Tumgik
#i was listening to night shift while thinking about him
fraugwinska · 14 hours
Note
I swear your stories make my heart skip beats❤️🩷❤️🩷 I need some soft spicy Alastor x Female Reader. Maybe a Morning After scenario with Alastor and the reader (waking up together, being soft and cute. Kisses and stuff and maybe a slight continuation of last night😏😏)
After the last stories I was EAGER to write your request, my dearest @alastor-simp. I've accepted my rank as fluff fairy, and I oh-so-love to write these cute, tender moments!!! Thank you for this ask, I hope I did it justice!
For the best experience, I suggest to listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Love is', which I imagined the radio to play in the story (and listened to while I wrote it)
❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️
We only have Forever
The birds in hell weren't like anything on earth – their songs were not sweet and melodic, but rather ominous and melancholic.
Which is why, when you were woken by an unusual, bright chirping sound, you thought for a split second you were alive again, waking up from an intense, unusually immersive dream.
You shifted, cheeks still pressed into the white, soft pillow and body messily wrapped in cotton sheets, too drowsy to realize that the chirp was not coming from birds, but the little, vintage radio that sat beside the bed in. It quietly came to life, the search for a channel resulting in high, pitchy squeaks and fuzzy static feedback. Which was always the tell-tale sign of a waking Alastor.
The arm around your waist twitched, causing you to sigh peacefully. Your lids fall close and you let it pull you back into the center of the bed, into a warm, waiting body - a soft chest, thinly covered in silky taupe fur that tickled your nose, an underlying, hearty scent of wood and vetiver and the familiar rhythm of another heart drumming against your ears.
You left your eyes closed, relying on the most comforting senses of touch, hear and feel, the latter came into use as the sensation of sleepy, light kisses on the crown of your head that caused your lips to pull into a blissful smile.
"Mornin' my buck."
"Good morning, my doe."
His voice was nothing more of a mumble, still lazy and half asleep, hoarse and slightly deeper than when up and about. When he finally seemed to have picked a radio station he liked, the room was filled with a soft, dreamy song which suited the very same ambiance that was present - happy, in love, slow, silent bliss. It was one of your favorites, and one of the few more modern ones Alastor tolerated.
He ran his slender fingers up your back and shoulders, through the disheveled masses of hair, stroking it gently with his sharp talons, scratching ever so lightly on the scalp. He pulled himself a little more forward, tangling his legs even more with yours in an effort to maximize the connection of your bodies and minimize the space that span between you.
"Hey, easy now or I'll think you're afraid I'll jump up and leave as soon as my eyes open." you teased playfully, as Alastor nuzzled his nose deep in your hair, taking in deep breaths, inhaling your scent and humming in content.
"I had hoped after all my efforts tonight you wouldn't be able to even if you tried, darling."
You flicked his ear in fake indignation, but chuckled and raked your fingers over his back in soft, tender streaks, your fingertips gliding over his spine and sides. He shivered under your touches and melted deeper into you. A rhythmic, shuffling sound joined in with the faint tune from the radio, and Alastor groaned when you purred in lofty pride.
"Damned, traitorous thing...", Alastor scowled, trying to evade the hand that reached for his wagging tail under the sheets.
"Don't you talk like that about my precious friend.", you cooed and caressed the plush fur on his lower back, scratching with nimble fingers close to the base of his tail, the very spot where he was extremely... responsive. Alastor just growled again, missing any angry or mad edge, his tail continuing to thump louder and even quicker and causing him to whine as he failed to stop its excited sway.
"It betrays me."
"No, it only tells me that you're happy."
Alastor tilts his head to brush his lips over your own, almost not touching, a tiny, bittersweet distance between his and your mouth.
"If it's that much more of a conservationist for you, maybe I should stop talking then."
With a faint, sighed chuckle he finally closed the agonizing gap, lips met lips in a slow and flowing embrace, moving almost at the tempo of the song, it's calming beat guiding the cadence and harmony of his kiss. You felt him smile, more relaxed and at ease that his usual signature grin, even though your eyes were closed shut in drowsiness and enjoyment. The slow, lazy, fullness of this morning's intimacy, of your bodies so closely pressed together in ruffled sheets while hell's sun was only slowly rising on the horizon, making out and embracing each other without the need to rush or be somewhere in another hour or so was a rare occasion and therefore worth savoring.
His hands traveled over your hips, up your waist to settle in a gentle, cradling grip around your neck, fingertips grazing the outer edges of the delicate bite mark still there as a reminder of the contrasting feverish passion you both shared last night. With Alastor - It was war and peace, in a circle - hard, unforgiving, passionate desire at the beginning of dusk, and soft, tender and sensual love at the break of dawn. A clash of burning flames and gentle streams, all on an even ground of equals.
You sensed the slight change in the mood, the licks over your parted lips with the warm tip of his tongue soon turned to be deep and demanding, less lazy and more eager movements from his tongue - exploring the insides of your mouth, playfully flicking yours and circling around and between your teeth. His large hand left it's spot in the crook of your neck and pulled on the base of you head, sinking his digits in the tuft of your hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, more of a wanton, sloppy sound rather than anything else and you started to grow flushed, your skin tingling pleasantly under every touch and lick and nibble.
You deeply enjoyed the roughness and depravity you shared in the nights, you really really did. But this, this was what you loved. It was when Alastor wasn't starved for you, endlessly hungry and hasty to devour you but when you were a well prepped meal, slowly cooked and seasoned with care and love that you felt the most powerful connection of your souls - his touches were careful and secure and when he held you in his arms like this, kissed and adorned you like that, every and any gesture or caress spoke so clearly the sentence he had captured your heart with - you are mine and only mine.
"You are saying an awful lot with that body language for someone who wanted to stop talking, my buck." Alastor laughed fondly at your husky breathed words, rolling you on top of him, sheets sticking to the planes of your bare bodies. You threw a leg over him to sit in a straddling position, your face a mere few inches above his as he rolled his hips and swayed your body against his growing length.
“That's the beauty of a loophole, my doe, for no spoken words could express me quite as honestly as this."
Alastor kissed you once more and, now grinning as devilishly as you were used to, let his hands find rest on your hips, ready to start one more of those heavenly nonverbal conversations before you both had to ready yourselves for the hellish world outside of your bedroom.
Again, thank you for suggesting this. And a big shoutout to @minkdelovely, who made my heart skip with her article on 'Pictures of you'. The fluff fairy had you in mind with this, too ;>)
194 notes · View notes
whatitshouldvebeen · 3 days
Note
as someone who has self harm scars i was curious. what do you think johnny would think if he saw his s/o (or victim) had some? also i love ur writing so much <3 hope ur staying hydrated and getting enough sleep !!
First tysm for loving my writing!! I have the type of ADHD where I forget to drink anything so unfortunately not but I do get decent sleep ty for asking ❤️ I hope you enjoy the fic and remember, Johnny is not a licensed therapist so please don't follow his suggestions 😂
Scars of the Past
Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x reader
Warnings: self-harm, blood, local insane man is certain he can make a girl feel better via knifeplay, MINORS DNI
Wordcount: 1,670
Tumblr media
Maybe Johnny was stupid for hitting the same place twice after already having picked up a girl, but he had to see if you were still around. You, the girl who checked everyone into the nightclub. The girl he’d been following home for the last week. When you'd taken his hand to stamp it, he honed in on your wrists right away. Scars, and plenty of them.
You were accustomed to getting looks and were used to it by now, so all you did was smile at him and usher him inside. He left a few hours later with a drunk girl on his arm and that was that, or so you thought.
So when the club closed around twelve, you were surprised to see the same tall, dark, and handsome man from last night push himself off the brick wall and approach you.
"Hello, little miss," he drawled as he stopped in front of you while you put on your jacket.
"Oh, hey," you replied, not fully engaged.
"I'm Johnny. What's your name?" he asked.
You glanced up at him and shared your name as you finished fastening your coat.
"Pretty name for a pretty girl," he remarked.
"Thanks. Listen, I gotta get home now—" you began, but he interrupted by taking your hand, drawing your attention back to him.
"I couldn't help but notice your scars," he said, pushing your sleeve back to inspect the faded white lines. Your gaze shifted to his, noticing a large scar over his eye that you hadn't seen before.
"I doubt you did that to yourself," you responded with a half-smile.
"My ma did it," he said, catching you off guard.
"I'm sorry," you said softly.
He brushed it off. "It’s fine. But I'm curious, why'd you do this to yourself?" he asked, genuine interest in his eyes.
You looked into Johnny's dark gaze, surprised to find understanding rather than judgment. "My childhood wasn't the greatest," you explained with a shrug.
"Don't most people hide their scars?" he inquired.
"I don't care what people think. I'm in a better place now," you replied, trying to reassure both him and yourself.
“Are you?” He asked, running his thumb over your scars. You didn't know that he'd seen you through your bathroom window, curled up on the floor of your shower, sobbing. You didn't know he'd seen why you called out three days ago, because you couldn't bear to drag yourself out of bed.
Feeling uncomfortable, you pulled your wrist away. "Yeah, I'm fine," you insisted, attempting to brush past him, but he blocked your path.
You then felt something that made all the color drain from your face. A knife, pressed against your abdomen.
“Nah, I think you'll be coming home with me tonight,” he hissed low in your ear.
He drove you to a hotel, and checked into a room, always keeping the knife at the small of your back.
“I'd take you home to mama, but she gets funny,” he said, gesturing to his scar.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked as he opened the hotel room door, pushing you inside before him.
“Tell me your favorite part about cutting,” he demanded, locking the door behind you.
"What?" you asked incredulously.
“You heard me,” he replied, removing his shirt and revealing numerous scars that crisscrossed his pale skin.
"Did you do that to yourself?" you asked, taken aback by the sight.
“I asked you a question first, missy,” he retorted with a cocky grin.
You sighed, sitting down shakily on the bed. “I just like to be reminded that I'm alive, okay? Shit hurts too much,” you mumbled.
“Well, you're certainly alive, darlin’. A whole club of people pretending to be happy, then there's you,” he remarked, stepping closer with a predatory gleam in his eye. “I can see you better ‘n all them. I see through the walls you built. You're not okay, but you could be,” he said, then turned his Bowie knife around, holding the handle towards you.
"What the hell?" you whispered, feeling a mixture of fear and confusion.
“Cut me. Tell me if it makes you feel alive the same way it does when you cut yourself,” he instructed, as if it was the most normal request in the world.
You took the knife, raising an eyebrow at him. He didn't move, he just stood and watched you with a gleam in his eye.
You stood, holding the knife so tightly your fingers hurt. You could've slit his throat, or tried to anyway. Why did he kidnap you just to hand you a knife? Did he have a death wish?
Adrenaline made your heart pound in your ears. He wasn't moving… he must be serious. You raised the knife, took a deep breath, then sliced it across his chest.
“Ooh,” he winced, hissing through his teeth, “got me good. Must be all the practice,” he said with a laugh. All you could do was stare as crimson cascaded down his torso.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked, the knife still limply held in your hand.
“Same thing as you,” he responded simply, running his hand over his abdomen and bringing his fingers to his lips, staining them red.
“Are you going to kill me?” You asked anxiously.
“Why you askin’ me that, you're the one with the knife!” He laughed.
You looked down at the bloodied knife in your hand and realized something. In this instance, you look guilty. If you were to try anything, he could very easily claim you assaulted him.
“Guess you're in a pickle, lil’ missy. Let me help you outta it.” He stepped forward, leaning toward you. “But before I do, tell me how it felt.”
You took a deep breath, watching as the blood continued to seep from his wound he wasn’t bothering to stifle.
“It felt the same as when I cut myself, I guess,” you admitted. “I felt alive.”
“Knew it.” Johnny grinned. “In that case, I have a proposition for ya.”
He set one bloodied knuckle under your chin, angling your eyes to meet his. “There's someone who's stumbled onto my property, you see. Trespassin’. I could use some help teachin’ them a lesson. Might help you feel the same way you did cutting me.”
“I don't know, I'm not a bad person,” you said, your heart still pounding like mad.
“You aren't, but you felt that thrill, didn't ya? The world ain't black and white sweetheart.” He shrugs, moving to the bathroom and grabbing a towel, wrapping it around his abdomen. “Far as I see it, trespassers need to be punished. Come with me. If you do, I'll let you go without a fuss. But I can promise you that you'll be back.”
“And if I don't?” You asked hesitantly.
“Well then, either you escape and I tell the cops you cut me open… or I kill you before you get the chance,” he said matter-of-factly, his demeanor chillingly calm.
You held up the knife, pointing it toward him, a futile attempt to assert some control over the situation.
“If you try it, I know how to survive, darlin’, and it only makes you look more guilty,” he said confidently, approaching you and allowing the knife to dimple his stomach when he reached you.
“Come with me,” he said, wrapping his hand around yours, which was still gripping the knife.
You continued to hold on, but deep down, you knew you stood no chance against this man. So, you let go.
“There ya go,” he said, his face lighting up. “Oh darlin’, we're gonna have so much fun.”
32 notes · View notes
honestlyhiswife · 6 months
Text
i like to think that Ghost is actually softer than he lets on. It’s only natural for him to be defensive, what if somebody uses information about him against him?
But when Ghost truly knows that he can trust somebody, I think that he turns to putty.
Putty in the sense that, he’d mold himself for them, to accomodate them in his life. Making sure that he covers the corner of the table when you bend down to pick something up. Watering your plants that have mysteriously not died in 3 months. Restocking your favourite sweets.
While it may take a long time, his caring tendencies last a long time as well.
in addition:
He thinks you’re oblivious to all this, that you have no idea what’s going on. In reality, you play the part of being oblivious because you know that he enjoys caring for you in subtle ways since he hasn’t mustered up the strength to do it boldly.
Purposefully leaving the Sunday newspaper for him so he can do crossword and sudoku. Eating new sweets so you have an excuse to feed him some. Giving him a really quick peck on the cheek before leaving.
In the end, it’s the small, sweet nothings that amount to everything to him
4K notes · View notes
heytheredelulu · 20 days
Text
Tumblr media
Little Bookworm 18+
Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 2.3k
Content Warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink, dubcon kink (as long as Bucky can keep a straight face), tummy bulge, language, a good ole coochie slap (once), cum play, a little fluff, some aftercare
Your boyfriend can’t think of anything more adorable than watching you read. One night while you’re in the shower he picks up the book you left on the nightstand: “Haunting Adeline by H.D. Carlton” and thumbs through it, very quickly realizing just what kind of books his sweet little bookworm is really into.
Inspired by my IRL husband’s reaction to my smutty reads.
Note: I don’t own any characters or works referenced in this oneshot and shout out to H.D. Carlton for creating Zade Meadows and giving us the house of mirrors chapter that’s been living rent free in both me and @lilacka’s head for over a year.
Bucky absolutely loved to watch you read.
The subtle way your expressions changed as your eyes would glide across the pages made his heart swell with admiration.
He found himself entranced with your concentration, your eyebrows knitting together in thought, your lips quirking up into a smile and even the soft laughter that would sometimes escape you as you delved deep into the world you held in your hands.
He was always more than happy to accompany you to the bookstore, leaning against the shelves and observing you as you thumbed through new titles, stacking your choices in his strong arms before darting down the next aisle to browse further.
He looked forward to the evenings where he could lay his head comfortably in your lap, his arm draped across your thighs as you worked your fingers lazily through his hair while you read quietly above him.
Tonight he lay in bed with his hands folded behind his head, listening to the gentle sound of the shower from the bathroom as you bathed when his gaze fell on your most recent read on the nightstand. The cover was dark with a skull and roses, something about a ‘Haunting’ and an absurd amount of sticky notes jutted out from the pages. His curiosity overtook him and he sat up, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. He thumbed through it carefully before letting it fall open to one of the tagged pages, his eyes scanning the text and widening slightly at the content.
He flipped to another tab, quickly reading through the passage, his breath quickening as he took in the words.
“If I catch you, I fuck you.”
Jesus Christ.
The bathroom door creaked open and he slowly lifted his gaze up to you.
Your damp body wrapped in a towel with your wet hair against your neck and shoulders did absolutely nothing to combat the heat that was already rising within him at what he’d just read.
Your eyes connect for a beat before you glance down to notice the book in his hand, opened to one of your tagged pages.
It was hard to discern if the flush across your cheeks was remnant of the heat of the shower or from the slight embarrassment of feeling caught by your boyfriend discovering the absolute filth you’d been reading.
He raises a brow at you, lifting the book and tapping on the open passage.
“If I catch you, I fuck you?” He asks, tilting his head curiously. “Really?”
You huff and roll your eyes, stepping forward and reaching to snatch the book from his hands but he’s quicker, snapping it shut and holding it just out of your reach.
“No, no. We’re gonna talk about this, doll.” He says, his lips curling into a smirk. “This is what you’ve been reading?”
You shift from foot to foot.
“Sometimes.” You reply with a weak shrug.
He turns the book over in his hands again and idly runs his palm back and forth against all the flags poking out from between the pages. “And do you.. like this stuff?” He asks, not looking up. “Does it turn you on?”
You swallow hard and nod despite the fact he’s not looking at you.
“Sometimes.” You repeat quietly.
“Huh.”
He purses his lips and nods thoughtfully, standing up and tossing the book onto the bed. “I guess you oughta run then.”
Your eyebrows shoot up to your hair line.
Did he just?
Is he going to?
“W-what?” You stutter out, taking a small step back as he closes in on you.
He tsks and reaches out, brushing your wet hair back off your shoulder with two fingers. “You heard me, baby.”
You open your mouth to reply but the words are lost the moment he seizes the edge of your towel in his large hand.
Your eyes connect for a brief moment before he yanks the towel free of your body and discards it on the ground, leaving you exposed, confused and incredibly aroused.
His hand settles on your breast, his thumb brushing over your nipple and sending a rush of desire straight to your core. He dips his head to nuzzle his forehead against your temple, his tongue flicking against your earlobe.
“You should probably run now.” He warns in a whisper, taking a step back to give you space for a head start.
You stare wide eyed in disbelief, your head barely able to wrap around what was happening.
“Five.” He says in a threatening tone, bringing his hand down to palm his growing erection under his sweatpants.
You’re frozen to the spot.
There’s no fucking way he’s about to do this.
“Four.”
Okay, maybe he is.
You take off at a run, reaching the bedroom door and flinging it open with him hot on your tail.
Your bare feet pound against the hardwood floor and you rush down the hall towards the staircase, making it only two steps down before his strong arm catches you around the waist and picks you up effortlessly.
You wiggle against his hold, kicking your feet and thrashing.
“You’re not very fast, you know.” He teases, tightening his grip on you, his cock straining against his sweatpants and pressing into your backside.
He carries you back into the bedroom, his arm locked around you in a vice grip and tosses you onto the bed as if you were weightless. He tugs his sweatpants down and kicks them off, his cock bobbing with every step as he stalks towards you.
He braces his palms on the bed, preparing to climb up and pin you but you scramble backwards off the bed and take off again. He pauses, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait, what-?” he straightens up and turns, watching as you sprint across the room and he frowns, realizing you weren’t going to let him catch you that easily.
“Damnit.” He grumbles, launching himself up over the bed.
He chases you with heavy footsteps towards the bathroom and you rush to shut the door but his hand catches it and forces it open, leaving you completely cornered with nowhere else to turn. “Shit.” You breathe out, looking around for a possible way out. He laughs, a cute and genuine laugh that is just so Bucky, completely betraying the role he was attempting to play.
You cross your arms over your bare breasts and frown. “I’m sorry.” He says, shaking his head. “I- just.. why did you run into the bathroom?” He asks, gesturing around the small room with amusement. “I don’t know!” You huff, your lips pressing into a pout. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you definitely weren’t.” He agrees, swinging his foot back to kick the door shut behind him. “Guess you’re trapped, huh?”
You nod, letting your arms fall away from your breasts. “I guess I am.” You breathe out, your body thrumming with a mix of excitement and desire as your eyes trail down his toned body to land on his fully erect cock. He’s on you in an instant, grabbing your wrist and tossing you to the ground.
You fall hard on your hands and knees onto the plush bath mat, barely able to steady yourself on all fours before he’s on your back, arm hooked around your waist and sinking his cock into your wet, throbbing cunt. You arch back into him, fingers digging into the bath mat and a choked gasp catches in your throat as he pulls you flush to his pelvis, burying himself to the hilt. He snakes his free hand up your abdomen towards your chest, a trail of goosebumps following in his wake, dipping his forehead down to rest against the back of your shoulder. He palms your breast roughly, rolling your peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
“Bucky..” You whisper, your head falling back.
His forearm tightens around your waist and he releases your nipple with a gentle tug, sliding his hand up to curl around your throat. You moan and wiggle your hips, desperate for him to move, but he holds you still, lifting you up with him as he leans back on his heels.
“I’ll never get tired of this.” He whispers, unhooking his arm from your waist and resting his large hand over the slight bulge in your abdomen. “That’s my cock.” He murmurs, squeezing your throat gently before grasping your jaw and tilting your chin down to look at how he’s stretching you. You whimper and he moves your hand to press down on the bulge of his cock in your belly. “And this is my pussy.” He growls, delivering a slap to your aching clit before he draws his hips back and begins to thrust himself up into you at a steady pace.
A string of soft curses falls from your lips and your head drops back against the crook of his neck, your hand leaving your abdomen and reaching backwards to fist in his hair. “I didn’t realize you were such a freak, baby.” He whispers, his hand tightening around your throat. “I shoulda thumbed through one of your little books sooner.”
His free hand kneads at the flesh of your thigh and he groans, his balls slapping against your ass as he fucks up into you. “I- I-“ You stutter, unable to think straight as your head grows dizzy with pleasure. “Oh no, am I fuckin’ my baby stupid?” He asks with a grin, bringing two fingers to tease at your bottom lip. You open on instinct and he slips them into your mouth, letting out a shaky breath as you suck and swirl your tongue around the digits.
“Fuck.” He hisses, pressing his slick fingers to your clit. You gasp, your fingers curling around his wrist as he strokes your sensitive bud, pulling you closer towards your impending orgasm.
“You gonna come, little bird?” He whispers, trying to reference your book and quickening his fingers against your clit. “It’s ‘little mouse’.” You correct, your lips quirking up into a smirk at his admirable attempt. “Whatever.” He hisses, pinching your clit between his fingers and sending a jolt of white-hot pleasure through your body. You choke out a strangled cry as you come, your legs trembling and back arching against him as your cunt clenches around his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He grunts, shoving you forward to the floor and falling to his knees. You scramble forward, his cock slipping from your dripping hole as you try to steady yourself in the dizzying wake of your orgasm.
“Oh no, no you don’t.” He growls, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back towards him. You lose your balance and fall flat, your breasts smashed against the cold tile as he presses his weight down on you, running his cock back and forth along your folds before thrusting back into you. “T-too much!” You whine, squirming underneath him.
“Tell me to stop.” He grunts, knowing damn well you never would. He hooks his forearm under your waist again and angles your hips upward, taking you deeper than you even thought possible.
Choked sobs of euphoria escape your throat as your cheek rests against the floor, dragging back and forth across the tile from the force at which he’s fucking into you. Your limp body shakes uncontrollably as your pussy spasms and waves of ecstacy crash over you faster than you can count them. Your orgasms explode through you like a string of firecrackers as you curse and mumble incoherently.
He pulls out abruptly, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back, moving to straddle your chest while he frantically fucks his fist. He comes with a shout, gasping as he paints your face with ropes of hot, sticky cum. “Fuck.” He pants, looking down at you in admiration as he brushes his thumb along your cheek, gathering up his seed.
He pinches your flushed, sticky cheeks together with his free hand. “Open.” He says softly, slipping his thumb into your mouth when you do. You suckle his thumb, greedily cleaning it with a swirl of your tongue, looking up at him through half lidded eyes. He sighs contentedly before moving off you and rising to stand, reaching into the shower to turn on the water.
“And I had just showered.” You mumble as you take the hand he offers you and pull yourself up on wobbly knees. “Don’t you dare bitch about the water bill when it comes.” You tease.
He chuckles softly and pulls you into him, holding you against his chest with one strong arm while the other reaches out to test the temperature of the water. “I won’t.” He says, stepping in first and gently helping you in after him. He wraps his arms lovingly around you and rests his chin atop your head as the warm water cascades over you both.
“Let’s clean you up, doll. It’s late and we have plans in the morning.” He says quietly, his eyes slipping closed as his hand runs idly up and down your back. You lean back and look up at him with your brows furrowed in confusion. “We don’t have plans tomorrow.”
His eyes flutter open and he grins. “The hell we don’t.” He replies, reaching for the shampoo bottle and squeezing the contents into the palm of his hand. You open your mouth to protest when he doesn’t answer your question but he simply twirls a finger, gesturing for you to turn around.
You sigh, turning your back to him and he begins to lather the shampoo in your hair, gently massaging your scalp with his fingers. “So what’re these plans?” You ask quietly after a long moment of silently enjoying his hands tenderly working through your locks. He leans forward, his broad, wet chest pressing against your back and brings his mouth to hover beside your ear.
His breath sends a shiver down your spine as he lets out a low, breathy laugh and whispers, “I’m taking you to buy more books.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
janitorhutcherson · 5 months
Text
Marked Only for Me (Olderbf!Mike Schmidt NSFW)
Tumblr media
hii!! okay, i have never written smut before, so i am begging you all to plz be patient with me! this is very long, so my apologies.this is a part of my olderbf!mike series, so hope u guys likeee. also, for this let's make the assumption mike went to college and all of that before his security jobs. he just had burn out and was there, hence why he's working for a major company with what would be little experience. anyways, lmk what u think!
summary: mike comes home and needs to blow off some steam
warnings: nudity, sex, name calling, hair pulling, choking, marking, possessiveness, an implied free use situation, fluff at the end!!
word count: 2,925
nsfw after the cut!!
You were sitting at the kitchen table doing homework in the home you shared with your boyfriend, Mike. You're 20, a couple of years into college, drudging through math problems that make your head feel like it's sitting inside a frying pan. You had to admit this wasn't your ideal way to relax after a 10-hour shift at the bookstore you helped run. Things had been hectic with Black Friday, your store doing a special sale where everything was 50% off, and bookworms were coming out of random corners to fill their already overflowing shelves for cheap. Of course, being younger, you were the one who had to do the grunt work, carrying piles of books to and from inventory, dealing with the more demanding customers as your older coworkers would tell you that they "just couldn't handle kids these days" and that it'd certainly be better for the younger one to do it. Luckily, though, Abby was at a friend's house, meaning you didn't have distractions. You were as focused as could be with a cup of coffee beside you, the sunlight that was once beaming through the cracks of the blinds now completely gone. You were focused, your brain functioning as much as it would with the problems. Things were quiet.
...That is until Mike stormed in. He was frustrated, angry, an invisible red-hot aura beaming off him. His hair was messier than it typically was. The softness in his eyes was instead replaced with a cold look. His eyebrows were furrowed together on his forehead, his jaw sharp and defined as he gritted his teeth. Although this wasn't common, it wasn't necessarily rare either. Mike worked for a publishing company as a marketing manager. He'd gotten the job after a few months of hard work to make up for the slack on his resume after working at the mall and the pizzeria. He moved up the ladder quickly, his company admiring his friendly attitude and his somewhat shy but personable behavior. He loved his job much more than his past ones. He felt happier, got more time off, was less stressed, and was definitely safer. Even with that being said, sometimes shit just pissed him off.
Today's big issue was a meeting with his marketing team, which also involved the big guy over his head. He felt like he was criticized, demeaned, dragged through the mud, and all in front of the team he was supposed to be respected by, listened to. On a typical day, this might not have pissed him off so much. He might've mentally plotted the demise of his boss, but he wouldn't have caused the outburst he did at work, and today had been particularly awful. He'd been late, burned his breakfast, knicked himself while shaving, and even gotten into what he considered to be a little fight with you the night before. Even though you'd both settled the argument, made up, and kissed before bed, he had been thinking about it all day. He'd then spilled coffee on his brand new tie, leaving a stain, and then... that happened. Mike snapped. He yelled at his boss, showing his ass in front of everyone, causing a meeting in his boss's office to end with an inevitable write-up. 
Now, he was home, trudging in all his bad energy, disrupting your study time. You couldn't even be frustrated with him, his demeanor proving he'd obviously had a bad day. You went to stand up to greet him with a hug, a kiss or two, but before you could, Mike stormed over to you, grabbing your arm harshly. You gasped, slightly thrown off by his sudden actions. He pulled you closer to him, his eyes locked on yours and his breath heavy against your neck.
"What the fuck, Mike?" you said, your eyebrows furrowed as you stared into his cold brown-green orbs.
"Listen to me," he grunted, his voice low and gravely. "I have had a very, very bad day, and I need you to be a good girl for me, okay? I don't want no shit, no back talk, you'll listen to what I say.. do you understand?" 
His hand still gripped your arm, his fingernails digging into your skin. You could feel yourself starting to drip, your panties feeling damp against your skin as your body buzzed with excitement. All you could do was nod your head, your eyes locked on his as they clouded over with lust. Mike snapped his fingers in your face, looking at you from underneath his eyebrows. 
"Use your words," he demanded. 
"Yes sir, I understand," you stuttered out, your cheeks flushing red. Mike's face was now pleased, his entire demeanor softening a little. His hand stayed wrapped around your arm as he tugged you into the living room, pushing you roughly onto the couch. You huffed from the impact, your eyes widening as Mike dropped to his knees before you. He slid your sweatpants off, prying your knees open to reveal your see-through pink panties soaked beyond belief. His eyes were hungry, his mouth open, almost drooling as he looked directly into your eyes. 
"All for me, babydoll?" he teased, his hand sliding in between your legs as he drew small circles around your clothed clit. You nodded your head as a whimper escaped your lips, the aching in between your legs only growing worse.
"What did I tell you?" he said, his words sharp as he smacked the inside of your thigh.
"Yes sir," you corrected, your words wavering after the impact from his hand. Mike nodded, satisfied with your answer, as he slowly slid your panties down your thighs, wasting no time. You gasped once again as the cold air hit your wet cunt. Mike exhaled sharply, taking a moment to admire you in front of him. His eyes trailed up to your pathetic look, your already-glazed-over eyes, down to your barely clothed chest, only a sports bra covering your breasts he loved so much, then down to in between your legs, where you were so wet, and all just for him. His lips trailed up to your tummy, sucking on the skin in different areas, from above your abdomen all the way up to right below where your sports bra stayed, purple marks forming.
He then dove in without hesitation, his large hands gripping your sides as he leaned in, moving one hand to take his index and middle finger to spread your pussy lips. His mouth instantly attached to your clit. You yelped as you bucked your hips forward, his lips meeting the sensitive area. Mike pinched your thigh, a sign to quiet down until he said to do otherwise, two of his fingers reaching out to be shoved into your mouth.
“Suck,” he demanded, his fingers going as far back down your throat as they could. You did what you were told, sucking on his fingers and drawing your own circles with your tongue. His tongue drew tiny and slow circles against the set of nerves, your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair from desperation. God, he loved eating you out. The way you yelped, quivered, shook underneath him, your hands tangled in his hair to keep yourself from going over the edge. He fucking loved it, you were the perfect cure to his anger, calming, something he could take it out on in a productive way that made everyone feel good. Your whines were suppressed as you bit your lip, your teeth digging into the softer skin. Mike pulled away for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once again as he admired your face, your now swollen lips.
“You know what, baby? Be as loud as you want for me now, princess,” he mumbled, going back to attacking your wet cunt. Slurping sounds filled the living room mixed with your moans and whimpers as his tongue slid up and down your slit, his lips wrapping around your clit to suck as hard as possible when his tongue wasn’t fucking inside of you. He moaned against you, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His cock was rock hard inside of his work pants, his own face flustered as he rocked back and forth against himself. His tongue continued to lap at your clit as he slid two of his large fingers in and out of you, your walls clenching around them. You could feel yourself drawing close and Mike could tell. Your thighs attempted to clench around his head, but before they could his calloused hands pried them open, holding them apart. Just as your eyes began to clamp shut, your thighs shaking as the knot in your stomach started to untie, Mike pulled away. You gasped as he slipped his fingers out, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at him with an angry glare. He chuckled as he stood up, raising his eyebrows up and down as he leaned down, his hand lifting your chin up.
“Poor baby, was all ready to finish for me, hm? You were gonna be ‘Mikey’s little slut,’ weren’t you? That’s what you tell me you are, right? My little slut?” he teased, no remorse behind his eyes. You huffed, punching his arm before crossing your arm, too out of it to say anything from the knot that remained in your stomach but too angry to take initiative.
“Awh, don’t be mad, princess,” he snickered, shaking his head as he leaned further down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “You really think I’m done with you?”
With that being said, Mike pushing you back on the couch. His right hand held you down as his lift struggled to unbutton his pants. He pulled his pants down, letting them fall around his ankles as he yanked his boxers off, his cock springing out. He stepped out of them, letting you go for a moment to unbutton his shirt before tossing it off as well. Mike then looked over to you, leaning forward, ripping your thin sports bra off of your chest, your breasts now exposed to him. He licked his lips, excitement overflowing his body. He crawled on top of you, attempting to make the two of you fit on the couch. His mouth attacked your nipples, biting and gnawing at your skin. His mouth moved up to your neck, sucking and prodding and biting until purple marks were left all around, ones you were all too aware would be impossible to hide later on. He moved down to your chest once again, marks all across your collarbone, your tits. Mike’s hands gripped onto your neck as he sat up, looking into your glossed over eyes. He pressed his lips to your ear, a soft kiss against your earlobe.
“’M about to fuck you so hard you see stars,” he said, his voice causing prickles to cover your skin. Then, without hesitation Mike slammed into you, his pace staggered. Your moans were as loud as could be, the sound of skin hitting against each other and the echoes of both of your voices filling the living room. His thrusts were sloppy as he felt himself starting to get close to the edge, his hands pushing your hips down and into the couch. Your entire body sunk into the cushions as he used everything in him, his cock abusing your poor cunt. You swore you saw stars until you felt his hand gently smack against your cheek, your eyes averting back to his gaze.
“You’re gonna look at me when I fuck you, princess,” he growled, his hand sliding up to your hair as he tugged. You grew close, clenching around his length, your thighs starting to shake. Your core was threatening to come undone.
“Fuck, Mikey, baby, I’m gonna fucking cum,” you whimpered out, closing your eyes as your head leaned back against the side of the couch.
“Cum for me, baby,” Mike stated. You did as he demanded, finishing around his cock as your liquids gushed against him. His thrusts grew sloppier before he pulled out, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“You’re such a good girl, you know that baby? You did so good for me, listening to what I said, letting me use your pretty cunt,” he stated, his thumb caressing your cheek. He then resituated, pulling you off the couch, pushing you onto the ground. You were now in the same position he was in earlier, completely fucked out. Your lips were dull from exhaustion, your cheeks red and your hair knotted in certain areas. Mike’s cock was directly in front of you, his hand guiding for you to suck on him. Your lips wrapped around his tip, the tip of your tongue licking his slit. You worked your mouth down his length, licking the sides. Mike’s moans became frantic, desperate as your mouth worked its magic. His hand tangled in your hair as he pushed your head up and down, thrusting up into your mouth.
“That’s it, baby, feels so good,” he grunted. With no warning, Mike pulled out, spilling his load all over your face. He twitched, his moans loud and low, your tongue stuck out to catch his cum. His body laid against the couch, feeling heavy as his head leaned against the back of his couch. A tired grin was on his lips as you also smiled up at him, licking yourself clean. Mike looked down at you, a chuckle releasing his lips. It was obvious all of the tension and anger was gone, as his once cold eyes were once again the soft loving brown they used to be. He looked at you with adoration, always amused by how gorgeous you were even after rigorous activity and getting your face painted.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, picking you up bridal style as he leaned down to kiss you, not caring about his own load that was now on his face. He sat you down on the bathroom counter, grabbing a washcloth out of the cabinet, running it under warm water. He started to wipe away all of the liquids covering your face, pressing kisses to your skin here and there, looking your body up and down as he admired all of the marks he left.
“You always know how to make me feel good and how to take care of me after,” you croaked out, your voice laced with exhaustion as you smiled. Mike smiled back at you, his hand tenderly touching your cheek before pushing your hair behind your ear.
“I love you, of course I want to make sure ‘m taking care of you,” he said softly. His lips once again pressed against yours. “Thank you for letting me… you know.. blow off some steam,” he said, wiggling his brows.
“Of course, honey. I was worried, though. Is everything okay? Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, leaning forward as you slid off of the counter, grabbing a new washcloth and beginning to wipe his face with it as well. Mike sighed, shaking his head as he looked at her with sad eyes.
“I just- I got into it pretty badly with my boss at work and got criticized, I felt like a wounded animal, like I had to fight. I’m so used to having to fight that I don’t know how to shut up and listen,” he mumbled. “It was so bad, Y/N, and I got written up after that awful day I had this morning… I just.. I don’t know. I do know I feel better now, and would feel even better if we cuddled for a bit and then went out for food?” he suggested, spilling his thoughts to you. You giggled, nodding your head as you reached up to press a kiss to him. You dragged him into your shared bedroom, the two of you cuddling up together under the blankets. You turned to your side, your eyes locked with his.
“I love you, Mike, so much. And I’m so, so unbelievably proud of you. Thank you, for always making me feel good too, for taking care of me, for being such a good brother to Abby, just… thank you,” you said softly. Mike looked back at you lovingly, his appreciation for you apparent.
“I love you, princess, you don’t even know how much,” he mumbled. His eyes were heavy. He leaned over and set an alarm for an hour from now, the two of you planning on a night of dinner out and grocery shopping. He curled his arm around you lazily, your body limp and exhausted against his as you yawned.
“Oh, and baby?” he asked. You hummed, lifting your head to meet his eyes. “Wear a crop top when we go out, I want everyone to see you all marked up.” You giggled as you laid your head down, drifting off to sleep.
When you two went out, you did just that, wearing a cropped scoop neck shirt with a low-rise flowy skirt. He showed off any marks you’d left, too, your possessive boyfriend holding you close anytime someone’s eyes linger too long. Mike was strange, possessive, and sometimes a little of what most would say was unsettling, but to you, he was the love of your life, the man who made you feel good, the one who fucked you until you couldn’t think. You loved him, and you always would, blessing you with a lifelong supply of angry sex and aftercare cuddles.
4K notes · View notes
s1m0nth3swag · 1 month
Text
Francis Mosses x GN!Reader
AUTHORS NOTE; Haven't written in a while, but thanks to Arlo, a friend (Hi Arlo, I know you're reading this), Inspiration about Francis Mosses struck (he bought me That's not my neighbor and then continued to freak out about Francis with me) so I wrote this. I have so many thoughts about Francis, so... tell me if you want more because i will deliver ngl. Enjoy (or don't, I don't dictate your feelings)
WARNINGS/ CONTENT INFO; Porn with little to no plot, Submissive Francis, a little non-consensual at the start (but not in a super weird way, imo?), Gender neutral reader (no pronouns used, tried to write as GN as possible with the compliments and thoughts about Readers appearance), not proofread nor have I thought about this much, more a drabble than an actual thoughtful story (not apologising because I had such a long break from writing anything and obviously it's gonna suck a little when I come back)
NSFW UNDER THE CUT!
The first time Francis had realised that he hadn't gotten any touch from another human being was when someone brushed up against him on his way home from work. He had felt like a creep afterwards because he hadn't stopped thinking about what could've happened if the person hadn't moved away and had just stayed pressed against him. That was a week before you started your job as a doorman.
The second time Francis had noticed was when a friend of his had spoken to him on the phone, talking about his new girlfriend. Said friend gave too much intel on their sex life. Francis had wondered if he could have someone the way his friend explained - he quickly brushed the thought off. That was two days before you started working as a doorman.
The third time, he noticed when you had smiled at him. It was your first day, and he was tired from work. You had repeated his name after reading it off of his ID, and he had looked at you for the first time since his eyes kept falling closed, and you smiled so brightly. You had told him his name was nice, and you said it again. Francis swore that the way his name rolled off your tongue was the most beautiful thing he's ever heard. Not even an angel could sound more wonderful. Suddenly, he was a lot more energised. Totally not thanks to the fact that he had immediately grown hard the second he had seen your smile. He had gone to his apartment that night and had jerked off for the first time in probably months. He had always been too tired to previously, but now he couldn't stop thinking about how you'd sound moaning his name. Maybe you were more of a groaner, or you'd whimper and whine. He came as he imagined how you'd look sucking his dick.
Since then, Francis has always looked forward to entry checks. What had normally kept him away from his bed and a good night's sleep was now the best experience of his day. He loved the way you spoke to him even though he was too nervous to respond. Sometimes, he deliberately didn't show his ID at first, just so you'd ask about it, and he could listen to you talk a little more. He felt guilty about it. He knew you had never agreed to feed into this weird little obsession of his. It was awful of him to do this - have you talk to him enough to give him more scenarios to think about that night.
A few weeks after all this had started, Francis had built up the courage to finally ask you out. Just something simple, dinner at his place. He had to cook for himself all the time. Cooking for you as well wouldn't be too different, right?
Francis was wrong. He was anxious that the food wouldn't taste good and kept tasting it just so he could make sure it hadn't mysteriously switched tastes in the last 20 seconds. When you knocked on his door, he took a minute to make sure he didn't look like a mess - though you wouldn't mind either way since he always looked like a mess when he came through during your shifts.
You looked so good when he opened the door. Your hair fell perfectly, your lips looked a little too kissable, and Francis had to stop his train of thought just so he wouldn't embarrass himself by having yet another boner caused by just the way you looked. You were a little shorter than him, smiling up as he let you inside.
"You look good." He mumbled, his cheeks flushing. He seriously had to lay off thinking like a high-schooler. His nervousness and awkwardness were getting really annoying - to him, at least. You grinned, chuckling softly as you took off your shoes. "Thank you. You do as well." His heart for sure burst at that - he knew something else would burst as well if he didn't stop thinking right this second.
Throughout the evening, ignoring his thoughts came easier and easier. The two of you had eaten, you had told him he was a good cook, he had almost excused himself to the bathroom because of it. Now you were sitting on the couch, drinking wine and talking casually.
"You know, when you first walked through, I swore I would die." You giggled, looking at him with a mischievous look. Francis was confused by that statement. "How come?" He asked, tilting his head at you in question. "I was sure you were a doppelganger. You looked too handsome to be real." You cheekily answered, cheeks slightly flushed as you downed your wine. Francis blushed heavily, looked away from you, and thought about your words for a moment. The silence was loud as he wondered what to answer. "..you think I'm handsome?" He questioned while looking at the floor. If he had looked at you, he'd have seen the way you stared at him, your own cheeks coloured a deep red. "Extremely." You muttered. It took him a minute before he could look at you, but when he did, his lips pressed against yours in a desperate kiss.
When you reciprocated, Francis groaned and pulled you closer until you sat on his lap. He was just a tiny bit embarrassed when you gasped and felt his dick press against you. In all honesty, he had held back the entire night, and he was allowed a little selfishness. "Sorry. Can't help it." He muttered between kisses. You just grinned against his lips before grinding against him. A whimper fell from his lips - that was the moment he was actually embarrassed. "That's cute.." You had mumbled, a cheeky grin on your face as you started placing kisses against his jaw and neck. One of your hands trailed down his body to rest right over his crotch, Francis unconsciously bucked his hips up against your hand, whining. He didn't notice anything else as you caught the skin of his neck with your teeth carefully, leaving the softest bite mark on him. He shuddered at the feeling and gasped before realising that you had meanwhile unzipped his pants. A groan slipped from his lips as you ran a finger over his dick, still hidden from sight by his boxers, but god knows he would cum the second you'd touch it without. "Is this okay?" You asked him, and he nodded faster than he even knew he could. "Yes. God, yes. Please, please continue.." he muttered, his breathing heavy as he watched you slide off his lap, settling in front of him and between his legs. His dick twitched at the sight, and he let out a heavy sigh. Minutes later, his pants and boxers were discarded, and the way you looked up at him, his dick so close to your face, made Francis feel the way his orgasm was approaching way too quick. The second you wrapped your hand around him he whined pathetically, bucked up into your hand and knew that he'd definitely cum too soon. Your hand was so soft, cool against his hot flesh, and you worked his dick so good he almost thought you were a professional. He looked down at you through lidded eyes, watched the way you bit your lip, and grinned knowingly. "Such a pretty boy, huh?" You chuckled, and that definitely sealed the deal for Francis. He came, probably ruining his shirt as he dirtied both it and your hand. His heart stopped for a second when you licked your hand while looking up at him. "You didn't give me enough time to taste you properly. Don't look at me like that." You huffed, rolling your eyes at him. "You should probably take off your shirt so you can clean it later." You then winked. He swiftly shed the piece of clothing, entranced by your voice and the way you looked. "Sorry, didn't mean to cum that fast.." he mutters, his voice out of breath. "Jus'.. unused to... this.." he added, clearing his throat awkwardly. You laughed and shook your head. "Don't worry about it. We have all the time in the world to make you last longer. I'm gonna give you a real reason to be tired tomorrow." You winked.
Francis didn't even mind that he was in for a long night.
Your honour I am gnawing at the bars of my enclosure.
2K notes · View notes
steddiewithachance · 4 months
Text
I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
2K notes · View notes
k-hotchoisan · 2 months
Text
vanilla and cream
Tumblr media
<yeosang x fem!reader>
where you flip a switch in your pretty boyfriend, and now he has a breeding fetish he can never get out of his system no thanks to you.
Genres: smut, pwp, forced breeding, mild bondage, cream pies, breeding kink/fetish, overstimulation, unprotected sex, whiny and desperate Yeosang for the girlies out there, it's quite a lot of cum (but are we surprised)
Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @hongjoongswifefr @yourlocaljonghoe itza-meee
🩷 stay perverted: the masterlist
Tumblr media
Yeosang never considered himself to have much kinks or fetishes, at least, before he met you. But even when the relationship as partners turned more intimate, Yeosang never seemed to have much preference when it comes to sex. 
But nothing could have prepared him for the effect just one night could have on him. Now he can’t seem to get enough, and he drives him fucking insane. The taste of it still lingers in his tongue as if it just happened the night before, and when he finally snaps out of it (barely), Yeosang has to make sure he’s not wearing pants that that especially pull taut against his crotch, or that would definitely become an issue.
The ironic thing was that it started on an ordinary night. 
You are peppering kisses across his temples, his pretty little birthmark, before you go down to his neck and shoulders, listening to the soft hums of approval while his hands are warm on your sides.
“Could you let me try something, Yeo?” You ask, going back to facing him at eye level, your palm resting against his soft cheek. 
“What is it?” Yeosang asks back, closing the distance with a kiss. The way he’s swiping and biting softly against your bottom lip, almost erasing whatever you wanted to tell him. 
You giggle in between the kiss, teasing him back with your tongue in your mouth before you pull back, leaving Yeosang slightly breathless.
“Do you trust me?” 
Yeosang nods, his fingers combing through your hair. “Of course baby.”
“Could you let me tie you up and fuck you?”
Yeosang blinks. He never really gave bondage much thought, and even if he did, he always thought you would be the one tied up.
After a second of silence from him, you shift around the bed, Yeosang following your gaze, watching you take white rope from the nightstand. 
“I practiced” you assured him.
Yeosang cocks an eyebrow. “On someone else?”
You hit him playfully, earning a giggle from the male.
“Obviously not, dumbass”, you tease. “So do you want to try it? We can stop any time if it hurts?”
Yeosang ponders for a second. Deep inside, anticipation brews in him—the thought of you tying him up and fucking him on top. It’s not as if he doesn’t let you ride him, it’s just the addition of bondage had roused his interest. So he agrees to try it out. 
Your soft, warm walls hug Yeosang, he swears he’s at the fucking gates of heaven. His muscles flex when he pulls against the ropes, groaning at the pleasure rapidly filling him up. His thoughts are swarming altogether, growing incoherent. He wonders if this strangely more euphoric because it’s something new introduced to the bedroom. He’s never complained about the current sex life the both of you have, he enjoys it, but something about this arrangement is getting a rouse out of him. Yeosang’s heart is pounding, and he hopes you can hear that it’s for you. 
“Babe…” he trails off, still tugging against the restraints. You think the way he looks almost helpless is so endearing, especially when he has his cock sunk all the way into your cunt. And the thought of being completely helpless while you fucked him senseless? Yeosang is indulging it in like it’s his favourite dessert. 
“How does it feel, baby?” You ask, letting your hands run down from your shoulders, giving your nipples a little tug before your hands slide down your bare body and thighs. Yeosang swallows hard, another soft groan leaving his lips as the sounds of skin slapping slowly grows wetter and wetter. His moans turn into whines. 
“So good. So tight, so warm. Fuck”, Yeosang curses, forcing his eyelids open, wanting to look at the way your cunt sinking down and swallowing his pathetic, twitching cock, as cream gradually coats his length. 
Yeosang barely manages to calm down, trying to regain his breathing, his control, from just bursting in you. He doesn’t want to risk cumming in you, no matter how fucking good he thinks it’ll feel, because it’s the first time in a long while since then both of you fucked without protection. Yeosang bites his lips, taking deep breaths, his abdomen flexing once more, his arms pulling against the ropes again. You stare at him, watching Yeosang shift helplessly, his face contorting into pleasure from time to time when he feels you squeeze against him. 
“B-babe… I don’t think—ah fuck—we should keep going”, he barely manages out. You see the beads of perspiration clinging against his temples and his cheeks. 
“Why not?”, you tilt your head, your grinding slowing painfully down, Yeosang jerks slightly, he feels his throat grow dry when, especially the orgasm that was dangling before him completely gets snatched from him. Yeosang spits another curse. 
“I’m not wearing protection,” Yeosang replies, his thighs now trembling from the tension. “It’s not safe.”
You plant a finger on your lip, scrunching your eyebrows, pouting at him slightly, your pussy still riding off his cock. It feels so fucking good that it’s starting to fucking hurt. “But don’t you want to cum, baby?”
Yeosang’s eyes are slowly growing more glazed out the more your hips slap against his. He wants to cum so fucking badly that he doesn’t even know how he’s still thinking of protection. But he still nods, and he’s rewarded with you picking up the pace and bouncing off his cock again, which he wonders if it’s a punishment to feel this fucking amazing. 
“But still—“ Yeosang tries to counter, only to be shut up when you have him completely up to the hilt, dragging your cunt against his poor cock, sending him into another layer of pleasure, his hips unintentionally bucking up to yours. 
“I’m so fucking full, Yeo,” you hum, leaning closer into him, your body pressing onto his, still bouncing off him. “You make me so fucking full. So fucking thick.” 
A pained whimper escapes his lips. He doesn’t think he can last much longer. 
You lean in, your hands cupping his pretty face. Yeosang has his eyes screwed shut, his long lashes resting against his skin, he’s biting his lips, sometimes letting go soft pants that come off as whimpers. 
“You’re gonna cum in me like a good boy, okay? You know you want to”, you hum once more, before a soft moan leaves your lips when you feel him grow even more in your cunt, his cockhead pressing against your g-spot when your hips lower down once more to fit him fully once more.
Yeosang is able to lock his fucked out eyes with yours, looking at you with so much desire, so much adoration, before his eyes roll back, his jaw slacks, his abdomen completely flexed. He’s in so much bliss, the pleasure tingling—streaming like electricity across every single nerve that existed in his body as his cock squirts so much thick and warm cum right into your tight little hole. He couldn’t even tell you that he was about to cum before it happened. All he hears is your soft voice, coaxing him to empty it all in your pussy, with broken moans in between. 
When Yeosang is barely recovered from his high, your fingers are under his chin, gently guiding his head to face you, still sat prettily on his spent cock. 
“Good boy. Look at the pretty mess you’ve made”, you praise, leaning back, forcing him to watch you pull out of him. His cock is decorated in a pretty translucent, wet coat of cum, but what completely flips something in him is when your fingers slide to your wet folds, barely pulling them open, and the thick, white cum trickles out of your hole. Yeosang is completely entranced and breathless. And he’s completely hard again. 
“You filled me up so good, Yeo,” you smile, even though at the same time whimpering as another load seeps past your folds. 
When you untie his restraints, Yeosang has your legs pushed into a mating press, his cock entering you once again, with much ease thanks to the extra lubricant of cum, before his mind completely blanks out, sanity and rationale somewhere else on earth, just not with him, while his hands pin your wrists above you, and he fucks you like a starved man before breeding another load into you. 
Since that night, it was all Yeosang could think about. The bondage was definitely fun, the orgasm denial was heavenly, but nothing could top the way you made him breed you like that. Before he realises it, he’s addicted. 
The condoms now were all forgotten at the bottom of the drawer. Yeosang thinks this completely ruined when using condoms, so he stops—the feeling of his bare cock being squeezed raw by your pussy gets him off so fucking fast now.
He would have you seated on his cock, riding him, creaming on him, squeezing him before he empties his load right into you, making sure you milk him dry of every single drop. 
You were right. Your cunt was made to be his cum dumpster. And Yeosang can’t get enough. 
It was to the point that he bought a full length mirror that faced the bed from an angle, and he would have you ride him, while he watches from the mirror the way his cock is swallowed full by your pussy, your moans accompanying his cock hitting in the deeper areas of your cunt. He would grab a handful of your ass, spreading your cheeks wider, watching the way he forces his cock to go deeper in you, and the fucking cries that come out of you? So fucking delicious. 
If it wasn’t fucking you on cowgirl, he would have you face the mirror, legs spread wide open, his cock stuffing you full from the bottom in full view in the mirror. 
Either way, he never misses the way his cum dribbles and drips out of your pussy hole, usually accompanied by your shaking thighs and breaths. 
And then he would slide his cock right back in, making sure he breeds you full for the next two rounds. 
His words in the bedroom turned more dirty too, reminding you that his cock will always have enough to fill you up over and over again until he is satisfied.
The extent? He even videos some of the fucking if he doesn’t have time to fuck and breed you on days and weeks when he’s unable to meet you.
The phone is pointed right at your pussy, propped on a tripod from an angle, so his phone camera is able to capture the scene in full. Your legs are wide open, your mind hazy from the euphoria. 
“We’re not done yet, baby”, Yeosang reminds you, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing them lower. The camera catches your cunt in full view, before Yeosang’s cock comes into view, sliding right into you, immediately thrusting right into you, and it records your choked moans and the obscene sounds of the both you fucking like rabbits. 
“Fuck, Yeo, you’re so deep,” you cry out, eyes rolling back when his cock hits your sensitive spot. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum so much on your cock”
Yeosang’s low voice only pushes you further, and he encourages you, “that’s it baby. Doesn’t that feel good too?” His thrusts are becoming ruts, desperate and feral, making sure you feel it all the way in your stomach before you completely let go, your walls convulse against his cock before he spills his load right into you once more. He pulls out, rubbing his cockhead on your folds without much friction, no thanks to the cream and cum. 
Then he moves away, giving you a few seconds before cum starts to trickle out of you once more. His fingers come into view, rubbing both sides your folds before he pulls them open slightly so even more cum seeps out onto the soiled sheets beneath you. You’re so out of it, still recovering from your high before Yeosang dives in for another wet kiss. 
Yeosang moves out of the frame once more, his hand reaching out to halt the recording, his mind buzzing with excitement to watch such a perverted video when he’s away from you. He tosses the phone onto the bed, giving soothing rubs on your thighs while his muscled arms are wrapped around you, kissing the back of your neck. 
His thumb swipes across your bottom lip affectionately while the both of you cuddle. 
“What are you thinking about?” You ask, your fingers dancing along his biceps. 
“Thinking about how I should fuck and breed you in public too, make sure you keep my cum nicely in your pussy while we go on our date. And if you don’t, I’ll keep breeding you till you’re begging me to stop.”
You stare at him, speechless and you think to yourself-- what the fuck have you done?
2K notes · View notes
imaginedanvrs · 27 days
Text
atonement
masterlist
camp counselor!wanda x reader
word count: 6k
warnings: homophobia and homophobic slurs, conversion therapy, manipulation, gaslighting, references to drug use, unhealthy power dynamics (so rape), noncon to dubcon, cunnilingus, degrading, fingering, nipple play, size kink, general mean Wanda
a/n: me? posting blasphemous content on Easter Sunday? I would never
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It looked harmless enough. You weren’t sure what you had been anticipating, mostly because you had been trying to keep your mind off of the unavoidable destination, but it certainly wasn’t the depressing place you had expected. No, they were smart enough to keep that reality away from the parents that dropped their ‘troubled’ children off. If anything, it looked like the kind of summer camp that a lot of your friends would be enjoying about that time. 
  There wasn’t a church for one thing. In its place was what appeared to be a ranch style house that had kept its traditional family features such as the pair of rocking chairs on the porch and the maintained flowerbed around the borders. On either side of the building, closing in the driveway, were several other intimate buildings that created the impression of a community style living. They were all decorated with various posters about god’s love and acceptance that you guessed you were going to be hearing a lot about during your stay. 
  Your mother got out of the car first as a man who looked like he was still being dressed by his own mum jogged over from the main house to greet you both. You clenched your grip on your bag strap before deciding to face the music and follow her lead, still examining the area sceptically as your mother and the man introduced themselves. Your mother failed to deliver the same excitement the blonde did, but she attempted to force it nonetheless while your hosts laughed easily at something she had said.
  You weren’t listening to either of them as you retrieved your other bag from the boot of the car, not expecting the man to walk around the other side to greet you. “Y/n!” He said like you were an old friend. “I’m Reverend Vision but you can call me Rev Vis.” You most certainly weren’t going to be doing that. “We’re so happy to have you here, let me give you the grand tour of our home,” he beckoned. You trailed behind them.
  “Do you live on site?” Your mother asked.
  “Oh yes, me and the Mrs. We love our work,” he drowned on and began guiding you through the various rooms of the two buildings either side of his house. The more you learnt about the place, the more you began to dread your stay. There were ‘entertainment’ rooms that were filled with musical instruments and religious books and music. A canteen area fueled by the kitchen in which all of the students were to prepare every meal. A prayer room that was deserted at that time. Finally, the dorms. 
  Vision wasted no time in searching through your bags for anything that could “interfere with your journey” and came up empty handed, much to his well hidden disappointment. Your mother didn’t seem to notice it, too focused on the contents that came out of your bag, but you saw the flicker of his brow when he declared you were all good and began explaining the long lists of rules that you had no intention of memorising. 
  “And we do not allow any kind of sexual acts, with yourself or others,” he said lightly. Your mother shifted uncomfortably and you nodded. You had no intention of being caught by him with your hands down your pants when he did his checks during the night. You didn’t anticipate being there long because you were fully prepared to fake your conversion to heterosexuality. How hard could it be? Besides, you dreaded to think how much your parents were paying the capm under the illusion that they could somehow change you. You had to find it humorous, otherwise it would really fucking hurt. 
  It still did when you watched your family car disappear past the camp gates and into the dense tree line. You sighed, resting your head gently against the cool glass of your window and took in the camp in its entirety. It was a waste of beautiful land, you concluded as you examined where the large field met the changing trees. There were a couple guys in the camp uniform playing football on the grass while a cluster of girls sat to the side cheering them on. Apparently you had caught the end of the game, because Vision appeared on the edge of the grass and called them back inside, most likely to prepare for dinner. 
  “Y/n,” a voice behind you called. You spun around at the unexpected caller just as she opened her arms and enveloped you in a tight hug that took you wholly by surprise. 
 “Hi?” You greeted as a question, making the older woman chuckle as she held you before pulling away and keeping her soft hands on your arms as she took you in and allowed you to do the same. Holy fuck she was beautiful. Her striking emerald eyes bore straight through your own and somehow had the ability to make you feel entirely exposed, as though it would be futile to ever conceal anything from her, including your undeniable attraction to her. In contrast, her smile was soft and polite as she gazed at you in a friendly fondness you would with someone you haven't seen in a long time. There was something noticeably comforting in it and the way she carried an entirely put together personar that you wanted a peek beneath. Metaphorically of course… but also literally. 
  “I’m Wanda, Vision’s wife.” Rev Vis was punching way above his weight. This woman’s voice was even hot. Maybe pretending to be straight would be harder than you thought. 
  “Nice to meet you,” you smiled and glanced away awkwardly, finding her impossible to maintain eye contact with. She didn’t seem to care as she hooked her finger under your chin and turned your head to keep your attention on her. 
  “I have every faith you’re going to do so well here, sweetheart,” she told you fondly then dropped her hand and took a respectful step back. Right, gotta leave room for jesus. “Your roommate will be back soon then you too should head down for supper,” she instructed as she headed for the door.
  “Okay,” you nodded and pretended to unpack your bags. 
  “See you later, honey,” she said before disappearing. You exhaled a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding and collapsed onto your bed. 
*
Your first day dragged by painstakingly slowly. Between meals, you attended bible study taught by Vision who gave you his extra attention as it was your first time there. He asked you to compare your own relationship with god to that which he was teaching, expecting an answer in front of all the other students who had been through the same ordeal and spotted your lies as well as Vision did. Apparently everyone did the same when they started at the camp. 
  You had kitchen duty in the morning and garden duty in the afternoon (which was probably the least crap one) before you had to sit down for what felt like hours to listen to Vision sing about god on a guitar he didn’t know how to tune properly. During every interaction you had with him, all you could think about was how he had ended up with a woman like Wanda. Had they been high school sweethearts? Had their parents pushed them together? Did he have some kind of twisted blackmail over her? They were the only three explanations that made any sense to you but you weren’t about to ask any of the other students for their input. 
  As it turned out, your daily routine was also going to include a one on one session with the older woman which should have been something to act as a silver lining in your stay, but it was the most challenging aspect of all. 
  “When did your desire for women begin?” She asked after some small talk.
  “I’m not sure,” you lied in an effort to buy yourself some time to think of a good response. She smiled at you softly.
  “You can lie to me, but you can’t lie to god,” she informed lightly. 
  “A couple years ago,” you replied honestly. This seemed to please her. 
  “And how did it manifest?” She sounded genuinely curious to know, lulling you into being unexpectedly open with her. It wasn’t as though you had anyone else to talk about that stuff with. 
  “There was a girl in my class that I thought was pretty,” you told her as you recalled your first real crush. “I felt more when she smiled at me than I did when I kissed a boy.” Wanda smiled as though she could see the purity of your memory as well as you could. Except to her, it wasn’t so innocent. 
  “The devil likes to work his way into places we could never expect,” she told you and your smile dropped. “Especially when we’re naive,” she added. It sounded as though she didn’t hold anything against you and she wholly believed you had been seduced by the devil himself and that it was impossible for there to be any other explanation. 
  “I was seventeen,” you reasoned. “I wasn’t naive.” Wanda liked the challenge you gave her. That whisper of a promised defiance gave her a thrill she knew to keep a cap unless she was required to use it. She would do anything for her beloved students to guide them back on the right path, especially one that wore the face of morality so well. 
  “And what do you mean by that?” Wanda enquired. 
  “I knew- I know what desire and attraction feel like,” you told her without looking her in those expectant eyes that unknowingly glimmered at your revelation. 
  “Lust,” Wanda said simply. “One of the hardest sins to resist when it affects one so physically.” 
  “Surely it can’t be bad if it’s natural,” you pointed out. That was not the response the brunette wanted to hear.
  “It is not natural,” Wanda said so quickly that she had to take a moment to recollect herself as you looked at her with shock as you took in that momentary crack in her exterior. It was interesting to watch and you wondered why it had hit a nerve. Surely you weren’t the only one to come into her office and state the fact. 
  “Y/n,” she called slowly. “If lust comes to you while you are here, you must come and tell me,” she told you seriously. Yeah, you definitely wouldn’t be doing that. You agreed obediently anyway. 
  “Good,” she smiled again. “Now, is there anyone you currently feel ungodly towards?” 
  “The same girl,” you admitted sheepishly. Yes, you had had a variety of other minor crushes in the past couple years, but she always managed to fill you with that teasing anxiety that never fully manifested when she said hi to you. 
  Wanda raised her brows indiscreetly. “I hope you will soon be able to give that same loyalty to god,” she said. You didn’t give her a response, unsure of what to say when you had no intention of doing such a thing. “In time,” she added when she saw your hesitation. 
  “Maybe,” you muttered, meeting her half way. “Won’t he love me regardless?” You painted the question with an air of innocence that anyone else would have fallen for. But Wanda saw beyond that and knew you used the faux front purely to challenge her again. She was impressed. 
  “Of course,” she told you gently. “Always.”
*
You thought you were being subtle with the way you kept glancing over at the couple. It was breakfast time so there was a general murmur of conversation that you didn’t feel particularly pressed to join in with. All it did was teach you to avoid sitting with the group you had found yourself with again because they seemed to be the only students there who were actively participating in the conversion with the belief it would ‘fix them’. You pitied them in a way, but not enough to interfere with their ramblings about their opposite sex celebrity crushes. 
  Wanda caught your eye on one of the many times you had peered over. Vision was talking to her but apparently she was as distracted from her company as you were, more fixed on returning your gaze. The corner of her lip twitched when you realised you’d been caught and you swiftly looked away to stare down at your cereal, actively keeping your wandering gaze on the other side of the room for the rest of the meal. 
*
“So what did you do to end up here?” A curly haired boy asked as he strolled into the kitchen you occupied alone. He was swinging a tea towel in his hands as he joined you and started on drying the washing up you had started. 
  “Got caught making out with the pastor’s daughter,” you said stoically.
  “You’re fucking with me,” he grinned and your composure cracked. 
  “Yeah, but it’s much cooler than the truth,” you told him honestly as he jumped up onto the counter. 
  “I’m sure it’s not that bad. My grandma walked in on me with my dick down my best friend’s ass,” he told you and you couldn’t stop the laugh that rose promptly. You grinned at the boy next to you in disbelief, thankful that your own luck wasn’t that bad. “Your turn,” he prompted. 
  “I told my best friend that I like girls. She told my parents,” you said humorously, as though it didn’t hurt like a bitch just to remember. 
  “I think I have better mates than you,” he concluded. You didn’t argue with that. “I’m James.”
  “Y/n,” you replied. “How long have you been here?”
  “Four months.”
  “What?” You splashed some water over the floor when your hand slipped in shock and James yelped when some drops hit him then started chuckling at the look you were giving him. 
  “What? Did you think it was only going to last a couple weeks?”
  “Kinda, yeah,” you muttered as you returned your attention to your chore. “Do you think you’ll be out soon?”
  “Nah, they know I’m bullshitting them. We all are, of course, but some of them can trick themselves into believing it, which is good enough for Vision.” 
  “Yeah, I know Wanda sees right through me,” you told him. “Which by the way, that makes no sense right?”
  “I reckon he’s holding her family captive,” James stated simply. You laughed with him easily, glad you had found someone like minded to you. “Hey, do you wanna get high?”
*
The nimble threads at the bottom of your uniformed cardigan were multiplying as your stay at the camp went by. Your fingers frequently found their way to them when you were uncomfortable, which was more often than not, and pulled at the finer threads until you unintentionally collected a small bundle in the palm of your hands that you had to hide. Vision never commented on it, but Wanda did, telling you that it represented your impulse to repress your femininity or some bullshit like that. 
  You left the threads alone and laced your hands together in your lap when she gave you a pointed look from her office chair and you muttered an apology. 
  “I’ve noticed you and James have become quite close,” she commented. “I must admit I was hoping you would find better company in some of the other students here. James doesn’t provide the best example to follow,” she told you. 
  “We’re just friends,” you shrugged, slightly irked that the older woman had a problem with the one refuge you had been able to find in the camp. 
  “Are you friends with anyone else here?” She questioned, not yet providing you the warm smile she offered every time you stepped into her office or saw her in general. She didn’t look happy that day. She looked troubled but you didn’t believe that was solely down to your decision to spend time with James. 
  “Not yet,” you told her even though you weren’t planning on expanding your social circle. Though if it was only two people it must be more of a line. Still, adding that unfulfilled optimism was meant to appease Wanda. You should have expected her to see it for what it really was. 
  “What do you and James talk about?” She wasn’t going to let it go.
  “Our lives, I guess,” you shrugged. 
  “Your experiences,” Wanda said for you. You knew there was no point in denying that when your glance towards her told her all she needed to know. 
  “Sometimes.” 
  “You should only discuss those topics with myself or Vision, otherwise you may end up having those experiences affirmed and encouraged,” she explained pointedly. You nodded uncomfortably as your fingers found their ways to your threads again only to snap back in place when you felt Wanda’s eyes momentarily burn into you. Something was very different with her. “So tell me what you discussed,” she pushed. 
  “I told him how much I dislike kissing boys,” you told her matter of factly as you tried to suppress your rising irritation. Maybe it was her job, but you hated her need to know everything you and James did. 
  “And you want to kiss girls instead?”
  “I want to do a lot of things with them,” you laid on the innocence thick, playing your role as the good christian who was simply admitting to how she had been led astray and just wanted to atone for her sins. As always, Wanda saw through your facade though that time it made her tick. You knew exactly what you were doing, you just had no idea the effect it was having on the older woman. You had no idea that your insistence on pretending to be good while knowing you were bad stirred something in her that she wasn’t supposed to feel. You were pushing those sinful desires that had infiltrated your mind right into her own and she wouldn’t allow it. 
  “That’s all for today,” she declared without giving a response to your statement. It hadn’t even been your full session time, maybe more like half of it. 
  “Okay,” you said slowly as you stood up. 
  “I suggest you spend the rest of your evening with your roommate today,” she told you as you lingered in the doorway. 
  “Right, bye,” you bid awkwardly, frowning to yourself as you walked away.
  The moment the door closed Wanda sighed heavily and leant back in her chair, catching sight of the framed photo of herself and Vision when they went on a hiking holiday in Colorado. The both beamed at the camera as they held each other close, though Wanda’s love for her husband had been as dim as it was in the present. But it was what god wanted. What god certainly didn’t want was for Wanda to allow her mind to wander to you in the way it had during that session when you had been taunting her with that faux naivety that everyone else seemed to fall for. 
  She had such hope for you when she first met you. But the images you had put in her head of her hand disappearing beneath your skirt as her lips clashed with yours, pinning you down to that very couch you perched on, that was something that could not be allowed to flourish, no matter how it made her throb between her legs. Wanda forced herself to stare at her husband’s image and remember when he used to make her feel that way, but those memories of his breathless features beneath her were replaced with your own and suddenly she couldn’t help but ponder what your sweet moans would sound like next to her ear as her fingers dipped inside-
  “Lord help me,” Wanda called, but he never came. 
*
You and Wanda both faced your own new challenges as the weeks went by. For you, your only refuge was gone. James had been sent back home randomly one night after an incident that no one would discuss with you. You had written your numbers on pieces of paper before that night, but it had disappeared as mysteriously as James had and gave you an equally chilling feeling. You had no idea what was going to happen to him when he arrived home without the results he had been sent away to achieve. Would they send him somewhere else? Somewhere worse? The only thing you could do was try not to end up like him. 
  Unfortunately, Wanda knew that nothing had changed within you. You continued to try and fool her with your illusion of innocence, reciting what Vision had taught you, socialising with the committed students and answering her questions in the way she wanted to hear rather than the truth. Little did you know that your efforts to quicken your release from the camp were futile, because Wanda simply didn’t want you gone yet. You were fighting a losing battle, just as she was. 
  As much as she despised to acknowledge it, the brunette fought her own desires as much as you did. It made her hate how much she was drawn to you. It made her ashamed of the acts she envisaged herself performing with you and how she just knew in her heart that you would so willingly part your legs for her. She wasn’t blind to your attraction to her, she had encountered it enough in her career to see it a mile away, no matter how discreet you thought you were being. 
  “I think I’m getting better,” you lied as you peered at Wanda cautiously. 
  “And what makes you say that?” The older woman inquired, humouring your plain fib. 
  “I don’t think about girls,” you said as you willed yourself not to look at Wanda’s long legs that were crossed eloquently. 
  “What do you think about?” You hadn’t been prepared for that. 
  “God?” Wrong. Obviously wrong. Wanda hummed and you knew that meant she didn’t buy it. 
  “Y/n, I want you to start being more honest with me.” You froze and didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I’m aware that you’re not progressing, so I think we should try something new. Just you and me.” You frowned and risked looking up to the confident woman, not having a clue of the excitement that manifested so secretly. “Are you familiar with penance?” You were, yet you had no idea where Wanda was going with it. 
  “There are many different forms. Some fast, some pray, some confess, but as we practise most of that here anyway, I want to try something else,” Wanda explained as she stood up from her chair and sauntered over to the desk in the corner of her office. You heard her rummaging around in the draws as a feeling of unease began to emerge in your chest. Rightfully so, because when Wanda turned back around, she held a riding crop firmly in her grasp. 
  “Stand up,” she instructed and you quickly did so as you eyed the tool in her hands. “Usually you would do this yourself, but I don’t believe you’re capable,” she explained lightly. “Hold out your hand.”
  “Wanda,” you said as you kept your hand glued to your side. “I don’t want to.” Her features were deceivingly gentle as she listened to you. 
  “I don’t want to do this to you either, sweetheart. It’s just the only solution. So hold out your hand,” she repeated, gripping the crop so tight you could hear the leather stretch in her grasp. It unsettled you greatly. 
  “But it will hurt,” you objected, eyes wide. Wanda could have laughed at how oblivious you were to her intentions.
  “It’s meant to,” she said simply and grabbed your wrist with a force that completely paralleled the softness of her tone. 
  “Wanda-” you tried to yank your hand back but you weren’t as strong as the brunette who only had to hold you with one hand while the other brought the crop down hard. 
  You cried out but Wanda used her grip on you to pull you flush against her chest, her features having turned ice cold. Her lips formed a straight line and her eyes pierced through your own with a sharpness that was usually dulled. The next words she uttered were void of that nurturing faith she used with everyone else and were replaced with something much darker. “If you keep struggling I’ll bend you over that desk and whip your ass instead.” You trembled against her, trying to decipher what your best bet was. When you took too long to decide, Wanda reached around and groped your ass, digging the crop in as she did so as though to make sure you knew she was serious. Your breath hitched as you found yourself completely trapped against the woman that squeezed you through your skirt. You whimpered, riling her up more until you nodded. 
  “Good,” Wanda exhaled, calming the heat she was struck with at the sight of your fearful eyes. “With every strike, you’re going to confess something you’ve lied about to me.” There were so many lies to choose from that when the first strike came, you struggled to pick one out. “Confess,” Wanda demanded, all of her patience suddenly absent. 
  “I don’t like boys, I like girls,” you admitted in a rush, refusing to look at Wanda or your burning hand that she struck again. “I’m not doing the work,” you continued. Wanda remained dissatisfied, striking your raw palm again and again as you admitted to your lies, none of which being what Wanda wanted to hear. 
  “I touch myself!” That was what she was looking for. 
  “Look at me,” Wanda instructed, examining the tear streaks down your cheeks as you whimpered. It was clear you were trying to appear strong and indifferent, but it was quickly becoming too much. The older woman cooed at you as dropped the crop to the couch behind you and took a hold of your inflamed hand, rubbing the abused hand with a tenderness that only made it burn more. 
  “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Her smile had grown sinister and you realised you were nowhere near done. “What thoughts do you touch yourself to?” Wanda questioned further, rubbing the most tender areas of your palm. 
  “Lying with a woman,” you hiccuped, hoping the harmless phrasing could somehow ease your next punishment. 
  “Who?” She pushed, gripping your chin roughly and forcing you to look straight ahead at her as you confessed what she already knew. 
  “You,” you whispered. Arousal rushed to the forefront of Wanda’s mind, and with it came anger. You weren't allowed to make her feel the way you did. She had a husband and she was a faithful Christian wife until you showed up and infected her mind with your own illness. You had to be put in your place. 
  In a blur, you were laying flat on the sofa you had lied continuously to Wanda on. You were barely given the chance to react before Wanda hiked her leg over your chest and straddled you with a purely feral look upon her face. You felt a strike of fear hit you, however you also weren’t blind to how attractive Wanda looked in her state of desperation. It may have been a desperation to reclaim control and to punish you for her own feelings, but it was hot nonetheless. 
  “You’ve been tempting me ever since you got here,” she hissed, feeling under her conservative skirt for a moment before she lifted it up around her waist. “This is your fault,” Wanda told you as you soaked in the view of her exposed pussy just inches from your face. You could smell her arousal and when she moved to lower herself onto your awaiting mouth, you eagerly grabbed at the back of her thighs until she slapped you away. “You don’t get to touch me with those filthy fingers, just let me use you.” Although you knew it was terribly wrong, you felt your own cunt heat up at her instructions. You knew that it was fucked up that the married woman wanted to get off on riding your mouth, but you wanted it so bad. 
  “Just like that,” Wanda sighed as you ran your tongue through her wet folds and sucked on them lightly, aiming to savour every drop and inch of her. “Put your tongue out,” she continued to demand. As soon as you did, Wanda began to vigorously grind her clit against your muscle, allowing your tastebuds to become ablaze with her as she cursed above you. You had never heard her swear before and knew she would scold anyone who muttered anything close, so knowing you could elicit such a reaction from her made your insides twist with pride. 
  She didn’t argue when you switched to sucking on her pulsing clit and felt it throb in your mouth. You moaned against her as her movements continued and her thighs locked around her head. It felt as though she really was using you for her own pleasure, not caring about your own or any comfort. You were the shameful bliss she was forbidden to engage with, but it felt incredible to ignore her god and use you as she wished. But she was really disobeying him, she was just teaching you a lesson. It wasn’t really sinning. 
  “Fuck, don’t stop. Don’t you dare stop, you slut!” Wanda cried out as she became engulfed with the sensations you gave her. You had no intention of stopping as you shifted to pushing your tongue inside her. You were met by the tight squeeze of her walls and felt your own clench at the discovery she hadn’t had sex in a while. That explained why she was so sensitive too. Besides yourself, you smirked into the older woman and doubled your efforts. 
  It didn’t take long for Wanda to get close to the bliss she had become stranger to and you weren’t about to let her lose that. She knew her body, even after some time of depriving herself, and told you exactly what to do to get her there. “That’s it, that’s it,” she panted, head swimming as she erratically thrust herself onto her mouth and came with a sharp cry. You moaned against her, adamant on tasting your reward as Wanda trembled on top of you and eventually forced herself off when you didn’t stop. She wasn’t about to let greed overcome her. 
  You looked up at her with a hesitant smile that was apparently the last thing Wanda wanted to see. She glared at you and immediately lifted you up and spun you around so that you were leaning over the armrest on the sofa, not allowing you a second to object. “What-” you tried but she didn’t want to hear it. 
  “We’re not done,” she said without care as she lifted your own skirt over your back and yanked down your soaked underwear. She bit her lip at the sight of the wetness that stained them and threw them over to her desk for safe keeping, definitely not to sniff and use to get off later. 
  “Desperate whore,” she muttered to herself as she ran two fingers through your drenched lips. “You want to get fucked so bad? I’ll show you what it’s like to get fucked.” She let the threat loom over you as dipped her digits into you lightly, barely enough to stimulate you but enough for her to decipher how tight you were. Wanda groaned when she felt you clench in anticipation, desperate for any touch you would give her. At that, she let the remains of her self control slip away and thrust her fingers in at once. “So tight,” she commented as you clung onto the sofa, moaning at the feeling of her filling you up in the way you had dreamed ever since you first met the older woman. 
  “Wanda,” you whined when she spread her fingers out within you to push your walls. 
  “Shut up,” she hissed, refusing to listen to your pathetic pleas on the tip of your tongue. “Take it.” And you did. You bit into the couch to mute yourself as Wanda curled and thrust her fingers inside your wet cunt, mapping out every inch of you and pushing your body’s limits. She added a third finger without any consideration to your stifled whines. 
  Wanda, as she told herself, was only doing it to hurt you and punish you. You deserved it for sinning so openly in her home and for attempting to corrupt her. It wouldn’t work, she convinced herself, she wouldn’t succumb to your lust but she had to show you the right path. She had to make you ache. With that in mind, she added a fourth finger and pumped her fingers in wildly. 
  You cried out into the material you sunk your teeth into, feeling your pussy sting at the stretch Wanda was causing. Still, you continued to soak down to her palm. It just hurt so good. Too good for Wanda to allow, so she snuck her hand under your shirt and bra to take your nipples between her fingers and twist them cruelly. You whimpered at the unnecessary act, making Wanda grin triumphantly. 
  Despite the pain, it did little to distract you from the heat between your legs that was quickly growing out of control. Having stretched you out as much as she pleased, Wanda was able to thrust her fingers inside you without mercy, attacking every sensitive nerve until you became a mess on the sofa she was meant to therapise you on. “You going to cum for me, whore?” Wanda asked when she felt you twitch around her. You mumbled a yes you were lucky she heard. “You’re so pathetic like this, so weak to temptation,” she scolded you with a wicked smile you couldn’t see. “Cum for me.” That was all it took for your muscles to clench tightly around her and let go. You moaned like the whore she saw you as as you came, gripping onto the sofa for dear life as Wanda continued to ruthlessly pump her digits into your cunt. 
  “Too much,” you whined when she failed to stop. She didn’t listen. You came down from one orgasm and soon went tumbling into another when Wadna kept up her actions, making sure to drive her point home. You squirmed under her as your body became overstimulated but there was no room or strength for you to move away. “Please!” You begged as you bucked into her palm, unable to stop the contradicting action that served to amuse Wanda. 
  “So sensitive,” Wanda mused, coaxing you through another orgasm until she deemed that the message had gone through enough. You collapsed in a defeated heap as she stood up from the sofa and corrected her uniform as though you weren’t even there. You missed her taking her tainted digits into her mouth to appease her curiosity. Lord, she thought as she tasted your sweetness. She swiftly pushed away the impulse to keep you down and taste your sweetness directly from the source. She had to keep things professional after all. 
  “See me first thing in the morning,” she instructed, features still flushed with lingering lust. She had given into temptation and whether she liked it or not, she would indulge in you again. You weren’t going home anytime soon.
1K notes · View notes
jobean12-blog · 2 months
Text
This Spells Love
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (Best friends to lovers)
Word Count: 2,782
Summary: Bucky is your best friend and he really is the best but he wants more, he wants everything, but the idea that it could ruin your friendship and he could lose you is too much...
Author's Note: This is for @the-slumberparty February Sleepover Challenge, Eight Types of Love and Philia (deep friendshp-friends to lovers). Our reader is a bit oblivious to Bucky's feelings but it all works out just fine in the end. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤��❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!
Warnings: lots of fun and fluff and sweetness and Bucky being the best and some tension and a bit of flirty fun too, slightly oblivious reader.
Tumblr media
The groan Bucky lets loose makes you spin your head to look at him.
“Did you say something?” you ask, trying to speak loud enough over the din of the bar.
He shakes his head no and digs his teeth into his bottom lip when you smile and shift again in his lap, turning back to your group of friends. Every time you move it’s sweet torture but he can’t seem to keep himself away…and besides, there are no empty seats…he can’t let you stand and you wouldn’t want him to stand…so sitting in his lap it is!
His fingers dig into your thigh and you turn to face him again.
“Are you sure?” you ask, searching his face.
“Yeah, doll. All good.”
Steve shoots Bucky a smirk and Bucky shoots back a steady death glare.
“Did I miss something?” you ask Nat, who’s sitting to your left.
She just smiles and takes a sip of her drink.
You can feel Bucky’s warm breath on your neck before he speaks.
“You want another doll face?” he asks.
With a pensive tilt of your head you pause before telling him, “yeah, one more.”
“I’ll be right back,” he whispers against your ear.
He deposits you in the seat and walks toward the bar.
You instantly feel his absence and fiddle with your empty glass. You listen to Steve and Sam argue about their last run time while Nat and Wanda chime in, teasing both boys but the conversation starts to fade away when you feel the weight of Bucky’s eyes and you look toward the bar to catch him staring.
He waves awkwardly and you giggle.
“I’ll be right back,” you say to the table.
When you reach the bar Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in question.
“You looked bored,” you shrug.
“Thanks doll,” he winks.
There are even more people by the bar and they continue to crowd around you, pushing to get closer. When someone bumps you particularly hard Bucky pins them with a murderous stare before he slips his metal arm around your waist and pulls you in front of him.
He settles both hands on the bar top on either side of you and leans his chin on your shoulder.
“Too many people,” he explains as his hard chest presses into your back.
You snuggle into the safety of his arms and wait for your drink.
“Are you ever gonna say something to her man?” Sam asks Bucky as they stand outside the bar with Steve.
You, Wanda and Nat are in the bathroom.
“About what?” Bucky asks with an incredulous expression.
Sam rolls his eyes and Steve’s hands land on his hips.
“Buck,” Steve sighs. “You’re torturing yourself.”
“No I’m not,” Bucky counters. “Not having her at all would be torture.”
His last words come out quietly and Sam and Steve give each other a knowing look.
“Well, I still think you should do something…say something…she might feel the same way. What have you got to lose?” Sam asks.
“Everything,” Bucky answers as he watches you come out the door and back to his side.
Tumblr media
As you walk down the street toward your apartment building you can feel Bucky staring so you give him a sideways glance.
“It’s the shoes, isn’t it?” he demands when he catches your eye.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say and lift your chin.
“This always happens at the end of the night doll face. You wear these shoes and they hurt your feet and then I’m supposed to just watch you suffer.”
 “I have a solution,” you chime with a determined smile.
He stops walking to watch as you slip off your shoes and place your bare feet back onto the sidewalk with a contented sigh.
When you see Bucky’s scowl it makes your smile widen. “What’s the problem now Barnes?”
“Put them back on doll. You’re going to step on something like broken glass or worse…”
You spin away with a breeze and start walking again but before you get very far your feet leave the ground and you’re cradled against his chest.
“You were put on his Earth to drive me crazy; you know that doll face?”
“I’m not sorry about it,” you whisper into the collar of his shirt. “Does that make me a bad person?”
You giggle when you feel his huff of frustration.
“No. You could never be a bad person.”
As you nuzzle closer and inhale his familiar scent you express a quiet, “thank you,” before yawning.
“Too tired for the stars tonight?” he asks as his arms flex to heft you higher.
“No! I love when we look at the stars.” You tilt your head back and look at the sky. “It’s a clear night too.”
“Don’t you like it?” you ask, bringing your eyes back to his.
“I love it,” he says. “Just like I love when you practice new baking recipes and I get to taste test them all.”
“That’s fun for me too except that you say you like everything I bake! It can’t all be that good.”
You lay a soft hand against his scruffy cheek and the corner of his mouth kicks up.
“It’s all that good,” he says, his tone leaving no room for argument.
“Well the next time my macaroons don’t have good feet you better speak up Buck!”
“Macarons have feet…not macaroons…big difference,” he says.
You hum against his neck with a smile. “I know that. Just making sure were paying attention.”
His hold on you tightens slightly and he looks down just as your eyes start to close.
He’s always paying attention.
Tumblr media
Bucky slows his steps and turns on his heels, watching as Sam and Steve approach.
“Man you two are slow today,” he teases.
Steve purses his lips and throws a thumb in Sam’s direction. “I’m just trying to keep this one company.”
Sam grunts out a string of curses and plops down on the nearby bench.
“I can’t stand either of you,” Sam says between catching his breath.
“I have to make a phone call,” Bucky states as he saunters off for some privacy.
He presses your name on the screen and puts it to his ear.
“Hiya doll face,” he says when you pick up.
“Hi Buck!”
“Are you on your way home yet?”
“I am.”
“Pizza?”
“Sure, I’m starving…”
“Me t…”
“Of course you are,” you cut in. “You’re always hungry.”
He laughs. “Well I did just finish a run.”
“I’ll meet you at my place?” you ask.
“Sounds good, how much time do you need?”
You open your mouth to answer but the words die on your lips when your foot catches a crack on the sidewalk and you careen forward.
“Doll?” Bucky asks, “you still there?”
He hears scuffling but you still don’t answer.
“Doll?”
His heart beats faster the longer you don’t reply and instinctively his feet start to carry him toward your workplace.
“Where are you goin’?” Sam asks as Bucky runs by.
“Everything ok?” Steve asks.
“I gotta go,” is all Bucky says as he starts jogging.
He’s already half way to you when you pick your phone up off the concrete and try to say hello. The screen is cracked and black and you curse under your breath.
“Bucky?” you say softly but your phone is dead.
You try to put pressure on your ankle but it hurts and with a wince you scoot backwards to avoid the foot traffic. You search the crowd, waiting for someone to stop and help but it isn’t until you see Bucky rush toward you that you feel true relief.
He’s at your side, kneeling on the concrete and running his eyes over every inch of you. He’s sweaty and breathing heavily and one of the most welcoming sights you’ve ever seen.
“Thank fuck,” he breathes out. “I was worried sick.”
You start to say you’re sorry but he interrupts you.
“You tripped didn’t you?” he asks.
You nod.
“How?”
“My foot…got stuck. I don’t even know.”
He stares at you blankly before pinching the bridge of his nose. When he opens his mouth to speak you clap a hand over it.
“I know…I’m clumsy and I have to be more careful…just take me home.”
His expression softens.
“Of course doll, it’s a good thing I’m here.”
“It is,” you echo. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He gently brushes his fingers over your ankle, inspecting it.
“Come on doll. Let’s get some ice on this.”
When you reach the door of your apartment Bucky props you up against his side, his hand secured around your waist and his fingers slipping under your shirt when he moves so you can get your keys.
He sucks in a breath at the contact and you give him a confused look.
“What happened?”
“Nothin’,” he answers, willing his fingers to stay put and not explore your soft skin. “Got your keys?”
“Right here,” you say and hand them over.
He unlocks the door and helps you inside.
“We forgot the pizza!” you say, whirling around and nearly falling over since you’re mostly supporting yourself on one leg.
He reaches out and snakes his arm around your waist again. “Woah, careful doll face.”
You place a palm on his chest and lean into him. “I’m hungry.”
“I’ll order a pizza right now. Don’t worry.”
“Order two. You practically eat a whole one yourself.”
“True,” he winks.
He pulls out his phone and starts to dial the pizza place.
“Wanna stay and watch a movie?” you ask.
His fingers pause and hover over the buttons as he looks up at you. “Which movie?”
“Hmm…how about Magic Mike?”
“Doll.”
“Alien?”
“You won’t sleep for weeks,” he says with a stern look.
“Fine! What about…” and you tap your chin.
“Notting Hill,” he suggests.
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Really?”
“Sure,” he shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “Steve said I should watch it.”
You give him a wide smile and push from his grasp, limping toward your bedroom. Bucky watches until you safely sit yourself on the bed and then goes to the freezer to grab a frozen bag of vegetables.
“I can’t wait until the pizza gets here,” you sigh as you start to unbutton your shirt. He tries to focus on what you’re saying but when you pull the fabric from your shoulders and reveal the light camisole beneath he suddenly feels like a trapped animal needing to either pounce or run away at full speed.
“Will you put the movie on Buck? I don’t want to get up again.”
You collapse back onto the bed and needing the closest distraction he takes the bag of peas and places it on your ankle, adjusting it so it doesn’t fall.
“Thanks,” you say. “Don’t forget the movie Buck.”
He blinks at you several times. “You want to watch it in here? What about the couch?”
He gestures to himself. “Look at me. I can’t get in your bed like this. I’m a sweaty mess.”
“You smell good to me but if you want to shower, there are extra towels in the hall closet.”
You hear the water turn on a few minutes later and realize you’re thirsty so you peel yourself off the bed and limp to the kitchen, knowing Bucky will reprimand you when he realizes you got up without his help.
Once you have your water you go back to your bedroom and wait for the shower to turn off, closing your eyes briefly.
You don’t even realize you’ve lightly dozed off until you hear Bucky’s heavy tread on the wood floor. You open your eyes and see him standing in the doorway, filling the entire frame.
Shirtless. Skin still shiny with wetness and his jeans sitting low on his hips, revealing the V shape of his muscles. And then you drag your eyes higher and stare at his abs, now flexing as he lifts the towel and rubs it over his hair one last time.
His metal arm shines under the bright lights in your room, distracting you further but not enough to miss the droplet of water that escapes the swipe of the towel and rolls down his sharp jaw before sliding down his neck and between his pecs. It get’s lost somewhere in the valleys of his six pack but your eyes move down again, landing on the dark trail of hair below his belly button.
“Did you forget I was here doll face?” he asks.
The sound of his voice pulls you from your haze and your eyes shoot up to his.
“No…” you start. “I just…I don’t understand.”
“Understand what?”
“How?”
“Doll did you hit your head when you fell?”
“NO!” you answer far too loudly. “It’s not that. I’m fine. My ankle just hurts but I don’t understand how you have those abs.”
You motion to his stomach and he looks down.
“You eat whole pizzas!”
He throws his head back with a laugh and then drops the towel into your hamper. He’s still grinning when he rounds the bed and climbs in behind you, all his muscles flexing as he settles in.
“Yeah well, I run a lot…and you know the serum helps.”
Your laughter eases the tension a little but only until he places his hands beneath his head and stretches out, making your bed feel tiny.
“Why don’t you ever bring girls around Buck?”
Your question surprises both of you and your apology catches in your throat.
He sits up without warning and reaches for your glass of water, taking a long sip.
“Forget I asked,” you mumble. “I shouldn’t have.”
He shakes his head and takes another drink.
“Do you want me to bring girls around?”
Your immediate reaction is to inwardly scream NO! but instead you ask, “would we still be able to hang out like we do?”
“Probably not doll face,” he says and shifts closer. “Pretty sure you’d make any girl jealous.”
“Then no,” you whisper. “No girls.”
You look away with the admission and then blurt out.
“You smell like my bodywash now. Did you use my shampoo too?”
“Nah,” he murmurs. “Just used the bar soap.”
You face him again and then lean over to sniff his head.
“You definitely used it, don’t lie!”
Capitalizing on having you so close Bucky wraps his arm around you and draws you against his side. Your head lands on his shoulder and you instantly relax, feeling safe and warm.
“You smell good. I like it,” he murmurs.
“I like the way you smell better,” you say sleepily, mumbling something else incoherent before you start to doze off.
Tumblr media
You wake slowly and as the heaviness of sleep wears off you open your eyes to partial darkness and become acutely aware of the hum of anticipation that travels over your sensitized and warm skin. You feel taut and the building pressure between your legs makes you rub your thighs together.
Bucky’s steadying breath makes you turn in his arms, your chest brushing his. You can feel your pulse beat against your skin, pounding wildly all over your body.
For long seconds you study his face and then your eyes are obscured by your lashes when your gaze travels lower, over his bare chest and then even lower to the obvious bulge in his jeans.
“Bucky I…”
Your eyes lock for a fleeting moment and then his gaze drops to your mouth. He dips his head, running his nose along your jaw until his lips lightly brushing the skin of your cheek.
“If you want me to stop…tell me now.”
You say nothing, his delicate touch making your entire body tremble. Then his lips graze yours, just barely, the quick taste not nearly enough.
“Or now…”
Your eyes are closed and you make no sound.
He presses his lips to yours, softly at first, searching and waiting for you to react but when a moan gathers at the back of your throat it’s all the reassurance he needs and he sweeps his thumb across your cheek, cradling your face and angling your head for a deeper taste.
When he rolls his hips you feel the fullness of his arousal against your belly and your lips part on a gasp. A low growl rumbles in his chest and he pulls away to look at you.
“Is that for me?” you ask, still breathless.
“It’s all yours…if you want it.”
His eyes darken with the words and you see the heat in his intense gaze but it only makes you feel coveted and safe.
“I want you Bucky. I don’t want anyone but you.”
Tumblr media
@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @goldylions @kmc1989 @buckysdollforlife @blackwidownat2814
2K notes · View notes
mypoisonedvine · 1 month
Text
𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 | angus tully x reader (series finale)
read 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 and 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 first!
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | angus has been waiting to see you again, but the more feelings get involved, the more complicated your affair becomes.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 7k
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | SMUT (18+ only!!), mega angst but also fluff too, infidelity, boring old people parties, reader is still emotionally constipated and angus still has a breeding kink, but that's honestly it it's just a bunch of emotions so strap in folks!
Tumblr media
Angus was pretty sure he broke some kind of record, with how quickly he ran back to his room after talking to you on the payphone.
He was sure that was exactly what you were picturing him doing— he’d made it pretty clear what he’d do once you hung up, and you’d made it pretty difficult to do anything else with the way you were talking.  You’d been winding him up on purpose, of course; so yes, you could easily imagine him making a mad dash to his room and slamming the door— if you really ever thought about him outside of those phone calls.
That was the thing Angus couldn’t figure out about you.  Well, there were probably a lot of other things than that, but it was the quandary he spent the most time pondering: does she think about me?
Whenever he mustered the courage to ask you something to that effect, you would either change the subject or give a half-answer.  Something about how you had a dream about him the other night or how your parents asked about him— never what he was really asking.
But, frankly, at that moment as he shut his dorm room door and jumped into bed, whether or not you thought about him much was not as pertinent an issue.  Right then, all he could think about was getting his hand around his raging boner; his mind was just playing everything you’d said to him over the phone on repeat.
I’m touching myself right now, you’d whispered in a sultry voice, I’m so wet, Angus— fuck, I’m so wet…
He’d never had to work so hard to keep a straight face on the phone before… he figured if anyone was really looking, they’d notice how red he was turning or how he kept shifting uncomfortably.  And he told you just as much, which of course only encouraged you.  Don’t want them to know, huh? you’d taunted. Don’t want the other boys to find out you’re listening to me get off?
And no, he didn’t— you were such a precious thing, the boys here didn’t even deserve to imagine you— but when you offered to stop if it was too distracting, he only found himself shakily begging for more.
As he quickly opened his khaki pants and gripping his cock, he hissed through his teeth; his ego could barely take all you’d said about that cock, about how thick and ‘perfect’ (you used that exact word, perfect, and he thought he might float) it was, about how you wished you could come around it right then instead of your fingers.
“It’s all yours,” he mumbled to himself, under his breath, not even really noticing he was saying it aloud.  “You want it, baby?  It’s all fucking yours.”
He groaned as he stroked himself, the precum that had been leaking from his tip for a while making everything even easier.  Shutting his eyes tight, he pictured you, like he always did: all of you, everything, anything he could remember.
You ever think about me? you’d asked him over the phone— and he’d blurted out his always before he even realized you meant while he was getting off.  It was still true, but more specific than necessary.  He craved to hear you say it: I think about you too.  But he didn’t ask, and you just went back to moaning while you rubbed your clit— which, apparently, was already swollen and throbbing— and, well, he wasn’t strong enough to interrupt that.
“Fuck,” he grunted, deep in the back of his throat, finally letting his pace pick up until his hand was a blur: after all that anticipation and all that waiting, there was no use trying to hold back now.  It wasn’t like you were here to worry about him coming too fast, even though you’d still maintained you found it endearing when it happened.
He repeated your voice in his head, the moment that had made him worry he would blow his load in his trousers before he could even get off the phone and back to his room: I’m gonna come for you, you’d warned him in the most beautiful moaning voice, Angus— I want you so bad, oh god— I’m gonna come for you, fuck…
His lip caught between his teeth, his hips rocked up into his own palm.  “Yes, fuck, baby,” he panted, “I— fuck!”
He tried to conjure in his mind how it had felt to come inside you, but he knew even his vivid imagination could never really capture the feeling; nothing could even come close.  Still, remembering it and letting himself indulge in his strangest fantasies for just a moment sent him over the edge.  His face flushed suddenly as he came in long, heavy pulses, the back of his free hand falling over his open mouth yet doing little to suppress his moans.
It was intense— it was certainly better than his orgasms usually were when brought on by himself— but it only satisfied him for a moment.  The moment he was finished, with a deep breath in and his hips relaxing back down onto the mattress, he wanted more— he wanted you.
His heavy eyes glanced to the side, trying to remember what it felt like to lie next to you.  He’d never felt lonely after jerking off before he met you; now getting off seemed to bring a new wave of heartbreak each time.
When he shook off the thought and looked down at himself, he frowned as he realized he’d ruined his own shirt doing that— not that he could fully bring himself to regret it.
No, his regrets only really began a few weeks later, when the nagging loneliness in the back of his mind finally got the better of him.
It was the middle of the night when he wrote it, after he woke up from a dream of you that he just couldn’t shake from his mind.  After checking that his roommate was fast asleep, Angus carefully slipped out of bed and tip-toed to the desk, and pulling out a box of cards and envelopes from one of the drawers.  (He thought he’d never use them when his mom sent them with him at the beginning of the year, but a lot had changed since then.)
Something about the ungodly hour made him more honest— or maybe just more shameless.  He wrote a frantic ramble, everything he’d wanted to say to you that he’d never had the courage to blurt out over the phone; all the feelings he’d felt since that incredible night in the backseat of your car, which he’d assumed would fade… which he’d tried to convince himself would fade.
Unfortunately, even the adrenaline of writing down the thoughts of you he’d been poring over for over a month wasn’t enough to overpower exhaustion: he awoke the next morning slumped over the desk, the pen still uncapped and fallen a few inches from his hand, the letter left folded open.
He awoke to the sound of someone’s door shutting down the hall, specifically; jumping and blinking quickly, he looked at the window— it was morning, though still quite early— and then at his roommate who was, thank god, still asleep.
Angus looked back at the letter in front of him, only making out a few words in his brief glance, before his cheeks began to heat up and he quickly folded it shut.  As more footsteps moved through the hall, the boy in the bed nearby stirred and grumbled to himself, and Angus quickly snatched up the letter and shoved it in his book bag before he was caught red-handed.
Ironically, that little commotion was what actually got the other boy’s attention.  “What are you doing at the desk?” he asked groggily, rubbing one of his eyes with the back of his palm.
“Oh, I, uh— I had to do some late night cramming,” Angus explained nervously, “that big Geography test coming up and all…”
The half-awake boy seemed to notice for a moment that the story didn’t really make sense, on account of the empty desk, but he simply shrugged and tossed his blanket aside to get up as well.
For the rest of the day, Angus couldn’t think straight— and not just because of his mediocre rest and achy back from the absolutely terrible sleep posture he’d had.  He couldn’t stop thinking about the letter, even if he honestly couldn’t remember for certain everything he’d said… he couldn’t stop wondering if he should send it to you.  He almost didn’t want to read it again first— he wanted you to read it in its most authentic state, he wanted to mail it before he chickened out just like he had when you said you two could just stay casual.  Even if it made his heart race and his palms especially clammy, Angus decided in the middle of that goddamned Geography test that he was going to mail that letter tonight after dinner: he was finally just going to man up and tell you.
Of course, something went horribly wrong along the way: he made a fatal mistake.  Looking back on it, he couldn’t tell for certain if his mistake was falling for you in the first place, or writing the infamous letter, or shoulder-checking Kountze without holding on tight enough to his bag.
The argument that happened beforehand was petty and forgettable, even if it gathered a small crowd of Kountze’s friends, but it ended with Angus trying to walk away a tad… aggressively, and with Kountze grabbing him by the strap of his bag which not only knocked Angus off-balance but spilled the contents onto the floor of the dorm’s shared room.
Everyone saw the books and papers hit the ground; everyone saw the off-white cardstock land right on top.  Angus reached for the letter quickly, but Kountze beat him there, and held it back with a snicker.
“Well, well,” Kountze tutted proudly, “what’s this?”
“H-hey, don’t read that,” Angus warned, hoping the seriousness of his tone would somehow affect the other boy— but, obviously, it did not.  Kountze started to open it and Angus instantly made a dive for it, only to be stopped by three other students who apparently were curious as well about the letter.  “Don’t fucking read that!” Angus demanded.
“Oh god, it’s to a girl!” he realized.  “Do you have a girlfriend, Tully?”
“I swear to god, Kountze, if you fucking read that—”
“I miss you,” Kountze began to read aloud as Angus thrashed around to try to stop him, ���I miss you so much I don’t even know what to say.”
The boys holding Angus back were enraptured as Kountze read the letter; “Do you guys pay this much attention in class?” he mocked them, though they were ignoring him completely as they waited for the other boy to keep reading.
“I feel like I can’t breathe without you— aw, Tully, you’re a poet,” Kountze mocked with a smile.  Angus’ heart raced as he remembered what part of the letter came next.  “Not a day goes by where I don’t think about you and your smile— Jesus, this is some really sappy shit— or what it’s like talking with you for hours, or how it feels—”
He stopped, and Angus froze, and after a moment the group of boys started demanding the conclusion.  “What— what does it say?!” “Read it, Kountze!”
“How it feels to be inside you,” Kountze continued with wide eyes, staring at Angus’ bright red face as the other boys began to react loudly.
Angus renewed his struggle against the kids holding him back, but even though he was taller than them, he was severely outnumbered.  “Stop— that’s personal!” Angus demanded to no avail.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to my hand after having you,” Kountze continued with a laugh.  “From what I hear from your roommate, Tully, your hand is treating you just fine.”
“Shut up,” Angus hissed, but his words had lost their bite as his humiliation grew.
“I should’ve told you before I left—” he started, but finally Angus found some new strength within himself to shake off the boys holding him back: he dove at Kountze and took him down, scrambling to snatch the card away.  He was going to be satisfied with just that, but of course Kountze still had to open his mouth, even when Angus had him pinned.  “Jesus, Tully,” he scoffed, “how ugly is this chick that you got her to sleep with you?”
Angus brought a fist swiftly down to Kountze’s nose, who groaned in pain and held his face as Angus got up and ran away.  The other boys let him pass, thankfully, and Angus wasted no time getting to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Defiantly wiping a tear from his cheek, Angus took a quick look at the letter— wrinkled, stained and scuffed from the fight with Kountze— and crumpled it up, tossing it into his wastebasket before throwing himself onto his bed and hiding his head under the pillow.
He was stupid to even write it, let alone consider sending it; it was no use, you obviously didn’t feel the same way about him that he did about you.  You were the one who said it should just be what it was— a fling.  But Angus felt like he’d been flung directly into hell, the way it tore into his chest to imagine you didn’t really want him.
Even if he never read the letter again that day, he remembered how it ended— and it was the part he couldn’t get out of his mind even when he wanted more than anything to forget it all.
Is this what love feels like?
//
It reminded you a lot of that dinner over Christmas break, except somehow, it seemed like he was staring at you even more.  Shouldn’t he have gotten that out of his system a bit by now?
But then again, maybe you should’ve been more used to it, since it had been over an hour of picking away at this quail dinner, and he’d barely taken his eyes off of you.  Something about him looked different; it was basically impossible that he could’ve visibly aged in just a couple months, and yet he seemed like he was carrying just a bit more age on those thin shoulders.  Maybe it was just the slight five-o-clock shadow over his jaw— but, no, there was a different look in his eyes, too—
Realizing you were, in fact, staring back at him, you quickly snapped your gaze back down to your plate.
You’d been wanting a chance to talk to him before this dinner, to hopefully prevent exactly this issue, but once the dinner ended you found yourself avoiding him.  Of course you weren’t ready to talk to him— of course you had a million thoughts in your head and half of them didn’t even make sense.
For once, you actually tried to talk to all of your parents’ snooty friends, repeating the same answers over and over about how you were going to graduate school in the fall and how you were looking forward to your family’s Paris trip in the summer and all that jazz.  It was worth it to keep Angus off your back for a moment, even if you could still feel his eyes boring into said back from time to time.
Midway through a mind-numbingly boring conversation (if something so one-sided could be called a conversation) with the Gordons about renovations they’d done on their summer house, you glanced around the room over your shoulder and noticed that Angus was apparently absent.  His parents were still there, sitting on a couch— that is, his mom and stepdad— so he couldn’t be far, but out of view he was far enough.  Figuring he’d gone to the kitchen or the restroom, you figured it was the perfect time to disappear into the downstairs bedroom and, hopefully, hide out for the rest of the party.  Excusing yourself quickly, you made a polite dash for the other end of the room.
And yet, somehow, he appeared out of thin air; as you turned down the hallway, only a dim lamp on an antique credenza lighting your way, you heard Angus’ hushed voice behind you.  He laid his hand on your shoulder, and the moment you turned to face him, he was on you— his weight pressed you into the wall and you felt trapped in a way that was annoyingly pleasant.
“God, I missed you,” he breathed, kissing you hard and sudden; you whimpered a little, nearly melting into it, before you pushed him back at his shoulders.
“A-Angus, wait,” you sighed.  “You, um… you didn’t call for a while.”
“Oh,” he mumbled, “um, I’m sorry— I just got busy with midterms and stuff— but I really wanted to!”
He moved like he was about to kiss you again, but you kept your hand on his chest to keep him away.  “I wanted to tell you…” you trailed off.
“Tell me what?”
“You remember Brian Stevenson?” 
“Oh— um, yeah, I guess so,” Angus frowned a little, clearly confused by what seemed like a non sequitur.  “I used to go over to his house when I was little, although it was just to play with his little brother, but… yeah, I remember him.”
“I’ve been sorta, y’know… going with him,” you explained, hesitantly meeting Angus’ gaze just in time to see the most terrible sadness cover his face.
“O-oh,” he choked out, quickly stepping back from you and shoving his hands in his pockets.
“Yeah…” you mumbled, twisting your loafer-clad foot on the carpet nervously.  “It’s just, you know, he asked me out a couple weeks ago, and ever since then—”
“So is he, like, your boyfriend?” Angus pressed.  You nodded.  He looked away.  “Right— that’s… cool.  That’s cool.”
You bit your lip slightly, hating that he wouldn’t look at you all of a sudden.  “Angus, it’s just that, you know, we said—”
“Right,” he interrupted sharply.  “Right, I remember what we said— what you said, that we weren’t— you know.  That it wasn’t anything.”
“I didn’t say that—” you tried to correct him.
“You said you were mine,” he added suddenly, making your eyes widen.  “Did you even mean that?”
“I— Angus, come on,” you laughed nervously.  “That’s… that’s just something people say…”
He scoffed, and looked to the side as he pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek; contempt looked sort of good on him, you thought, except that it was directed at you.  He was trying to hide it, but his eyes were watering.
“I’m sorry,” you began but he cut you off right away.
“No, don’t do that,” he shook his head quickly, crossing his arms and staring down at the floor.  “Don’t lie to me anymore.”
“No— I really am,” you tried to assure.
“Hey, it’s fine,” he insisted sharply.  “It’s— you know, it is what it is.  It was just one of those things.”
“If it’s fine, then look at me,” you pleaded.  He didn’t.  And for a long moment, the two of you stood there, still and silent.
“It’s fine,” he repeated softly, turning on his heel.
“Angus, wait,” you hissed, not wanting to raise your voice with all the guests not too far away— of course, it was fruitless, and he briskly blended back in with the crowd.
Sighing, you dropped your head into your hands.  That wasn’t how you ever wanted this to go, you never wanted to hurt him; honestly, you’d assumed he’d be irritated, but not… sad.  Not devastated.  Of course he would prefer to be getting laid, but you figured he wouldn’t have too much trouble finding some other girl to screw around with— sometimes, you’d wondered if he already had.
It was supposed to be easy, it was supposed to be casual, it was supposed to be fun.  You couldn’t think of anything you’d ever done, or anything you’d ever felt, that was less fun than this.
//
It made a strange sort of sense that the next time you saw him was at another party.  Of course, this party was entirely different from the last one: for one, it was hosted by your boyfriend, and there sure as hell wasn’t any quail.  There was a lot more alcohol, though.
You were hanging off to the side, not feeling quite up for mixing in with the crowd as they danced to the record Brian had put on.  Even if they spared you from the same boring questions that your parents’ friends bombarded you with, they were uninteresting in their own way as every conversation seemed to come back to politics or pot.
Brian startled you a bit by coming up beside you, resting his hand on the small of your back.  “Hey,” he greeted, and you smiled up at him.  Your eyes lingered on his face— he looked… grown up.  It was probably just because he had a beard; he certainly didn’t always act grown up, but overall, Brian was perfectly acceptable.  He’d asked you out, he’d actually had the bravery for that, so that was a great head start.
You tried to shake the thought out of your mind, looking away from him; it wasn’t a head start because this wasn’t a race.  Who, after all, would he be racing against?
For some reason, your eyes turned to the front door— and you bit your lip as you saw Angus coming inside, slipping off his coat and looking around the room (for you, presumably).  He looked even more haggard than before: a little pale, eyes sunken and dark, and he definitely hadn’t shaved since you saw him.
Brian looked to find where you were staring, and frowned slightly.  “Who’s that?” he asked.
“Oh, um— Angus Tully, his parents are friends with mine, I used to babysit him when he was a kid.”
You knew that wasn’t really what he was asking, so you weren’t surprised when he got to the point more directly: “What’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” you shrugged, hoping Brian wouldn’t somehow figure out that your heart was racing.
Brian’s hand moved up to your shoulder and gave it a squeeze, just as Angus noticed you and hurriedly shoved his way through the crowd to come face-to-face with you.
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” he asked, his voice raspy and hurried as he took a quick glance at Brian in his peripheral.
“Um— sure,” you agreed awkwardly, not sure which answer would be less suspicious.  Of course, when you glanced at Brian, he just looked mildly annoyed— bored, even.  You realized in that moment that you didn’t need to worry about him suspecting you and Angus of anything, because he barely registered Angus’ existence: he certainly wouldn’t acknowledge him as some kind of sexual threat.
“Privately,” Angus added— and that actually got Brian’s attention, though he seemed more aware of your discomfort than anything.
“Anything you wanna say to her, you can say in front of me,” Brian assured firmly, and Angus swallowed anxiously— it was obvious from the bob of his Adam’s apple.
“Actually, uh, somebody was looking for you out front,” Angus told him.  “Something about a keg getting delivered to the wrong house?”
“Shit,” Brian hissed, dropping his hand from your shoulder and looking towards the door again.  “Fucking idiots…”
Having made quick work of Brian, Angus put his attention back on you.  “Let’s go outside,” he suggested.
“W-we can just talk here,” you tried to say, but he was already grabbing your wrist and guiding you out; why did your heart still skip when he touched you?
Once he’d taken you through the kitchen and out to the back porch— where you could still hear the music and chatter, but it was much quieter— you spoke.
“Angus, I really am sorry about— you know— but you can’t just—” you started.
“It’s not over yet,” he insisted, surprising you with his intensity; you leaned back against the wooden railing, and he stood just a little too close with those dark brown eyes piercing through you.
“If you tell me you’re happy with Brian, I’ll leave you alone,” Angus decided, puffing up his chest a bit.
“I’m happy with Brian,” you said sternly.
A brief moment passed.  “Okay, I lied,” Angus admitted.
“Jesus,” you hissed.
“But only because I don’t believe you!” he explained.  “We were so good together.”
“Yeah, we were,” you admitted, “but… it’s over now.”
“No— it’s not.  It can’t be!” he insisted with a whine, and you scoffed as you shook your head.
“Angus, you’re being childish,” you scolded.
“Oh, don’t say that,” he grimaced.  “Don’t hold that against me— I’m not stupid, you know.”
“Of course you’re not— but you’re not thinking clearly.”
“Damn right I’m not!” he spat.  “You’re all I could think about, for months!  Months, I couldn’t fucking get you out of my head!  And not just the, you know, the dirty stuff— everything.  Every moment I spent with you, every dumb thing we talked about for hours, every time you laughed at one of my shitty jokes—”
“Angus, please,” you breathed, glancing down; you could only take so much of this, and you worried he was figuring that out.
“Does he make you laugh?” Angus pressed, stepping a bit closer to you.  “Does he make you feel special?  Does he make you come?”
“Yes,” you said sharply, “he’s great, okay?  I’m happy— so please just stop fucking this up for me.”
“Okay, fine,” he conceded, “you’re happy, I believe you.  But… but what about me, y’know?  He doesn’t need you like I do.”
Your face warmed up and you crossed your arms tighter, staring down at the ground.
“Of course he likes you— who wouldn’t?  But he couldn’t even imagine how I feel about you— how long I’ve been thinking about you.  I mean, I’ve wanted you since I was a kid!  You’re my dream girl!”
“That’s— that has nothing to do with me,” you tried to explain.  “That’s a fantasy!”
“But it’s real, baby,” he sighed, bringing his hands up to gently hold your arms at either side.  “It’s so real, you know it is.”
You didn’t even have the heart to deny it— or to tell him not to call you that.  You knew if you looked up at him, you wouldn’t be able to fight him anymore; he must’ve known that, too, because he delicately lifted your chin until you met his gaze.
And then he kissed you: tender, sweet, and shameless.  He didn’t care if anyone saw, if anyone knew— even Brian.  You, on the other hand, still cared enough to try to stop him; but even you couldn’t resist a kiss like this, and you found your hands pulling him closer as quickly as they’d tried to push him away.
He took you home, without another word about what this meant or where you stood with each other.  You snuck him into your room and he climbed into bed with you and he touched you like he’d been waiting a lot longer than just a few months for this moment.  Frankly, you were beginning to realize that you’d been waiting a lot longer for this, too.
Before, Angus had always been talkative during sex— sometimes annoyingly so.  But this time, he didn’t say a damn thing; neither of you did.  And yet, somehow, just by the way he looked at you, just by the way he held you, just by the way he moved inside you... you felt like you heard more than you ever had.
//
You sat next to each other on the bench, staring forward into the dark treeline ahead— there was still a layer of frost around their roots, and a new snow had begun to fall even if it wasn’t cold enough for it to stick on the pavement.  You tried not to look at him too long, in case it made this any harder, but you did appreciate that he seemed a bit more put together than he had the last time you went a few days without seeing him.  He was clean-shaven, too… is it wrong that you kinda missed the stubble?
“Thanks for, you know… giving me a couple days to think about it,” you mumbled, and he nodded.
“I thought you might have somewhere better to be on a Friday night,” he said— trying to lighten the mood a bit, you could tell; trying to make you comfortable.
“Well, even if I did, I think this needs to be done,” you explained, and he pressed his lips together a bit.
He waited patiently, though, for you to break the silence and explain yourself, even if he didn’t seem too surprised when you did it.
“It was a mistake,” you decided.  “It was great, but it was a mistake— and I’d really appreciate if we could just… let it go.  And if you didn’t tell Brian.”
“Okay,” he nodded slowly.  “I wasn’t gonna tell him.  But I still think you should dump him.”
“Well, that’s my decision,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.
“I know,” he breathed.
You could already tell, just by the way the next silence began, that he was going to interrupt it with something stupid… you just never expected how stupid.
“The thing is— I love you,” he blurted out suddenly, turning to look at you again as your eyes widened.  “I fucking love you.”
“Angus, I— you can’t—!” you choked out, but he continued before you could try to think of a response.
“I know I do— don’t say I don’t know what that is, or that I’m too young or something stupid like that,” he pleaded.  “I know how I feel, okay?  When you miss somebody this much, when you think about somebody this much— what else could love be, but that?”
You sighed, looking away, and he moved closer to you on the bench.  Even if you knew it was preposterous that someone else would be in the park at the end of the street at this time of night, you still fought the urge to look over your shoulder.
“Don’t tell me I’m crazy,” he breathed.  “You love me too, don’t you?  I mean— I thought you basically forgot I existed, but last night… that sort of thing doesn’t just happen, does it?  It’s not… it’s not usually like that.”
“No, it’s not,” you admitted, “that was different.”
He perked up, smiling wide when you looked at him again.  “Just say it,” he begged, “say you love me too— ‘cause I know you do.”
“I— Angus, it’s more complicated than that,” you explained.  “We’re still— there’s Brian, for one thing… we can’t really go on like this, you know that.”
“I know— I don’t want to keep doing this.  I want to really be together,” he replied.  You tried to turn your body away from his slightly, but he grabbed your hands and held them tight until you looked at him again.  “I’m almost done with high school— I’ll go to college where you’re going for grad school!”
You shook your head.  “No, you can’t do that.”
“Just think about it: us, together— we could actually go on real dates, and go to college parties together, and, like, study out at the library— or, you know, whatever you college kids do,” he fantasized.  You smiled, but shook your head again.
“We… we can’t do that,” you denied.
He frowned, and turned away from you, staring darkly at the ground.  “I knew it,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  “You’re embarrassed— you’re ashamed of me.”
“What?!” you blurted out.  “Angus, no—”
“It’s okay,” he said in a terribly unconvincing way, crossing his arms.  “I don’t blame you: I’m just some dumb kid from your hometown.  You want a guy your age— not some random freshman… you want something better.”
“That’s bullshit,” you replied instantly, “you can do so much better.”
“C’mon, I’ll never do better than you,” he insisted.
Even though he’d misunderstood you, your heart still swelled a bit at the compliment.  “I meant for college, Angus,” you explained, and he deflated a little.  “You can do a lot better than a state school.”
“Well, I, um… I don’t know if I can,” he admitted nervously.  “My grades are kinda… inconsistent.  And I went to so many different high schools—”
“Who gives a shit?” you scoffed.  “You’re fucking smart— way smarter than anybody else here.  You act like an idiot sometimes, but you’re eighteen, it kinda comes with the territory.”
He frowned, but couldn’t exactly deny it.
“You deserve to go somewhere amazing,” you told him.  “You need to go somewhere amazing— and do something amazing.”
For a long moment, he just stared out into the dark; until, suddenly, he whipped his head back around at you with a quizzical look on his face.  “Wait— is that what this is all about?”
“What?”
“Do you not want to be with me because you think you’d, like, hold me back or something?” he accused.
You blinked quickly; something about the way he said be with me caught you off-guard— like it was a term much more mature than you had expected from him.  Instead of answering directly, you just stammered.  “Well, y-you’re young, and—” 
He cut you off quickly with a laugh.  “Oh my god!  You think I give a shit about that?”
“No,” you shot back, “but you should.  You realize how fucking dumb it would be to change your whole life for the first person you ever slept with?”
“When you put it like that, it sounds dumb,” he admitted, looking down at his feet swinging over the edge.  “But what if it’s somebody that, you know, you think you really have a shot with?  What if it’s somebody that you feel like you can’t live without?  Somebody that makes you finally get all those songs you hear on the radio—”
“It only feels like this to you because you’ve never felt anything else,” you explained gently.  “It’s your first love.  It fades.”
“But I don’t want it to,” he said instantly, looking at you with the most heartbreaking eyes you’d ever seen.  “God, I don’t want it to.”
You looked up at him as his hand brushed over your face, and felt tears welling before you could fight them off; he kissed you, in a way that you thought he might have never really kissed you before.  In a way nobody had kissed you before, in fact.  It wasn’t very long, but it felt like it might as well have gone on forever.
When he broke away, he kept his eyes shut, and he pressed his forehead to yours as his thumb stroked your cheek.  “Tell me it doesn’t have to end,” he breathed, “please.  Tell me it’s not going to end.”
“It has to,” you whispered back, watching his shoulders sink and bringing your hand up to clutch at his chest.  “It has to end, someday.”
You took a shaky breath, watching a tear fall from his jaw onto your arm, feeling everything you’d held back finally breaking through as your grip on shirt tightened and your lip began to quiver.
“But it doesn’t have to be tonight,” you sighed.
Gasping with relief and joy simultaneously, he kissed you again, and pulled you closer at your waist, and wrapped you up in his arms tightly.
There was, of course, this nagging voice at the back of your mind— that maybe it didn’t have to end.  And god, you wanted to silence that thought permanently if you could, because it had never done you any good.  That hope had only ever led to pain before.  But, without it, nothing would ever really have a chance: if you weren’t willing to risk the heartache, you’d never let yourself love Angus the way that he deserved and the way that you knew, deep down, you already did.
So, as he kissed you that way you thought people only kissed in movies, and whispered to you those words you thought people only said because they were poets and dreamers, you realized that maybe it didn’t have to end someday.  Maybe he would spend the next several years of your lives convincing you that you didn’t need to protect yourself from your own feelings.  Maybe he would actually have the patience to break down walls he never built, to fix wounds he didn’t leave.  Maybe he was ready to give you something to believe in, something worth taking risks for while you were still young and reckless.  Maybe he, like the oncoming equinox, would melt your ice so new life could grow.
Or, maybe, this feeling he had really would fade once he gained a little more life experience; maybe you would make too many mistakes for him to forgive.  Maybe you would always be friends, or maybe you would have too much history to be able to see each other again.  Maybe you would grow apart— maybe you would have to brace yourself for that, to sit next to him on a cold dorm room mattress as you both realized it just wasn’t working anymore.
The most important thing that you realized in that moment— that eternal moment in his arms, in the dark, in the last snow of Spring— was that it didn’t matter.  It didn’t have to be forever to be perfect; it didn’t have to be the ending to be beautiful.  He loved you.  Even if you were still trying to figure out why, he loved you; and that was true, and real, and special.  His love couldn’t fix you, but it made you feel fixable, and you hadn’t seen yourself that way in a long time— you could only dream that you might see yourself the way he saw you.
When you pulled back from the kiss for a moment, you smiled wide— you laughed, actually— and sniffled as he wiped your tears away.  “I love you,” you told him, and even though he kissed you again, you didn’t stop saying it.  You wanted to keep it on your lips until it didn’t scare you anymore; you wanted to keep your heart open, even if it made you vulnerable, maybe because it made you vulnerable.  After all, you couldn’t ever be sure it wouldn’t come back to bite you… if you could, it wouldn’t mean anything.
Even though all you said to him was I love you, each one meant something a bit different.  I trust you.  I’m not sure I’m ready, but I’m going to try.  I’m sorry.  I’m so glad I met you.  I’ll never forget you.  Please don’t let me go.
Somehow, you felt like he heard each one.  Each time he told you that he loved you, though, you heard the same thing: I won’t let you go, ever.
//
Easter Mass was relatively pleasant, if a little too long.  You did notice Angus sitting with his family, across the aisle and a few rows back, but you only gave him a quick wave before the service started and managed to resist glancing back at him after that.
The best part of Easter was always afterwards, though: you stood at the furthest end of the lawn, in front of the ivy-covered exterior wall of the chapel, as children ran around snatching up colorful eggs to collect for their baskets.  Even if it was totally stupid, and irrelevant to the actual message of the holiday that the priest had just spent the whole service hammering in, you got a kick out of the fancy clothes and tiny dress shoes, the squeals of delight, the candy and toys in bright pastels.  You were just thankful the weather had warmed up in the nick of time for all the festivities— indoor egg hunts never have quite the same effect.
Angus sauntered up beside you, sipping on a styrofoam cup of complimentary coffee, and you didn’t even look at each other, but you both smiled.
“They’re cute,” he stated after a little while.
“Yeah,” you agreed.
“Do you wanna have a kid?” he asked, and you gave him a hesitant glance only to find him looking right back at you— his expression was friendly, but neutral enough that you couldn’t read if he meant having a kid with him or just, you know, in general.
Deciding it must be the second one, you let out a soft, nervous laugh.  “Uh, I dunno… maybe someday,” you offered, as non-committal as possible.
“How about right now?” he challenged, lowering his voice slightly, but not enough to stop you from glancing around to make sure nobody heard.
“Angus, fucking Christ,” you coughed.  “Don’t joke about that.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged.  “I mean, maybe I’m not being literal, but that doesn’t mean I’m not being serious.”
“Well… we can’t,” you mumbled, looking out at the lawn again, hoping not to stand out too much.  “Not here.”
“I know, I know,” he agreed, and the two of you fell back into a silence— an oddly comfortable one, even.  You crossed your arms as you watched the kids run around and he kept sipping on his coffee.  After a few moments, though, you spoke again.
“Meet you in the Sunday school room in the West wing in five minutes?”
“Yup,” he said, already turning to leave.  You smiled slightly to yourself, glancing down at your white shoes planted in the grass.  Even on such a delicately-manicured lawn, wildflowers were already springing up— little periwinkle diamonds scattered here and there.
When what felt like a reasonable amount of time passed, you made your careful and casual exit from the egg hunt to slip back inside.  Once you were away from the crowds and on your way to meet Angus, you couldn’t stop yourself from running… and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling, either.
1K notes · View notes
suashii · 6 months
Text
꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ 𝒲𝒜𝒩𝒟𝐸𝑅𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝐸𝒴𝐸𝒮 — attractive things they do
Tumblr media
info ⭑  includes: itoshi rin, shidou ryusei, oliver aiku, mikage reo, michael kaiser, yukimiya kenyu ノ suggestive bordering nsfw (minors do not interact) ノ all character written 19+  
Tumblr media
₊˚ପ⊹ RIN guides you by your waist. when you’re playing around and purposely blocking his path, his arms stretch out to take a hold of you before effortlessly reversing your positions with the click of his tongue and an easy, lazy smirk. it’s also one of the few physical actions he’ll display in public, preferring it over holding hands or slinging an arm around your shoulders. he can see you this way, keep you in his sights. when you’re not paying any mind to your surroundings and nearly walk into traffic, he pulls you into him and gives you a squeeze, leaning down to whisper “be careful” against your skin. you jump at his touch and the feel of his breath tickling your ear, cheeks burning with the reminder of where his hands were roaming and exploring the night before.
₊˚ପ⊹ SHIDOU walks around the apartment in sweatpants that hang incredibly low on his hips. your focus shifts from the pot of water you’re waiting to boil to ryusei as he pads into the kitchen after finishing his shower. beads of water drip from his hair onto his bare chest and roll down his tanned skin until they reach his v-line. you don’t realize the water on the stove has come to a boil until shidou clears his throat, jerking his head at the stove. “you’re staring real hard, pretty,” he drawls with a lazy grin. it only takes a few strides for him to close the gap between the two of you. his hands grip the counter on either side of you, trapping you in place as fuchsia eyes filled with mischief stare down at your figure. “something more you wanna see?”
₊˚ପ⊹ OLIVER intently stares at your lips whenever you’re talking. to be fair, each conversation starts with his eyes on yours but they always happen to drift down to your mouth. he takes in their natural pout and the subtle shine that your chapstick leaves behind on them. eventually, his mind begins to wander. he thinks about how soft they would feel sucking hickeys onto the pulse of his neck and across his collarbone or wrapped around the head of his—"are you even listening?“ you ask with crossed arms, the corners of your lips turnings down in a frown. "of course i am,” he tells you, finally dragging his gaze up to your eyes. “i just hear you better this way, that’s all.”
₊˚ପ⊹ REO puts his hands over yours every time you reach for your wallet to pay. he can feel the way your fingers wriggle beneath his palm, but he ignores the movement, intertwining his fingers with yours while he pulls out his card and hands it to the cashier. he’s got more money to his name than he knows what to do with, so it only makes sense for him to spoil you. he might smile and breathe out a laugh when you slap his shoulder and frown, sulking about how you feel bad for spending all his money, but he hears you. if you really feel like paying him back, he can think of a couple of ways you could do so—some that are better suited taking place in the bedroom.
₊˚ପ⊹ KAISER tilts your chin up with his finger whenever you refuse to look at him. it shouldn’t surprise you, seeing him offer fans smiles and hugs, but you can’t help but think about it when the two of you are taking your leave. “are you seriously mad?” he asks from beside you, and it wouldn’t have upset you if he didn’t laugh like it was unreasonable. you scoff and roll your eyes but before you’re able to make it any closer to the door, you’re being tugged back. all too suddenly, kaiser is in front of you, his hooked finger angling your head up and forcing you to meet his azure gaze. “you know i only have eyes for you, right?” he murmurs, like his words are meant for you and you alone. he’ll show you that his statement holds true when you get home.
₊˚ପ⊹ YUKIMIYA uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe away his sweat. on the occasion that you accompany him to a weekend practice or individual workout, you tend to look out for it. after the intense training when he’s cooling down, you watch attentively as he drags the hem of his shirt across his upper lip to collect the beads of perspiration. the motion leaves his abdomen exposed, putting the defined lines of his abs and the trail of dark hair peeking out from his shorts on display. your staring isn’t as discreet as you think it is but yukimiya doesn’t mind it. even after he catches you gawking, he keeps his shirt pulled up so as to not interrupt your view. when finally do look up at him, he’s peering at you over his glasses, tongue running along his lower lip.
Tumblr media
hey! it's manon :3 ! thank you for giving this a read! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment! much love from me to you ❤︎
2K notes · View notes
atrwriting · 9 months
Text
more, more, more — carmy x reader
Tumblr media
carmen berzatto x coworker!reader
listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.
i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.
as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed
also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off
barely edited we die like men
i stole that joke don’t come for me
anyway....
you didn’t really know how it happened.
you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.
natalie berzatto.
her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.
unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.
carmen.
fucking carmen.
while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.
however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.
when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.
the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.
carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.
you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?
carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home
so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.
you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.
so you knocked.
and barely waited.
carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.
“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.
he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”
“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”
he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”
you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”
“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”
you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”
one drink definitely did not hurt.
drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.
how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.
“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”
“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”
you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”
“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”
“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”
“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”
you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”
“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”
“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.
he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.
you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.
“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”
“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”
“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”
“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”
he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”
“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”
there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.
you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.
you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.
however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.
and he did nothing.
so you could do nothing.
you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.
you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.
like they had with the glass, moments ago.
you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.
when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.
you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”
“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”
you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.
“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”
his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”
you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.
carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.
“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”
“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”
you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.
“fuck.”
with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.
the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.
“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.
you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.
“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”
“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”
you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.
it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.
what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.
in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.
he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.
and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.
he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.
“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.
he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.
“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”
he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.
“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”
“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”
“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.
“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.
his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.
“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.
“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”
he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”
heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.
“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.
carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.
“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”
carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.
“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”
“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”
“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“
“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”
“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”
“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”
that broke you.
that fucking broke you.
it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.
with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”
it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.
“pretty girl.”
“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”
“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”
once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.
“greedy.”
you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”
he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”
you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.
carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.
“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”
he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”
you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.
but when he spoke, you froze.
“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”
you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.
“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.
you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.
“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”
“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?
you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.
“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.
“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”
both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.
the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.
carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.
“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”
“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”
“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.
“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.
your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.
“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”
“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”
“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”
fuck.
that set him off.
carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?
fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.
carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.
it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.
“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.
there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.
the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.
“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.
the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.
“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.
you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.
“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”
“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.
you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.
“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”
he pressed his thumb against your clit.
you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.
“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”
he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.
but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.
“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”
“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“
“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”
you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.
“gonna give me what i want?”
“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”
“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”
your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.
white. pure white.
your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.
still rubbing those fucking circles.
“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”
“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”
your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.
“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”
his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.
“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”
you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.
you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.
against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”
“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.
“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“
“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.
carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.
“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”
your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”
he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."
-----
lmk what you think :) love yall -L
5K notes · View notes
neopuppy · 5 months
Text
Pretzel (M)
Tumblr media
pairing. alpha jeno x female omega reader
genre. non-traditional a/b/o AU, and they were roommates, pw-barely any-p, M/F, one shot
warnings. profanity, gamer Jeno, mild e2l, smut warnings under cut. minors DNI.
wc. 8k+
now playing. pretzel//nct dream
smut warnings. unprotected sex, heat sex, masturbation, oral, possessiveness, choking, biting, degradation/praise, knotting, wet messy slicked up filth
———————————————————
Today is going to be a good day, because today you woke up with renewed motivation despite another restless night.
Your apartment is the perfect walking distance from work. Utilities are included in the rent, there’s an adorable bakery across the street that serves the best almond croissants, and the balcony has an amazing view of the mountains.
Not to mention rent was more than within your budget.
Nothing can ever actually be perfect though, your roommate reminds you as he steps out of his bedroom reeking of pungent Alpha scent, shooting you a wink on the way to the bathroom.
“Morning, Omega.”
Your apartment is perfect, other than one insufferable factor.
Jeno Lee moved in last week after your landlord had promised you ‘no issue’ of housing you with another Omega. No issue until it became an issue, that is.
‘You said Alphas aren’t permitted on this floor!’
Mr. Huang shrugs, blaming his son's lack of diligence. ‘Ah, I give him one task! You kids never listen.’
‘I don’t care! I can’t live with an Alpha!’
‘It will be temporary, okay? Technically he paid the first month’s rent in full along with the entire deposit before you. So unless you want to be out on the street by the end of the day, I suggest you learn to live with it. Besides, it’s not the 1900s anymore, what Omega doesn’t use heat suppressants these days?’
You, of course.
Not that you had reason to divulge your medical history to nothing more than a stranger.
‘How soon can you relocate me?’
‘As soon as another tenant moves out, it’s all yours! I’ll make a note of it right now!’
Mr. Huang, of course, failed to mention the fact that none of his current leases had less than 6 months left to go.
‘Us Alphas get a bad reputation for no reason! Anywho! Jeno seems like a really nice young man!”
“Temporary my ass.” You mutter, picking burnt bits off your breakfast. A really nice young man, or the bane of your existence.
Jeno, your new roommate who makes zero effort to shut the bathroom door before dropping his towel, leaving every inch of skin visible for your puffy half-awake eyes to take in.
Jeno, your new roommate who smirks without breaking his gaze while shutting the door enough for the latch to somehow never lock.
Jeno, your new roommate who has no qualms about how loud his moans bounce off the tile shower walls.
Jeno, your new roommate who strolls through the living room still dripping wet, scrubbing his hair dry aimlessly on his way to the kitchen to sit across from you and take a bite of your uneaten toast while scrolling through his phone, occasionally nudging into your shoulder to point out something he finds hilarious.
Jeno, your new roommate who manages to disrupt your peaceful perfection any chance he gets.
———————————————————
“You don’t get it.”
“What’s not to get? You live with a sexy Alpha, and you’re terminally single. Of course I get it!” Your best friend says, clicking her tongue snarkily. 
“Me being single has nothing to do with this!” You snap back, pacing back and forth through your living room. Occasionally bending to pick up the various scattered belongings your roommate never seems to put away, from different remotes for his numerous consoles to empty snack wrappers. 
“Wait, these are my chips!” You snicker, turning on your heel to storm into the kitchen. “This guy has no respect for me, he thinks I’m an idiot!”
“Oh come on, don’t be ridiculous! He seemed really nice the other day when I dropped you off.”
“You met him for 2 seconds and asked me if he has a girlfriend, you have no right to an opinion.” Shifting your phone between your shoulder and ear, you begin to inspect your cabinet, noticing different items missing.
“I knew it!” You exclaim, glaring before quickly explaining that you need to hang up.
“Jeno! did you eat my ramen again?!?”
Another day of living with an Alpha, and another day full of frustration.
From your toothpaste spilling out because someone continues to lie about using it and never properly closing the tube, to your roommate carrying the faint scent of your favorite body wash combined with his overbearing zesty bergamot Alpha musk. Not to mention the amount of times you’ve noticed your groceries diminishing before you could even touch them.
Jeno has more than just an affinity for your belongings, he either had to be doing this on purpose, to annoy you, or he truly did not comprehend the meaning of ‘invasion of privacy’.
“Jeno!” 
It’s Sunday, the day you both coincidentally always end up staying home. Not that you do go out for much other than for work and to complete errands— something your roommate never fails to mention when taunting you for being a stay-at-home ‘hermit’.
The beginning of your tantrum goes unnoticed, of course, because while every little thing he does manages to itch through your limbs in the most irritating of ways, Jeno could care less. Your presence never fazed him, if anything you only brought amusement to his day the more you’d stomp and reprimand him over minuscule happenings.
“Jeno!” Another shout of his name is the only warning you give before breaking into his bedroom. The crinkled empty packet of ramen gripped tightly in your hold; because why bother throwing out the evidence after eating the last pack? That would mean he gave a shit.
“Jeno! what the fuck is your prob—“
The scent of crushed up lemon hits you first before the familiar bergamot; dripping sticky bitter fruity juice between, staining everything surrounding along the way with acid. It’s more than overwhelming, locking your knees together, melting your feet to the floor, ferociously curling through your gut. 
It’s not Jeno’s usual scent, it’s arousal. His usually annoying scent that clings to every inch of this apartment clouded by raw, depraved, hungry, unmated feral Alpha arousal.
The headphones attached to his head block out the sound of your shrill annoyance, computer screen in front of him displaying a video of a desperate Omega clawing at bed sheets; hurled closer to the camera filming them. Rough thrusts and a fist secured in her hair rip her neck into a painful arch, making the shot of her breasts clapping together much too clear. Tear stained cheeks glow ahead, lifted up by a smile and what you can only assume from reading her lips is ‘More! PLEASE more!’
Jeno grunts from his chest, a loud thwack of skin meeting skin blends with the thick buzz of pleasure filling the four walls you stand awestruck in the middle of, unable to convince yourself to leave and pretend this never happened.
The empty package of ramen drops from your fingers, clutching at your stomach to calm the heat that’s begun to spring, pushing lower the more seconds pass stuck in place; lost to the humid scent of your roommate’s sweat trickling down the side of his face.
Too engulfed with his need to get off, the Alpha has yet to notice you; his profile illuminated by the screen radiating the most light in his dimly lit bedroom. Hems focused, gnawing on his bottom lip with skin folded between his eyebrows, releasing short staggered breaths the faster his forearm jerks. Floppy strands of dark blue hair bounce above his sharp eyebrows, muscular arm rippling beautifully under the shadowed light the more power he exerts.
The deafening obscene sound of flesh meeting flesh draws your gaze lower, choking on a dry inhale at the sight of the tip of his glistening length.  
‘This is an invasion of privacy’ you think, convincing yourself to step back without caution. 
“Ughh, fuck!” Jeno’s voice rings out deep, gravelly and strained as if he’s been edging himself for hours, and maybe he has..
The realization that you’d last seen him this morning on his way to the kitchen flashes across the back of your mind. 
Jeno had paused in his tracks upon spotting you stretched in a split on a yoga mat. Skin tight shorts riding up your bottom, bunched up between your cheeks catching him off guard with his foot stuck mid-air.
‘Uhh..’
Peering over your shoulder, you see his jaws half hung open, his pink lips parted with a lost gaze. ‘What?’
He didn’t respond, continuing to eye from the curve in your stretched foot up to your waist dipping in, unable to neglect a throbbing sensation starting to form inside of his sweats.
‘Jeno!’ You called out annoyed, twisting into another stretch that only arches your back deeper. ‘Do you need something?’
The Alpha straightened up, clearing his throat with a shake of his head before continuing to the kitchen, his hands mindlessly reaching for your half of the cabinet in search of something to munch on; he hadn’t had time to go to the store this week yet, and maybe your food just tastes better than his.
Fuck.
Jeno couldn’t stop himself from sneaking looks over his shoulder, struck by the way you’d gently blot your face free of sweat. The rise and fall of your chest only spurting more thoughts he knows better than to allow himself to have.
It’s been almost a month of this now, of struggling to keep himself collected each time he leaves his room to find you either glaring at him from the kitchen table over a steaming cup of coffee or bent over in some suggestive position. Whether it be with your head buried in a cabinet searching for your favorite ramen bowl that he may or may not have purposely hidden, or your stupid pilates stretches. Those stupid stupid positions you put yourself in, some he had no idea one could even contort themself into.
It wasn’t much at first, Jeno thought sure, yeah, you’re cute. Maybe you’re really cute, especially when you huff and puff around your shared living quarters complaining about your toothpaste again.
It really was a mistake the first time he used it, but the way you bursted into his room screaming about how you pay extra to maintain a pearly white smile tickled him more than it should have. 
Creamy wash dangled from the dispenser of your favorite body wash, the one that blended beautifully with your natural scent and clung to the shower walls even hours after you’d already finished washing up. He swiped it off, dragging the sugary sweet white soap down the center of his chest. A spark of excitement heightened the lower he dragged, easy to imagine you there, taking your time to scrub and rub the bubbly foam over your skin until it felt silky smooth; as silky smooth as your bare arm felt against his bumping into each other in the hallway. Soft enough for an apology to get lost on his lips..
‘Sor—‘ Jeno drifted off, the area you grazed prickling on his arm. A tingle shot up his limb from the slight contact, curling his sock covered toes into the carpet while you glared and cursed him under your breath back on your way inside of your bedroom as if you felt nothing at all.
He tried to stay subtle about it, knowing you threw a fit about getting paired with an Alpha to live with, but it became more difficult with each passing day.
Maybe snatching a pair of your underwear had been a mistake, but as he saw them fall from your freshly dried hamper of laundry he couldn’t deny this must be fate. Not with how soft the cotton material felt against his nose, not with the fresh and airy scent of your wash sticking to his palms. 
Maybe jerking off with a handful of your body wash hadn’t been the best idea, but he couldn’t deny how much easier picturing you on your knees under the showerhead had become, even after cumming on the wall with his face smashed against the foggy tile; sadly watching his need for you swirl it’s way down the drain.
That’s how Jeno found himself once again searching up Omega’s submitting for their Alpha on the heat hub.
Maybe he returned to the search page for roommates fucking during heats and ruts more than once, maybe he never clicked out. Especially from one particular video featuring an Omega with similar features as yours, an added bonus that she too hated her roommate much like you.
“UGH!” Another whined groan snaps you back to reality, stumbling back as Jeno’s hips jump forward, fucking into his fist faster to climax in time with the video playing.
The bend in his neck accompanied with a string of moans shatters your resilience, stepping on your own foot with the other too distracted as you step back. The small shelf near his door meets your elbow and crashes down, pouring out a pile of video games and DVDs noisily; cursing under your breath at your failed attempt to sneak away without notice.
“Shitshitshit!”
“What the fuck?!” Jeno twists fast, too fast, lunging his head back with the headphones still plugged into his computer. He scatters, speedily shoving his length back inside of his sweats with one hand as his other works to shut off the screen. “What the fuck are you doing in here!”
“I—I—“ dropping to your knees, you try to speak. Tongue heavy in your mouth causing you to stutter, aimlessly patting for the door frame to get out. A familiar pang of heat quickly surfaces, screaming for an Alpha to take advantage of you any way they please.
Jeno fumbles to stand, stopping dead in his tracks when it hits him. Stronger than his own scent, the undeniable waft of Omega slick punches through his chest, choking on a deep inhale of your body's release practically begging to be claimed.
“Heat?” He says quietly to himself, jaw slowly falling open watching you try to move away. Crawling backward with your palms on the floor into the hallway. With the little bit of strength you still have, you turn to run on your knees through the hall, coughing against the urge to stay put and let the Alpha in your presence strip you down to nothing. 
Your bedroom door clicks shut just in time to catch sight of Jeno rushing out of his, stampeding over to crash against the door slamming shut in his face.
“You’re in heat??” He asks, sounding it utter awe. Licking across his lips to remoisten them, he’s still too shocked to process everything, groaning with his groin shoved flat to the door to stave off his hunger. The idea that you fell into heat because of him doing more than enough to get him off.
“Aw come on,” Jeno presses closer to the outside of your bedroom door. A smirk evident in his voice as his warm cheek drags against the chilled wood to speak near the small crevice between the frame. “All of this arguing about lack of privacy for weeks and here you are, triggered your heat because you were being a pervert? Naughty naughty.”
“Go away!” You clamber to barricade yourself in even though the doors locked, stuffing a pillow over your face to minimize the pained shriek you let out.
Jeno sighs, softly knocking his forehead against the door. “Promise I’ll be nice if you let me in, it must hurt..” 
“Not in heat.” You croak in anguish, dropping your head back to suppress a cramp spiking between your thighs. 
“Sure baby..” Jeno’s lips tighten, wondering how long it’s been since you last went into heat with an Alpha around; your scent’s dizzying, churning his already aroused brain to nothing but a pile of mush. “Bet it’s been so long since anyone touched you, hmm? you know you can’t get through this alone.”
“I said go away Jeno!” 
The mix of your scents tastes like a drug poured onto your tongue with each struggled breath you take, burying your nose into your pillow harder to keep the Alpha’s more powerful one subdued. It’s impossible with him so close, practically seeping through your walls with each taunting word and delighted laugh he lets out.
“Liked what you saw that much, Omega?” He’s brazen now, fully digesting what this means after weeks of pining for you in secret. Jeno can barely contain a smile, momentarily grateful for the door keeping you divided. “How much did you see, baby?”
He sighs through the door, dragging his knuckles up and down, the sound of it looming above where you crouch and listen. “Did you know I was thinking about you? I always do now. Always think about your soft pretty scent, your tight ass bent over on my bed, teasing me until I stop gaming and fuck the life out of you.”
A gasp collects in your pillow, tightening your legs closer together to stop yourself from squealing as another dollop of slick pours out. The shorts you still had on after finishing your morning workout completely wrecked now. “I know you saw it, you saw everything, didn’t you? Is that what did it for you, baby? Watching me jerk off to another Omega? Did you know I had you on my mind?”
Jeno waits, chewing his bottom lip while picturing your stunned face again; silently absorbing the heavy aroma of slick you left between the hallway walls. “Come on baby, did you know I was thinking about you? Pretending my pretty roommate cried and begged me to go harder, fuck you faster and deeper like some needy Omega bitch in heat..”
Breath lodges in your throat upon his admission, caring less whether it be true or false, he knew exactly what to say to turn your insides upside down. 
“Come on, open the door for Alpha.” 
A minute of silence passes, and you think about it. 
Jeno could help you through your heat, this living situation is temporary anyway. It’s too late to find a clinic to suffer it out at, and your heat wasn’t supposed to hit until next month. You had no time left to prepare, and if your memory serves you right— you need new batteries too.
As much as you try to deny an attraction to your roommate after daily complaints, it’s not as if you have been able to ignore how nervous his presence alone makes you.
Jeno annoys you because you like him, and that’s upset you ever since the day you met.
The tips of your fingers brush around your doorknob, pushing onto your knees with a sniffle into your pillowcase. 
“Go away Jeno,” you say finally, shoving back to curl into a ball as your Omega screams to let him in.
“Fine, suit yourself and suffer in there alone all you want.” He chuckles, tapping up and down your door to create a drum that accompanies his sweet vocals. “I’ll be in my room where you found me, waiting for when you’re ready. Come out, come out whenever you want, Omega.”
Footsteps rain heavily through the corridor, beating against your ear. You sigh defeatedly, returning to press up and listen for the familiar sound of his bedroom door shutting. It takes more than a minute, the Alpha lingering down the hall in wait, expecting you to succumb and claw your way out with your hands positioned ready for prayer and beg for his help.
He sighs quietly, but loud enough to your alert senses, shuffling back to his bedroom with the door shutting but not clicking to lock.
You know he means it, it’s an invitation, precisely as he said to recreate what you caught him watching.
The better part of your conscience commends your ability to stay put and control your natural instinct that craves every inch of the Alphas skin under your tongue, but the devil you ignore clawing at your shoulder chants otherwise.
“Fuck me.” You hiss between grinding teeth, pushing your underwear down for a pinch of relief. The first touch of air-conditioned breeze rustling between your hips aches more than usual. In fact, everything aches more than usual, never once had any heat hit you this hard and left you this aroused before.
This had to be Jeno’s fault. Stupid Alpha leaving his enticing scent everywhere. Stupid Alpha pushing your buttons for weeks until you ended up here on your knees contemplating how much more of this you can take.
Delirium takes over your brain before you can even sweep your fingers between your thighs. Slick aggressively pours down the inside of your legs, sticky and wet down to the pits of your knees making everything all the more uncomfortable. 
Heats had been bearable for the most part, mostly able to handle it yourself, even still showing up to work on your last couple of days with how well you managed to control your Omegas desires and stayed on top of using suppressants.
Jeno just had to show up and fuck up everything for you, with his stupid dark shiny eyes, his stupid attractive smile, and his extra stupid ripped stature that ignited a hint of fear in your gut every time he stood near you, every time his solid flesh so much as rubbed against yours.
As if your Omega could predict your next move, the devil on your shoulder cheered, encouraging you to hurry before ‘our Alpha’ grows more agitated with us.
“Useless.” Banging your head against the wall, you smear a slick painted on your hand across your shirt, shuddering as another pained moan slips out of you.
Silently pleading for forgiveness to no one other than yourself, your last shred of self-restraint evaporates, twisting the knob to collapse out onto the hallway floor. Jeno’s room seems further than ever now as your knees burn to carry you across the expanse of space separating the two of you. The journey down the hall pricks through your bones, cracking and hurting until you finally barge into his bedroom.
The Alphas exactly as you’d found him earlier seated at his computer chair, another video playing on the screen, headphones back on. 
“Alpha..”
A smirk creeps onto his face before looking over to watch you miserably trudge through his room, pathetic with drool already dripping from the corners of your lips.
“Jeno..” Your knees burn and bruise against the floor, slowly crawling deeper in without strength to open the door properly. He fully expected for you to lose control of yourself and find your way back to him, on your knees again as you’d left earlier.
Shifting with his feet paddling against the floor, he swivels side to side waiting until you near close enough to clutch onto his calves, burying your digits along his sweats to hoist yourself higher. “Alpha..”
“You think you deserve anything from me? After I offered you my help so nicely?” Jeno tsks, maintaining an icy expression. Eyes narrowed and jaw locked tight to keep up his cold unforgiving composure even as you pull harder on his sweats to lift yourself between his thighs; even while you drag your face against his upper thigh panting like a thirsty pup. 
“I think you owe me..” he says, sucking in a breath between his teeth, leaning his neck to one side. “How can you expect Alpha to willingly help you after treating me like this?” 
Jeno continues on, pouting when you scratch at his chest. The collar of his shirt dragged down by your grip on the material to pull yourself closer to him. 
“Please, please Alpha, n—need.” You whisper, pressing a wet kiss to his navel that sets a chill of heat down to his groin. The combination of your fierce grip on him and the heat radiating from your fingertips has him fighting to keep calm, slowly allowing his eyelashes to flutter shut as the scent of your prominent thick slick crashes like high-tide waves against his skull.
“What do you need?” Jeno says, lowering his gaze to pan over the distress that’s taken over your beautiful features. 
“Alpha please, please don’t make me..”
The dark glints lining his iris flicker with shards of gold and reds from listening to your groveling, but not enough to break his defiance. “Why should I still be nice? Have you been very nice to me, baby?”
With a clear head you’d probably snicker, bite back and mock him in return, but with heat completely engulfing your body you couldn’t find a care to argue. A coughed wail runs from your throat, stradling the small space left on his lap to wrap around the Alphas broad shoulders and soothe your raging heart with his usual bitter scent that’s ripened, sweet as a bowl of freshly cut fruit; staining your tongue with traces of acidity on a hot summer day. 
Gripping your waist, suckinghe sucks in a breath as he admires the amount of space his large hands are able to cover. Squeezing you tight as the idea of bruises and marks created by his hands showing up on your hips and thighs manifests beyond fantasy. “There there, you know Alpha will take care of you.”
Jeno pinches your chin, having to bite back his lower lip at the way your mouth wobbles; glossy gaze staring back at him pleading to be ruined. “Good Omegas know how to ask for what they need.”
“Jeno!” You whine, sniffling before a tear slips feeling more desperate and humiliated as he grasps your hip with one firm hand to stop you from grinding. “Please! I need you!”
The magic words pour from your lips, returning the Alphas hold to wrap around your waist to drag you closer; rolling his hips up simultaneously to press your bare core against his sweats forming a darkened puddle of slick upon his groin. “Smell so good for me baby, that’s all for me, right?” 
There’s something akin to desperation in the way Jeno’s stares at you while saying your name, pressing the pads of his fingers in your cheeks as he waits for you to speak, to reaffirm that you need him, not just any Alpha but him.
Pawing at his chest, you slowly nod, dipping closer to inhale every bit of him. For a small sliver of his taste to meet your lips. The scent you’ve begun to grow accustomed to feels even more overpowering now, aromatic and lucid inducing; hypnotizing your hips to roll faster for any type of friction against your center. 
Jeno forces your lips into a pout, allowing three breaths to pass between you before closing the small distance with his soft pink pout swallowing yours.
He kisses with equal hunger, nestled between your lips to suck and rub. The end of his tongue finding space inside of your mouth as you let out a gasp of surprise. Jeno’s big hands run down your back, kneading your ass over your shirt on the way to grip your thighs. 
The Alpha effortlessly moves to stand, lifting you with a secured hold around your thighs to set you on an empty space on his desk. Warm hands roam over your body, pushing beneath your shirt to clutch onto your waist again, this time with his digits sinking directly into your flesh. 
“You feel so good, so soft.” Jeno says between breaths, mesmerized by how smooth you feel. His hips rut up between yours, further smearing around the mess of slick coating his sweats. 
Bending lower, Jeno lays you back on his desk, licking the spit that's ended on your chin, rubbing his nose against yours before returning to your parted lips to plunge deep inside of your mouth; tongue gliding along yours. 
“Al-alpha..” moans continuously spew between strokes of his tongue, losing comprehension with another piston of his hips. The Alphas growing bulge presses stiff against your center, rubbing impatiently on your clit. “please, need you, n—need you now”
Jeno grunts, chewing your lips with his hands exploring, from squeezing your thighs and ass to tracing your shape up to your chest. He’s everywhere, mauling your mouth as he grinds harder, massaging your breasts with a strong hold, fingers tweaking your hardened buds. If not for his unrelenting will to not immediately fuck into you, you’d be sure he’s in rut.
“Need you too.” Jeno whimpers, winding the fabric of your t-shirt around your waist as a handle to grip and jam against you harder. “Need to taste you, feel every part of you.”
“Please, y-yes, Alpha please.”
Jeno nods rapidly, breaking into a sweat still fully clothed above you, large and powerful with his demanding empty thrusts that spiral up your chest, craving for more, more of the Alpha to consume you, more more more.
“Can you cum like this?” He asks breathlessly, a hint of whine singing from his throat as he bends to lick up your jaw, trailing up your ear to suck on. “Cum for me baby, wanna taste you.”
“Alpha, n-no—” his pace is unforgiving now, pushing your shirt up to stuff into your mouth muffling your moans. Jeno grunts listening to the nasty wetness between you, slick dripping down between his thighs leaving his sweats soaked. The table under you a complete mess of arousal smearing its way up to your lower back.
“Oh fuck!” With gritted teeth he pulls away to watch your chest heave, hips lifting up in desperate need. A stream of slick pulses out, squirting onto his shirt and the space under you, landing with a loud obscene splash. “Fuckfuckfuck.”
He can’t wait any longer, dropping to his knees quickly, his mouth attaches to your entrance before you can finish. Swallowing and sucking the last spurts of slick, the shock of his tongue dipping in shooting your spine rigid; bowing up into an arch with your feet scrambling to settle on the desk. “Alpha!”
Jeno groans from deep within his chest, his tongue working in and out of your convulsing heat instantly unable to get enough of the slick pouring down his throat. “Do you even know how good you taste?” 
The Alpha growls between slurping slick and licking between your folds, his nose covered with a layer of wetness from dragging up and down your exposed center. The tip of it rolling your clit into a mind-numbing circle as he takes a deep breath, slick filling his nostrils leaving him with hardly any space to breathe.
“Fuckfuck.” Jeno feels out of his mind, days of jerking off to the thought of you all leading to this moment. Ravenous with hunger to swallow you whole, he sucks on your labia folds, alternating the velvety flesh with light nips and pointed licks. Fat stripes of his tongue drag from your rim to your clit, lips pursed around the bundle of nerves to make you shriek.
A repeated chant of ‘so fucking good’ between deep intakes of wet breath sounds between your moans, heated palms squeeze your hips pushing onto the backs of your thighs to lift your lower back from the desk. Jeno stays bent over driving in deeper at this new angle, his tongue pushing in and out stretching your walls purposefully. 
Heat licks through your stomach when the Alpha pushes two digits in alongside his tongue, the stretch torturous as he falls into a fast-paced pump. Long thin fingers scissor way inside of you against the strain his tongue works up to, wiggling in deeper until his jaw hinges and locks. The tension in his muscle eliciting a grunt that fills your insides with toe curling vibrations.
Jeno imagines he could die with his face buried between your thighs, wondering how he went this long without your slick lathered on his tongue. His nose rubs back and forth against your clit the more he attempts to push in, slipping another finger into you. 
“Jeno! I’m—fuck!” You keen, wrinkling between your eyebrows as a shout and another wave of pleasure crashes over you. White heat filled with lust blacks out your senses as climax fully hits, having to reach for chunks of the Alphas hair to yank at between wailing for him to stop.
The Alphas ears feel foggy, clouded with fuzzy cotton and the screams of your pleased moans. He works past your orgasm, tongue gliding out to only focus on your clit, striking it in repeated motion with lick after lick; long fingers gaining momentum as he buries a fourth in and jackhammers another orgasm out of you. 
Your next release hits faster, his arm stiffening to push the tips of his digits against a spongy spot deep inside of you, splaying his other hand under your bellybutton with a harsh suck around your bundle of nerves. 
“Jeno!” 
Screams sound around the room, eyes rolling to the back of your skull with the assault from the Alphas merciless fingers and mouth. Slick rushes out viscously bursting past the digits lodged deep inside of you, coming to a still as he enjoys the stream smacking him across the face. 
“Holy fuck.” Jeno sighs, licking the mess off his lips before dragging out and kissing from over your slit to your entrance, hips twitching up with a whine from the oversensitivity.
“So perfect..” the Alpha mumbles quietly, not loud enough for you to hear over your euphoric daze; still lost in heat and addictive gratification.
He’s quick to strip himself, kicking off the sweats you’ve ruined and coming to stand up straight above you, looming large and broad.
“Never seen a prettier Omega.” He flatters, holding onto your knees to keep you spread open. Another embarrassing wad of slick leaks at the visual of the Alphas built frame hovering above you, his chest defined and abdomen etched in solid muscle, inching closer to your core. “With the prettiest pussy too.”
“Alpha, fuck me already, please!” You preen, squirming in his hold. His praise only does more to heighten your impatience and despair, squirming against the desk impatiently.
“Want me that much hmm? You going to cum that hard on my cock for me too?” Jeno clicks his tongue, sucking a breath between his teeth to lessen his Alphas rage to take you right now. The thought of fucking you for the first time anywhere other than his bed not sitting right with him. Leaning over, he kisses you softly, savoring the pilant moans you share between licks across the seam of your lips. Trailing his tongue inside to twist against yours and pull, drawing your neck and waist to arch up and allow his arms belt around you. 
Surprising you with his strength, he squats to haul you off the table, his bed not far off to lay you flat even with his legs shaking after staying hard for this long. Jeno can feel his last semblance of power disappear as he helps you out of your shirt, fully exposed beneath him with your face hidden and ducked against your shoulder as you flush. Suddenly shy with the Alphas dark glossy gaze taking his sweet time to scan your figure and caress your delicate curves.
“So pretty for your Alpha..” Jeno whispers, completely enraptured. Sleek eyes glazed over as they pass across every inch of skin, tickling down your sides to grab onto your hips again. The hiss you let out lets him know it hurts, bruises surely forming in the shapes of his fingers, an image to revel in until he can properly claim you.
“Alpha, fuck me.. please fuck me.” You whine more feverishly now, reaching to scratch and pinch his waist and meld your bodies closer, his thighs forming more space between your hips to settle his length against your core.
“Do you even understand what you’re begging me to do baby?” Jeno questions, lapping his mouth clean as his palm flattening around your throat. “Begging for Alpha to ruin you.”
“Wa—want you, want you to ruin me.” His grip tightens, snaking your throat with a chokehold when you plead for him to make it hurt, make it hurt good enough to remember. “Pl—please..”
“What if I need everything, what if I need every part of you?” He breathes harshly, hips rolling forward to drag his size between your gushing folds. “Will you give me that? Give me everything.”
“Everything,” tears spring free as your hands reach to wrap around his forearm, trembling head to toe with each pass of the Alphas cock from your navel to your clit, the stimulation pushing your mind deeper into an abyss of heat and desire. “I’m yours.”
Jeno’s throat jumps, cursing under his breath as he litters a path of kisses down your jaw, nipping your chin on his way to your chest. Perfectly straight pearly teeth bury into the pert mound of your breast with a growl, shaking his head to sink deeper into the fleshy meat and leave a mark. “So good, so fucking good.”
Loosening his hold on your neck, he traces upward, nestling the end of his nose along the column of your throat in search of your scent gland. His lungs lock dry and tight as he takes a deep long inhale of the sweet fragrance he’s become infatuated with; nipping at your warm skin, teasing you with the threat of marking you to be his. Threat of taking a chance to easily claim you as his mate. Sharp canines dig in enough to break the skin and leave indentations, staying still for seconds to let your scent flow down and fill his lungs.
Thrill races through your spine, having the Alpha this close to your scent gland. Arching for more movement between your bodies, your nails dig into his sculpted sides scratching down leaving viscous red lines in their wake, encouraging him to leave a mark.
Jeno sucks using more strength, raising blood to the surface on your neck in the pattern of a necklace, one for his hand to latch onto and deepen later.  
“Jeno, c—can’t—” ragged breath lodges between your lungs with his palm returning to constrict your throat, fingers digging into the sides congesting your next inhale. He growls roughly, like shards of glass have ruined his vocal chords. 
“You like that baby?” 
Barely able to nod, your body speaks for you as another glob of slick runs down the Alphas length leaving his balls dripping wet onto the bedding. “Get so wet for me, you get wet like this for anyone else?” 
“You, you Alpha.” You cry, desperately horny enough to say anything he wants at this point. Brought down to nothing but a pile of putty in his ruthless rough hands, willing to hand over your world for him to destroy.
He hums pleased, licking at the sweat blanketing his upper lip and using your throat to push his shoulders up, gawking in awe at the area you’ve drenched between your lower halves. Slick coats his thighs, abdomen shining under soft light reflecting off of him, the bed topper beneath you ruined. “You like me that much?”
He kisses at the backs of his teeth, rutting between your folds without control, losing his breath as he watches the tip of his size reach past your twitching navel with each swipe up. “Fuck, you gonna be good for me? Be a good Omega for Alpha and take it all?”
“Yesyesyes! Be so good, anything—” you blubber, coughing with your thighs clenched around his hips to lure him in. Hands scrabble on his wrist and forearm to loosen his hold on your neck, wheezing for air. “So good for you Alpha, a—anything.”
Jeno grabs a hold of his length, gripping snuggly around the base to calm himself, leisurely dragging his tip between your folds. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
The thick aroused scent emitting off of you only grows heavier with his murmured flattery, a fresh dollop of slick bubbling out and drenching Jeno’s heavy sack. Tears cling to your eyelashes, a watery plead to be fucked echoes out, blurring past the Alphas ears when another waft of your scent spins his head into an alternate universe; mindlessly dipping the tip of his cock past your tight entrance.
“W—want you inside,” you say, fluttering your eyes shut nervously. “Want all of you inside Alpha, wanna be full of your pups.”
Jeno’s chest tightens, grinding his teeth as he inches deeper into your heat. The wet warmth makes the room spin, compressing his lungs in a way that brings him closer to what can only be described as death, and he knows he’s fucked. He’ll never be able to get enough of you after this.
“Feel you s—so deep,” you stammer, sliding a palm down to your navel to rest against the skin that’s begun to distend as the Alpha stills, head drooping between his shoulders to lower his uncontrollable moans. “Wanna feel your cum.. drip out of me.”
Jeno can’t stop himself from shouting, cursing under his breath while throwing back his head. Wet walls clamp around his size, the pressure shooting through his balls to fuck you with a renewed feral urgency. 
Shifting back, the Alpha gazes down between your bodies where you connect, jaw hung loose mesmerized by your cunt refusing to release him. Your walls squeezing, milking his length to your content until he finally sees the tip only to ram forward and fall into a brutal pace.
Hunching forward he bounces you deeper against the bed, exactly where he’d always planned to have his way with you. Fuck you until you cry and beg exactly as you are now. The nonsense and pleasured sounds dripping off your tongue playing like a tune to the rapid volume of flesh meeting flesh. Sharp hips barrel against your thighs, meeting fierce enough to leave bruises in their aftermath. 
“What am I gonna do with you?” Jeno whimpers, pushing his mouth against yours, melting into a messy kiss that’s more drool than lips meeting. Teeth clink together, swallowing shared breaths between failed attempts of locking lips. “How are you this perfect for me?”
The Alphas hands cup under your ass, groping to lift your bottom up and meet his furious speed. Tingles explode throughout your limbs from his praises, searching for refuge in his shoulder to hide the undeniable burn racing across your cheeks.
“Don’t hide from me, baby.” Jeno commands, pressing his nose against your cheek. “My pretty Omega.”
Raspy sweet vocals sing everything you need to hear right now, the constant mine mine mine twisting up your gut. The Alphas thick length works fast, thrusting into you at a spine-breaking pace, lifting your waist up to arch.
“Pl—please, please,” you croak, biting down on Jeno’s shoulder as a blood curdling scream tears through your chest. His cock catches on your entrance with each pull out, wrapping your legs tighter to lock your ankles around his lower back.
“What are you begging for?” the Alpha mouths at your jaw, nipping and licking sweat off your cheek. 
“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” 
Jeno can’t believe what a slut his roommate is, already fucked stupid and still demanding more. Moving to slide his arms under your back, he sets a violent pace. The scream you let out scratching your vocal chords up, urging him to fuck you faster. Fuck you until your heat breaks.
“Yesyesyes! Alpha!”
“God,” he gasps, disoriented. Disbelief of how well you take it rocking his brain side to side. Taking it like you belong to him already. “Made for me, aren’t you baby?” 
He’s fucking into you even faster, harder, every inch meticulously dragging inside of you. The room humid and hot with a combined heat building off your bodies, skin beating against yours all sweaty, sticky, covered in slick.
“Fuck baby, how are you still so f-fucking tight.” Jeno preens, his voice cracking the more you clench around. “Feel too good, feel too damn good..”
Planting you with another sloppy kiss, he straightens back to push your thighs against to chest. Weighing more on your air passage as his hips drop faster, knees bracketed around your distraught face adding to how delirious and lost you feel.
“Al—alpha.. br—..” with a lifeless sigh, you crumble. Angled perfectly to watch his length bury in and out of you. The thick size of his girth spreading your cunt open more than you’ve ever seen, breaking you to never need anyone else. No one would ever come close. “Breed me.”
Jeno’s eyes snap open, his hands squeezing roughly along the backs of your legs. He can’t stop now, not with how you gaze up at him like he’s a God. The hazy stare you focus on him, admiring the man above you so full of list, sending him toppling over the edge. 
Tears, drool, and sweat spill past your lips, huffing empty breathless cries. The Alphas cock burying into you to the brim protruding your stomach out again. His massive size rearranging your insides, erasing the last shred of sanity you had with another roll of his hips.
Incoherent noises break from your parched throat, the most painful and satisfying orgasm ripping through your body, strong enough to leave you feeling brainless. Eyes rolled back as your lower half jerks, squirting aggressively enough for Jeno to nearly break into tears as he stays rooted inside of you against the pressure trying to rip past his length and push him out of the way.
“God damn..”
He fucks you through it, dragging your limp body higher up the bed as he races to completion. A gutted growl slices through the thick air around you, his knot expanding as hot white ropes painting your insides. Teeth gritted as he leans down and lays a pathway of kisses up your chest, licking over your scent gland again, more desperate to bite and have you as his mate.
The Alphas knot continues to stretch you open and grown, instinctively lulling another weak orgasm out of you the more your tight muscle pulls around him. Locked together with half-lidded eyes lazily taking in the afterglow painted over your expressions, the heat subdues enough to at least feel half-awake and process reality for the moment.
“Thank you..”
Jeno smiles, adjusting his arms to loop around your waist and position you both more comfortably on your sides until his knot deflates. “Why are you thanking me?”
“Because..” you mumble, tucking in your chin to hide as warmth rushes to your cheeks. “..I wanna be good for you..”
His cock pulsates watching your expression shift to a demure innocent one, stifling a groan by biting on his lip. He nudges your forehead with his nose, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.
“You are the best for me.”
Jeno’s affirmations reach deep with your heat feeding off the Alphas energy, the ache between your thighs stinging again, punching through your gut. Tightening around his length as he slims down to a normal size.
“Alpha..”
“My baby needs more already?” He smiles softly, pecking away the pout you give him as he maneuvers to slowly pull out of you.
“Come on, present yourself, show me how much you want it. Show me how good you can be for your Alpha.” Jeno says with a hint of cockiness laced through his tone. Slapping your hip enough to sting and have you lazily turning over, hissing as your knees drag on the wet bedding; lowering your chest to shove your ass out with a defined arch in your spine. 
He can’t believe how wrecked your cunt looks already, swollen and coated in his seed. His fingers smear the mess of your mixture up to push more inside of your hole, drawing sad little whines out. “Perfect Omega for me. Mine.”
Sniffling, you nod, swaying your hips for more even if you feel ready to pass out. “Yours.”
The Alpha sits up on his knees, slapping the underside of his length against your rim and slit creating filthy sounds of wetness around you. His cock coats in the remnants of his release and slick that won’t stop flowing out of you. “Fill you up with my pups, like my good Omega deserves.” 
Sheathing back in, he lets out a guttural groan, eyes rolling back as blunt nails dig into your sides. His cock throbs against your swelled walls, wasting no time to fuck and breed you full of cum again and again. The reminder that you belong to him now never failing to sing from his lips release after release with his hands tangled in yours. 
“Mine, meant to be mine.”
The Alphas aroma shifts the air around you before he can settle back into bed, humming as he plops back onto the space next to you.
“You’re not going to believe this but..” Jeno laughs bitterly, nuzzled against your side with his phone in hand. “Mr. Huang emailed about an eviction on the Alpha floor..”
“Hmm? Eviction?” You question lazily. Still drowsy with your nose buried in Jeno’s pillow to quell your heat for a moment.
“Yeah.. looks like I can move out by next week..” he trails off mournfully, clearing his throat as he locks his phone.
“Move out?? What?” those words are enough to have you shooting up to sit, hissing from the way your entire body stings. “Wht?!”
“Uhm, because you want me to move out?” Sitting up on his elbows, he cocks an eyebrow, the one he recently put a slit in that you absolutely hate(love). “Weren’t you just ranting to your friend about how insufferable and disrespectful I am?”
“See, eavesdropping is disrespectful,” rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his tight stomach, returning to cuddle into the Alphas pillow. An instant blanket of calm wraps around your limbs with one inhale as his trademark scent consumes your senses. “Do you want to move?”
“Not really..” Jeno admits, laying back down to meet you at eve-level. “I doubt a new roommate would buy the same great snacks and ramen you always manage to find.”
“Do you see how you’re insufferable?” You tut, rolling your eyes playfully. 
“As long as you’re willing to live with me.. I’d like to stay.” He smiles genuinely, draping an arm around your waist to press closer. “..and maybe see where this goes..”
“This?”
“Us.”
“..when’s your next rut?” 
Jeno cracks into a wide smile at that, tickling up your back to make you curl into yourself and expose your throat for him to kiss and lick.
He may or may not have made all of that up, who knows really. It’s not as if he doesn’t proudly carry the title of being your insufferable Alpha roommate without good reason.
2K notes · View notes
peachypinkygloss · 9 months
Text
call me soon — jjk
Tumblr media
Jungkook finds himself obsessing over you a bit too much than he'd like to admit, but you two get a chance to see more of each other during a hot summer night where you both are lonely, desperate and horny.
☾ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
☾ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut
☾ word count: 5.9k
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of driving under the influence of alcohol (jk had one beer okay 🙄 no car crash lol), hello tae and oh — jimin?, hurt and comfort 🧐, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, clit stimulation, tits play, praising, unprotected sex & oral sex, blowjob, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms, brief overstimulation.
a.n.: i tried something and i think i like it 😼 put y'all seatbelts on because this is the best smut i've ever written 🫡 *no taglist!!
Jungkook knits his eyebrows together, deeply lost in his thoughts. At this point, the music blasting through the house doesn't make his body shake anymore, it doesn't make his heart beat faster nor does it make adrenaline rush through his veins.
He feels the vibrations under his feet, though. It's intense, but not enough to distract him. The pad of his index finger mindlessly circles the neck of the beer bottle he's holding, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his baggy jeans.
His friend's elbow sometimes nudges him in the ribs because of how animated he is when talking, but he doesn't make Jungkook turn his head nonetheless. He hears him laugh and curse while he looks away, gaze lost in the crowd of people, eyes shifting between all the faces without a thought about them.
He's too busy thinking about yesterday, that cursed night where he just wanted to fill up his gas tank and unluckily fell upon you at the gas station.
He thinks he never looked at his phone so many times in a day before, never thought a stupid call would turn him crazy, obsessively scrolling through his contact list to find your name.
Every time the day ended, he worried that maybe you had deleted his number, but your name has always been there. A part of him hoped you would have deleted him from your phone. It would have explained why you never called and then perhaps he would have felt less crazy.
But no. You just didn't bother pressing on his name and sticking your cellphone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up as you listened to his ringtone.
And that's quite a bit worse than being erased from your contact list because that means you just didn't think about him. Not once were your thoughts about Jungkook.
He could be wrong, but he prefers to torture himself.
Anyway, it's not like you were much bothered by the fact that you totally ghosted him back at the convenience store. 'I forgot', how horrible that sounds?
But then, all he wanted to do at this moment was to forgive you, tell you that it doesn't matter, that he doesn't really care, that it's no biggie. He can't blame you and that's so fucking stupid because all he did was eat you out.
Yet he finds himself thinking about you more than he'd like to. He even jerked himself off to you, playing back in his head the moment you were whimpering his name and pulling on his hair, clenching your thighs around him. He's not super proud of that — kind of cringes him a little bit when he thinks about it — but he got really hard imagining your pussy leaking down his knuckles.
You were a good hook-up and yes, he thought it could happen again. He hoped you two would do it a second time, maybe a third — how many you'd like to.
He likes sex and his obsession for you started because of that, but he would lie if he said hanging out with you like friends doesn't sound good to him. It sounds so fucking... nice.
In the end, he knows you two as friends wouldn't work. He works for your dad to pay his scholarship that is incredibly expensive even for a public university.
You, you don't need that. You don't need to work, don't have to lift a finger. You're treated like a princess — have the life of a princess — and you might even think of yourself as a princess too. Fuck him for liking it. Fuck him for fantasizing about possibly being your knight.
"This party fucking sucks."
Jungkook's eyes finally focus on something else than the void, laying on his best friend Taehyung. He doesn't know where he comes from, he only remembers him leaving the kitchen area when everyone was in the depth of a conversation.
"Why's that?" He asks instead of agreeing, knowing he can't really complain when he hasn't been in the mood to party at all.
Taehyung leans his back against the counter beside Jungkook, taking a sip of his soon empty beer bottle. "It just fucking sucks," he shrugs, a scowl on his face as if it's a justifiable reason. It might be because Taehyung's not so difficult to entertain.
It might be because of something else, Jungkook believes, though he doesn't have the heart to ask. He'll do it another time when he won't smell like rejection and when his head won't be filled with a woman's giggles who's out of his league.
So he only hums in agreement, silence installing between him and Taehyung.
A couple of minutes pass, Taehyung has opened another bottle and Jungkook is still quiet. Usually, he doesn't mind slipping in conversations, sharing his own perspective of things. He rarely says no to games, bringing his competitive ass over and crushing everyone's chances of winning.
Today isn't usual, that's why it fucking sucks.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Jungkook says to Taehyung and this one nods.
"I'll probably head home soon anyway."
"Be sure to take an Uber."
"Of course, you know me," he chuckles, waving Jungkook goodbye.
His friend does the same, a slight smile painted on his face as he walks to the front door, opening it and stepping out of the house.
His eyes get used to the darkness as he closes the door behind him. He notices someone sitting on the stairs, typing quickly on the keyboard of their cellphone. He approaches the figure, hearing them sniffing as if they've been crying.
They suddenly drop their phone, muttering a 'fuck' as the device lays on the ground. Jungkook decides to go reach for it so he walks down the stairs and bends to catch it, turning around to hand it to the owner.
"Here." He looks at the person's face and his heart jumps in his chest when he recognizes you. He doesn't know where to look for a second, his eyes shifting down to the screen of your phone.
He catches a glimpse of a conversation with a certain 'Jimin' and immediately looks away, feeling guilty for not minding his business.
You thank him in a tired voice, taking back your iPhone. He stands there uselessly as you seemingly give up on your previous message, turning off your phone's screen with a defeated sigh.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, taking a seat beside you on the stairs.
As you wipe your tears away with the tips of your fingers, he wonders who could have hurt a princess like you. Princesses shouldn't cry. They should be covered in diamonds, not have pearls falling down from their eyes.
He wouldn't have let something like this happen as your knight. He knows for a fact that he would have protected you, and he thinks that whomever is pretending to be your knight right now is doing a really bad job.
"Yeah, I just... shouldn't be here," you respond with a shaky voice, eyes strained down on your feet.
"Where else should you be?"
You turn your head toward him, looking at him like a poor hurt puppy. He doesn't want to compare you to something so defenceless as a puppy, but that's what your eyes tell him. It's not like you're weak, it's more like you've given up on being strong.
"I don't know," you scoff, shaking your head. "Somewhere I belong."
Jungkook thinks he understands what you mean by that. He thinks, but he doesn't know if he really does. It's complicated to relate to someone who's so different from you.
But he wants to try. Relating to someone is not mandatory to be friends, anyway. Nor is it to be in love.
He hums, leaning his forearms on his knees and looking in front of him, watching the night butterflies flying under the dim lights of the street lamps. "Wanna get home?" He proposes, thinking that's maybe where you want to be right now. "I can give you a ride."
Your reddened eyes look up at him and he looks back at you. "No, not home..." You mutter, shaking your head from side to side. "Tomorrow will come too fast," you sigh and break eye-contact, tapping on the screen of your phone to check what hour it is. One a.m..
Is it a coincidence that every time you two are alone the clock indicates one? Should he believe in coincidences or only in the ones that concern you?
"We're already tomorrow," you groan.
Jungkook smiles — he can't help it. "You can't stop the time, baby" he laughs lightly, still staring at you, at your side profile. A blessing to the eyes, a downfall to his heart. "It won't wait for your call to finally start."
You scoff again, this time because you know what he's referring to. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just bad at relationships... or whatever this is," you apologize, certainly coming out a bit blunter than intended. Blame it on the alcohol in your system.
"It's already forgotten." It isn't, but it may be forgiven. He'll surely have this one on his heart for quite a while, though it won't make him stay away from you. It possibly can't.
You send him a sad smile, having pity for him — or maybe for you — he doesn't know.
"Wanna come to mine, then?" He offers, sporting an innocent smile on his face even though he has no intentions of sharing a cup of tea with you there. Unless that's what you want.
"Where do you live?" You ask, a bit tempted by the proposition. And anyway, you need a place to sleep.
"Downtown," Jungkook replies. "We'll be there in five minutes if we go now," he smirks, trying his hardest to convince you.
It never takes too much to convince you.
"'Kay, let's go," you smile back, biting down on your lip.
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
When you entered his apartment, you didn't really pay attention to the decoration, you were rather more bothered by his lips on yours. The moment you stepped foot into his place, his lips were already searching for yours and you didn't refuse him.
So now he's hurriedly leading you to his bedroom, messily kissing you and roaming his hands over the curves of your body. His fingers sometimes get caught under the hem of your dress, making the flimsy material roll up over your plushy thighs.
There's no time to think, no time to ask questions. There's only a need to discover and devour your skin, only a huge desire to finally touch what he hopes will be his one day.
"Oh, be careful," he mumbles against your lips, stopping you from entering his room, his arms wrapped around your waist. "There's a step."
He swiftly lifts you up, his hands placed on the back of your thighs. He can't help but knead them, sinking his fingers into the meaty flesh.
He walks in, making you avoid all the annoying steps to his bed, the covers carelessly thrown everywhere from this morning when he got up. You continue to kiss him, your nails gracing the side of his face as you cradle him in your hands.
Soon enough he lets your back hit the soft surface of his mattress, a soft gasp escaping your lips while he crawls to you, his lips never far away from your hungry ones. He nudges your nose, attempting to connect your mouths together. He does it again and you let him have you, exchanging your saliva like it’s a sweet nectar, him a bee and you a sunflower.
Your hands on his cheeks lower to his neck where you pull on his nair, nails scratching his skin. He groans into the kiss, palming your ass very roughly, fingers sneaking under the hem of your dress.
He has the slight impression that not only your tongues are tangled, but also your souls. Bodies colliding, clashing against each other at the pace of your heartbeat. 
His knees dip into the bed on each side of your body, his arms supporting his weight beside your head. He bucks his hips against yours as you quietly moan into his mouth, feeling his growing bulge pressing down on you.
Blood rushes to his cock so fast, it's like his own brain is begging for him to just fuck you. No protection, fucking raw. Make it messy, make it unforgettable, make it so every time you're with a guy other than Jungkook you regret him.
But he takes his time. That's how he learned it; time is what a woman needs, not a prick who wants his dick wet and to get it from behind. As if doggy is a position that can make her cum.
"Fuck, I'm so..." Jungkook breathes out, his forehead laying against yours. His eyelids flutter shut as he swallows to ease his dried throat, opening his eyes again when he begins to speak. "I'm so fucking hard."
"I know," you whisper, glancing down where he grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy. "I feel it."
He groans at that and moves his hips against yours with more insistence, the material of his jeans rubbing against the soft cotton of your panties. You moan at how good it feels to have his hard cock pressing down on your clit, your hands coming down to push on his butt.
"Shit, baby," he hisses, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. He frowns cutely and looks down too, deciding to raise one of your legs up, making more room for himself. "Do you like that?" He asks, continuing to hump you as if you were both deprived horny teenagers — and he won't lie, he may still act like one sometimes.
He notices a wet patch on your panties just over your core, the area has darkened where your pussy gushes arousal out. "Oh, god- yes, Kook," you moan out, the new position creating more friction.
He almost whines at the nickname, his dick literally twitching happily in his boxers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the pace of his heart accelerating, his breath becoming irregular.
He holds your thigh up and he loves how plushy it is, how your skin looks so tender. He'd bite into it, just chew onto it to have a little taste of you.
"You smell so sweet," he states, his hot breath hitting your skin, making goosebumps run all over your skin. He kisses your neck, soft and warm, leaving a wet trail behind.
He rolls his hips against you, his erection now aching, wanting to be inside of you, but he can't seem to think about anything else than your quiet moans gracing his ears and your odour invading his nostrils.
"Jungkook," you whine, scrunching his t-shirt between your fingers, pulling on it desperately as he keeps smooching the skin of your neck.
He understands your silent request and he swiftly gets rid of his t-shirt, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom's floor. Your hands immediately travel his abs and you feel his muscles flexing under your palms.
You then pass your arms around his shoulders, bringing his lips to yours. He moans into the kiss as he keeps rubbing his hard cock against your pussy, but your little pleas make it difficult for him to focus.
He sneaks a hand between your two bodies and you grip on his hair when he reaches your puffy clit, pulsating so hard for him. "Do you want me to touch you there?" He asks in a raspy voice, his big fingers teasing your sensitive bud, his touch familiar at this point. "Hm, princess? Want me to make you feel good?"
He always finds a way to tease you even when his jeans are really tight, his cock so swollen from your dry humping session from seconds ago.
"Yes, please," you breathe out shakily, a moan escaping your mouth when he starts to draw slow, sensual circles on your clit. "Fuck, Kook." You have your mouth agape, letting out sweet moans as his digit presses down on your bud, making the knot in your stomach tighten.
He lowers his fingers to your core, feeling how soaked your panties are. "All wet for me, baby?" He purrs and you nod your head, breathless. "Good girl," he praises, a little smirk crowning his pink lips.
You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, closing your eyes as you enjoy the pleasure he's giving you. "Faster, please, Jungkook," you beg, his finger stroking your clit sending so many tingles through your body.
So he fastens the pace of his digit, rubbing quick circles on your bud of nerves and he absolutely loves the sight of you bucking your hips against his hand, growing impatient. Your nails sink into his skin, leaving little crescent forms all over his neck. He grits his teeth at the pain, but he'll suffer through it as long as it means you're feeling pleasure.
"Yes, yes," you moan, so close to your high, your mind getting fuzzy. He doesn't stop stimulating your clit, the pad of his finger skillfully circling it over your damp underwear. "I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly say, the muscles of your thighs tensing as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you grab Jungkook's wrist, but he keeps moving his finger to drive you off your high. You tense down, hearing your heart beating in your rib cage, chest heaving rapidly.
You flutter your eyes open and they meet Jungkook's gaze. You look into each other's eyes as you slowly calm down. His hand shifts to hold your waist and you bring him in for another kiss.
You don't wait longer before sliding your panties down your legs, raising your hips up from the mattress and letting the material fall on the ground. He breaks your kiss to see your pussy totally nude, glistening in your juices. He swears it's the sexiest he's ever seen before, so cute and always so fucking wet.
He has the urge to lower down and have a taste. He could never forget your flavour, but he'd pretend to so you let him eat you out for a second time.
Exactly when he's about to devour you, you push on his chest and switch positions with him. He lets you take the top, watching you remove your dress and reveal the most intimate parts of your body to him, naked.
"You're beautiful," he compliments, the most honest he's ever been. His eyes roam over your body, scanning your breasts and your perky nipples pointing at him.
You're a pretty woman, but he wonders if his heart beating faster is really the result of your beauty or perhaps the feelings he might have for you.
"So are you," you smile, giggling when Jungkook's still staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
He's brought back to reality when you place yourself on your stomach between his legs. "What... What are you doing?" He swallows, his big brown eyes settled on you.
"Returning the favour," you respond, passing your finger on his stomach just over the band of his Calvin Klein's that peeks out of his pants. "Would you like that, Kook?"
"Yeah," he mutters under his breath, watching closely the movements of your hands, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You undress him from his pair of jeans and socks, coming back up to his crotch after.
He parts his legs wider for you and you lay a hand over his bulge, feeling how hard he is just for you. "You're so big, Jungkook..." You say in astonishment, visibly really pleased with his girth.
You palm him over his boxers, closing your hand around him, imagining how it'd be without his underwear on.
"Hm-mh." Jungkook passes his fingers through your hair, making you look up at him. "Think you can handle it, baby?"
You squeeze your grip on him, which results in him hissing. He's really sensitive, especially when he's been sporting a boner for quite a while now.
Though nothing will compare to the time you left him just after he made you cum on his tongue. He sucked it up, but fuck, nobody told him before how complicated it was to drive with an erection. It's really distracting. Luckily, his work was done, so he could go straight home, but still.
He had to jack off in the shower, thinking about you and how your pussy would close around him so tightly.
"I'll try," you smile.
You pull down his boxers, leaving them just below his ass, and his cock springs up, the head slapping down on his stomach. He lets out a sigh of relief, finally free from his briefs.
You wrap your fingers around him, looking so small compared to his penis, and bring him up to your lips. His tip is glistening in his pre-cum and it twitches in your hand, just so happy to see you.
Jungkook hasn't shaved, he didn't expect any of this to happen after all. He hopes you don't mind, but you don't seem to, quite the contrary even.
You start to gently and slowly pump him, passing the pad of your thumb over the little slit, spreading his arousal over his length. You leave a kiss on the head and he wonders if you're not getting revenge for all the times he teased you.
You tilt your head to the side and kiss his length all the way up to finally open your mouth and insert the tip in. Jungkook curses under his breath, taking a handful of your hair in his fist, making your scalp itch.
You keep eye-contact with him as you lower down, gradually taking all of him in the warmth of your mouth. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good around me," he moans, looking at you with lustful eyes. He can't take his eyes off of you, he's literally hypnotized by the way your lips slide so smoothly over his hard cock.
You hum, the sound a bit muffled by his dick in your mouth. Tears start to form in your eyes, throat burning as you get used to his size and the stretch of your mouth.
When you've reached his base, nose touching his pelvis, you gag around him, but manage to make the feeling go away. Jungkook believes he's in heaven right now, having his cock nestled deep in your mouth, some strands of hair falling down in front of your eyes.
You blink several times, trying to see clearer, but the water makes your vision fuzzy. "It's okay, princess," he sighs pleasantly, seeing that you struggle, your throat starting to burn badly. You gag another time and he has to concentrate if he doesn't want to cum right now. "Shit... Don't- don't force yourself," he hisses, pulling your head up.
His cock falls back down on his tummy, hearing a wet slap since he's entirely covered in your saliva. You catch your breath and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, immediately taking him back in your hand.
You stroke him, running your palm up and down his girthy length. You swallow to ease your throat and glance up at him with teary eyes. He pouts, cupping your cheeks and swiping his thumbs under your eyes to get the little pearls away.
"You don't have to take everything... I'm already happy to have you with me," he admits and he hopes his words don't scare you away. You don't know each other for that long, but sometimes he just has to be honest about his feelings.
You smile, nodding your head in response. He moans when you take him back into your mouth, flattening your tongue underneath him. He knits his eyebrows together as you bob your head over him, a hand wrapped around his base.
His short nails dig into your scalp, making you wince, but it doesn't make you stop. Jungkook lets out heavy breaths and moans, his hand gripping your hair and guiding you over his wet cock.
His other hand, his tattooed one, scrunches the bedsheets in his fist, the pleasure too good it becomes overwhelming. His eyes are strained down on you and every time your gazes meet, his heart skips a beat.
It feels too good to be true, yet here you are, pleasuring him like nobody else's ever did. You both like to give and he hopes it won't make sex difficult between you two. Well, if it ever happens again, which he really wishes it will.
"Yeah, just like that," he approves when you hollow your cheeks, continuing to bounce your head over his stiff erection. "Such a good girl," he adds on and loosens his grip on your hair, delicately patting you instead.
You almost purr under all the sweet praises he tells you, loving how he makes you feel confident and proud of yourself. Your free hand is laying on his thighs, sensing his muscles tensing and calming down each time he controls himself to last longer.
But even though he tries his best to not shoot his cum into you right now, your mouth does wonders and his orgasm is approaching really fast.
"I'm not gonna last long, baby," he warns you in a breathy voice. "Shit," he curses, sucking air through his teeth and feeling his balls tightening. Your tongue is so warm and wet, he can't resist you any longer.
You pull out and stroke his length, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. It breaks as you lick them, fucking Jungkook with your fist. He groans, gritting his teeth, and his grip on the covers tightens, signs that his high is really close now.
He curls his toes, the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach growing. "Holy fuck," he spits out profanities and his cock twitches, hot cum spilling out from his red, swollen tip.
You moan with him, turned on by the sight of him releasing himself on your hand. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, all of his muscles flexing as you milk him dry.
"Oh, god, Kook," you coo, lazily stroking his cock and caressing his thigh to make him relax. "There's so much," you comment, literally amazed.
Jungkook opens his eyes and looks down at his crotch, seeing your hand still wrapped around him completely covered in his cum. He bites down on his lip at the view, even more aroused when you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the remains.
"Shit, you fucking minx," he says, but there's no intention to insult you, he's just so down bad for you.
It makes you giggle, encouraging you to do something even nastier. You sit on your knees and spread his cum on your tits, circling your nipples with your fingers.
Jungkook smiles, his affection for you growing, and takes a hold of your jaw, pulling you in for a long, sloppy kiss. You moan into his mouth, his cock brushing against your pussy, still hard and ready to wreck you.
"You have no idea what I want to do to you," he groans, looking into your eyes like they are the whole galaxy, endless so he can lose himself in them.
"Do what you need to do to me," you allow, offering yourself to him and more if he desires to.
When those words leave your mouth, he picks you up and gets up from his bed, your legs locked behind his back. You gasp when he pins you against the nearest wall, placing your arms around his large shoulders, holding onto him tightly.
"You sure? Because we're only done when I say so," he breathes onto your face, his forehead against yours, bangs slightly damp from his sweat.
"One-hundred percent sure," you grin, but lose your smile as soon as he pushes his cock into your pussy, ripping a loud moan out of you.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back to give him some of the pain he's inflicting to you by penetrating you with his big cock. He holds you up against him, his hands on your ass, touching you so sensually and lovingly, appreciating every part of your body.
He sinks his dick into your pussy, sliding in so easily without any restraint, cunt absolutely soaking wet. "God, pussy's so fucking tight," he rasps out, finally bottoming out into you. His balls touch your ass, his pelvis flushed against yours, meaning he's completely in.
You whine, feeling absolutely full, pussy clenching helplessly around him. Jungkook doesn't wait — he can't anymore — and starts pounding into you, his balls slapping against your skin. The room smells like sex, it's strong and quite obvious, but he easily ignores it, he practically can't even smell it.
He slides his cock in and out of your pussy, making you moan sweetly, a beautiful melody to his ears. He doesn't hold himself back and fucks you hard against the wall, but you're nowhere near against it, you're loving it.
Your boobs jiggle on your chest because of Jungkook's harsh thrusts, both of your skins glistening under the light of his bedroom, covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I'm so full, Kook," you moan softly and he can't look away from you, finding you so pretty and sexy.
"Yeah? Full of my big cock, baby?" He asks, darting out his tongue to wet his dried lips, passing over his piercings.
"Yes," you cry, breaking eye-contact as you close your eyes, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind you.
His hips are powerful, never missing a beat and brushing over your sweet spot repeatedly. Your pussy has adjusted to the size of his girth, some of your wetness dripping down to your butt and coating his balls that slap against you.
He pushes some of his cum into you as well, the rest you haven't licked off your fingers or spread on your tits. He still can't believe you did that, but god, did he find it hot. He never thought you playing with his cum would turn him on so much. He sure will think about this moment when he's going to be alone with himself.
His eyes shift down to your bouncing breasts and he has to put one in his mouth, even if it means tasting a bit of himself too.
He catches one nipple with lips, wrapping them around your hardened bud. You moan his name and pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing his head down toward your chest.
It sends more tingles to your belly, your walls closing around him tightly. He lets out a grunt, knowing his orgasm will come close if you continue clenching around him as if you want to suck him up.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim when he turns you both around, walking back to his bed. He lays your back down on the mattress, still in you, and continues his assault, snapping his hips against yours.
He pushes up your thighs over your stomach, getting a better view and access to your pussy. "Take my cock, baby. Be a good girl for me," he says, completely obsessed with you and your cunt. If you weren't made for you, he doesn't know how he'll trust life again.
Putting you on his way just to get rid of you... No, if you're not his, you're nobody else's and if he's not yours, then he doesn't know what life is fucking worth.
"Yes, yes, Jungkook," you confirm in a moan, or maybe your brain is too mushy to find something else to answer.
You place two fingers on each side of your hole where Jungkook keeps pounding in, watching his cock entering and exiting your sloppy cunt. You pull on your pussy lips, feeling the knot at the pitch of your stomach tightening again, a more intense orgasm waiting for you.
You bring a finger to your clit and begin to draw fast circles on it, impatient to feel the burning and euphoric sensation of your upcoming orgasm. Jungkook moans at the sight, making him more desperate to reach his high as well.
"Shit, close, princess?" He questions and you nod repeatedly, humming in agreement. "Me too..." He states, breathless and chest heaving rapidly.
He's tired, but somehow he still has the energy to fuck you. Honestly, fucking you might be the only thing he'll never get tired of, that's for sure. It's so addicting, so good, he simply can't get enough.
"Please, please, Kook. Faster," you beg, even though he's already going at a quick pace that will probably leave the skin of your thighs sore and bruised.
You stroke your clit from side to side and he pounds you so hard it makes you dizzy and kind of drunk off the hormones you're both releasing.
He hits your magic spot multiple times, eliciting loud moans of pleasure out of you, your eyes rolling back. "Yes, like that," you cry, the last thing you say before your thighs start shaking.
Your back lifts up from the mattress when your orgasm hits you, passing through you like a tsunami, leaving you out of breath. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook and he's so close, too.
He drives his cock into you, making you whine in overstimulation, and he feels the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. "Oh, fuck, baby," he moans and slips out of you rapidly, jerking himself off just over your quivering pussy. "Gonna cum."
With a last thrust of his hand, he cums on your cunt, making a dirty mess on you. You moan when ropes of white cum land on your pussy, dribbling down to your hole and ass.
Finally, little beads spurt out of his cock, falling on your sex. You collect some on your fingers, pushing them in you and Jungkook watches with lazy eyes, slowly pumping his cock to drive off his high.
He picks you up and places you both side by side on the bed, recovering from the heated session of sex you just experienced. He lies on his back while you're cuddled up to his side, one hand on his chest.
He turns his head in your direction and you're already smiling at him, drawing little forms on his stomach, following the lines of his abs. "Was good," you whisper.
"Yeah," Jungkook agrees, frowning slightly, wondering if maybe, potentially you share the same feelings as him.
The next morning, you dress yourself back up, having taken a fresh shower while Jungkook was still sleeping. He watches you putting back on your dress, his arms crossed behind his head.
When you're done, you spin around and face him. "What about..." You begin, a playful smile gracing your lips. "You call me soon?"
He looks at you, taking a moment to answer, just admiring the happiness you radiate. He compares your mood of when he's found you sitting on the stairs at the party to the one of this morning and he tells himself that you're feeling better because of him.
If you can both make each other happy, he doesn't see why you two can't work — as friends or more, it doesn't matter as long as he's the reason why you have a smile on your face.
"Sure."
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
.
.
.
part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼
3K notes · View notes
lemonlover1110 · 5 months
Text
𝐅𝐎𝐂𝐔𝐒
Suguru Getou
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader
Summary: Suguru needs your help to help him focus on studying again.
Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Nipple Play, Vaginal Fingering, Praising, Vaginal Sex, Creampie
10k Event Masterlist
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
Tumblr media
Suguru loves to go to you for help, even if it’s a subject he understands better than anyone. You talk so sweetly to him, explaining the topic that’s at hand very patiently. He’s lucky he asks about subjects that he already knows because otherwise, he wouldn’t know a damn thing. He keeps staring at you, focusing on your face and on your body as you speak, eyes occasionally shifting to the bed that’s in the room.
“Focus, Suguru.” You call him out, not wanting your friend to fail his exam. You notice that he isn’t listening, staring at the bit of cleavage that your top allows. He isn’t listening, forcing your hand to go under his chin, moving his head to look at your face. “Focus. You’re not learning.”
“I don’t think I will focus.” He confesses, and you purse your lips together. He licks his lips, relaxing on the chair. “I need your help.”
“And what do you want me to do, Suguru?” You ask, letting go of him. He stands up from the chair, a sly smirk on his face. You immediately know what he’s thinking of, and you roll your eyes. You grab his hand, guiding him to the bed.
“It seems like you already know what to do.” He answers. It’s not the first time that Suguru comes to you, pleading for help for his class– The first time around, he actually needed help, and you ended up making out on your bed. Ever since, he comes around to ask for your help, and he doesn’t end up learning anything, instead, he ends up between your legs or on your bed. Well… Maybe he does learn something new, but not academically.
“You’re going to fail.” You tell him, but it goes in one ear and out the other. He doesn’t care if he fails, his mind is elsewhere. His hands go to your waist, his lips going to yours. His tongue enters your mouth, his fingers going under your shirt and touching your skin. You give in to the kiss, your hands going behind his head and pulling him in. 
His hands go to the hem of your shirt, beginning to lift it up. You help him take it off and he unhooks your bra, tossing it elsewhere. He kisses your lips and kisses down your neck. He reaches your breasts, his tongue circling around your nipple before his mouth wraps around it. His fingers begin to play with your other nipple, while his free hand goes to unbutton your pants. 
“Suguru…” Your voice is barely audible as you say his name, but he knows that by the end of the night that’ll change. He detaches himself from your tit, putting you down on the bed. He takes off your pants, leaving you with your cute little pink panties.
He admires the scene for a moment, and he wishes he could take a picture so he could look back at it whenever he’s feeling… excited. He bends down to kiss you, sucking your bottom lip while he begins to tease you through your panties.
He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers running through your folds before they begin to play with your clit. You moan against his lips as his fingers make you feel so good. He gets his fingers wet enough before pushing two inside your cunt. He’s learned how to make you weak with his touch as he slowly gets to know every inch of your body. He curves his fingers so they brush against your sweet spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. 
Suguru pulls his fingers out, pulling away from your lips. You sit up to better watch him get undressed, and when he’s completely bare, he pushes you down on the bed again. He grabs your legs, and they wrap around his waist while the tip of his cock runs through your folds.
He slowly pushes himself in, shutting his eyes as he feels your warm cunt wrap around him. You softly moan as he fills you up. His fingers really are nothing compared to this. Suguru gives you a moment to adjust to his size, his hands going to your waist. 
“Fuck… Your pussy is so perfect.” He says under his breath, slowly beginning to move. You act annoyed when he can’t focus, but you love it. This is much better than trying to explain any subject to Suguru– A subject he so clearly knows. Suguru’s cock hits all the right spots, bringing you immense pleasure. “You’re so perfect.”
“Suguru…” One hand goes down to play with your clit, your back arches. His nails dig into your skin, as he slowly picks up speed. He leans down, his lips entrapping yours, his tongue moving swiftly into your mouth to press against your own.
You begin to squeeze around him, your climax approaching after being worked up by Suguru. He moans into your mouth, driving you wild. He bites down on your lip before pulling away, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
His cock continues hitting all the right spots as he picks up the pace, and your high approaches rapidly. You see white, loudly moaning his name as your orgasm overtakes you. His nails dig deeper into your skin, surely to leave deep marks after he’s finished.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, thrusts slowly becoming sloppy, and his breathing unregulated. You work him up so much that he’s almost disappointed at how fast he finishes with you. 
He moans your name before releasing his cum inside of you, completely filling you up with his seed. He gives a couple more gentler thrusts before pulling out of you. He lays down beside you, and you take a moment to breathe. Until you speak up,
“Now, can you focus?”
3K notes · View notes