wifey. 
Seungcheol wants this. 
He doesn’t recall the last time he wanted a relationship the way he wants with you. It doesn’t matter anyway. Everything before you is gone and forgotten, and what matters now are the things that are post-meeting-you. 
Plied with lots of champagne and your laughter, Seungcheol lets you drag him onto the dance floor, wrapping your arms around him as he spins you. He doesn’t know what has him more drunk, the alcohol or you. He thinks it might be you. 
The DJ announces that it’s one minute until midnight, making Seungcheol spin and look up at the clock. The partygoers cheer, clustering together to press toward the clock to count down. Seungcheol wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close in the tight crowd. 
His heart flutters as he watches the numbers countdown, realizing he gets to kiss you at midnight. He’s kissed you over a hundred times by now, but the prospect makes him giddy. His heart races as the numbers drop and he looks at you from the corner of your eye.
You’re watching the clock, uncontrolled happiness on your face as you yell with the rest of the crowd, counting each number as it passes by. 
When the clock strikes midnight, you peer up at him, suddenly unsure. He can’t believe you don’t see it, that you’d doubt for one second that he wants you to be his first kiss of the year. His heart seizes, dipping down with a smile to press his lips to yours.
Your mouth is warm and champagne-sweet, making him groan in the back of his throat. Your fingers cling to his hip, holding him by the waist as he slips a hand up to the back of your neck to hold you in place, deepening the kiss. 
When you pull your mouth away, he makes up his mind. Fuck everything he said about keeping it casual - he doesn’t want to go another minute without you knowing what he wants. 
-
DAY NINETY THREE
“Be my girlfriend.”
The words that come from Seungcheol’s lips catch you off guard. A giggle bursts to your lips and you lean back, trying to examine him from a little farther away. You feel the glitter of champagne in your veins and the same buzz that comes with being near Seungcheol, wondering if maybe he’s had too much to drink.
“What?” you ask, examining his face. He’s flushed, lips pink and smiling, but his eyes are dark and serious.
“Be my girlfriend,” he says again, this time quieter. He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours. His breath fans your face, warm and sweetened by champagne. “I know we agreed to be casual so if you don’t want more, that’s fine. But there is nothing casual about the way I feel about you.”
Heart thundering, you laugh and cling to him a little tighter. He nudges you with his head, as though asking what’s so funny. You don’t know how to put into words that you’ve wanted to be not casual for a long time, that you are dizzy with the prospect of being something more, that he’s just made the first minute of your year perfect.
Instead of trying to string together the words to tell him, you kiss him. His mouth turns upward, letting you press your palms to the sides of his face, holding him to your lips. There’s no one else but just the two of you, entirely in your own bubble on the rooftop. 
Relief mixed with euphoria floods your system. It’s a weight lifted off your shoulders, realizing that you’re not crazy, that nothing you feel about Seungcheol is casual and that’s okay. That he feels it too. 
Your fingers slide into the hair at the back of his neck, pulling slightly. He groans, separating your mouths to peer down at you, his lashes fanning when he blinks, dazed. 
“Don’t do that,” he whispers. “This is a work party. I’ll fold right here.” 
“So take me somewhere that isn’t here and fold.”
His gummy smile is blinding, your heart soaring. “Alright, wifey.” 
“Gonna need a ring pop at a minimum if you’re gonna keep saying that shit.”
He links your fingers together, stepping away from you. He tugs you after him and you follow. “Deal. What flavor?”
“Strawberry. I kind of want to suck something else right now, though.” 
Seungcheol groans and you laugh, loving the way he visibly struggles as your words land. He walks faster, a new pep in his step as you make your way toward the elevator. He shouts Wonwoo’s name as he goes, waving his hand to tell him that you’re leaving. 
Wonwoo’s grin is all-knowing as he throws two thumbs up, cheering happily. You tingle with a little bit of embarrassment, scurrying toward the closing elevator door to catch it. It opens again and you both slip inside, alone and buzzing from the party and your newfound status. 
The door closes and Seungcheol pushes in close. You press against the wall, looking up at his sharp grin, his nose nudging yours. His lips are almost on yours, the heat of them against your mouth making you dizzy and the heavy weight of his body against yours making your thoughts sticky. 
“Gonna suck something else, huh?” 
“Uh huh.” 
“Wanna do it right here in the elevator?” 
“Huh?” 
He bursts into laughter at your wide gaze, tapping the underside of your chin with his knuckle in jest. “I’m kidding. Unless…”
You shove him away and he starts laughing again, bending over with the force of it. You can’t be annoyed by his teasing, loving the way his eyes crease at the corner and how he laughs with the full force of his body. 
“You’re so annoying.” 
“You should have seen your face, though.” 
“I mean I’ll do it right now, if you want.”
His smile drops and he opens his mouth a little, shocked. “Wait, really?”
“No, but you should have seen your face.”
The elevator arriving at the appropriate floor saves him from answering. He scowls at you and you giggle, grabbing him and pushing him into the hall and toward your room. He turns on his heel, falling into step with you and fishing the room key out of his pocket. 
It’s cold in the room when you enter. Seungcheol had booked a one bedroom suite with a small living room and kitchenette. It was more than what you needed for the night, but it feels nice, like your own private getaway. 
Taking you by the hand, he walks backward toward the bedroom, pulling you along. His smile is beautiful and you wear a matching one. A thrill shoots through you when you realize that Seungcheol is yours. Really yours. 
Sitting on the bed, he pulls you into his lap. Your knees sink in the mattress on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. Leaning over him, you link your hands behind the back of his neck, threading your fingers through the silky hair there. 
Seungcheol tilts his face up toward you, eyes fluttering as you play with his hair. His arms loop around your waist, squeezing you. 
“Hi,” he breathes. 
“Hi.”
Leaning down, you slot your mouth against his. He tastes like champagne, mouth warm. Kissing him takes your breath away, thoughts guttering out as he licks into your mouth hungrily. You lose yourself in the feeling of him, feeling like you’re on fire. 
Seungcheol falls backward on the bed. His lips are swollen and pink, eyes heavy-lidded as he stares up at you. He reaches for you but you give him a coy smile and slip from his lap, crouching to the floor and running your hands along his thighs, feeling them flex beneath your touch. 
You love Seungcheol’s thighs. Your nails drag across the fabric and he lets out a breathy sound. His muscles twitch as you reach to brush your fingers over his zipper, making sure to press into his cock. His hips jerk upward at the barest hint of stimulation and you grin.
“It’s no elevator,” you tease. “But will this do?” 
“Fucking anywhere will do.” 
Seungcheol has always been sensitive. He’s easy to rile, cock already firm by the time you’re undoing his belt and he’s helping you pull his dress pants down his thighs. You eye the dark patch in his briefs, proud that with just a little bit of kissing and some light touching he’s already leaking at the tip.
Sitting high on your knees, you lean forward, tongue pressing wetly to the tip of his cock through the fabric. A hand shoots to the back of your head, his fingers gripping you firmly as you laugh, tongue still pressed to him and soaking through his briefs.
“Don’t you dare tease me tonight,” he warns, voice shaky. “That is not wifey behavior.” 
You remove your tongue, pouting and moving to press a kiss to his thigh. “You never let me tease you.” 
“I’m not patient.” Your teeth scrape the softness of his flesh and his legs twitch, knees knocking your shoulder. “Baby, I am so serious.”
Biting your bottom lip to hide a smile, you give in. You know with certainty he’d let you drag this out if you really wanted to. Seungcheol is impatient and greedy and demanding, but he also lets you do what you want when it comes down to it. 
Instead of testing his grace, you peel his briefs down, freeing his cock. Your mouth waters at his thick length, your hand automatically reaching up to grab him. You swipe your thumb through the precum gathered, using it to slide down the full length of his shaft.
Seungcheol’s hips buck. You grip him properly, working him slowly as you shuffle closer on your knees. They already hurt, hotel carpet digging into them but you ignore it in favor of watching the way his fingers slowly undo the button of his shirt, needing to shuck the fabric off. 
“You’re pretty,” you note absently. His stomach flexes when he sits up to slide his shirt off of his shoulders. He looks down at you, pupils dilated. “Very, very pretty.” 
“You’re a work of art yourself.”
Instead of laying back down flat, he leans back on his palms, letting his head fall back. Seungcheol shuts his eyes, face tilted up at the ceiling as though in prayer. “Feels good.”
Humming happily, you lean forward and slowly run the flat of your tongue up the base of his shaft. That draws a low moan out of him, his chest rising and falling as he pants. You’re fascinated by his reactions, watching his face and body language carefully as you swirl your tongue around the crown of his cock.
He’s responsive, fingers digging into the sheets in an effort not to grab your head and take control. He’s testing his patience, letting you bring him into the wet heat of your mouth at your pace, sucking lazily. 
“Fuck,” he groans. You hum around him and he shakes his head, shivering. “You’re gonna kill me.”
Good you think, setting a proper place as you swallow him down, letting your spit pool to help make the glide easier. It’s messy and wet, just the way Seungcheol likes it, his moans backtracking the slick sounds coming from your mouth.
What you can’t fit in your mouth properly, you cover with your hand, squeezing periodically as you stroke upward, meeting your stretched lips. 
“God,” Seungcheol whispers. “You know how to suck cock.”
Pulling off of him with a wet pop, you grin, feeling the sting in your mouth from the stretch. Your lips are cum and spit-slicked, sticky as you continue to stroke him. 
“Thanks,” you laugh. “I heard I’m wifey material.”
“Fucking, shit, yeah a little bit. Fuckkkk, mouth please.” 
You comply, sucking him back into your mouth. He’s putty underneath you, hips twitching off the bed a little as soft sounds drip from his mouth. You watch, totally hypnotized by the way he moved, the way his hairline gets a little sweaty as he nods, encouraging you. 
Biting his lip, he lifts a hand from the bed to grab at you, pulling you off of him. “Come here,” he growls, opening his. 
Seungcheol pulls you to him, not caring that your mouth is a mess. His tongue delves in, exploring the mixed taste of champagne and precum, hands pulling at your dress to peel it off of you. 
“Let me sit against the headboard,” he pants, breaking the kiss to scoot backward. You peel your underwear off and toss them, following him across the mattress as he settles. He pats his lap and reaches for you. “Come here, baby.” 
You settle into his lap again, mouth melding to his. His hands explore you, gripping your ass, squeezing your waist, running up your front to pinch at your nipples. You moan into his mouth, carding your fingers in his hair and pulling at the stimulation, your head tilting back a little.
He takes the opportunity to attach his lips to your throat, biting sharply and soothing the sting with his tongue. Sinking a little lower, you feel your pussy brush against his cock and you sigh, gently rolling your hips to slide your sticky folds up his shaft. 
Seungcheol groans against you, mouth feverish against your skin. He maps your throat, kissing and biting his way to your chest, where he steals a pert nipple into his mouth to give a harsh suck. You squeal and he grins, plucking at your sensitive bud with his teeth. 
Holding onto him, you let him lavish attention to your tits the way he wants, hands squeezing, tongue flicking. It feels good. Aflame, you continue to roll your hips shallowly in his waist, just giving the barest of stimulation to you both.
A hand slides between your legs, his fingers finding your swelling clit, pressing against it. You whine loudly, fighting off a violent shiver. He grins where he has your breast in his mouth, sucking generously as he lazily circles your clit with his fingers. 
“Cheol,” you whisper-whine. “You said no teasing.”
“I said no teasing me.” His fingers slide backward and dip into your entrance teasingly. You clench around nothing, aching for him to do something. “Flustered, huh?” 
“Please give me something.”
He presses his lips against the side of your jaw, grinning. “Fine.” He sinks a single finger into you and you sigh in immediate relief. It isn’t enough but it’s something, your hips rocking to take him in deeper. “Better?”
“I can take more.” 
“Of course you can.” He pushes in another finger, the stretch so good. “You’re my girl. You can take what I give you.”
Dropping your head to his shoulder, you nod. You hide your face in his flushed skin, riding his fingers as he slowly slides them home, working you gently. They press against your sensitive spot and you curse, gripping him a little tighter. 
Impatient and needing more, you grind yourself forward, fucking his hand properly. He laughs, letting you take what you need, cupping you fully so the heel of his palm grinds into your clit. Your movements are frenzied, driven by the desire for him, the feeling curling inside you. 
“Just like that,” he encourages. “Fuck yourself on my fingers just like that.” 
You do, thighs aching and body shaking. The sheets stick to your legs as you work yourself up, sweaty palms sliding against Seungcheol’s shoulders. He whispers in your ear, voice low and scratchy, adding to the building mania inside of you. 
“Shit,” you hiss, feeling the tightness in your stomach start to boil over. 
“Come on, come around my fingers. You got it.” 
His gentle voice pushes you over all the way and you clench around his fingers, coming undone. Your hips stop moving and your legs squeeze around his as you seize up. Seungcheol is having none of it, taking the lead to drive his fingers up into you as you flutter around him.
“Oh,” you gasp as he finer fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, sucking at a tender spot on your neck until you’re trembling and a mess. “Okay, okay, okay.” 
Seungcheol takes it easy on you, pulling his fingers from between your legs with a slick noise. You heave against him, catching your breath while he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks obnoxiously. 
“Mmm.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” He smacks your ass and you squeak. “Ride my cock like that?” 
Huffing, you extend to your full height on your knees. He grabs the base of his shaft, eyes fixed on the mess between your legs as you sink down slowly. His tip breaches you, both of you letting out a sound as you keep going, holding your breath as he stretches you open.
Seungcheol taps your waist. “Breathe.” 
You do, inhaling a breath as you nestle in his lap, seated fully, clenching around him. “Thanks.”
“Mhmm.” 
Seungcheol’s hands move up your sides, his eyes drinking in every inch of you. This time, you know the look in his eye is real. His gaze is covetous, looking at you like you’re his because you are. 
You catch his hands with yours, linking your finger and squeezing. He smiles, looking up at you with dark locks of hair in his face. You smile back, starting to roll your hips, using his hands to steady yourself.
Everything feels like an exposed nerve. The cool air of the hotel room brushes across your back, making you shiver. The mattress dips under your movement, your thighs flexing to keep your balance steady, Seungcheol’s grip on you helping. 
“You’re so perfect,” Seungcheol mutters, using your linked hands to pull you toward him. Your hands slip from him, going to the headboard to help lift you instead. His grip finds your waist, aiding in your movement while his mouth finds your breasts. “God these tits.” 
An ache settles in your thighs but you ignore it, chasing an orgasm. You tremble in his hold, breath punching out of you as he mumbles your name, watching you with fucked out eyes and lips parted, like you’re giving him everything he ever wanted.
You kind of feel that way. The way he looks at you isn’t that different from before, but now you’re confident in it, realizing that everything with Seungcheol felt too intimate because it was. Casual was never the right name for it, neither of you having any idea how to really be no strings attached. 
“My fucking legs hurt,” you admit, panting. “Can you take over?” 
“Mhmm.” Seungcheol surges forward, knocking you backward onto the bed. You laugh, bouncing a little as he pulls out and helps maneuver you. “Turn around for me.” 
With shaking arms, you follow his instruction. The sheets cling to you as you roll, making you huff and swat at them. He chuckles, peeling them away from your sweaty skin while you settle on your stomach, arching your ass a little. 
He palms your left cheek, groaning and dragging his blunt nails down the curve to your hip where he grabs you. “Unreal,” he whispers, to either you or himself. 
You gasp when he thrusts pack in, punching the air from your lungs as he sets a sharp pace. You jostle on the bed, grabbing the sheets and knotting your hands in them to keep you in place, a stream of whimpers leaving you. 
A hand slips up your spine, pressing flat between your shoulder blades, pushing you down further into the bed. You gasp and nod, Seungcheol taking it as a sign to put more weight into it, angling his hips so he’s fucking down into you. 
It’s hard to breathe, the dizziness taking over as your skin starts to turn to static, orgasm so close that you can feel the buzz between your legs. He keeps going like that, pinning you hard to the bed as his hips crash into yours. 
His name leaves your mouth in a cry as you squeeze around him, letting loose. He curses, picking up his pace, ignoring the wet squelch as he does, palm pressing you harder into the bed as you come. 
You think you might disintegrate, unable to do anything but make broken sounds as he chases his orgasm. Just when you think you might not get another breath, he comes, the pressure on your back lifting a little. You gasp for air, feeling the room tilt as his thrusts slow, becoming gentle. 
Seungcheol’s hands are soothing on your back, fingers dancing up and down your spine, delicate. He’s muttering something to you but you can’t hear him, the pounding of your heart far too loud, pulse rattling in your ears. 
When his hips are still, his hands keep moving. He leans over you, careful not to put his weight on you, mouth kissing across your shoulders. Your cheek is pressed flat against the sheet as you pant, coming down from a fever pitch. 
“You okay if I get up and get you water?” the question is whispered across your cheek, where Seungcheol presses a tender kiss. You nod and he kisses you again before peeling away from you. 
Laying in the bed, you drift, listening to him shuffle around to the kitchen. You’re sleepy but more aware now. When the bed dips again, you crack your eye open, watching as he navigates carefully on his knees, two glasses of water in hand. 
“Can you sit up or do you need help?” You shake your head and muster the strength you have left to sit up. Your muscles spasm as you do, a groan leaving your mouth as the room spins from the change in perspective. “You okay?”
“Thirsty,” you rasp, reaching for the glass he offers. Gulping down the cool water, you’re aware of his eyes on you, watching you drain the glass as he sips his. “Thank you.”
He takes the empty glass and kisses your lips. “Mhmm. Need more?”
“No, I’m good. I just need to sleep for five hundred years, no big deal.” 
“Damn, five hundred goes crazy. Do you think we’ll have flying cars by then?” 
Seungcheol puts both glasses on the nightstand and peels back the covers of the bed. He slips under them, patting the spot next to him. You crawl over, limbs heavy and uncoordinated. He laughs at you and you scowl, but manage to clamber in next to him, warm beneath the blankets and tucked into his chest.
“Yes, definitely. And like giant sexy holograms advertising porn, probably.”
“That’s the first thing you think of in the future? Porn?”
“Listen,” you huff, laying your head against his chest and closing your eyes. “I’m still a little champagne buzzed and you just fucked me until I couldn’t breathe for a while. Cut me slack.” 
“Sure thing, wifey.” 
“Ugh. Is that our thing now?” 
“Mhmm. Everything pre-relationship has henceforth been replaced with the relationship-only era. Pretend you have amnesia.” 
A huff of laughter leaves you. “Sure thing.” 
“I mean I feel like I have amnesia.” You give him a questioning look. He’s contemplative, staring with unseeing eyes as he plays with your fingers. “I had an entire life and habits before you, and I swear it’s like sometimes my memory actually starts with that first night at the bar.” 
“Really?”
“Yeah. You’re just around a lot and I like to think it’s always been that way. And I’m kind of sorry for taking so long to admit nothing about this was casual for me.” 
You smile. “Wasn’t for me either.” 
“Good.” He snuggles into you, settling in silence for a few moments. “Thanks for letting me win pool that first night.” 
“I did not let you win that game, oh my god.” 
“Just admit it! You wanted to taste my goodies and you let me win.” 
“I’m gonna give you some damn amnesia,” you mutter, but grin as he hugs you tight.
“Sure thing, wifey. Sure thing.” 
-
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uluvjay · 28 days
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Just the two of us-L. Norris
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Lando Norris x fem! Reader
Lando just won his second Grand Prix and all he has in his mind is getting you back to the hotel..
Warnings,: SMUT, P in v, Unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), fingering( F receiving), Cursing, teasing, edging, pretty much porn with a plot!! Prob some errors, I hope you enjoy!
You bounced on your feet next to Adam as you waited for Lando to move towards you two. The metal of the barricade pressing into your stomach as you leaned against it, watching as Lando emerged from his car.
He ran to his team first, hugging everyone that made the win possible before he made it to you and Adam.
He hugged his father close, patting his cheek as they pulled away and moved over to you. Your hands wrapped around his neck as his went around your waist.
“Congrats baby!!” You cheered, not even sure if he could hear you but the slight pat his gloved gave to your bum assured you that he caught some part of your words.
You kissed his helmet as he pulled back, catching your eyes he sent you a small wink as he turned around and began to remove his gear.
You couldn’t help the way your eyes were glued to him as he took his balaclava off, shaking his curls and running a hand through his hair.
The mullet had been doing things for you and you couldn’t wait to get him back to the hotel and into your bed.
You watched the Podium celebration before heading to his drivers room to wait for him, sitting on the small couch scrolling through Twitter liking all the supportive tweets from devoted fans.
Hearing the creek of the door your head shot up, an eyebrow inching up at the sight of your shirtless boyfriend. Trophy and shirt in one hand, while his phone rested in the other.
“Where’d your shirt go?” You laughed, moving to stand on your feet and head towards him.
“Got hot.” He shrugged, his cheeky grin pulling on his lips he sat everything down and pulled you against him.
He tucked his head into your neck, a relaxing sigh of relief coming from him as he finally got a second to be with just you.
“How are you feeling?” You asked softly, knowing he’d had himself worried about not performing well after the summer break.
“Okay, I’m glad I was able to get that win but now I’m exhausted. Can’t wait to get into bed and sleep.” He chuckled lightly.
He pulled back just enough to see your face, his eyes locked on yours as he smiled gently.
“I’m gonna shower and then we can head back?”
“Sounds good to me.” You smiled back, leaning in for what you intended to be a sweet kiss but he made quick work of moving his hand from your waist to the back of your head and pushing his lips harder against yours.
You finally pulled back at the feeling of him trying to push his tongue into your mouth, a giggle escaping you at his whine.
“Go shower big guy, that king sized bed and room service are calling my name.” You patted his chest and stepped back.
“Fineeee.” He groaned playfully, grabbing his change of clothes and heading for the small shower.
-
Opening the door to the hotel room Lando held it for you as you followed in behind him, watching as you beelined straight for the bed and plopped yourself on top.
He did his best to ignore the way the skirt of your dress flipped up showing the curve of your bum and lacy panties.
As much as he wanted nothing more than to roll your dress up and take you right then and there he could hear sleep calling his name.
He coughed as he walked past setting his things down and exchanging his jeans and T shirt for a pair of sweatpants.
“Are you changing darling?” He asked.
“Yeah, can I borrow a shirt?” You asked innocently, now sitting up to face him.
“By borrowing you mean stealing it and me never seeing it again?” He laughed as he picked you one from his suitcase.
“You’ll see it again..it’ll just be In my drawers rather than yours.” You smirked.
Lando handed you the quadrant shirt, watching as you stood on your feet and slipped off the sandals you’d picked for the day before pulling the sun dress over your head, bra quickly following as they both hit the floor.
He gulped at the way your breasts hardened from the cold breeze in the room, goosebumps covering your skin before you quickly pulled the dark shirt over your head.
“You okay?” You smirked when you caught his stare.
“Mhm, yeah.” He coughed turning away from you as he adjusted his pants to hide the now very prominent boner.
You shook your head at his antics, picking up your clothes from the floor and moving to put them in your own suitcase.
“What do you wanna get to eat?” You questioned after finding a comfortable spot on the bed, Lando climbing in right next to you with the tv remote in hand.
“You can order whatever, I’ll eat anything right now.” He laughed.
You could tell he was trying to act normal despite his tense shoulders, his eyes constantly dropping to your bare thighs that were just inches from his.
You nodded in reply, reaching across the bed for the room phone making sure the shirt you sported rose up more than usual letting him get a glimpse of your panties.
You heard the small groan he let out, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you played your games with him.
You returned to your spot next to him after ordering you both some pasta, wine, and dessert.
Lando was now laying against the headboard, his lower abdomen under the heavy duvet, you slid under it as well cuddling into his side as his arm moved to wrap around your shoulder.
“How long did they say?” He asked.
“About 45 minutes.” You replied softly.
He nodded in return his eyes glued to the show he’d picked, you decided to behave for a little allowing the both of you some time to fully relax before you started up again.
You could sense he was tired and needed some time to relax but as you counted down the minutes till the food was set to arrive you couldn’t help yourself as your hand moved from his lap to his stomach.
Truthfully he didn’t even notice your moves at first, not thinking much about your hand moving against his skin. That was until he felt your cold fingers beginning to trace the waistband of his pants.
A sharp gasp echoing from him when he felt your hand finally slip under the elastic of both his pants and boxers, his hand that rested behind you gripping the material of your shirt as pleasure begin to flow through him.
“Fuck.” He whimpered as you pumped him slowly, thumb moving around the swollen head of his cock.
His chest began to heave as he felt his orgasm getting closer and closer with every stroke of your soft hand he felt the world slipping away.
You watched as his head tipped back, soft curls tickling his forehead as beads of sweat began to gather at his hair line.
His sounds picked up, soft whimpers becoming moans as he was on the brink of his orgasm. It wouldn’t take much more to get him to cum and you knew it, flexing your wrist a bit more you had him ready until a knock on the door had you stopping your movements.
“Room service!” A woman called from outside.
“Foods here!” You smirked evilly, withdrawing your hand from his pants Lando let out a pained whimper at the loss of contact.
He stayed glued in his position watching you open the door and grab the cart from the Lady, thanking her politely before pulling it into the room and shutting the door.
He watched as you moved around as if he wasn’t even there, as if you didn’t just have him moaning and gasping on the brink of an orgasm with your hands shoved in his pants.
“Baby?!” He called catching your attention.
“Huh?”
“What the hell was that?” He exclaimed, voice shaky despite his attempted sternness.
“What was what?” You asked dumbly, eyes showing nothing but fake innocence.
He stood up at that, marching to where you stood he’d had enough. He allowed you to play your little game long enough, he was tired when you two got back not really feeling like sex was in the cards but now you had him wide awake and ready.
Reaching you he didn’t hesitate wrapping a strong hand around the base of your throat, the twinkle he saw in your eyes and the way you did your best to hide your smirk had him realizing this was exactly what you wanted.
“I’m not playing this damn game anymore Y/n.” He spat, “get your ass on the bed.”
“What about the foo-“ I don’t give a fuck about the food, on the bed.”
His shoulders relaxed when you quickly obeyed and took off towards the bed, with a sway to your hips and slight pep in your step he knew you were ready.
Stripping from his pants and boxers he made sure you were watching his movements, he made his way back to his side of the bed resuming his earlier position.
“Come here.” He called and you did as he asked.
Moving to his lap you cried out when he pushed your panties to the side, thick fingers running through your folds.
“Look at that, you’re absolutely soaked.” He scoffed, fingers continuing their slow and steady movements.
“That little game of yours get you like this baby? Getting me to the edge and stopping?”
You nodded pathetically at his words, the pleasure of his hands beginning to cloud your brain, hand reaching for his shoulder to steady yourself as your knees got shaky.
“Getting close love?” He smirked up at you, watching the way your chest heaved just like his had, how your hands were balled up just like his, your sounds getting louder by the second.
“Yes! Fuck yes.” You panted, hazy eyes locking with his.
You could feel it, it was right there all it would take was a few more strokes of his talented fingers but right as you felt yourself at the cusp everything went away.
“No, no, no, Lando please.” You begged trying to grab his hand but his reflexes were too quick for you.
He laughed, he actually laughed at you. His chest moving slightly as he put on a faux pout for you, his bottom lip sticking out as he cupped your cheek.
“Sucks doesn’t it baby?” He asked, his eyes now holding the evil look.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you. Will you please make me cum?” You pleaded with the Brit, giving him your best puppy eyes.
“Hmm I don’t know..don’t know if you deserve it.” He spoke, voice dripping with a seductive venom.
“Please baby, I’ll be good I promise. Just want to cum and to make you cum.” You tried, scooting closer to him.
His large hands found a home on your hips gripping them tight, he pulled you down a bit to rub your dripping center over the tip of his angry cock.
Twin gasps escaping both of you at the bone chilling feeling, your nails digging into his skin as his dug into the material of his shirt you still wore.
He guided you until his cock was resting right against your hole, eyes locked on your face as you slid down on him.
Lando swore there was no better sight then the way your mouth dropped open in a silent moan, the air getting knocked from your lungs as you took him all the way, stopping once you reached the base of his cock for a second to adjust to his length and thickness.
“Fuck.” He breathed, hands dropping to cup your plump ass cheeks.
He moved you back and forth slowly, a hot cry leaving you as the mixed pleasure of him hitting so deep and your clip rubbing against his pelvis.
His own head dropped back at the pleasure, feet planting themselves on the bed as he began to thrust up into you.
Your body falling against his completely as you cried out wordless moans, the lingering tension from your missed orgasm adding onto the already powerful pleasure.
Lando could feel his own body quivering at the pleasure, his abs tightening with each thrust, doing his best to hold himself off until you came for him.
“Doing so fucking good baby.” He groaned out, pulling your face out of his neck he locked your lips in a hot kiss, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip dragging another moan from you.
“Shit Lando.” You cried, arms wrapping around his neck as you held eye contact, beginning to rock your hips to match his thrusts.
Hearing your breath hitch with every thrust mixed with the way your cunt hugged his cock he could tell you were close, his lips moving to kiss the spot below your ear.
“I want you to come for me now, can you do that baby?” He cooed in your ear, basking in the whine that left your lips at his words.
“Uh huh” you babbled to him, hips moving faster as you chased your high.
“Good girl.”
Those two words were all it took to finally push you over the edge, your mouth dropping into a silent scream as your body shook against his.
He fucked you through your high, his sharp and steady thrusts never stopping even as your moans of overstimulation picked up.
“Lando! Fuck, I can’t take anymore.” You cried, hands tangling into his curls.
“I’m almost there love, just need you to be a good girl for me.” He panted, his hips begging to stutter as he felt his climax strongly approaching.
“Come for me champ, fill me up.” You spoke in his ear just like he had for you.
He groaned at your words, his grip on you tight as he thrusted a few more times before finally coming to a halt with a deep groan.
His spent body dropped back against the headboard as you laid on his chest, his hand coming to stroke your hair as you both came down from your highs.
After a few moments of silence he finally spoke up, “Well that was some celebration sex for sure.”
You both laughed as you slapped his chest lightly, “shut up.”
It was silent for a little while longer until he tapped your bum twice, “We gotta get you cleaned up.”
You groaned at his words not sure if you were even capable of moving let alone standing on your legs right now.
“I know, I know but we need to eat some food too.” He cooed and you couldn’t argue with that as the scent of the pasta across the room hit your nose.
Shifting to straddle him again you whimpered at the overstimulation, taking a deep breath before you pulled off of him.
A groan falling from Lando as he watched a mixture of your releases land on his softening cock, he placed a sharp swat to your ass when he saw a smirk itching to tug at your lips.
“Keep it up and I’ll fuck yoy even harder in the shower.”
“Promise?”
-
2K notes · View notes
kissitbttr · 1 year
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miguel can’t help it when you’re wearing his clothes
summary: miguel o’hara x f!reader
warning: 18+ stuff but not too overboard
-
miguel is trying really hard to concentrate. he really is.
being a superhero and the leader of spider society is not an easy task. sometimes he’d go days without sleeping. you can either find him at his office or the gym doing his daily workouts because that’s the only place he can take his stress out.
days of scanning over reports and the hours he put in to enhance the new spiderman suit should not go to waste. his eyes are tracking back and forth to the amount of papers scatter all over the table. not to mention a kid he has to take care of named ‘miles morales’ added to his list is almost enough to make his brain explode.
but how could he focus on his work when you’re standing five feet away from him? fixing yourself up a small snack in the kitchen with nothing but his t-shirt and his boxers.
his greedy eyes running through your body shamelessly, finding himself getting lost in his thoughts and he has to snap himself out of it a few times otherwise he won’t be able to finish off all the reports that must be done that night.
yet, he can’t help but admire the way your curves are accentuated by his shorts. how your thick thighs and plump ass filling them in instead of it being too big on you. the way your soft cheeks are slightly peeking underneath the grey cotton material,
he grunts a low ‘fuck me’ when he sees you bending over to put the cookies in the oven. are you doing this on purpose?
had enough of the distraction you’re giving, he slams a folder down and turns his attention on you. “mi vida, can you please don’t stand like that?”
“huh?” you cock an eyebrow, confused to what makes this grumpy man scolding you at this hour. “what’d i do?” you crane your neck to look over at him, with a frown look on his handsome features.
“you! ay dios mio you’re making me hard to focus here! i have so much work to do and you’re being a distraction.”
licking off a cookie dough off your finger, you put your hands on your hips. “how am i being distracting?! I’m literally just standing here making cookies!”
“you know what it does to me when you’re wearing my clothes, mami. I can’t control it. please please stand at least ten feet away.”
“oh?” your voice sounds playful. a small smirk graces upon your lips as you tip toe around the counter to get closer to him.
he knows what you’re up to.
shaking his head in disapproval, he put his large hand up and looking away. “para por favor, cariño. i know what you’re about to do and i cannot afford any distractions right now. stay right where you are.”
“hmm, no.” you giggle, walking towards where he is and you can hear him groan slightly. “whatchu doooing?”
he smiles a bit at that. no matter what you do, he can’t get mad at you. it feels like you put a spell on him or something, he can’t work it out. but he doesn’t complain at all.
he’d break jaws and tear down the fucking universe for you.
he admires the way your thighs rub against each other when you walk, jiggling slightly before you manage to sit yourself comfortably beside him. tucking your legs underneath your butt and make your legs look even thicker
miguel lean himself back a little while his fingers go up against your cheek, grazing it ever so softly. his smile grows when you peck him on the lips.
“how you doing, papi?” you ask, removing a strand of hair from his forehead. “are you feeling okay? you’ve been working far too hard lately, I’m worried.”
he sighs in pure bliss when you run your fingers softly underneath his scalp. feeling himself melt away against your touch.
“always better when you’re around me, mi amor. but you know you can’t be wearing that anymore when I’m working.”
he has to hold back the urge to pick you up and fuck you against the wall when you pout at him.
“you like seeing me in your clothes”
“que sí, baby. but your ass is distracting me far too much in that when I’m working, you know how i get when i see you wearing my boxers. I can’t contain it.” he responds, large hand coming up to rub your exposed thigh, finger toying with the loose hem of his shorts,
“theeen, maybe it’s a sign you should take a break” you suggest, tilting your head lightly. “come play with me, miggy,”
he swears he almost cum right there and then when you say it.
“i will, baby. i promise. but i gotta finish this first, yeah?” his eyes bore into yours as he promises. he wants so badly to leave his work but he knows he can’t. not right now.
with a small huff, you nod. “fine. I’ll wait.”
“good girl.” he leans forward to kiss you again on the lips. “just a few more minutes, yeah?”
“yeah yeah.” you say, “don’t forget to eat. please don’t skip it this time. dinner is on the table, I’ve prepared it for you. also there’s some leftover brownies for dessert if you want it, papi.”
“what do you mean? I’m looking at my full course meal right now, cariño.”
you roll your eyes playfully, blushing a bit as you smile at him. he’s giving you that infamous smirk of his with his eyebrow raising. showing you he’s not playing when he says that,
“aish. such a sweet talker you are. be quick baby” you shake your head, standing up from the couch before heading to the bedroom with your fingers fixing down his shorts to cover it more. your ass moves from side to side as he watches.
god, he fucking loves to see you walk away.
-
a/n: i will give him kids enough to create a football team
9K notes · View notes
highvern · 3 months
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Whatever You Like
Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x f!reader
Genre: smut, fluff
warnings: sex tape, oral sex, dacryphilia, spitting, anal play, facial, praise kink, manhandling, unprotected sex/creampie, dom/brat dynamics (sir kink), sex toys, double penetration, spanking/clit slapping, dad cheol
Length: ~ 6.1k
Note: any complaints can be directed to @bitchlessdino for thinking cheol would be the type to film an amateur sex tape. ceremonial mention of @gyuswhore for beta reading and encouraging this tom foolery. also @wooahaeproductions and @millennial-fangirl t agging @wonustars @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for more fun
summary: Your husband takes his birthday more seriously than anyone you know. When he's scheduled for a business trip across the country, forcing you two to celebrate apart for the first time in your entire relationship, you decide to get creative with his gifts this year. Can be read as a stand alone or a continuation of Freak Like Me!
m.list
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“I hate it,” your husband announces before collapsing on top of you.
Seungcheol is always pouting about something. He’s dramatic by nature, a classic whiner. He does it for attention. Your attention. 
 It is a business trip out of the country for two weeks. He hates it because his birthday is in the middle of it. 
Since the dawn of your relationship, birthdays are spent naked in bed for hours followed by fancy dinners and gifts (despite your objection he’s all you need) and more domestic love making that left both of you sore for days. 
This will be the first birthday in eight years you’ll spend apart. And with how serious Seungcheol takes his birthday, it’s more devastating than the six months you spent long distance after college.
“I know, baby,” you coo. “We can celebrate when you get home though. Go to that steakhouse downtown you like.”
“But I want to spend it with you. I always spend it with you.” He shivers as you rake a hand through his hair, nails scratching just right to make him weak.
“One birthday isn’t gonna kill you. Promise.”
“You don’t know that. People die of broken hearts all the time.”
“Oh my god,” you snort. “I’m not leaving you, you’re going away for two weeks. On a promotion trip you begged for.”
“What if I became a trophy husband?”
“You’re too bougie for that. We’d end up homeless.”
All of his complaints prove he’s unaware of your scheming. The second he shared the news, you set to work.
The guest list for a surprise barbecue two days before he flies out is confirmed; custom cufflinks he’d been planning to buy himself tucked away under extra sheets in the guest room; white lingerie that’ll remind him of your wedding night already in the mail, set to arrive while he’s gone to enjoy upon return. 
But there’s one thing for him to take on his trip. A consolation prize for  missing each other on  one of the most important days of the year (tied with your birthday and just above your anniversary).
You’ve taken videos and pictures of yourself in varying states of ruin for Seungcheol’s enjoyment. He’s done the same. Flashes of his fist covered in cum in the dim light of his room back when you didn’t cohabitate. Videos of him jerking off, rambling about all the things he’d do to you.
He’s only ever admitted it once. A fantasy he keeps tucked away, bubbling just under the surface. It’d been almost two years ago when drunkenness threw inhibitions to the wind (along with the way his cock stretched your throat) that Seungcheol, without much thought to the matter, admitted how badly he wanted to film it. Film you, mouth full of him, cum spilling across your lips, eyes watering. 
Neither of you mentioned it again afterwards but the idea stayed firmly planted in your subconscious. 
And what better occasion to make your on screen debut than your husband’s birthday?
“I do have one idea…to make up for you being gone.” You say, smoothing down the back of his shirt. “For both of us, really.”
“And what is that Mrs. Choi?”
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Okay,” he huffs with amusement. “I can pencil that in.”
“I wasn’t done yet.” You force him off your chest into a cushion, taking over the prime real estate of his lap. “I want to make a sex tape.”
“What?”
“So you can watch it whenever you miss me during your trip.”
“Baby, you don’t have too—”
“I want to.” You nod. “Honestly more for me than you but I thought it’d be a nice birthday present.”
“Are you serious?”
“Mhm.”
“Shit, okay.” He takes a breath, calming down the need growing in his chest. “Tonight?”
“No, I’ve gotta get some stuff.” You kiss his neck just to tease him, chest to chest with a grind back into his crotch because he’s your husband and you can.
His chin tips back to give you space, fingers twitching at your waist thinking of all the possibilities. “What kind of stuff are we talking about?”
“It’s not a surprise if I tell you.”
“But it’s for my birthday,” he argues.
“Perfect time for surprises then, isn’t it?” You hop off him and beeline for the shower, his footsteps barely a second behind.
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Based on aesthetics alone, you’d pass for one of those amatuer porn couples; you wrapped in Seungcheol’s favorite pair of panties sans bra, him half naked with sweatpants low on his waist. A lamp casts the room in a dull warm glow that you hope will soften the unforgiving quality of the camera.
Seungcheol is meticulous. If he had it his way then the professional grade camera he got for Christmas would be catching every minute detail but you draw the line at feeling too much like a porn star. Instead it's a cheap tripod you ordered online hastily and his phone.
Watching him focus so intently gets you hot; the flex of muscles from his fingers to the bare skin of his chest, hair falling in his face as he balances it on the chair dragged in from the dining room. Your pulse races while you model on the bed for him; testing every angle and position he directs you into with heat in your gaze.
“We really should have done this sooner. Holy shit,” he mumbles.
“Looks good?” you ask over your shoulder, ass high in the air with a painful arch.
He grabs one of your cheeks with force, fingers digging into the curve and spreading you bare. “You look amazing.”
“Stop, you'll make me blush.” Empty words because you bend up at the waist, chest on show for later viewing.
“My wife asked me to film a porno for my birthday. I’ll say whatever I want, thank you very much.” He palms whatever he can reach, tweaking your nipples until they ache into peaks.
“Speaking of,” you sigh. “There’s a few more surprises, birthday boy.’
“Really?” 
Popping up, you plant a lazy kiss to his mouth, licking lewd intentions across his teeth. “In the top drawer of the dresser.”
Living alone means all the fun toys are kept in easy reach. The drawer is dedicated space for vibrators, dildos, butt plugs, paddles and whatever other random goodies collected over the years. So to have something not in your collection already makes him rush over to find out exactly what you’ve been so secretive about the past few days.
Seungcheol pulls out the silver bag, approaching the bed once again before separating the tissue paper to find what's inside.
“Are you serious?” he asks. 
Leather handcuffs dangle from his hold. Red with silver hardware. The kind with clips so he can tie you up anyway he wants. And maybe later, anyway you want to tie him up too.
“I am,” you smile, kissing across his chest. “There’s more in there.”
He digs back in, easily finding the slip of red silk.
“Babe…” he breaths. 
You kiss away his next words, soft and indulgent; a gross amount of tongue that comes with years of partnership. Both of you get lost in it, hands roaming, warming from the inside out. Seungcheol sucks on that spot below your jaw, a handful of ass threatening to distract you from the original purpose of tonight.
“I want you to do whatever you want to me,” you whisper pathetically only for him to hear, already forgetting the camera a few feet away.
Nostrils flaring, he watches as you mouth down his front. “You think I want to tie you up and blindfold you?” He’s cocky now; plain on his face how much the idea turns him on.
You slip to your knees on the floor, palm molded to his cock already plumping at the idea. “I think you wanna show me who is in charge.” 
Seungcheol sizes up your offer. The way you look up at him with an innocent expression like you aren’t mouthing over the tented crotch of his pants. “Then take my cock out like a good girl.”
You force his sweats down with eager glee as Seungcheol starts recording above. You're in your element between his thighs, a place you excel with minimal direction. With the ideas you’ve planted in his head, you won’t have to do much to get him off.
Gentle kisses along his thighs make his stomach dip. “Can I use my mouth?”
“Not yet.” Seungcheol shakes. “You’ll taste it plenty later. Use your hand.”
You rub his cock with a spit slick grip, mouth watering for the familiar flavor of his spend promised later. The tip of his cock shines in the low light. It’s quiet except for the dirty wet squelch and his already labored breath. You could get off to this alone. A hand between your thighs as you jerk him to completion until he paints your chest white. You suck your lip between your teeth at the thought.
“Look here.” He’s holding his phone near his chin, recording the crazed gleam in your eye. The blindfold rests in his other hand, forcing it into your empty one. “Put it on.”
An easy command leaving you riddled with anticipation. Without vision, there's no telling what his next move is. Giving Seungcheol the power to do whatever he pleases. Every time you’ve given him power, he’s made it worth your while and then some. Now won’t be different. He cups your face, thumb spreading your lips until you suck with a moan. And as quick as it came, the heat is gone.
It’s replaced by the prod of his cock against your cheek. He slaps it against your chin, a hot wet trail against the seam of your lips you eagerly lick away once he moves again. His dick rubs across your face lazily, degrading and dirty. Just how you like it.
You kiss whatever comes in reach; the vein webbing the underside, the head, his balls. Anything he’ll give you, you’ll take.
“Open your mouth.” Seungcheol taps it against your chin once again. He doesn’t let you suck him in immediately, giving you an inch before moving away only to repeat the motion over again. “Stick your tongue out.”
You do without hesitation, messy already. He forces the tip into the flat of it. A flood of his taste serving as a precursor until he gives you more.
You like to show off under normal circumstances and with a camera in the mix, you’re edged to the side of debauchery. Seungcheol’s cock is heavy on your tongue; an easy slide to the back of your throat with little resistance. You stroke him into your mouth, tongue lashing against the slit in the head. His thighs tense under your nails with a good choke before you pull off.
“Looks good?” You ask, hand replacing your mouth.
“Fucking perfect.” Seungcheol guides you back down with a hand on the crown of your head. With new leverage comes more thrusts but you take each in stride. Precum mixes with spit, dribbling out the corners of your mouth and down your chin. “God, so good to my cock. Feel so good like this.”
You make it sloppy, throat tightening in a loud gag. He hisses your name when you manage to take another inch from his praise. His weight sinks into your throat; holding there until you grow dizzy from lack of air. 
“Gonna cum,” he hisses. “Where do you want it?”
“On my face, come on my face.” You gasp for a quick breath before taking him again. 
He’s close, bucking into your mouth with renewed vigor from something so dirty. “Want me to cover your pretty face in my cum?”
The vibrations of your moan make his hips kick again. You bottom out with a choke, wet eyes hidden beneath silk. Another swallow, more tongue against the slit until he gives a shaky jerk.
“F-fuck, okay.” Seungcheol pulls himself away, fisting his length. “Stick out your tongue again. Shit, shit.”
He goes for show rather than convenience, painting your chin and cheeks in messy streaks. At least your eyes are safe from any errant drips. You suck him back in, tongue collecting whatever stuck to the head.
“Look so pretty like this,” he coos, slapping his cock against your tongue with the last few drips.
Years together means Seungcheol knows your game. In the distraction of getting him off, you snuck a hand between your legs, rutting against it pathetically. He let you get away with it far too long not to notice and now you’ll pay the price.
He kicks your thighs apart, leaving you without a hint of relief. A rough grip at the back of your neck pulls you away without warning. “You touch yourself when I tell you to. Got that?” 
Even with cum cooling on your skin, you still want more. “Sorry, sir.” 
A harsh exhale is all the warning you get before you're pulled to your feet. It doesn’t last long. Bent over the mattress, you're prone to a swift slap against the back of your thigh. Predictable. You know exactly what that word does to him; how it drives him up the wall. The last time you called him ‘sir’ he made you come so many times you couldn’t walk the next day.
“You’re gonna be,” he threatens with another swat before wrestling your wrists together at the dip of your spine. 
The cuffs link together easily. After testing their strength with a few gentle tugs, you’re left completely helpless to whatever your husband desires. Limp like a rag doll for his use. With the blindfold and the restraints, he’s got you at his mercy. It only drives you to act out more.
“Are you gonna spank me for being a bad girl, sir?” you goad, smile hidden in the sheets. A wiggle of your ass back into his hold to tease. You’re punished with another sting on the opposite thigh, then another and another. Each knots your stomach as you whine from the burn. The thought of the camera catching you, bent over, tied up, and covered in cum makes your insides warm with need. “That’s all you got?”
He answers with silence; a tense while he calculates. His hand squeezes across your heated skin, mindful of how much he gives you even when you challenge his authority like you weren’t asking for it.
The sound of ripping fabric fills your ears. Cool air rushes against the seat of your ass. You brace for another slap, prepared for it on the round of your ass. But Seungcheol likes to keep you on your toes.
The impact stings your clit, thighs trembling because it hurts in the best way. His fingers stay flat to roughly work you into weak submission. You barely register the cold lube dripping between your cheeks to ease Seungcheol’s fingers easing at your entrance. 
“That's all you got?” he mocks. “I swear one of these days I’m gonna fuck your throat until you can’t talk back.”
Your breath hitches at he fucks you open with two fingers, an embarrassingly easy stretch. “Could do it right now.”
“I’ve got other plans.” He rubs your insides raw, the sick squelch ringing in your ears. A calculating curl forces a twitch into your legs. All your weak spots are his playthings, until your nails bite into the meat of your palm from how well he works them.
“Like?” Your breath hitches with the next rush of his fingers. Even more when he spits on your hole and rubs the stiffness of his dick into the mess just to be nasty.
“No point of the blindfold if I tell you everything anyway.” 
“Seungcheol.” You shudder as he wedges a third finger inside.
He’s on his knees, chest hot against the back of your thighs, peppering soft kisses across your ass like he’s apologizing for the brand of his hand you’ll certainly feel tomorrow. You reposition to take him; legs spread, thighs stained with arousal from anticipation. Palms push against your legs to stretch further and  give the camera a good view. 
The tear in your underwear gives him plenty of room to work with but he’s also a show off, putting all the muscles he’s worked so hard for to use by ripping the remaining lace clean off with rough enthusiasm. They fall slack around your knees.
“Wish you could see how pretty your pussy looks spread around my fingers.” 
“I will when I watch this while you're gone.”
“Gonna touch yourself to this? Seeing yourself get fucked?” His fingers hit that spot inside you. The one that punches air from your lungs and breaks you in half with limited coaxing.
“Yeah, might hu—shit—hump your pillow while I do it.”
Unlocking the cuffs, you sag in relief, straining muscles relaxing after being bound for so long. Seungcheol flips you on your back and locks them back in place over your stomach. 
“Fuck yourself on my face then. Show me how much you want it and I’ll let you come.” He bites, tongue flattening in time with the return of his fingers. The camera must be somewhere else. Probably back on the chair at the side of the bed. 
You do as he asks; feet planted on the bed as you curl into the pleasure, humping his face. A staccato lap of his tongue gets you started, wearing against the stiffness of your clit. You arch into it, unperturbed by the ache across your body. Seungcheol latches tight; sucking until your vision spots.
“Oh my god,” you hum; nerves fuzzy in your core from so much stimulation. He lets you grip a tight fist in his hair, keeping him still so you can ride his tongue. 
“Come for me. All over my face like a good girl. That’s what you are right?” His fingers hit deeper. Gives you as much as you can possibly take. “My good girl?”
“I am, I–fuck, fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Your orgasm rushes like a tsunami. It drowns you into utter silence, choked and shaking. You might fizzle away into nothing from the inside out. Seungcheol shoves your legs open to work you through it, dragging out every last inch until you kick at his stomach for a break. “Oh my god.”
“Good?” He smirks, chuckling when you jump at a cruel lick at your clit.
“Asshole,” you knee him in the side without much bite, focusing on catching your breath.
He sucks a bruise into your thigh because he can, pulling away to admire his work before speaking again. “Done or do you wanna keep going?” 
“Want you to fuck me,” you sigh. The emptiness consumes your brain, making you impatient for what happens next.
He licks his way up your stomach, sucking a nipple between his teeth while the other grows sensitive between his fingers. “How?”
Drawn out from your previous orgasm, sink pliant into the cushion of the mattress. “However you want.”
“What if I wanna fuck you…right…here.” His thumb digs into your asshole, wet with spit and the obscene accumulation of your own arousal.
“Fuck, yes.” You nod pathetically. “Fuck my ass.”
The sick bastard laughs at your desperation like it's a cruel joke. “Not tonight. Maybe next time I’ll take a video of you taking my cock in your ass and one of your dildos in that tight little pussy. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“You can fuck my pussy with both right now.”
“You’d want that?” His teeth bruise your nipple, hand dipping between your legs with no regard for your sensitivity. “God, you’re nasty.” 
“It'd be so hot,” you mumble. The jitters in your muscles haven’t faded yet you're already hungry for more. 
He leaves a kiss on your sternum before standing, footsteps padding against the floor towards the dresser. If he has any sense he’ll grab the one that perfectly resembles his cock. What once was a dirty gift exchange gag gift, now his favorite toy to watch you get off with.
“You sure?”
He’s sweet. But you don’t want him to be nice; you want him to dangle your pleasure in front of you and snatch it away when you get too close. “I’m pretty sure your phone is running out of space, so get to work big boy.”
When he comes back the blindfold is ripped away. Sweat beads on his forehead, hair wild, and skin pinked. Cock wet with a sticky mix of fluids, heavy against his thigh. He’s sexy like this. Based on how crazed he looks, you can only imagine yourself. And now you have it all caught on video.
“Hold this.” He shoves the phone into your grasp. “Film yourself getting fucked.”
The dildo is soaked in more lube; obscenely so. Enough to ruin the sheets and maybe the mattress but it looks good on the screen as he works it inside you until the base is flush with your pelvis. On the brink of breaking apart from just a clone of his dick, he fucks you nice and slow with it. A tedious grind into the heat of your core. Insides tightening but still missing something.
“What’s wrong baby?” he grins, fingers wedging inside around the edges. If you’re planning to take two cocks, he’ll make sure you’re prepped. “Tapping out on me already? Haven’t even put my cock in and you’re already whining.”
“Feels good.” You grit your teeth at his cockiness. This is for his birthday and if he wants you to be a pathetic mess for him, you indulge. “Fuck me harder with it.”
“Yeah? Imagine how it’ll feel when I fuck you with both. Stuffed until you can’t take it.”
“Kiss me,” you whine. You need something to distract from the visual of being split on two cocks before you explode. 
He does just that. A confusing mix of tender want compared to the vigor between your legs. Your hips grind on their own accord, tingling from his fingers torturing your clit in time.
“I love you,” Seungcheol sighs. “Fuck yourself on it. Show me how good you take it, yeah?”
You rock your hips into it the best you can, fumbling to keep his mouth firm against your own. A lazy rut but he won’t complain after all you’ve given him already.
The phone ends up back on the chair for now. Seungcheol doesn’t bother making sure either of you are in frame, trusting that whatever is getting caught will be hot enough even if it's just the sounds of fried vocal cords and the wet slap of skin on skin.
“Think you’re ready?”
“Mmm, give it to me. Let me feel your fat cock inside me.”
“You’re so needy.” 
Your thighs begin to ache from being spread to accommodate him but it’s easily drowned out by the head of his cock breaching your entrance.
“Oh,” you gasp. It’s not something you’d ever be able to describe. A stretch bordering on pain but nothing more lube, Seungcheol’s patience, and some deep breathing can’t fix. 
“Does it hurt?”
“No, just…really full. Wow.” You breathe, the pressure in your gut limiting everything to just this. It’s not an easy slide like the dildo, it’s more than you’ve ever felt. “Go slow, I can take it.”
He sinks deeper, another inch before stopping and pulling back out; restricted ruts making your teeth clench. You need a distraction. Something to keep your attention away from how uncomfortable it is. You want nothing more than to be stuffed as far as you can take it, but getting there might take a while.
And because your husband can always manage to read your mind, he flattens to your chest, mouth meeting your own in a dirty kiss that makes you blush more than the two cocks wedged inside you. “Feel good for you?”
“Tight.” 
“I’m always tight,” you taunt.
“Tighter. Wet too, fuck,” he grunts. A kick of his hips you're woefully unprepared for knocks you out of orbit. “Look so pretty taking my cock like this. Stuffed so full. So fucking tight.”
A punch to the gut from how deep his voice sounds. Seungcheol is better at keeping up the facade of nonchalance than you but it’s betrayed in the detail: shaky hands, red ears, glazed eyes. 
“God, you’re so big. Feel like you’re gonna tear me in half.”
“Really know how to treat a man, don’t you?” he laughs, pained. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“Thinking about what you said earlier. Fucking my ass and my pussy at the same time.”
“You’d like that?” Seungcheol pants driving a little bit deeper.
“Yeah.” You melt in his hold. His cock in your ass is a special treat you like to indulge in whenever possible. “We can film that too.”
He fucks you with calculated grinds; slow until you beg him not to be. This is for you as much as it is for him and Seungcheol will only enjoy it if you are too, even if his cock is being squeezed to death.
“Is it in all the way?”
“Not even close, babe.” He coos, a sticky lube covered thumb brushing your cheek. “Relax.”
“Take two dicks inside you and see how well you relax.”
“I’m not the cock champ here, am I?”
“Just touch me. Please.”  He skates that same hand between your legs, gentle circles on your nub while sinking deeper and deeper. Your stomach caves when he adds more pressure. “Fuck, right there.”
It’s the permission he needs to spread you prone, knees up to your chest to give you more. “Can you keep touching yourself for me? Play with that pretty little pussy for me?” 
“Yes, sir.” You rub weak circles on your clit, range of motion limited from the handcuffs. 
He abandons his grip on the silicon to twist your nipple. “Watch it.”
“Or what?”
“Say it again and I’ll make you ride this dildo while I fuck your mouth again.” He grunts, nudging your cervix to remind whose mercy you're under.
“But then you won’t get to see me take your hot load like a good girl.” You glow warmly with his choked expression. 
“G-good—god—what kind of good girl talks about having her pussy filled?”
“The kind that wants you to spit in her mouth,” you beg. 
“Then stick your tongue out.” He’s in a frenzy from how desperate you are. Thighs squeezing at the command, you do what he asks and are rewarded with the sick wet of his spit against the back of your throat.
You don’t get a chance to ask for another round. Seungcheol flips you on your front, face to face with the camera lens. Two of his fingers, the ones that taste like your cunt, hook into your mouth. Sucking them deep, you lap against them like their his cock; eager for the camera to catch the depraved need to be used that only he can inspire.
“Feels good?”
“So good,” you garble. “I love when you fuck me.”
“Yeah? Pussy was made for me, wasn’t it? All for me?” His voice jumps, cock twitching when you clench around him despite everything he’s giving you.
“All for you.”
“Gonna take my cum? Let me fill you up? That's what you want, don’t you? To be my pretty little cum dump?” He bites your ear lobe, fisting the hair at the crown of your head when you fall forward. “Look at the camera, baby.”
Wild jerks of his hips manage to force you to take him deeper, the head of his cock nestled further into your walls. All you can manage is a pathetic whine in answer to his questions. “Oh god, Seungcheol.”
He builds the pace, slow enough not to tear you in half but what he restrains in his rhythm he makes up for with harsh curls into the back of your throat. Each vein and ridge imprints into your core, more depravity. 
You can feel it, from the tips of your toes to the crown of your skull; the ebb of another orgasm. Seungcheol sinks the full weight of his hips inside you, taking the chance to fuck you with the dildo instead.
The comforter greets your face, Seungcheol abandoning his grip on your hair to land another round of punishing swats on your ass. It takes everything in you to keep your head up, for you both to play back later and see how nasty you are for each other. You want your husband to know what you look like when he fucks you in half, how your eyes water and lip threatens to split under the clamp of your teeth.
“Gonna cum,” he groans. His chest seals against your back, pathetic ruts into your stinging ass. It barely lasts. A ploy to grab the camera again for a cumshot. You let your face drop into the mattress, arching for the best view he’ll ever get. “Gonna ruin this pussy.” 
“Do it.” 
He removes the dildo, focusing on how you still manage to cling to his cock after being full for so long. It frees his hand to curl under your hip and pinch your clit until you scream. “Want you to come again. Come on my cock and I’ll give you what you want.” 
There’s no slow build. A sprint to the finish at the hands of your lover, you twitch in his hold, mind vacant except for what he asks. Nothing but the need to come on his cock. The wet echo of skin slapping as he fucks you harder now without the threat of breaking you. 
“I’m—close, fuck. Fuck!” You cry. Wetting his cock, you flail against the bed because Seungcheol is a cruel bastard that drags you so thin when you’re weak. A few more harsh drags on your clit, stomach sinking in half, and he’s letting you go. It’s weaker than the first but enough for Seungcheol to give in.
“Gonna cum for you,” he hisses, shivering. You milk him for all he’s worth. Taking the warm flood along your insides that keeps coming, each thrust gushing excess around the base of his cock. 
He pulls out and you nearly sob. It’s a vulnerable feeling to be empty after taking a beating to your pussy, one Seungcheol doeesn’t let you marinate in because he’s still filming. And that means playing with the mess of your cunt while giving the camera a front row seat. A few thrust of the dildo coated in a sheen of your insides and cum has him cursing like nothing hotter has ever existed. You feel open and used, messy. “Push it out for me.”
Whatever trickles out, he fucks right back in. The aftershocks of your second orgasm numb it all. Like you're underwater and Seungcheol is at the surface. Muffled.
“Oh my God, that was so…Holy shit.” He stops the recording and tosses his phone away. “You’re incredible.”
“If you’re trying to sweet talk me into another round, you need to do better.”
“I can’t come again if I tried.”
“Ouch,” you wince. “Hurtful.”
“Drama queen,” he laughs. The kisses up your spine make up for the dig.
You hum into the ticklish sensation. “You love it.”
“Of course I do, that’s why I married you.” 
“And here I thought it was for my incredible cooking.” You slouch into the pillows, body finally sputtering to a halt. “I feel gross.”
“Happens when you're covered in cum and take two cocks. Give me ten minutes and we’ll take a bath. The maintenance guy fixed the jets today.”
“Oh, baby.”
You and Seungcheol fall asleep five minutes later, your face in the pillows and Seungcheol’s lips at your shoulder.
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“I’m under the big sign that says ‘Buses.’ Wait, I think I see you.” Seungcheol’s voice rings through the speaker as you scan the crowd
“Stick your hand up. Okay, now wave it in the air. No, bigger. Make a ‘Y’—”
“You’re so annoying,” he barks as he opens the passenger door.
You ease back into traffic, his hand clasped in yours over the center console. “I didn’t know having some harmless fun is a crime.” 
“It is when I’m tired and I missed you.”
“Aw, poor baby,” you coo sarcastically. “I missed you too.”
The drive home is peaceful. Seungcheol kept you updated during his trip and vice versa. Even getting in the door of the house is done in lazy silence, your husband refusing to let you go more than a few feet away before drawing you back into his hold. 
Tucked under the covers with your head on his chest, you crack; unable to keep his final birthday surprise a secret any longer.
“You know, I have one more gift for your birthday.”
“Baby, I love you but I can’t stay awake to fuck you. I promise I will in the morning.”
“Not that you perv. It's in the closet.”
“It can’t wait until morning?” he pleads, snuggling down to hide under your chin. 
“Nope.”
He gets up with a dramatic pout, shuffling to the closet for a gift wrapped boxed you’ve had hidden since his birthday.  “What is it?”
“Open it.”
He shreds through the paper, tossing aside the lid. Each second has you worrying your lip. It’s something you talked about extensively; in hypotheticals not realities. When you’d be ready. It’s why you bought this house, why Seungcheol’s car has a high safety rating. Something you’d both been clear about wanting since the very beginning.
There wasn’t an active effort but neither of you argued to use condoms again when your last pack of birth control ran out and the prescription went unfilled. You both carried on in silent agreement that whatever may happen will happen.
“Blueberries? You know we have a fridge to keep these in, right?”
“Fruit doesn’t belong in the fridge,” you shakily argue. “Now, read the note.”
“At seven weeks your baby is about the size of a blueberry. Baby Choi’s eyes, nose, mouth, and ears are starting to look more—” he trails off, jaw slack. “Baby Choi?”
You burn under his gaze, shy like the first time he said I love you all those years ago. “Surprise?”
“Are you serious?” 
He drops the fruit when you nod, no doubt spilling the fruit everywhere in his haste to kiss you. It’s hard with both you beaming, cheeks round and burning. Kisses to your cheeks and chin and lips and nose like he can’t believe it’s a real thing. 
“I’m serious. Next week it’ll be the size of a grape and have fingers.” You pat your belly gently, his own hand caught under yours and snaking beneath your pajamas. “Weird to think about.”
“Oh my god.” He flushes. “How did you…?”
“Had a feeling while you were gone,” you admit. “On your birthday actually.”
“Really?” He’s staring at your stomach. You aren’t showing but since you’ve found out you can’t stop looking in the mirror for a change. That’s probably what he’s doing right now. Looking for those signs of proof that will start coming sooner than later.
“Yeah, I took like five tests in the grocery store bathroom to be sure.”
He doesn’t speak for a while, regarding you with silent awe. His cheek rests flat against your belly. There's a squeeze of your hand while his eyes sink shut to settle into the news. “We’re gonna be parents.”
“Yeah,” you smile. “My boobs are supposed to start getting bigger soon.”
“I thought something was different.”
“Probably the lack of sleep from your big ass baby.”
“Our big ass baby,” He corrects. “Is it too early to start decorating the spare room?” 
“It literally doesn’t even have a face right now.” 
Seungcheol kisses your navel, lips moving across the skin. “Your mommy is so mean to me. I think you’d be beautiful even if you don’t have a face.”
A week of knowledge, the initial anxiety you’d bottled up in effort to make sure he’s the first person you told (not including your gyno) starts to spill out.  “We can do this, right? You’re ready?”
His head pops up, eyes softening as he meets yours. “There is no one in the world I’d rather do this with.”
“Me either.”
“Best birthday present ever.”
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oceantornadoo · 2 months
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thinking about car sex with big boy!simon going terribly, hilariously wrong. ao3 link
the first mistake was even entertaining the idea. his hand on your thigh, inching upwards slowly as you both noted the three hours left in your road trip. when he got further up and found no underwear under your sundress, simon gave you the growl of an unrestrained creature. you buck into his hand, wet pussy gliding over his fingers, and he jerks the car off the highway, finding the nearest abandoned road.
the second mistake was being too impatient to move to the backseat. simon pushed his seat back as you unbuckled your belt and swung over to his lap. however, he’s got thighs the size of tree trunks. no matter how big or small your own are, you’re practically sitting on top of him, no room to properly straddle. “not a lot of room, love.” he huffed out in a grunt, taking off his own belt in an attempt to maneuver himself. “keep going, please.” you whined and he unzipped his jeans, tucking you closer, bearing through the uncomfortableness of your knees digging into his hips while he has no room to move.
the third mistake was the technique. you were pulling out his cock, dragging it through your folds, drenching it in your slick. after a few experimental rolls, you finally slipped it in, both moaning loudly at the stretch. you tried to roll your hips but with the size of you and simon combined, you end up hitting the car horn, sending a loud shriek through the abandoned road.
that’s it and you’re giggling into his shoulder, his own gruff chuckles filling the car. “should’ve moved t’ the back, darling. ‘m too big for this.” he was trying small thrusts but the angle was terrible. “it’s ok, si. i like you big.” you peppered kisses over his t shirt, easing yourself off his cock. you pulled back and kissed the smirk on his face, intimately subdued. “let’s see who can last the three more hours, hm?”
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peachesofteal · 3 months
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD
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"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."
"Yeah, we'll see you then."
Simon goes to bed early that night.
He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.
Learn how to do this. It may save your life.
The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.
It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.
The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"
"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.
"What's wrong?"
"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"
"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"
"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.
The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.
You have to be here. He just talked to you.
But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?
He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."
You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.
His heart breaks when he opens the door.
You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.
There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."
You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."
"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.
"I can't."
"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.
He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.
Simon shuts the door.
"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."
Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.
"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"
"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."
"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."
"Okay."
"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.
He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.
He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.
He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.
"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.
Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.
Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.
He holds you. You hold his baby.
How it was always meant to be.
He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.
"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.
"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.
"What is it?"
"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"
"Of course."
He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.
"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."
You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.
But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.
"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.
"Time to go?"
"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
"I will."
"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.
"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.
"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.
"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.
"I will. I promise."
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