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bbyhellfire · 29 days

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curiosity gets the best of eddie when he finds your hitachi (18+ only)

perv!eddie munson x fem!reader, eddie has a bilbo baggins 'why shouldn't i?' moment, male masturbation, prostate stimulation, imaginary bj and p in v, unrequited love, he's gross and pathetic and lovesick (don't use your friend's sex toys w/o their permission), no beta this is not that serious

Eddie could qualify for the Olympics with the amount of hoops he’s jumping through.

He gets it. Laying naked in your friend’s bed as you debate whether or not to use their sex toy is not a good look. But it’s not like that, okay?

Listen.

First of all, he did not break in. He’s staying at your apartment to watch your cat while you’re out of town. Him lounging in your bed isn’t weird, it's expected.

He wasn’t snooping, either. He was searching. After spending the day hunched over a Ford Taurus, his aching back was demanding he find that bottle of ibuprofen you kept on your nightstand. And when it wasn't in its usual spot, the only logical next step was for Eddie to check your nightstand's drawer. And he did find the ibuprofen, thank you very much. He just also found something else.

It was hard not to notice. Not just because Hitachi wands are bulky, but because it was sitting right there in the open. No clothes or knick-knacks to hide it, just...there. And he knows what it is. He's seen enough porn to know when he's face to face with a Hitachi.

See? He's not some creep who can't control his crush. He wasn't looking for your sex toy, it found him.

And he tried to forget about it. Really. Slammed the drawer closed so so quickly he almost smashed his fingers. He even took a long, ice cold shower to keep himself from chubbing up. Thought about anything and everything except for his recent discovery– car transmissions, his next DnD campaign, Wrestlemania, Wayne's mug collection, anything to get his mind off of you. Which is easier said than done when he’s using your soap to scrub away the car grime and shame.

It's no wonder his cock remains semi-hard for the rest of the evening. He discovered his crush’s vibrator. Who moves on from that? Like, are you really pining over your friend if you aren't hyperfixating on their sex toy?

Besides, Eddie is a naturally curious person. He’s seen his fair share of porn and all the actors seem to have a grand ol’ time when there's a Hitachi between their legs. He wouldn’t mind trying one himself, but they’re expensive. Sure, he’s got a stable job at Thacher Tire, but he’s not in a tax bracket where he can drop $100 on casual curiosity.

But now…

It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity, he reasons, thumb ghosting over the power button in debate. That logic is how he ends up in his current position – naked in your bed with his cock resting against his tummy as he inspects your wand.

It’s heavier than he imagined, the noticeable weight only rivaled by the angel on his shoulder yelling at him to put it back. But it's your toy. He's had a crush on your longer than he'd like to admit. And no matter how many times Steve pushes him to ask you out, he's certain you don't feel the same. You're just friends, and this might be his only opportunity to know you on a more intimate level.

A fucked up, kinda gross and intrusive opportunity, but still. Beggars can't be choosers.

And right now, Eddie can't help thinking how it's oh so very interesting that you left your wand out in the first place. You knew he’d be staying at your place, sleeping in your bed. There was a chance he’d stumble across it. You could have made an effort to hide it, but you didn't. You left it there for anyone to see, for Eddie to see.

Did you want him to find it? Did you want him to think of you using it?

Because if that was your plan, it's sure as hell working. His last functioning brain cell work to conjure up various images of you laid out in the very spot he is now in, pleasuring yourself until your whole body shakes and your thighs are drenched.

Wait, could you squirt?

The women in porn usually squirt. Even the men come so hard it hits the ceiling. He shifts in your bed, imaging the pretty green sheets beneath him soaked with your juices as he brings the wand closer to his face.

The buttons are a little faded and there are some tiny scratches, but no major signs of use. The wand is clean, and obviously cared for. Which now has Eddie thinking how long you've had it. How often do you use it? Enough to make the plastic smell like you? He wonders…

Smashing his nose against the plastic, he inhales until his lungs balloon out. The smell of plastic hit him first, following by a muted scent that tickles his nostrils. Natural musk and sweat.

Jesus H. Christ, he is smelling you.

He can’t bite back the low rumble from escaping, groaning as if he's being tortured. His cock twitches against his tummy, a fat pearl of precum budding at the tip. There’s no turning back now. Not when he kitten licks the bulbous head picturing your cunt in its place. He thinks of how good you'd taste, how wet and shiny you'd be as he dips into your hole.

Fuck it. It’s a one time thing. You won’t be home for another two days. The only potential witness to his debauchery is your cat, and they’re too distracted with a catnip toy in your living room.

“No one will know, they won’t,” He tells himself, taking one final sniff before grabbing a hold of his cock. He might not be able to step foot into your bedroom ever again, and there's a chance he won't be able to look you in the eyes, but, hey, that’s a problem for future Eddie.

It takes him a second to find a comfortable position, eventually settling to hold the wand perpendicular to his cock as he leans back against the headboard.

Just once to know what it feels like, he thinks. There is about a centimeter of space between the wand and his cock, but it's still close enough to make his breath hitch when he pushes down on the power button.

“Fuck!”

His stomach seizes, muscles tightening so violently he all but sits up. Jerking the wand away from him, he tries to compose himself as the toy makes his entire arm shake. It’s embarrassingly loud even on the lowest setting, but holy shit is it powerful. It hadn’t even touched him, but Eddie still shook in shocked bliss. He and an ex occasionally messed around with a mini pocket vibrator, but this. This is otherworldly.

And perhaps now would be a good place to stop. He's tried it, knows it could raise the dead. Pack it in, Munson. Put it back where you found it. Right?

Right.

Except his lack of self-control has doubled in size and devoured the last crumb of common sense he possessed. He's already started, might as well finish. He's already corrupted your friendship, at least let him get an orgasm out of it.

This time he lets the wand kiss his cock to send brutal ripples across his throbbing erection. With motorized tremors traveling all the way down to his balls, he imagines you on your knees, working his pants and boxers down so you could take out his cock. You bring him towards your mouth, stopping mere centimeters away, much like he had done with the wand. Your hot breath is fanning out against the underside of his cock as you say, “You have such a pretty cock, Eddie. Can I kiss it?”

“Y–yeah. Go on, sweetheart.”

As Imaginary You kisses the tip, he pulls the wand back just enough to dull the pulsing. He pretends the sensation is your mouth, kissing all the way around his tip. Down and around until your lips shine with his precum.

His groans are barely audible above the loud buzzing. He keeps his cock still, letting the wand trace the path of a particularly thick vein as he pretends it's your tongue. He imagines stroking the back of your head, coaxing you to take him into your mouth.

“Doin’ so good, sweetheart. Look so pretty with your mouth full of my cock. D'you know that?”

You move your head in a disjointed nod, tears puddling in the corners of your eyes as the warmth of your mouth envelopes him. His fist tightens around his cock at the thought of you moaning with your mouth stuffed of him.

“Go on, you can take a little more.”

It's not the vibrator that is shooting sparks of arousal through his cock, it's you and your moans. He ruminates on his fantasy, imagines you kissing and sucking like he's your favorite flavor of ice cream. Slowly moving the wand up and down until he’s built up the courage to take the wand lower.

The closer he gets to his balls, the more his cock leaks until it looks like he dumped on a bottle of lube on his crotch. He thinks of you grinding against the floor, his cock thrusting in and out of your mouth, until the vibrating head is nestled in the space between his cock and his balls. In his mind, you match his desperation by grinding against his boot, shining it with your slick.

Eddie teeters on the edge of release, panting like he’s run a marathon, his cock now an angry shade of purple. He's not gonna last for long. A fucking toy has reduced him to a virgin whose just watched Fast Times at Ridgemont High for the first time.

Shit. Now he's thinking about tits.

Your tits. He's never seen them, but he does remember all those hot, summer days spent cooling off at Lover's Lake. He can work with that. If there is anything DnD and tonight have proven, it's that he’s got a damn good imagination.

His broken whimpers match the way his thoughts slowly break off into disconnected clips as he hurtles himself closer to release. Your boobs cushioning his face. Him sucking bruises into your skin. Him notching himself at your entrance. You squirming so much he has to hold your hips down.

“Come on, Eddie. Need it, need you. I’ve been good.”

He’s drooling at the thought of your pussy, pulsing and warm and so fucking inviting as he sinks into your heat. You’re moaning too, whining his name as if you crave him as much as he craves you.

“Ohmygod, I feel you. Feel so good.”

“There you go, taking me so good. Wanted this for so long you don’t even know.”

The loud buzzing eggs him on, making his hips buck with little grace. He's not doing it for the extra stimulation, but as a visceral response to the heightened passion of the moment. It's everything working in tandem – the wand, his fantasies, and the piece of him that wishes this could become a reality. He can’t sit still, not when pleasure is this good.

The waves of dizzying pleasure carry him closer to oblivion, just a bit more and he'll be there.

Eddie's next move is consequential. Letting go of his cock, he moves to cups his heavy balls, tugging them up just enough to push the wand head into the space below his balls. The noise he makes is wild, animalistic in the way his vocal cords constrict, as the fierce vibrations spread all the way to his asshole. The feeling sinks into his flesh, radiating through his taint to shale his prostate.

He recalls every instance when you called his name, the soundtrack to his fantasy. He feels the phantom pressure of your heels digging into his lower back. You keep him locked in place, as if he would have left you.

"Eddie, please! Come inside me. W–want your cum."

He does his best to imagine what it would be like to pump you full, to feel you pulse around him, to smell his cologne mix with your sweat, to see his release dripping out of you. He needs it, needs you. The hand holding the wand went numb ages ago, but he still manages to extend a finger to turn up the intensity.

From there, it's a combustion of stars. Groaning, body shaking with little remorse, Eddie spills his seed in thick ropes. He's levitating off the bed, he has to be with how intense this orgasm is. All he can do to soothe himself is call your name until he is reduced to the cum covering his abdomen.

He can't remember when or how he turned off the wand, but it’s now on the floor. Quietude falls over your tiny apartment, and somehow it's more deafening than the motorized buzzing. It hits him like a heavy gust of wind, blowing in a profound sense of shame for what he just did.

Fuck. Did he…? Did that actually happen?

“Oh God,” He groans. Yeah, he really did that. His embarrassment is hot like fire and as rough as brimstone. He knows he needs to clean up and hide the evidence of his perversion, but he lays paralyzed at the inevitable consequences of his actions. Eddie is a mess, both physically and mentally.

Messy Munson, that's his new name.

Or maybe it's not that bad, he thinks. Maybe it just seems like that. He dares himself to look down at his spent cock and–

Jesus H. Christ, he didn't know one person could produce that much cum.

His abdomen is flooded, there is cum pooled in his belly button, and the thatch of pubic hair is glued together from his seed. And of course, it couldn't just stay in it's place, it's had to drip down to soil your sheets.

Throwing his head back into your pillow, he shuts his eyes as if the sight pains him. He did this and he's got to fix it. There is absolutely no way that you can find out about this. As he stands on shaky, Bambi legs, he starts a mental checklist:

Take another shower

Wash your sheets

Resist the urge to do it again

Clean your wand and place it back exactly as it was

Forget about your Hitachi (like, actually forget this time)

Figure out how to act like nothing ever happened

Do NOT do it again

divider by @/strangergraphics

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson #bbyhellfire

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fairysluna · 8 months

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I have a request 🙄🤭 threesome cregan Jace and reader no plot just smut maybe? Either modern or not

MASTERLIST

Hope you like this story made especially for you!! please enjoy it and thank you for sending this request🤍 This is the first threesome I've ever written, so this is complete new territory for me, I hope I did good tho.💀

Reblogs, comments and feedback are highly appreciated!

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Jacaerys Velaryon.

TAGS — canon!time, targcest (brother/sister), porn w/o plot, smut (threesome, F/M/M, oral sex - both receiving, face fucking, p in v, slight degrading, breeding, praising, spit, pussy slapping, belly buldge, overstimulation, aftercare), cursing, a tiny bit of cregan x jace, cregan and reader are betrothed, dom!cregan/switch!jace/sub!reader. If something is missing let me know!!

WORD COUNT — 2k.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

Cregan loved to hear how overstimulated you were. His hands were gripping your thighs - keeping your legs spreaded. He saw how Jacaerys was eagerly lapping at your throbbing clit, moaning and whimpering against your flesh. You were crying already, tears of raw pleasure streaming down your face as your entire body trembled between his arms. You were barely able to hold it together anymore, laying against Cregan's chest - eyelids closing by themselves.

Jacaerys, your sweet brother, had no intention to stop. His tongue doing wonders as he dived it inside of you - his nose rubbing against your clit. His face was red and sweaty, covered in your slick after stealing three orgasm from you - yet it seemed he hadn't had enough. Your hips would twitch, trying to squirm away from his hungry mouth without success.

“Please, stop! It's- it's too much… I can't!” you mumbled, digging your nails in Cregan's arm. “Jace- Jace, please…”

The youngest man looked up from his position, his tongue still attached to your folds, slowly circling around your swollen pearl while his deep, brown eyes stared at you through a layer of lust. He searched for Cregan's approval, and he denied it.

“Don't listen to her,” he huskily said. His hot breath against your neck caused shivers down your spine. “She's a tough girl, right? I bet she can handle another one.”

“M-my lord… please…”

“What kind of host would I be if I don't make sure my guests are satisfied?” A deep laugh followed his words, a simple sound that almost pushed you over the edge. “Your dear brother hasn't finished his meal yet, be a good princess and keep your legs open for him, okay? He’ll know when it's enough.”

Jacaerys followed Lord Stark's words, indulging further in your taste until you were nothing but a mess between their arms. He would use his fingers to tease your entrance, pushing them in and then pulling them out to lick you off. He repeated this action multiple times, until you were cumming on his face once again and coating his long fingers with your slick. He hummed, delighted to drink from you, enjoying the sweetness of your release and devouring every single drop that came out of you.

Once he finally decided to pull away, you sighed - relieved that he had finally stopped and gave you time to rest. Cregan cooed against your ear, praising you with soft words as his thumbs wiped the tears that had fallen down your warm cheeks.

“Such a good job,” he murmured. “Taking everything we give you, huh?.”

“I'll never get tired of her taste,” Jacaerys added- almost in a whine, caressing your thighs. “So sweet, and so addictive.”

“Oh. Do you hear how greatly your brother speaks of you? He's so sweet, so nice to you- to us…” he added, looking at the Prince who was kneeling in bed in front of the both of you. “I think you should reward him for what he has done to you.”

Jacaerys whimpered, thrilled with the idea.

“Look at him, princess,” Cregan added, stretching his arm and holding Jace's cheek. His thumb brushed against his plump lips. “Our poor Prince has his lips sore after eating your sweet little cunt for too long ”

You observed in awe how your brother parted his lips to receive Cregan's thumb inside his mouth - his tongue twirling around his digit as his brown eyes glint with lust. A moan escaped from you, feeling the arousal pooling on your soaked flesh. The neediness inside your body only increased once you saw your lordship bringing his thumb to his own mouth, and tasting the mixture of your juices and Jace's drool. Your mouth parted, bewitched by the scene.

“Mhm…” he groaned in approval, “it still tastes like you.” He let out a throaty chuckle. “I suppose now it's time for you to give your dear brother a reward for what he did to you. He deserves it after being such a good boy, isn't that right?”

“Yes,” you breathed out, agreeing with him.

“What if… you suck his cock while I fuck you with mine? Doesn't that sound good?” Cregan proposed with a smile.

“Please,” your brother replied before you did.

Cregan looked at you for your consent and you effusively nodded - a satisfied smile appeared on his face.

You sighed tiredly once you felt his arms wrapping around your body and moving you around as if you were his doll. He did it so effortlessly, positioning you on your back with your head almost hanging from the edge of the bed and with a pillow below your hips. You noticed how he signed to your brother and he immediately moved until he was standing in front of your face - his leaking tip just mere inches away from your drooling mouth.

“Spread your legs for me,” Cregan commanded, and you immediately obeyed. Your exposed flesh was burning red, drenching with all the stimulation it had before, glistening under the dim lights of the candles and the fireplace. “So pretty…” he murmured, using his thumb to play with your clit, slowly drawing circles on it - you mewled. “I understand why your brother is so obsessed with you, my princess. You have the prettiest cunt in the whole fucking realm.”

He pulled away, enough to stand up from the bed and get rid of his pants. Seconds later, his hardness stood proudly as he crawled back at you, bouncing with every movement he made until he was towering your smaller frame. Cregan gathered his drool on his mouth to then let it fall right on top of your folds - he spreaded it with the head of his cock and, before you knew it, he was slowly stretching your tightness. Your walls would clamp around him, involuntarily trying to push him out as he struggled to sink deeper into you.

“Seven hells,” he grunted, “you're still struggling to take me, huh? Guess I'll have to fuck you more often then.”

As you felt the air leaving your legs with each thrust, you saw Jacaerys grabbing his cock and giving a few strokes at it. With his tip, he tapped on your swollen lips and you opened wide to receive him too. “There you go…” you heard him saying, before he let you wrap your mouth against him. “Mhm… so good,” he praised you.

The whine that escaped you once Cregan was fully sheathed on you was muffled due to your stuffed mouth. Both men moaned at the same time, looking at your body laying there, ready to be used as they pleased.

Gods, they truly loved their little princess.

Cregan was not being very patient as other times, and he quickly started to pound roughly against you, holding your hips to keep you in place as the movement made you take Jace deeper in your mouth. The youngest man started to move his hips too, unable to be still and longing for more - obsessed with the sight of your breasts bouncing in your chest with each thrust.

The main room in the Winterfell castle soon was filled with desperate panting and moaning. The sound of Cregan's body slamming against yours was buzzing in your ears while he managed to hit every right place inside your soft walls, abusing that sweet spot that would make you see stars behind your eyelids. All while you were choking around Jacaerys' cock, who was moving himself deeper with each passing second.

Both of your brother's hands wrapped around your throat to find some stability, this gesture made you cry out in pleasure - loving the way you felt with his hands around your neck.

“Come on, little one,” he grunted as he looked down at your drooling mouth, receiving him so eagerly while you gagged and gulped around him. “I know you can take me deeper… Go on- oh fuck, just like that… shit.”

“Who would've thought that our Princess was such a good slut?” Cregan added, breathless as dig his nails on your hips. “Can't wait to marry our little whore and fill her with my seed until she's round with my pups…” The way your walls squeezed him so tightly made him know that you loved the idea too. “Perhaps I'll let your brother fill this cunny too, mhm? Bet you would love it- fuck… ”

Jacaerys hands involuntarily tightened his grip around your throat, and you knew he was getting closer. “Fuck- M’so close…” he whined. “Fuuck…”

“Imagine it, my prince,” Cregan teased him, smirking as he locked eyes with him. “Her pretty cunny leaking with your seed, her belly filled and round. Isn't that such a pretty sight?”

“Y-yes…” he mumbled, struggling to keep his movements steady. “Oh, fuck… yes.”

His eyes closed as he leaned his head back, and suddenly his length escaped from your lips - you gasped. He peaked right there, letting a few drops of his seed spurt on your breasts before he would put his cock back into your mouth so you could swallow the rest. You eagerly licked it all, cleaning him as felt his legs getting weak with the subtle overstimulation you were providing him - yet, it felt too delicious to stop.

“What a piece of art,” Cregan mumbled, seeing your skin being tainted by pearly drops. “So fucking pretty.”

Jacaerys fell on his knees next to you, you felt his hand slipping down your body as Lord Stark pounded against you like a savage. Your brother's fingers found your swollen pearl, slowly stroking it while you were being filled. Cregan groaned in approval, fastening his pace.

The creamy sound of your juices covering his cock was so obscene, bringing a slight embarrassment to you - Gods, you were so wet. With the overstimulation you were receiving once again, you felt closer to edge faster than you thought.

“Come on, my pretty girl,” Jace cooed in your ear as he peppered soft kisses around it. “I know you're so close… you were so good to us, letting us use you as we pleased. You deserve to cum.”

His fingers stopped tracing figures on your clit, only to replace it with soft taps against your sensitive flesh. You mewled.

“Look how deep Cregan is,” he mentioned with a smirk. “I can see it in your tummy…”

“M’so close…” you mumbled. “Gods! Please, I need it so bad…”

Jace removed his hand from your core, taking it to your mouth where he slipped in two fingers. You receive them eagerly, twirling your tongue around it and sucking them off as you taste yourself. Meanwhile, Cregan grabbed the back of your legs, pressing your thighs against your body and going deeper and harder against you. You tried to keep up with the intensity of it all, but it was too much - tears were falling down your face as you were fucked against the mattress, barely able to move.

“Come on, let me feel you, princess,” he grunted as he buried his face on your neck. “Want you to fall apart in my arms…”

Your skin was burning and you were gasping, trying to fill your lungs with the air they needed - Cregan would grunt against your skin, being loud and shameless as he was about to reach his peak. You suddenly felt the waves of an intense orgasm washing over you as you released your pleasure in spurs, soaking the sheets beneath you and your Cregan's hair trail. That sight must have been the limit for him, who immediately filled you up with his seed, covering your insides with his pearly drops until it started to leak out of you.

His body pressed against yours as he tried to calm down. His length would twitch inside you each time you clenched around him, until he was absolutely dried and spent.

Jacaerys went to look for something to clean you up, almost moaning when he saw Cregan pulling out of you and his seed oozing from your entrance. Such an obscene view had both men drooling.

You were too tired to even move, so after they made sure to wipe out the sticky mess between your legs, they grabbed your body and took you to the center of the bed - laying between them. Right in that moment, you felt like you were in heaven, being pampered by the two men you loved the most and receiving all the attention you desired.

The fact that this was your future brought a smile on your face.

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#cregan stark #jacaerys velaryon #house of the dragon #cregan stark x reader #jacaerys velaryon x reader #cregan stark x jacaerys velaryon x reader #f/m/m #hotd fanfic #hotd smut

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missqhughes · 22 days

Text

MORE THAN FRIENDS | L. HUGHES43

-> luke hughes x fem! reader

-> contains: angst (resolved), kissing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of sex and sexual acts, fluff, use of y/n, lowercase intended

-> IN WHICH: all the alcohol has wore off, and y/n finds herself naked in her best friends bed. things take a turn for the worst when luke starts to hint regret towards what they did the night before; but what does that mean for their friendship?

-> part 2 to get comfortable! i’m sorry i can’t just write pure angst i’ll make myself too sad. but dw it’s gonna be so juicy. also if ur missing someone goooooood fucking luck reading this w dry eyes 🫥alsoloveitasmuchasidothankyouhappyreadingggg!

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

the all too well known pounding headache was the first thing y/n woke up to; oh, and also being completely naked in luke’s bed.

her eyes made their best attempt to adjust to the sunlight that poured into his bedroom. she turned over to her side, and there was luke sleeping peacefully, the blanket dangerously low on his waist, revealing hickies littered all over his v-line and stomach.

with a heavy breath, she checks down her own body; chest abused with hickies, trailing all the way down to her inner thighs. a quick look over to her backside reveals a red, unmistakable hand mark on her ass.

there was no denying that she had sex with luke last night.

y/n feels the bed shifting, a groan coming from the boy next to her.

“oh, you’re already up,”

his voice is horse, a combination of his drowsy state and losing it the night before. y/n turns around to face him, lifting up the comforter to cover her chest, any attempt to conceal her bare body to his now sober eyes.

“yeah, i just woke up literally a minute ago,” she says, a small smile to accompany. his eyes scan over her body, taking in all of it, eyes fluttering in an almost of a surprise of what he had done with it.

“do you… do you remember anything of what we did last night?”

y/n started to recount everything of the night before, how she felt with he was thrusting deep into her, his teeth sinking into her skin. how he looked with his head thrown back when she was on her knees in front of him. how he kissed up and down her back, not daring to let go.

“yeah… yeah i do.” she said, mouth twitching into a smile, anything to cure the tension. luke said nothing.

and there it was.

silence.

silen-

“i think you should go.” his words were a lot colder and harsher than he intended, but he sat up, refusing eye contact with her.

“you know to like… shower and eat and whatnot.”

nice save, she thought.

“no yeah, you’re right, i’m gonna change then be out of here,” she said, collecting her scattered clothing all over the floor. y/n changed into her short pink dress from the night before, ready for the walk-to-the-uber of shame that was ready to greet her.

while she changed, luke also got himself into a pair of boxers. y/n glanced over to him for a second, the image of him in his boxers, tired eyes and his body left with evidence of sex on it being burned into her brain.

“i’ll see you later yeah?” y/n said, opening the door and expecting luke’s usual response of “always,”

he purse his lips before responding, “bye.”

his words weren’t cold, or harsh, but disconnected.

disconnected from her.

y/n looked back at him, and he was already facing away. she wanted to say something, but didn’t let herself. instead she turned around and left.

——————————————————————————

it had been days since luke had spoken to y/n.

a million and one thoughts were racing in her head, each causing more anxiety than the last. they would come up at random times, like a jumpscare any time she let her thoughts travel to luke.

cooking dinner,

did he think it was bad?

studying,

did he regret what they did?

laying in bed, at approximately 3:46am,

did she ruin their friendship?

enough was enough. she needed answers, and she needed them now.

she knew he had practice this day, so in about 20 minutes, y/n found herself stomping into the yost ice arena, on the prowl to find luke. practice had just ended, and she shoved past the other guys and ignored the looks of confusion they gave her each other.

she ripped open the locker room door to a surpised luke, jersey off, but still in gear. his mouth opened, but y/n wasn’t going to let him get the opportunity to speak before her.

“where the hell do you get off on not speaking to me? huh? is it because we fucked? is that it?”

y/n pointed her finger at him accusingly, her face contorted into a look of disgust, but also sadness, and confusion. she was on the guard, but deep down scared shitless of what he was going to say.

luke sighed heavily, facing away from her and shuffling with the things in his section, “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

y/n scoffed, “bullshit and you know it. what is it? tell me the truth luke warren. so what, we fucked okay? is that really the only reason you don’t speak to me of all people for days?”

he still had his back away from her, but his with his head dipped down, arms on his side. “it was a mistake. we shouldn’t have done it.”

she felt tears welling up in her eyes, cheeks flushed hot with anger and embarrassment.

“i’m so glad you think that luke,” she paused, making the best effort she could to control the shakyness in her voice, or how her throat burned in an attempt to get the words out. “if this is how you’re going to act after what happened, don’t speak to me now, or ever.”

it stung like hell to say, but she meant it. having enough with the situation, not being able to bear how much it hurt for him to be in her presence, she turned around and walked to the exit.

she didn’t look back. not like last time. but luke did. his body faced her as she slammed the door shut, only catching the last bit of her clothing and hair, her scent lingering where she was standing. his eyes were tinted red from tears, breath caught in his throat from regret with what he said, and even worse, what he didn’t say.

——————————————————————————

weeks had passed since they last spoke.

y/n was a mess. she refused to go out, turning her nose up at even the thought of drinking. her body ached when her mind wandered to luke; what he was doing, how he was doing, if he was thinking of her.

it hurt like hell.

and there she sat, curled up in the shower, recounting the memories her and luke shared. how they were always the first to wish happy birthday to each other. sharing their first middle school class together. sitting by the firepit, talking for hours at the lake house. crying in each others arms when they both got accepted to their shared dream school. graduation. a picture her parents took of them hugging outside their freshman year dorm building. how they held each other when no one else would understand, how they would still laugh their asses off even when no one would understand the joke but them.

oh, how he understood her. how fiercely they cared for one another, how he was always there, how she loved him, how it was always him. if it was one person she could choose, over and over again, it was luke.

but he was gone. just like that.

y/n had been in there for so long her fingers were wrinkled, and the water had turned a numbing coolness. she forced herself to get out, thanking to god that none of her roommates were home, knowing how pissed they’d be about her water usage.

she changed into sweatpants first, then begrudgingly putting on one of luke’s sweatshirts, a dark blue crewneck that read “michigan hockey” across it. y/n knew it would hurt to wear it, but she wanted any bit of luke left she could have.

about 10 minutes had passed, y/n was combing through her slightly damp hair, when she heard a knock at the door.

she went up to answer it, thinking one of her roommates was back and had just forgotten their key.

instead, y/n was met with a clearly unwell luke. his eyes were dark from lack of sleep, lips resting in a frown, all resting on a somber face to top it all off.

she felt like she was hallucinating. that she was in a dream, that her body was going to twitch and bring her back down to earth, back to reality. back to sitting down combing her hair, luke nowhere in sight.

they said nothing but everything at the same time. their expressions exactly matched, but still not quite knowing what the other was thinking.

“luke,” she breathed out, his name in the air barely above a whisper. y/n’s eyes fluttered, the emotions coming in like they never did before.

“can i come in, please?” his voice cracked, his expression pleading her to come in more than his words did.

she nodded, moving out of the way so he could step in. she sat over to walk on the couch, adding a pillow to her lap, hoping luke wasn’t able to see her body shaking and riddled with anxiety at his presence. but also comfort, and hope.

“why are you here luke?” y/n asked, demanding to know why he randomly showed up, after weeks of silence between them.

he ran his hands through his curls, biting his lip harshly before delivering his answer, “i need to be honest, i needed to tell the truth to you.”

“i thought you did that when we talked in the locker room,” she hissed, “all of that sounded pretty truthful to me.”

she didn’t want to rude, but how could he say that after practically punching her in the gut that day?

“no, you don’t understand,” he kneeled down to her level, unable to control the shaky hands that he brought up to hold his head in.

“then help me understand luke,” y/n voice was much softer this time, chest throbbing with pain seeing luke in more distress than she has ever seen him in.

“i was scared,” he said in a short breath, teardrops painting his cheeks, “i was scared after what we did because i thought it meant nothing to you, that we were just drunk. that you would tell me that you regret what we did, but i didn’t. not once.”

her gaze bounced between his hazel eyes, shocked at the news he was telling her. his face didn’t relax once, as he continued his truth, “i’m so in love with you y/n. i’m so scared you don’t feel the same way. i care about you, i need you, i feel so fucking…so fucking lost when you’re not there. nothing has felt the same.”

“i should’ve told you the truth, and i’m sorry.” his voice cracked again, and now luke was in full on sobs.

y/n could say nothing yet, still in shock, now again feeling like she was hallucinating. she opened her arms, and luke sat down on the couch with her and came crashing in.

he buried his face in the crook of her neck, arms tightly wrapped around her, terrified that if he let go she would be gone again. he cried into her, taking in her scent, her warm skin, her gentle touch, all of which he missed dearly.

“i love you, luke. i love you, i should’ve said it sooner,” y/n felt the pain that had accumulated for weeks begin to disappear in minutes with luke, the only ailment to her sickness. he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers with closed eyes.

“we both should’ve said it sooner, i’m so sorry y/n. i cant let you go. not now, now ever,” he held her tighter than ever, shifting his head to plant a soft kiss on her forhead.

she cupped his face in her hands, seeing him look at her with so much love made her stomach flutter.

“you have me luke, always.”

that’s when he kissed her. it was night and day between the first time their lips met. the first was new, lustful, wavering in its stability. this time, it was familiar, warm and feeling like they both could go on like this forever. their lips moved in perfect harmony, y/n crawling atop luke’s lap to bring herself as close to him as she possibly could.

they just barely pulled away, desperately needing to catch their breaths.

“now you’re never getting rid of me lu,” she giggled,

“wouldn’t even dream of it,” luke said, laying her down on the couch in her fit of giggles, peppering sweet kisses all over her face.

——————————————————————————

xoxo, kaia

#luke hughes #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #lh43 #nhl imagine #nhl fic #hockey #new jersey devils #nj devils #umich hockey #umich boys #luke hughes fanfic #nhl #luke hughes x you

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owliellder · 1 year

Text

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x Painter f! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Author Note: You know how each president of the U.S. gets a painting at the end of their term? I'm thinking like that. Plus, my favorite hobby is recreating renaissance art, so I figured this was a good fit (hopefully).

Cross posted onto AO3

Session 1: The Sketches

It was late at night when Leon made his decision to retire fully.

He had gotten home over an hour ago from reviewing mountains of paperwork, most of which pertained to missions that other agents have gone on or will be going on.

Younger agents. More energized agents.

The fact that he hadn't gone on a full mission since San Francisco was driving him up the wall. But that's what he wanted. He requested to hang back the last two years.

Both Chris and Claire had fully retired themselves right after San Fran, Claire being the first to retire to focus on her growing family with Chris following suit only a few months later. Jill was still around, but she was doing similar work that Leon was, only she was in a completely different department which was states away.

Of course Leon still talked with them all as regularly as possible, he'd go insane if he didn't, especially with Claire having a couple kids now. He wasn't the greatest with children, but it was refreshing seeing his friends achieve such normalcy. He wanted them to have the best life they could away from everything.

Having turned 40 a few some months ago, Leon was having a bit of a mid-life crisis. The mission to San Francisco a couple years ago had made him realize just how much toll the job itself had taken on his body. After being assessed and allowed home a few nights after returning from the mission, his body ached; joints creaking, back nearly thrown, just... tired.

Don't get him wrong, he was always tired after missions, but this was different. This wasn't just the regular aches and pains he dealt with after being tossed around like a rag doll, this was age.

Deep in his mind, Leon was still that 21 year old boy in Raccoon City. He never got the chance to properly grieve and move on, his mind forever changed by that event. Mentally, he was stuck there and had been this entire time.

It had taken the man this long to truly recognize the fact that he's older now. He's not that boy from Raccoon City anymore. He hadn't been in a long time.

What was he do to now? Leon had wanted so badly to serve and protect the people, but not like this. Not like he has for the past 29 years.

He spent his most formative years fighting unimaginable horrors, watching people suffer, watching people die. You don't just come back from something like that.

And unlike the friends he's managed to keep close, Leon didn't have someone he trusted. Hell, he barely trusted himself most days.

So now here he was, sitting drunk in his shower with his legs pulled up to his chest, his arms resting atop his knees while the water pelted down on him, silently mulling over everything he's ever seen and done during his time as an agent.

The water had grown cold at this point, Leon having quickly lost track of how long he was sitting spaced out like that for. Thankfully, he'd already cleaned himself before he ended up sitting down, so the hardest part now was just standing back up to get himself back out.

It took him a couple more minutes before he finally hoisted himself up with a tired groan, both his knees popping from being stuck in position for such a lengthy amount of time.

Once out of the shower, towel loosely wrapped around his waist, Leon stared at himself in the mirror; busy studying the crow's feet on both outer corners of his eyes as well as the prominent bags sitting under them, the smile line around his mouth, his now brown hair, the stubble on his face and neck that's he's neglected to shave, and just how exhausted he looked.

How has he never noticed any of this before? Why's he look so different now?

Settling into bed after this brutal realization was a tough task. The man followed his nightly routine of taking four Tylenol and two of his prescription sleep meds before setting his a/c 65 degrees Fahrenheit. He learned quickly many years ago that tossing and turning at night would make him overheat and sweat.

But tonight, nothing Leon did could ease that sinking feeling in his chest, that feeling of unfulfillmemt and shame weighing on him more than ever before.

The poor man barely slept at all last night, hangover evident by the way he was still slightly uneven on his feet as he leaned over the center island in his kitchen, head between his forearms while his hands sat clasped together.

Leon knew what he had to do. He's been feeling it ever since Chris and Claire made their departure, but it was so easy to deny. How was he suppose to give up the one thing that made him important? Sure the stress of his work was heavily tasking on the mind and body, but it's what gave him purpose. He felt useful doing what he did.

The man showed up for work late that day, barely having managed to dress himself. He didn't know exactly who to go to in this scenario, but everyone seemed surprised that the Leon Kennedy would show up for work in some ratty t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The stares were making him incredibly uncomfortable and he was quickly regretting showing up at all.

After sitting in his own office for awhile to avoid the looks and whispers, Leon eventually sauntered over to his superior's office, an almost solemn look on his face as he let himself in after knocking.

Needless to say, Leon was relieved his superior knew this was coming. Slightly offended, but relieved nonetheless.

It had been a long time coming, and it was only a matter of time before Leon threw in the towel, especially since he was now just working behind the scenes instead of on the frontline.

He was allowed to return home for the rest of the day if he wanted to, which Leon quickly took. He really didn't want to be in that building for much longer.

As soon as he returned home he went right back to drinking. And as ashamed as he is to admit, he even cried a little, half empty whiskey bottle in one hand while the other was clenched tightly into a fist as he gripped the pant leg of his sweats.

There wasn't anyone Leon could talk to about this. Chris and Claire had their own respective partners to come home to after retirement, but Leon? Leon had nothing besides a dingy and cold two bedroom house with only the basics inside, including his alcohol cabinet.

The man didn't even give himself time to date, only the occasional one night stand with randoms from the bar. He was too afraid that he would endanger anyone he allowed into his life like that, not to mention he'd been betrayed one too many times to trust in someone that way again. It was his way of keeping himself and everyone else safe.

The therapists he was assigned throughout the years all had the same concern regarding his love life, and deep down Leon was just as concerned, but he rationalized it with that hero complex he developed.

But he just couldn't rationalize it anymore. Leon was alone. He was alone, sad, and afraid.

About a month after Leon's retirement was processed and announced, word spread quickly throughout numerous government branches. There was a celebration set up at the White House to honor his service as a field agent.

The President had separated him and Leon from the party to slowly walk through the many hallways in the building. The old man could tell just how bothered the now ex-agent was by his retirement, so he figured now would be the best time to talk to him about his final task.

"You know," The President spoke up after a couple minutes of the two walking in silence, prompting Leon to slowly turn his head to listen. "I'm sure you've heard it so many times tonight, but you truly were one of the best agents I've ever seen."

Leon chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit at the compliment. He had heard it a lot tonight, but obviously it was different coming from him.

"I'm serious. This county, probably the entire world, would've been in shambles if not for your hours spent." The President continued, slowing his walking to a stop.

"It means more than you know." Leon responded simply, voice a bit gravelly from the few drinks he's had. He took a couple steps more before stopping as well, turning around to face the prominent old man.

The President sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile while nodding. They stood in silence for a brief moment before the old man spoke up again, pointing lazily down the hall. "Follow me, I've got something I want to show you."

From there, the two wandered further down the halls until eventually reaching one hall that had lights more centered towards the walls, highlighting the picture frames that sat evenly spaced out amongst them.

Leon seemed a tad confused until he was able to focus on the first painting they walked by. He knew each president got a portrait painted after their full term was served, but the man in this painting wasn't a past president.

He stopped walking to stand in front of the painting, admiring the details it had before glancing down at the bottom of the elegant frame, a placard reading a name he didn't recognize. What he did recognize, though, was the word Agent that sat in front of the man's name.

While zoned into the placard, Leon didn't register the gentle hand that had been clasped on his shoulder, the President's voice breaking through his trance. "For as long as there's been bioweapons, we've had agents fighting to stop them. But only a few agents have truly outdone themselves. Agents like you."

Leon blinked a couple times before turning his head to look at the hand on his shoulder, eyebrows furrowed. He wasn't quite understanding what he was saying.

The President took his silence as a cue to continue, his sympathetic smile turning into a happier one as he gently tugged Leon's shoulder to get him to start walking again. "The D.S.O. has produced some of the greatest agents since Benford created it back in 2011. You were amazing before, but you've outdone yourself time and time again."

Leon still wasn't quite understanding, really only half listening as he kept his eyes trained to the numerous portraits of agents as he slowly passed them.

The two stopped in front of the last painting in the hallway, only a few spots away from leading into another hallway. It was Chris and Claire in this painting. Chris was sitting down in a chair while Claire stood next to him, hand resting on back of it, both of them smiling.

He studied the painting for a minute longer before whipping his head around to face the President, who was still smiling, as the realization slowly settling in.

"I-" Leon struggling to speak, glancing back at the painting before quickly looking back at the old man standing next to him.

The President simply nodded his head, smile widening with a gentle laugh. "Right. The painting process takes a bit of time, but I think you've more than earned this."

The ex-agent had so many questions. Firstly, why hadn't Chris or Claire mentioned this? But more importantly, he gets to have his own portrait painted?

"The painter knows all about you. She's excited to meet you." The President started down the hall again, Leon not far behind, still stuttering out nonsense as he attempted to form even a sentence. "I'll give you the information you need to get started with her. I have it written down back in my office."

A painting?

A painting. A painting for him. A painting to honor him. What?

Leon was once again sat on his couch, blankly staring at the small business card with a date and time written on it in pen. He'd read the info on the card so many times already, wanting to make sure he got absolutely nothing wrong.

Apparently he didn't have to call and confirm, all he had to do was show up to this random address at a specific date and time, which was soon. In a couple days kind of soon. Also, he thought he was reading the time wrong, but no, it was four in the morning, not four in the afternoon. What an odd and rather inconvenient time.

Even after memorizing the business card front to back, Leon would be lying if he said he didn't forget about meeting up with this mystery painter. He'd been rather aloof the past couple months, it was hard to pull himself out of that funk. He'd been staying up late and sleeping in even later, so hitting snooze on his alarm a good few times was just muscle memory at this point.

It was almost 5am when he realized where he was suppose to be, eyes shooting open as he yanked himself out of bed, desperately trying to clean himself up enough to be at least presentable.

The man was mentally chastising himself the entire drive. It was a short drive, which he was surprised by, and the building seemed quaint; red brick with large windows that sat on what looked like either a second or third floor.

He parked his bike right near what he assumed was the main door, pulling off his motorcycle helmet before knocking and waiting.

The last thing Leon was expecting was you to unlock and open that door; young and pretty, so pretty...

"Mr. Kennedy?" You asked, eyebrows raised slightly with a small smile. He nodded, just barely noticeable, reaching a gloved hand up to wipe at his eyes as he caught himself staring.

Your smile only widened at his nod, stepping aside to allow him into walk in. It took him a minute to realize you were still talking, shaking his head out to refocus himself.

"-again, really, no need to worry about being late. I was trying to work with your schedule but I should've known it's changed up a bit by now, right?" You lead him up a set of narrow stairs, though he was mostly following the smell of your perfume. It was such a light smell but he definitely picked up on it.

You opened a door immediately to the left of the stairs, letting Leon follow you inside. The sun was just starting to rise, shining through the large windows in the open room.

The place was cluttered, yet organized. Crowded, but that just made it all the cozier to Leon. His house was bare and lacked any sort of personality, but this... this place was covered in you.

"I'm glad you like it in here." You said in a quiet voice, looking up at him as he took in your workspace. He was smiling ever so slightly, which you mimicked with a smile of your own. "I try to make it welcoming in here, my apartment is the same way.."

Your voice trailed off as you walked over to a mostly put together set up near the back of the room where the only wall without windows sat. There was a chair sitting close to the wall, the same chair Chris was sitting in for his portrait with Claire, along with your easel sitting empty a few feet away.

Leon stood frozen, only moving his head around as he took everything in. He followed you with his eyes as you fumbled around with something, eventually producing a blank 24" x 36" canvas that was still wrapped in thin plastic.

His mouth made an 'o' shape as he pulled himself from his small trance once again, beginning to slowly make his way over to the set up you've made. He placed his helmet down on the floor beside the chair.

After placing the canvas on the easel, you walked back over to where you'd gotten the canvas from before grabbing a heavily used sketchbook. It was a large one, the paper a light brown instead of white.

Leon had only just realized that there was a faint sound of some form of classical music playing from somewhere in the room, glancing around for speakers before looking back over at you.

"I'm not getting started today, we're a couple steps away from that, so don't worry about appearance just yet." You said softly with a breathy laugh, quickly making your way back over to where he stood next to the plush chair in your setup, his hand feeling over the worn maroon fabric.

Leon nodded silently, moving to sit down once you requested he did, furrowing his eyebrows as he watched you drag over a small table. You worked fast, that's for sure.

Eventually, you'd set up a little tabletop easel to sit on the table you'd dragged in front of him, grabbing your swivel chair to sit in as you placed your sketchbook on the easel, open to a blank page.

"I just need to get some basic ideas of your facial structure since that's most important when it comes to these kinds of paintings. You're gonna be wearing a nice tuxedo when I do the second- no, third sketch for the final painting, but this is just for me to get a feel for you and vise versa." You rambled quickly, pulling out a pencil from one of your pockets before fully sitting down on the chair, bringing your legs up to sit criss cross.

"Uh.. Alright..." Leon responded, clearing his throat a bit. He didn't really understand what you'd said, you spoke a little too fast for his tired brain to keep up, but it seemed like whatever you were doing was necessary so he just rolled with it.

He was left a little speechless again at how you just began sketching, glancing up to his face and down to the page you were working on over and over. "...do you need me to, I don't know, pose or something?"

The way you kept looking at him was making feel a little uneasy. Granted he's never been in this sort of situation before, this whole process was very unfamiliar to him.

"No, no. You can move your head around and stuff. Get comfortable." You waved off, eyes wrinkling as you smiled at him. Leon nodded again, deciding to take the opportunity to look around your workspace again.

It really was a cozy space. Full of color and life, even the curtains you had lining the windows offered so much pattern and detail to the room. The back of the room where the two of you sat was more cluttered with less decor, but the front of the room was a whole different story with those massive floor pillows, blankets of all sorts strewn about, that big fluffy looking area rug, it was all so... homey. It was even inspiring him to decorate his own house a bit.

The sound of your pencil scribbling on paper and the faint sound of the classical music playing was all Leon could hear for awhile, eventually letting out an anxious sigh before beginning to talk. "So... a painter, huh..?"

"Oh yeah, I've been doing this since I was little. Obviously I wasn't that good back then, but I really improved after high school." You immediately responded, voice a little louder than his. Clearly the topic excites you. "If you want, I can hand you one of my other sketchbooks to look at while I do my thing over here?"

Leon patted his hands against the arms of the chair before nodding to the side, pursing his lips slightly. "Mm, sure. Let's see what ya got.."

As soon as he agreed, you stood up and shuffled over to the corner of the room where some desks sat arranged in a makeshift cubicle. You opened a drawer and pulled out a couple sketchbooks, still as raggedy as the one you were using now.

Walking back over, you carefully handed them to him, which he slowly took after meeting your eyes for a brief moment.

Once you made your way back to your chair, he placed both sketchbooks into his lap, opening up the one on top first. The man flipped through them silently as you began to sketch him out again.

You'd zoned into your work, adding just a bit of shading to your sketches to help emphasis some features when Leon cleared his throat again. You leaned to the side to look at him, your smile quickly returning when you saw his baffled expression.

"These are... wow, okay, how old are you?" Leon asked, head jerking upwards to meet your gaze once more. You just giggled in response, using the pencil as a fidget before returning to sketching.

"Sorry-uh, I don't mean to come off as rude or anything, but to be honest, I was expecting you to be some old lady when I saw the portraits you've done." Leon was quick to try and explain, probably misinterpreting your lack of response for unease.

Your giggle turned to a small laugh, leaning to the side once more to look at the man. "Well, I'm glad I could surprise you a bit. Hopefully I don't look old."

Leon groaned and wiped his hand down his face. "Again, sorry. Didn't mean to imply." He shook his head and looked back down at the two sketchbooks sitting in his lap, continuing to flip through them.

It was only a couple hours until you decided you got a good enough feel for drawing his face. Grabbing the sketchbook, you stood up, pencil still in hand, looking down at the sketches you made as you slowly walked over to him.

The man noticed you standing up, quickly moving to close the sketchbooks you'd given him in favor of seeing your new sketches.

"I... I think this'll be enough today. I don't want to keep you too long." You said, handing him the sketchbook. Leon took it from you, careful not to smudge anything as he finally got to see what you've been doing for the past two hours.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he studied the sketches you'd made of his face, seeing all the different angles, even the smile, how'd you get his smile?

You seemed to grow nervous the longer he stared at your sketchbook in silence, his intense look making it seem as if he didn't really like them. "Are they... Are they okay?"

Leon jostled the sketchbook a bit in his hands before standing up, now towering over you as he kept his eyes on the paper. "Just okay? These are beyond amazing."

You let out a small breath you didn't notice you were holding, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smiled at his compliment. "Oh, thank you.. I'm sorry, normally sketches don't take this long but it was stressed to me that your portrait was very important so I wanted to get everything as perfect as I could.."

"Seriously, you're a mad woman if you think these wouldn't be good." Leon chuckled, handing the sketchbook back to you. He kept his eyes trained on you, even after you turned to look down and close the sketchbook. Only a fool would miss that blush on your cheeks, it looked good on you.

"Anyways, when should I come back for the next.. uh..." Leon paused, crossing his arms loosely as he struggled to think of the word.

Luckily, you finished the sentence for him. "Session. Again, this painting's importance was stressed to me a lot, so probably the next time you're available?" You talked while you shifted the small table back to where it had originally sat under one of the numerous windows, tossing the sketchbook down on the chair cushion.

"Alright, since it's importance has now been stressed to me as well, I can probably clear up some stuff in my schedule. How's tomorrow sound?" Obviously, Leon had a completely free schedule, but you didn't need to know that.

"Tomorrow works great! The sooner the better!" You laughed, placing a gentle hand on his bicep as you walked past him to grab a sticky note. "I'll give you my personal number, just let me know when you're thinking of coming over and I'll meet you here, okay?"

Leon looked at your number before pocketing the note, nodding his head with a smile of his own. "Sounds good. Same way out?" He pointed to the door that you brought him in through, bending down to pick up his motorcycle helmet right after.

You confirmed with a thumbs up, now drinking water from your water bottle as you'd forgotten too while focused on drawing. You felt bad for not offering him any water while he was here, but you won't forget next time.

The man gave you a curt wave before leaving the room, quietly shutting the door behind himself.

You had to admit, you've worked with a very small handful of agents since it takes a lot for them to earn their own portrait, but Leon Kennedy had to be the one of the most handsome men you've ever worked with. Maybe even one of the most handsome men you've ever seen.

Lucky you pay attention to detail, cause you definitely didn't see a ring on his finger.

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jakesgoodgirl · 3 months

Text

꣑୧ licking sunghoon veins - mdni

you were waiting for sunghoon to come over after his late dance practice, you already done w your night routine, shower done n dinner eaten. sunghoon always comes already feed n cleaned as he wants to spend his entire time for and with you when he comes n not on mundane chores. so as he arrives, he would take off his outside clothes n comes straight to find u in bed, i've missed you princess, he would tiredly say, as he climbs under the blanket. how was practice ? youd asked making him sleepy smile, im so tired, baby, he'd reply, his hands encircling you in a hug, is it okay if we just fall asleep baby ? youll tell me bout your day for breakfast, okay ? he would then add, kissing the top of you head. but as he tells you so, you saw his veiny hands, strocking affectionly your arm skin, slowly turning you on. as he slowly falls asleep, his rubs slowing, you couldn't stop but thinking about his veins full on display. hoonie ? lemme take care of you, you softly whisper as you move away from his grip, straddling his lap, wanting nothing more than to please him. he would just open his eyes, trusting you his whole soul, but still wanting see what you're plotting.

your lips wrapped around his finger, your tongue twirling around his tips, n his tiredness due to the dance practice, made everything feels overwhelming to him he could only close his eyes again, his breath deepening. as you slowly go up, licking his biceps, he'd relax further more and whimper fuck keep going, accepting his sweet fate. as you'd take off his tank top, he'd bring one arm over his face, getting comfortable as he thinks you'd suck him off, but you aren't done w his pretty veins yet. his chest n abs were all soon scared with your bites and saliva, while his dick remain untouched making him buck his hips, in the air, asking for attention. stay patient, sunghoonie, you'd tell him as you're done kissing his v line. please, princess, hed unlikely start to beg.

after taking his sweatpants n boxer off, his dick already hard, you can't help but stare at the full on display veins, that made you like this in the first place. it's not everyday you're in charge, and as he is clearly too tired to do anything, you can have your fun and tease him by only licking up the veins, ignoring his tip. so as you kitty lick his veins, his whimpers would get loud with lots of please y/n or fuck baby, his hips bucking in your hand, precum coming out of his tip. he would lose it when you only kitty lick his tip, forcing your head down as he bucks his hips making you gag, yeaah just like that. he'd keep his hand on your hand, but just resting, liking your dominant side a little. he'd like it so much, he would cum fast, n unannounced, him too tired to form words only hmms n aaaah coming out of his mouth.

notes : i never write anyone else but jake, but i love my @pockettwinzz bby so >< this is literally my first smut ever i'm shitting my pants >___<

#sunghoon smut #sunghoon #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #enhypen smut #kpop smut #smut sunghoon #sunghoon suggestive

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miyacults · 8 months

Note

begging on my hands and knees for a sequel to the daddy gojo fic but w sugu please please please

a/n: my dear nonnie this is less than u actually deserve but i hope it fuels the stsg daddy agenda im pushing here.

violet, blue, green, red to keep me out… i win.

( ft. suguru geto. )

Suguru’s nowhere near salvation—soul too damned to expect something else—yet his heart aches, breaks, and cries blood at the mere thought of not deserving you. He might have made a path down the cursed side of being a Sorcerer with Satoru next to him, making the best of his efforts on keeping you away from that devilish facade of his you haven’t seen yet, and although he’s the one to blame when you finally do, well—he can’t hide anymore. That’s the price that comes with being one of the Strongests.

< part one.

wc: 3k (proofread? probably not)

cw: [ 18+ explicit content minors dni ] technically this is part two of a gojo fic (linked above) but can be read individually so no biggie. fem reader (female bodied). teacher!suguru meaning he did not deflect here okay, we’re living a happy life away from the pain. first one was gojo action so this is for geto action only but poly satosugu is clearly implied, that’s the whole point of this basically hehe. daddy kink and daddy dynamic so be very careful! minimal to no prep. unprotected sex. p in v sex. mentions of blood. mentions of death. these two pamper reader too much so reader’s a little spoiled but in the good way. geto is a sweet pretty much. if i forgot anything to put here lemme know. enjoy! <3~

From time to time, Suguru wonders about his soul in genuine distress. Perhaps out of guilt and worry and only in moments like these—well past midnight with bloodied nuckles and heavy footsteps echoing through thin walls, dragging himself up the stairs of the palatial home he and Satoru bought together, with nothing but a familiar sense of anxiety building in his chest. But it’s not like his personal cup of remorse is filled with all the haunting thoughts of the bad things he has done and seen in his life thanks to his sinister line of work, or as if such awful thoughts could actually pull some strings within his untainted heart—because that’s far from being the case.

It’s just—it’s just who he is. The blessing and the curse of being a Sorcerer, of swallowing venom as a whole to save the lives of those who live an ignorant bliss.

White marble stains in scarlet as he approaches his bedroom in silence, mind reflecting on the fact that things should be good now, that everything’s fine and danger has been erased. Any man in love would have handled the situation in the exact way he did, wouldn’t they? He wonders about this, too, quite frequently, and he hates to admit that the question lingers on his brain for far too long for his own liking. It makes him dread the fact that he’s not doing a good job in taking care of you.

Yet it doesn’t matter, as Suguru already knows the answer better than anyone—and he doesn’t qualify much for the kind-hearted-person term (or so he’s been thinking since the last blossom of his youth and the tragedies that showered his naive teen years catches him off guard). But he really doesn’t want to either, because then that would mean that he can’t successfully protect the thing he cares about the most in the world. And he can’t let that happen.

But the look Satoru shoots at him as soon as he opens his bedroom door and finds him sitting comfortably in the wide couch—awaiting his return, as usual—has him breathing correctly again, mind turning back from unwanted ideas that bother him to no end.

“You got busy tonight, huh,” Satoru murmurs quietly, head lolling to the side while scanning his best friend’s tired figure.

“I took care of the scum,”

“And didn’t invite?”

Suguru’s lips turn into a devious smirk, heavy body finally falling between the many soft pillows his large bed has.

“Princess was so upset, needed you to stay by her side,” he resolves quite calmly, dried blood forcing a horrid contrast to his charming features. “If I’m not there to hold her, then you must,”

There’s a silent warning to his words, and Satoru doesn’t have to make an effort to catch it immediately. He already knows it by heart, he always has—he always will.

“She couldn’t stop crying for over an hour anyway,” he ends up retorting sharply instead, hoarse voice weighing a tone of suppressed anger. “Hope you gave the bastard a merciless death,”

How couldn’t he after what he did to you?

The day had started quiet, tranquil—the week itself abnormally peaceful for them. Maybe it was the fleeing summer coercing the unpleasant job of Sorcerers into days of calm, long work hours slowing down and making them believe they couldn’t relax a little bit. So they decided that it would be a good idea to take you to that new coffee shop in Shinjuku you were dying to go lately. And it was fine, of course, you were incredible happy to be outside the walls of home as you hold hands with both them in a sea of smiley people.

Until it wasn’t.

That desolated look on your face when you found yourself trapped into the arms of some Curse User seeking vengeance towards them—Suguru memorized it, because it caused him some undescribable pain he couldn’t possibly explain even if he tried to. His heart shattered into a million tiny pieces at the sight of gleaming tears drying in your cheeks and the sound of broken sobs, garbled whimpers of their names coming out of parted lips as you held onto nothing for balance, unable to stop yourself from breaking down at the fear, the horror, the trepidation it forced your body into a shock.

He couldn’t prevent what happened after they took you back and he tried to calm you down by placing you in Satoru’s lap, hurriedly murmuring something about making it right. It’s gonna be okay, princess, you’re gonna be okay. He won’t hurt you ever again. I’m here to protect you.

Maybe—just maybe—you heard the strained tone that bathed his words in that moment. And maybe you didn’t understand it right away, or maybe you didn’t want to.

Because Suguru has always been there to make things right, and nothing else has to matter when he and Satoru are there to protect you from the dangers of the world.

Like they have devoted themselves to do.

Suguru doesn’t remember the exact time you came into his life—he doesn’t really care to, because he knows you’ve pretty much always been there. He has no idea where do his memories begin or end at, but the teary-doe look of your face has been plaguing the tissues of his brain for so long now he can’t find himself to remember a time where it hasn’t been there.

He remembers his first day at Jujutsu High, during the spring of him being fifteen and you a little less than that, when he saw you adverting everyone’s gaze as you walked behind your mother (an assistant director, of all things) towards the offices in silence—floral dress wrinkly as you seated in some chair and patiently waited for your mom to finish off her work. No complaints but with a huge pout, bored to death.

He remembers the first time Satoru made you cry by telling you you were a weak nuisance (and how he shortly laughed at that), and he remembers the sickening feeling of nausea that infected his stomach shortly after—and he remembers how it didn’t disappeared until he handed you a beverage from the machines and you smiled at him like none of them ever harmed you in the first place.

He remembers you admiring your mother’s ivory dress the day she married principal Yaga, and he remembers the way he took your hand into his to give you a little bit of courage as you and Satoru walked down the aisle side by side, carrying the rings of the newlyweds.

He remembers the winter of Satoru’s eighteenth birthday, when the white-haired man accidentally dropped a box full of the school’s Christmas decorations over you, making you trip down the stairs and hurt your ankle. He remembers the tears that stained his posh pajama pants when you shouted at him—immediately, instantly—crying out his name and seeking comfort. He also remembers the way Satoru moved around you like a lighting bolt, reaching and lifting you up in his arms before Suguru could arrive. Soothing sweet words into your ear, kissing your cheek as he darted a glare in his direction.

He remembers that they both shared the same thought at that moment, even though it was never vocalized.

He remembers how you have always made him feel this sick—as if you’re infesting his body and refusing to let him cure himself off you at all. He remembers because the feeling doesn’t really stops, never has, probably never will, and he has now grow a little too familiar with the lingering explosion of things that do make him feel alive bubbling in his chest. He’s now used to you setting his soul on fire and making him sick.

But it’s special, nonetheless. A sugary sweet method of inflicting pain—as Satoru likes to say.

Because Suguru Geto is not exactly a good person by his own perspective—but he likes to believe he’s a good man to both you and Satoru, for selfish that could be. The kind of man that puts your safety and well-being on top of anything else, the one that ensures both of your happiness above his own. He’s the type of man that allows some of his darkest desires to die in a fire, following what he believes is the right thing to do.

“Sugu?”

He can hear it clearly, so vivid and bright and sweet it makes him terribly sick all of a sudden. Singsong and gently voice, coated in saccharine sugar echoing through his ears as the most enthralling tone wraps around his name like a prayer, the deliberately long uttering of ‘Sugu’ forcing the curves of his lips to fall abruptly, his heart stopping without notice and an invisible punch to the guts knocking all the air out of his lungs.

“‘Toru, Daddy, where are you?”

Suguru waits—pretends he doesn’t really care as your footsteps sound closer, closer, closer, and his posture maintains, seemingly calm, apparently unbothered, somewhat bored. But, oh, Satoru knows.

Satoru knows as he sits by his side on the obsidian sectional sofa, with legs crossed and arms splayed over the border, that his best friend’s mind is going on a haze, a brand new sense of anxiety crawling under his skin like a thousand bugs eating him alive. Satoru’s almost certain, he’s sure that if he gets a little closer, the violent sounds of Suguru’s heart pounding in alarming violence against his ribs would cause him physical pain. It puts him on edge; the mere thought of his best friend’s reaction at what’s about to happen now.

If it were him, he wouldn’t care. He hadn’t care in the past, actually. Satoru has always been more than happy to let you near the side of him that glows closer to hell than heaven itself.

But Suguru is different, he thinks.

“She’s supposed to be sleeping,” Suguru stares at him blankly, a hint of irritation in his voice. “It’s long past midnight, and she gets all cranky in the morning every time she stays up,”

“She was sleeping,” Satoru stands up, a sigh sliding past his lips while moving to the bedroom door. “But you already know how she gets if she wakes up for water and is all alone in bed. She gets all needy,”

Suguru raises an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that, huh?”

“It’s not polite to finger-point, Suguru.”

Both of them stay silent for a bit, carefully paying attention to your sounds. Suguru tuts his tongue when he hears you calling his name near the bathroom hall.

“I’m too bloodied for her to see me like this,”

“Clearly. Just stay there, lemme—,” Satoru scoffs, opening the door and then closing it behind him swiftly before you can catch a glimpse of the inside. “Oi, sweets, what do you think you’re doing out of bed?”

“But ‘Toru,” you complain in a hushed whine. “You left me alone, you know I don’t like that. It didn’t felt warm anymore,”

Suguru can’t see you—all he has is a muffled sound of your distorted voice, and he swears he knows exactly the way your lips are pushing the loveliest pout to ever exist, the way you’re looking at Satoru through sleepy eyelashes as you put your little complaint out.

And he also knows Satoru might have rolled his eyes playfully at the sight, pulling you closer to steal a kiss from your frowned lips.

“So needy, my baby is so needy,”

“Is Suguru not home yet?” you ask slowly, perhaps setting your groggy eyes into Satoru, staring at him with that enamored look they both know too well.

“Do you want Daddy?”

“Yeah, I do,” you snort.

“I’m your Daddy and I’m home, so,”

“I want both,” you giggle softly, so sweetly Suguru can feel his insides melt at the sound of your bubbling laugh.

He’s sure Satoru has you entangled in a hug, probably sneaking his hands all over your body and tickling your sides to pull a smile.

“Oh, your dumb Daddy, too. Alright. I dunno where he is, sweets,” Satoru states, as if.

“How mean, ‘Toru.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Mean. You’re lying to me.”

Suguru smirks at that. He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door to open it and find you both in the exact position he predicted.

And the look you shoot his way, the frown that forms in your face and your pretty features contract in sudden worry when his frame appears in front of you—it all has his heart pounding like crazy, he feels so loved, he feels so full of you. He feels insatiable.

“Oh,” you let out a little squeal as you shift from Satoru’s embrace and into his, “Sugu, you—”

“Don’t worry much about this, princess,” he mumbles, catching you inside his arms like the world depends on it. “I’m okay.”

But he’s sure you’re crying anyway.

And you don’t even stop to think about the blood. You don’t even care that he reeks of death and violence and Curses as you hold onto him for dear life, with arms that wrap tightly around him and pull him closer, closer, even closer; as lips caress the skin of his neck and little mewls echoe softly against his throat. Pants of I love you, I don’t want anything bad happening to you, I love you, fueling his mind like a bomb ready to launch.

Satoru laughs it off with a devious smile.

“Poor baby, you have her worried sick, Suguru,” he falsely chides. “Guess you gotta make it up to her.”

“Uh-huh,” Suguru nods. “My poor princess, do you want Daddy to make it alright?”

You nod in between heavy breaths, head still buried in his neck. Satoru gives a soft slap to your ass whimsically.

“So needy,” the Strongest murmurs, but he rapidly turns away and aims for the stairs. “I’m gonna go find a snack though, I’m starving. And then I’m gonna prepare a bath so you both can meet me there in a bit,”

Suguru nods.

“Go on. Let me take this princess to bed in the mean time, then we meet you in the bathtub,”

Suguru takes you to his large bed and places you in the middle of many soft pillows cooing in your ear to wash the concern out of you, but you’re reluctant. You cup his face and scan him looking for wounds, soon realizing the ugly streaks of scarlet that stain his face are, in fact, not his. But even then you don’t flinch. Instead, you let your hands wander all over his chest—desperate to pull him into you, to merge your bodies and never letting him go, never separated.

“Oh?” Suguru smiles at your scattered words. There’s still blinks of sleep tugging at your tired eyes, and he can’t help but fondle your face cautiously. “Are we merging with Satoru too, hm?”

You nod, sulky little look fighting sleepiness with all you got.

“Of course, Daddy, always with ‘Toru,”

“That’s right, princess. Always with Satoru,”

You inhale a deep breath. It’s easy for Suguru to notice every little thing about you, so he caught up on your train of thoughts before yourself. You were struggling with some words, biting your lip, eyelashes fluttering, thinking hard about something.

“What is it, baby?” He wonders carefully, hot breath colliding with your face, nose caressing the soft skin of your cheeks as he inhales your scent.

“Did you do a bad thing, Sugu?”

The question lingers on his brain for a few seconds, mind resisting on reflecting such thoughts. Yet his expression doesn’t change, he maintains serenity as the brush of skin above yours doesn’t stop. He holds you like a priced possession, like your mere existence could ever absolve the decaying all Sorcerers are damned to. Like you could kiss him and save him, like you could hug him and guard him—as if you could turn blood into holy water or death into salvation.

Maybe you can.

“Will you still love me if I did?” He asks, not dreading the answer.

“I will never stop loving you, Daddy,”

It ignites his body. Fire burns at his fists and he kisses you deeply, mouths meeting around a new heat, with tongues slipping and teeth clashing desperately. He has no intention of letting you catch a break, mouth falling to your neck where he bites at the sensitive skin and causes you to mewl.

“Ow, Suguru, that’s mean,” you grumble, but you part your bare legs anyway when his hands drop and brush at your thighs.

“Can’t help it, princess,” he press a chaste kiss to your lips once more. “You gonna let me play a little with this pretty pussy, yeah?” The words flee his throat in a raspy tone, and his hands don’t stop. He hikes up that oversized cashmere sweater, that can only belong to Satoru, barely above the line of your lacey black panties, enough for him graze it and get a glimpse of your puffy lips against the fabric, awaiting for him. Suguru traces a finger along your cunt, causing you to shiver at the cold digits. “How gorgeous,”

You pant. “But—The bath, Sugu,”

“He can wait a little,” he says into your mouth “Gonna make you feel really good, princess,” he breathes heavily, rocking his hip a little as a thumb strikes tenderly your cunt through your panties.

And he notices right away—in the way you shiver under his touch when he hovers completely above you, how a breathless sigh escapes past your parted lips and your fists grab a handful of his shoulders to attach yourself onto him and make his bulge nudge your cunt. He repeats the motion a few times, mouth leaving stray kisses in your neck and already throbbing cock humping your covered pussy through his pants.

“Sugu,” you whine at one particularly hard thrust of his hips, involuntary loud moan reverberating from the back of your throat. “‘Toru,”

“Shh, princess,”

Suguru is fast at parting your panties to the side, and he says there’s no need for prepping you tonight, says it’s gonna be real quick so you can both go back to Satoru—with his cock an angry shade of red as its released free from his trousers and it aims for your tiny hole fast, thrusting in one go. You’re whimpering at how fast it happens, cunt burning at the sudden intrusion since he is usually the one that takes his time to properly prep you to take his cock.

You guess he’s feeling off, so you happily comply if that’ll help him.

“Want you, Sugu, I need you,”

“Ah-ah, my good girl,” he grunts lightly, hands steadying you by the ass as he finally bottoms out. “Can you keep doing that for me? Can you be a good girl?”

A loud hiss vibrates through clenched teeth as you wrap your legs around his hips, head nodding many forms of yes as you inch closer to him in distress.

“That’s it baby, take it pretty,”

“H-Hurts a little, Sugu,” you murmur softly, eyes glued to where he’s slowly sliding in and out.

“I know princess,” he pants. “Give it a minute,” He’s practically caging you shortly after, thrusting up roughly as stretched out walls wrap him and suck him deeply. You’re not given a chance to recover or adjust properly, but the burning does start to fade away. Discomfort grows into pleasure and whimpers turn into soft moans as you bury your face on his neck and his hot breath collides sharply against the shell of your ear. “You’re so brave, my good girl. So pretty, my princess,”

You lift your hips to meet his thrusts, dainty fingers digging the flesh of his shoulders when he grunts. And it doesn’t take long for tears to collect in your eyes as heat floods your body once again, the familiar throb of your clit making you aggravate the hump of your hips so your swollen bud finds a little bit of friction. Suguru doesn’t fail to turn you into a needy mess, strong hand coming to cover the cries emitting from your mouth.

Muffled chants of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, alongside his hoarse grunts and the lewd slap of skin against skin are the only sounds that fly the room when he cums—bruising fingers grasping your flesh harshly as he paints your walls white, and nearly immediately you’re creaming all over the tip of his sensitive cock firmly pressed against your cervix.

“Not leaving you baby,” he pants out. “Not leaving you at all.”

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bruhstories · 2 years

Text

change

summary: you and eren have been friends since forever. you also loved eren since forever. but eren is always bored, until he finally finds something worth changing for pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader, mentioned eren x mikasa w/c: 4.6k warnings & content: toxic!eren (for the most part. man's got a god complex, okay?), female bodied reader, weed smoking, fingering, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected p in v sex, angst, fluff

a/n: not me coming back from the dead with this rubbish but hey, beats not writing at all i suppose

"I'm bored."

Eren laid on his back, one hand under his head, the other holding the meticulously rolled spliff.

"Do you wanna play a video game?" You suggested, watching him blow rings of smoke. "I can beat you at Mortal Kombat again."

He snorted at your audacity before passing you the joint.

"I mean I'm bored of my life. Nothing exciting ever happens." Eren sighed. He was tired of the same routine of waking up, checking Tinder, going to work, hooking up with some random girl, going to bed — rinse and repeat.

You liked routine. You flourished when you had a routine. Not that you were bothered by the occasional spontaneity, but routine could very well be your middle name.

"Change something, then. Change your job. Or even better, get a girlfriend." Your tone wasn't pleasant.

"Who's gonna split the rent with you, then?" He sat up, taking the spliff from your fingers.

"Hey, I wasn't done-"

"You snooze, you lose, babe." Eren took one long drag before exhaling the smoke into your face.

Babe.

You hated when he used pet names on you. It gave you a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he liked you back. But that was impossible. Eren didn't do relationships, he fucked. You knew that damn well when you could hear him through the walls of your flat almost every night. You felt bad for every single girl who thought they could change him. But you knew him better. You knew he would never change.

"I told you to not call me that." You leaned forward to take your spliff back, but Eren put his hand up. "Really, are you going to be a child now?" You pressed a hand on his knee to reach his fingers.

"You didn't earn it." He shrugged, pushing you back.

"I rolled it, fuckface! Give it back!" You struggled, but Eren was bigger and stronger.

"Fine." He smacked your hands out of his way and gripped your chin, fingers digging into your skin. "Open up."

Even if you tried to keep your mouth closed, the force of his fingers parted your lips open. You could feel your cheeks heating up when Eren took a drag and blew the thick smoke into your mouth, his lips merely inches away from yours.

You hated him. No, you hated how he made you feel, how insignificant you were compared to him.

Despite always barking back at him, always getting into arguments, always beating him at Mortal Kombat, the reality was that you always gave in. If Eren told you to strip, you would. If Eren told you to suck his cock, you would. If Eren told you to jump off a cliff, you would. Not because he forced or manipulated you, but because you wanted to.

You were willing to give him everything, and he would take it all.

"Good girl." Eren sneered at your attempt to hide your face. It amused him.

"Fuck off, yeah?"

"You know what would make my life less boring?" He clicked his tongue.

"Enlighten me." You rolled your eyes.

"Fucking you."

Your lips parted but no sounds came out of your mouth. Those were words you wanted to hear since you were a teenager, since you first realised you liked him. Since you were 15. Ten years ago.

And the urge to surrender was growing stronger than your will to be dignified and respectable. Much stronger.

"Eren, stop fucking about." You decided not to play his game. "Just because you're bored doesn't mean you have the right to, what, fuck me? Grow up, you're 25."

There, you told him off. Surely he would be mature enough to understand and respect your wishes. Only, you didn't give him a definitive no. And if Eren couldn't get what he wanted, he would take it.

His fingers ghosted over your shoulder, tugging at the strap of your tank top. You could've smacked his hand away, could've left the room. But you didn't, because you wanted him to convince you. You wanted to make him work for you, to earn you.

Eren didn't say anything, just toyed with the strap, lowering it down your arm. Bad time to not wear a bra, because from the way you were sat, he could perfectly watch the way your nipples protrude through the thin fabric of your top.

You couldn't lie to yourself — you never wore a bra around Eren, unless you had just come from work. Desperation was written all over your face, every day, every minute of your miserable life, and living with him did not make things any better, it only made them worse. The only two reasons you agreed to be roommates were simple — you were poor and you were in love. You needed someone to split bills and rent with, and you hoped that living with Eren would make him have an epiphany about how much he loved you and wanted to be with you.

Boy, were you wrong.

Yet when he tugged at your strap harder, hooked his index finger and pulled it all down, you did not protest. You did, however, in one final attempt to maintain your dignity, cross your hands over your chest to cover your bare breasts.

He smiled — no, he sneered at how pathetic you were, because if there was one entertaining thing in Eren's boring life, it was how much you tried to fight your feelings for him.

As if he didn't know. As if you thought he didn't know.

"Have you always been this cute?" His words disrupted your embarrassment, but you knew how foul he was, telling you what you wanted to hear.

"Eren…" You trailed off, still covering your chest, still hiding your face. "Don't. Don't play with me. Don't say things you know will… hurt me."

"Hurt you?" He cocked a brow at you, almost convincing you that he was confused. "But, I'm giving you what you want, and you'll be giving me what I want."

The sudden realisation that Eren knew all this time how in love you were with him had you burst into tears. Not hysterical crying, heavy breathing or loud sobs, no. Just tear after tear after tear, rolling down your cheeks, down your lips, down your chin, as you cried with no noise.

He felt bad. He really did.

It's not that he didn't care about you, God, no. Eren loved you — in his own way. He wasn't the type of man to hold your hand, kiss your forehead, cuddle you at night. But he showed his love in other ways — he took days off when you were sick, drove you anywhere and everywhere you wanted, ordered food almost every day. You always assumed he did that because you were friends, because you went way back.

"I didn't mean to make you cry." His thumb grazed over your bottom lip. "Cross my heart and hope to die." Eren told you when he saw the condescending look on your face.

"For how long have you known?" You turned your head away and pulled your top back up.

He clicked his tongue. Eren wasn't in the mood to talk, he was in the mood to fuck. But you were not about to give yourself to him just yet.

"Long enough." He stubbed whatever was left of the spliff and pulled his legs under him in a lotus position.

"Jesus Christ. And you enjoyed every bit of it, didn't you?" Venom dripped down your tongue. You watched him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. "You thrived on watching me be a fool. For fuck's sake, you moved in with me!"

"It's not like that." His voice was calm, but you could see him getting angry.

He'd changed. When he was a teenager he would show how angry he was. Everyone had to know Eren was fuming. But now? Now he was just calm, quietly imagining how he'd rip someone's heart out and eat it.

"It's not like that." You repeated, tone mocking him. "Pray tell, then, Eren, how it is. Because frankly I'm getting tired."

He rolled his eyes at you, and that only irked you more. You wanted to scream at him, to slap him, to make him understand just how much you wanted him.

"We both know why I didn't say anything, Y/N."

Oh.

Of course.

How could you be so stupid to think he ever reciprocated your feelings?

Silly you.

"Wow, I- no. This has to end." You punched the nearest wall, knuckles cracking at the impact. "Fuck!"

"Are you hurt-"

"Fuck you. I really thought I could get over it, you know? But it's been ten years! Ten years of my life wasted because I love you!" Your eyes widened and you brought a hand over your mouth.

Never have you imagined this was how you'd confess your feelings.

You always thought it would be when Eren would be vulnerable, or perhaps when he would've realised he liked you. But not like this. Never like this.

"Oh, say it again." He closed his eyes and bit his lower lip.

You couldn't tell if he was being serious or not, so when he opened his eyes, all he could see was you, angry, upset, confused.

Eren got up and closed the distance between the two of you. His lips touched your knuckles, his hand holding yours.

"Say it again." He urged you, his emerald eyes burning holes into your own pupils.

"I… love you." Your voice was dying with each syllable, and you could feel your eyes getting wet with tears once more.

"Again."

"Eren…"

"Please." He pulled you by the waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking in your scent.

There were plenty of mixed signals coming from him, and he was a walking red flag. But you couldn't hold back, not anymore.

"I love you."

Eren wasn't bored of his life. Those three words made him realise that. He didn't need something exciting to happen, no. He needed someone who would dedicate their heart to him. He needed you.

"I don't think I could get tired of hearing this." His breath tickled your skin.

"Eren, please, I can't do this. Not when you don't even like me back." You tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip around your waist.

"Oh, I like you. Just not how you expect me to." Eren pulled back enough to look into your eyes. "I'm not gonna take you on dates. I'm not gonna buy you flowers. I'm not gonna hold the door open for you." He admitted.

"That's… alright." It wasn't.

But if it meant you got to have a small piece of him, you were willing to ruin the rest of your life for him.

His hand slid under your top, but you were too far gone to protest.

Once you confessed your feelings, you were his.

Your feet followed Eren as he dragged you to the bed. He sat you down, or better yet, he pushed you onto the mattress, and as you fell, so did your dignity and principles. Your embarrassment quickly turned into eagerness, because in that moment, you believed you'd never have another opportunity like this, even if it meant ruining your friendship, and potentially, the rest of your life.

Eren hovered over your body, and you tugged the waistband of his gray sweatpants, making him lean closer.

"Can I kiss you?" Your voice was timid and quiet.

"You can do more than that with that pretty mouth of yours." His confidence made your cheeks burn. He always made your body temperature rise, but this felt like a genuine fever dream. A good one.

"Eren!" You squealed at his words, but before you knew it, his lips pressed onto yours, hot and needy. That was the uncontested truth — Eren needed you. Not some random girl who was eager to fuck him because of his undoubtedly good looks, but someone who would worship him like a king, a god. And you did that, in your own special way.

There was a time when Mikasa was like that, obsessed with Eren and eager to please him. But the difference was that, to him, Mikasa was mindless. Like a puppet on a string. She wouldn't contest his wishes, and gave up so easily. And Eren didn't want that. He wanted someone to be by his side because they saw eye to eye. Because you believed in his ideas and in him. Mikasa just wanted him. She didn't give two shits on what Eren thought, she would follow him anyway.

But you were like him. There was passion in your eyes and a fire in your heart, and Eren knew that. You preferred to not show that, giving your friends only optimism and kindness. He knew better. He knew the darkness in your soul. He knew you were the only one who could understand him. It only took him ten years to bring that to the surface.

His mouth was on your neck, kissing, sucking and biting your skin, and your fingers were tangled in his disheveled hair, tugging at it with each wave of electricity running through your veins. Every time he touched you, it felt like you stuck your fingers in a socket.

"Need to feel you." Eren mumbled, one hand traveling down your chest, then your abdomen, sliding under your leggings and panties. "Fuck, you're so wet." He was dumbfounded at the effect he had on your body when his fingers pushed into your sloppy cunt.

For a brief moment, you regretted not being a virgin. You had hoped Eren would be your first, but back when you lost your virginity, you thought he would never want you, so you had a short relationship with some guy who fucked you pretty badly. Since then, you barely had any sex.

His thumb grazed over your swollen clit, and you instinctively arched your back, hitting your forehead against his. Clearly, you lacked experience.

"Ren, I'm sorry-"

"It's alright." He took your hand and guided it to his cock. "You can make up for it."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked away, only for him to squeeze your wrist.

"Look at me."

You nodded, palming his bulge through the fabric of his sweatpants. He relaxed, letting go of your wrist and untying the string of his waistband.

Adrenaline and fear fogged your brain. It all still felt so unreal, and part of you was scared you couldn't take him all. The other part wanted him to ruin you.

Eren pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor, leaving your cunt needy and alone.

"Go on." He urged you after seeing the lust and fear in your eyes. "I know you want it."

You sighed at the lack of gentleness, but you couldn't deny the obvious truth.

Your manicured fingernails snatched the waistband and pulled it down, not caring about foreplay anymore. You've had enough foreplay in the past ten years.

The sight of his cock made your mouth water, like some kind of rabid dog, but you didn't give a shit anymore. You didn't care if he saw you as a piece of meat, a toy or a puppet.

"I-" Words could not come out of your mouth. He was just stunning, with his toned body and his hair falling down his beautiful face. Shit, maybe he was a god.

"Well?" Eren snapped, impatient and irritated at the lack of reaction. You did react, just not like he expected you to.

Curious and confused, you reluctantly shifted your position, bringing your face closer to him. After pondering your next move, you parted your lips open and stuck your tongue out, dragging it up his shaft.

"You can do better." He fisted your hair and pulled your head back. "You will do better, yeah?"

"Yes-" You stopped talking when he pushed his cock into your mouth, effectively forcing you to take as much of his length as possible.

The tears pooling at the corners of your eyes weren't from pain, nor the lack of air, but from pure ecstasy and joy. Finally, you were granted what you were longing for so long.

You worked hard for Eren, hollowing your cheeks and sucking his cock. You didn't think your mouth could produce so much spit, but it did, and it dribbled down your chin, down his shaft, mixed with his delicious precum. Your lips were just so swollen you thought they went numb.

When Eren got tired of watching you struggle to breathe, he pulled your head back, allowing you to inhale as much air as possible. His fingers wrapped around your neck as he bent down to kiss you.

"Shit." He pulled back. "I taste good."

He was so full of himself, so vain and narcissistic that it made you want to hate him. But you couldn't lie to yourself — you loved every bit of him.

"Eren, please." You reminded him that you also needed attention by squeezing his hand.

He looked down on you, as if he were insulted by your audacity to speak.

"What? You want something?" He palmed his cock, slowly stroking it up and down.

You nodded.

"Show me, then."

Another sigh escaped past your lips. You should've known he'd make you work. He wouldn't just give you what you wanted so easily.

Pulling your leggings down and letting them fall off the bed, you gently laid back on the mattress. Eren watched your every move, judging every single gesture, and so far, he seemed pleased. He seemed especially pleased when your hands reached your panties, tugging them and eventually pulling them down. You laid there, half naked and awkward.

"I didn't tell you to stop, did I?" His voice was condescending. "Earn it, you filthy whore." Now he was impatient.

Never had he called you a whore before. You didn't mind it, you just didn't expect it. And you didn't know what to do, either. After a few seconds of silence and deep thinking, you bit your lower lip and spread your legs. Unmoved by your attempt, Eren just kept on pumping his cock, seemingly enjoying himself more.

Fine, you'd try harder.

Your hand slowly traveled up your thigh until it reached your cunt, and your fingers gently rubbed circles against your clit. His eyes didn't leave your body. That was what he wanted, but it was still not enough.

"Ren- oh, please-" Your breath hitched when arched your back. "Need you, please!"

"Need me to what? Say it, otherwise you won't be getting shit from me."

Did he have to humiliate you like that? Was it not enough that you just professed your love to him? Did he have to take everything from you?

The answer was yes, and you knew it all too well.

"Don't wanna say it…" You tried to fight your instincts.

"Is that so? Fuck yourself, then." He was dead serious.

"No, wait!" You sat up, fingernails digging into his arms. "Please!"

Eren tucked your hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with one hand. Despite how tender his gesture was, you knew his words would be cruel.

"Give yourself to me. All of you."

Something snapped inside your brain. He didn't have to tease you for you to want him. He didn't need to kiss you and make you melt. He knew exactly which buttons to push to break his toy.

"Take me, then!" You begged him. "Kiss me, fuck me, kill me if you want!"

Even Eren was shocked to see how much power he had over you. Power he would obviously abuse in the future. Sure, you could have said those things in the heat of the moment, said them to get what you wanted, but it wasn't just sheer lust — you were willing to let Eren ruin you.

You did ask nicely, and how could he not grant your wish?

His dark locks tickled your face when he leaned in to kiss you in what was, perhaps, the most animalistic kiss you've ever had. Oh, and you were putty in his hands, kissing him back, fisting his hair to pull him impossibly closer to you.

With your legs spread open for him, Eren pushed his cock into your needy cunt, and although he tried not to hurt you, he couldn't hide his eagerness to just fuck you already. Inch by inch, you rolled your eyes in both pleasure and pain — it's been a while since you got laid. Your fingernails raked up and down his back, leaving red marks all over his perfect skin, and you could tell he enjoyed it by his guttural growls and grunts.

"God, you're so tight." Eren bottomed out, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Oh, and you adjusted, alright. He filled you up, both physically and emotionally, and no longer was there a void in your heart. He was your missing piece, but you weren't so sure if you were his.

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his back, you looked him in the eyes without a shred of shame.

"Please, Eren, please fuck me! I've waited so long-" You choked on your own words when his hips began to roll painstakingly slowly. But you loved every bit of it, so much so that you sunk your teeth into his shoulder to muffle your moans.

Eren wouldn't have that, of course. He had to hear you. He heard you every night, when you thought you were quietly fucking yourself, it was only natural he wanted to hear you when he was the one balls deep inside of you.

The sound of his name on your lips was divine, like a devout subject praying to her god. Because that was Eren to you — a god.

Your lips were swollen from all his devouring kisses, and you were sure he left a few bruises on your body after how hard he pinched and squeezed the plush of your hips, but you didn't care. You belonged to him, after all.

"Harder, fuck me harder!" You begged him. It's not that you wanted to finish, God no. You wanted this moment to last forever. But you needed to feel him more.

Eren pulled out, despite your request, only to flip you over and thrust back into your cunt. You've never tried that position before with other men. You believed that it was filthy and humiliating to get fucked from behind. And you were right, you felt like nothing but a piece of meat. But it also felt good.

"Hard enough, you little slut?" He whispered into your ear, the words sending chills down your spine. Who knew you would enjoy being called awful names?

"Yes! Fuck, yes!" You arched your back, the sound of the bedframe hitting the wall echoing in your room. Your poor neighbours.

"Has anyone else fucked you like this before?" Eren fisted your hair, pulling your head back.

"N-no!" You cried out, feeling your thighs quiver.

"Good." He let go of your hair, only to bring an arm around your neck, practically holding you in a headlock. "And no one's ever gonna fuck you like this, but me, yeah?"

"Y-you, only you!"

"That's right." He let go of you, instead focusing his hands on your hips. "You're mine."

It was comforting to hear those words, because you knew that was how Eren expressed his feelings — violently.

There was no romance with Eren, only chaos and violence, and you loved him just like that.

Then you felt it — his frantic thrusts, the stuttering pace, his fingers almost ripping the skin off your hips — he was close, and so were you.

"Eren! I'm gonna finish-"

"I know, love."

That was enough to send you over the edge, your walls tightening around his cock, and pleasure engulfing your entire body. Your limbs were numb by the time you reached your climax, and you were too tired to tell him not to finish inside of you. But Eren wasn't an idiot. Despite his violent urges, he didn't want to hurt you. Not emotionally, at least. He pulled out on time, you knew that when you felt something hot and thick on your lower back.

You could hear him walk out of the room and then back in, and in your daze, you tried to prop yourself on your elbows and look up.

"Don't move." Eren told you, and his voice had drastically changed — soft and soothing. "You don't want cum leaking on your bedsheets."

"Need to wash 'em anyway." You groaned, coming down from your high.

"Tomorrow." He said, gently wiping your back with tissues. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." You nodded. "Still bored?" You teased him, but you knew things would go back to normal tomorrow. Eren would go back to Tinder and you would go back to your routine.

"A little." Eren shrugged, and although you should have expected this answer, it still shattered your heart into a million pieces. "You know what would help?"

"What?"

"If you would let me take you out on a date."

You were confused, and understandably so.

"Me?"

"No, the Pope. Go on a nice little date in the Vatican. Yes, you." He chuckled at his own joke.

But you were still confused.

"I thought you didn't do dates." You watched him toss the tissues in the bin and sit back down on your bed.

"Well, it's time for a change." He didn't look at you, instead focusing on one dot on the wall.

"Okay, but why? I mean, why me?"

"Don't, Y/N. Don't make me say it." Eren hoped that if he still stared at that dot, you would leave him alone.

"You made me say a lot of shit tonight, Jaeger. Why me?" You could feel your cheeks heat up again with anger.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, you know why!" He crossed his arms like a child.

"No, I don't."

"Jesus, because I l-" Eren cleared his throat. "I luh-" he choked.

"Oh my God, just say it already!"

"I love you, you crazy fucking bitch!" He threw his hands up in exasperation. "There, I said it, happy?"

You were stunned, absolutely dumbfounded. Love? Eren loved you? How? Since when? There were tons of questions you wanted to ask him, but not a single word came out of your mouth.

The silence was deafening, and you could hear your heart beating in your eardrums. So instead of saying anything, you scooted closer to him, cupping his face and turning his face towards you. Finally, he looked into your eyes, and you beamed at him. There was so much warmth in your smile that it moved him, and for the first time in a very long time, Eren smiled, too.

He pulled you into a soft embrace, his arm around your shoulders, his chin resting on your head.

"Can I sleep with you?" Eren asked.

"Didn't you already do that?" You mocked him with a grin on your lips.

"Alright, fuck you too, then.” He chuckled, planting a kiss on your forehead.

Perhaps you had been wrong all along. Perhaps all of Eren’s arrogance and chaos was just a mask, something to hide how he truly felt. You knew he would never show his vulnerable side, but the fact that tonight he at least tried to do that meant that he could change. And tonight, for the first time, Eren not only felt loved, but he felt the need to show love.

It would take time and patience, but he could change. For you.

#eren jeager #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut

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feelbokkie · 15 days

Text

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 4

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: mention of food/eating, one swear word, some angst

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 4,981

SCREENSH♡T C♡UNT: 15

A/N: sorry for disappearing without a word

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

“So, how does all this work?” You ask from the couch behind the set of chairs Chan and Changbin are currently sitting in, a third one is empty between the two of them.

“Like producing or all of the buttons?” Chan asks, spinning around in the chair to give you all of his attention.

“You can explain the buttons if you want,” You adjust yourself comfortably on the couch, making sure to find a way to sit so you can take notes without hurting your back later. “But I meant producing.”

The three of you are currently sitting in a recording studio that the company rented for the group to use on their last day in Sydney. One of the inclusions that everyone agreed on is a mini CD-R of each member's solo song from the tour, and one rerecorded song for the group version broken up into a special racha version. The boys wanted to get the recording as quickly as they could before they got too tired from touring, which is why you're up at the earliest time you've needed to be so far.

Chan starts to roll up the sleeve of his black hoodie, thinking for a moment. "Well, when Han gets here--"

"If Han gets here. I guarantee you that he's still asleep right now." Changbin whines, his voice still heavy from sleep.

"I'll send a text to the group chat in a second to have one of the other kids swing by his room before they come over." Chan rubs his eyes as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sets it on the table behind him. "We can do the first two songs without him right now I guess."

"They're just the solo songs so we can manage." Changbin yawns. You can't tell if he's telling you or reassuring Chan.

"Yeah, you're right. Anyway," He pulls off his cham and fixes his hair before placing it back on. "Someone will be in the recording booth with headphones that play the backing track while everyone else can hear from the speakers in here. Basically, everyone out here is listening to make sure that the recording goes well. That whoever is in the booth is keeping pitch, or pronouncing everything correctly, and so forth. Or if something doesn't sound right, we can fix it right then and there. It's not always in one go though so sometimes we have to take the best bits of each take and splice them together."

"And then you take the mostly recorded track and do whatever tweaking needs to be done in post?" You question as you write down what Chan explained.

"Exactly! Someone's been doing their homework." Chan claps once loudly in excitement, the sudden noise causes Changbin to jump in his seat.

"I've always been a good student." You smirk to yourself as you look through your questions to ask. "I've watched some of your recording sessions on YouTube. You--"

The door swings open, stealing all of your attention. On the other side, Jisung stands holding four coffees in a carrier in one hand and another, larger iced coffee in the other. He's mostly hidden away in a large beanie that falls just above his eyes, a matching black face mask, an oversized hoodie, and baggy grey cargo pants.

"I know I'm late, but I bought an apology gift." He says, holding up the drink carrier.

"More like a bribe." Chan laughs, turning the seat next to around so that Jisung can sit in it.

"Here you go, noona." Jisung hands you one of the iced coffees before taking his seat between Chan and Changbin.

"I can be bought." You joke as you take the drink.

You watch as Jisung settles into his seat, handing both Chan and Changbin their drinks before placing the remaining fifth cup on the table behind them. Chan takes a sip of the coffee and turns back to you. "Noona, you were asking us a question."

"I'll ask it later. You guys have a lot of work ahead of you. I'll be like a fly on the wall from this moment forward."

All three of them nod in agreement. Recoding nine songs in one day isn't impossible but it is a lot of work. The three of them turn around again and discuss something briefly that you can't hear. Unsure of what else to do, you recheck your notes as they talk, trying your best to give them privacy in the too-small room.

"Ah, I'm suddenly nervous to record this song!" Chan laughs nervously while throwing his head back.

"We've all seen you perform it seven times already." Jisung pats him on the back to reassure him.

"Yeah but..." His voice trails off as he slowly makes eye contact with you as he spins around.

"You're nervous because of me?" You point to yourself for confirmation.

"Well, the song is a bit..." His voice trails off again, scratching the back of his increasingly red neck.

"Oh, so you can take your shirt off in front of Stay but you can't sing the song in front of noona?" Changbin teases.

"At this point, noona is like my sister. So it's..."

"I'm pretty sure your actual sister was in the audience this weekend. Your entire family really." You remind him.

"Oh my God," He sighs, burying his head in his hands.

"Ah, Bang Chan! Just hurry up and go in the booth already!" Changbin yells, getting annoyed and dropping all formalities with his leader.

"Okay, okay!" He gets up and takes one more sip of his coffee. "It's a song about trains anyway so I don't know what I'm getting worked up about."

"Hyung, be so fucking for real right now. We're all adults here. Just--"

Smack!

"Ow! What was that for." Jisung rubs the spot on his thigh that Changbin just smacked.

Changbin doesn't say anything. Instead, he nods in your direction, warning the younger man that you're still listening. You roll your eyes and raise your hand up. "It's off the record, don't worry."

After some punches to the air, Chan finally makes his way into the recording booth. He places the large headphones over his ears and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. He unfolds the paper and then places it on the music stand in front of him. He signals for you to turn around and cover your ears with a sheepish smile. You respond by shaking your head 'no' and snapping a quick picture of him with your camera.

Jisung gets up from his seat and takes the seat that Chan was sitting in earlier. He pats his previous seat with his hand while looking through the papers in front of him. "Noona, sit here. Come be an honorary member of 3racha."

"I promise you that your careers are safer if I sit back here." You chuckle slightly.

"Then come up here and keep us company. It feels weird sitting here with just two of us. Feels like if Cerberus was missing a head."

"That's a bit dramatic, no?" You question as you gather your things.

"It's 3racha. You need all three of us. Cerberus is just a two-headed dog without the third head. Or worse, a regular dog. 2racha isn't a real thing." Jisung says with a faraway look in his eyes. You can almost see a glint of fondness as he thinks back about something.

"Can I quote you on that?" You ask as you set your things on the table.

"Technically Vocalracha is 2racha," Changbin interjects. Without looking up from the papers he's now flipping through, he pulls out Jisung's chair for you to sit on. Without hesitation, you quietly thank him while taking the seat.

"That's not the same thing and you know it hyung." Jisung whines, stomping his feet on the floor, gently shaking the table.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

All three of your heads snap up at Chan who is now mouthing something at you.

"Oh, his mic is off," Changbin says while he looks at the set of buttons spread out across the table.

"Hold on, this system is different from the one we're used to. Everything is in English too."

"They showed us how to use the equipment earlier but I forgot which one is the mic on and off button," Changbin explains.

Your eyes scan the table and find the button labeled 'microphone on/off'. Afraid of accidentally hitting something and messing with the entire system, you quietly point to it. Changbin follows your finger and presses the button without any hesitation. You hold your breath for a moment, scared that you might have found the wrong button. All three of you stare at Chan while Jisung signals for him to talk.

"Is my mic on now?" Chan asks softly.

All three of you let out a sigh of relief before Jisung presses the intercom button in front of him and leans into the mic. "Yeah, hyung. We can hear you now, loud and clear."

"Okay, good. Are we good to start now? I want to get my song over with before the other kids get here." Chan teeters back and forth on his feet and swings his arms back and forth like a child waiting for their parent to get done talking to their friend. It's an insane image of a man who is about to sing a song that is definitely not about railways.

Jisung turns to look at Changbin who is looking at a little piece of paper in front of him. You can see small diagrams of buttons and little notes on them in Korean that you're almost certain he wrote himself. He gives Jisung a thumbs-up as his finger hovers over one of the buttons.

"Yeah, we're going to start now, hyung," Jisung tells him before sliding the intercom away from him.

Chan resumes his position in front of the microphone. He flashes all three of you an innocent smile before signaling that he's ready to start. Both you and Jisung watch Changbin as he presses one of the buttons. Soon after, the opening notes of "Railway" play over the speaker in the room. Chan makes a motion pointing up which causes Changbin to scramble as he looks for another button while referring to his little cheat sheet. Changbin presses the button and Chan gives him another thumbs-up before singing the opening lines of the song.

You sit quietly between the two younger members of 3racha as they work, careful to not distract them. You've been with them for two months, but this is the most serious you've seen them. Most of the time, they're goofing off and picking on each other or the other members. Changbin quietly nods along to the music while reading the lyrics sitting in front of him. Every few seconds he writes a little note on the page. Jisung is also reading along with the lyrics. After Chan finishes the first verse, he waits patiently while drinking water as Jisung and Changbin quietly discuss among themselves what parts they should have him fix. After a few minutes, they go over what went well and what he can do to improve. Chan nods along before the three of them rerecord the first verse. After the second recording, they replay both versions of the recording for Chan to hear. This time Chan seems a bit dissatisfied and asks if he can try one more time. Once more, the opening notes play and Chan redoes the first verse. During the review of the third take, all three of them are satisfied and go to the next verse.

This process continues for each verse, chorus, and adlib until all three of them, but most importantly Chan, are happy with the final product. Afterwards, Chan switches places with Jisung and it starts all over again. Jisung's recording goes a bit faster than Chan's due to fewer notes from the other two producers in the room. While Jisung records, both Chan and Changbin are quietly explaining everything to you so you have a bit more context of what's going on. After Jisung is done, he takes Chan's seat again while Chan moves over to Changbin's seat so they can record the next song. Changbin's recording took the longest of the three because of how much he was joking around. After that, they managed to get started on the 3racha hip-hop version of "Runners," all while spending more time messing around than focusing. Still, the three of them are done in nearly two hours.

For a moment, you're left alone in the recording studio while the three men take their break outside of the room. You sit quietly on the couch, your new permanent spot now that all three producers are done recording, and add to your notes about the experience. You don't notice at first that Changbin is the first one back in the room. He's quiet for a moment as he reclaims his spot at the end of the table.

"It's not as fun and glamorous as our recording session videos, huh?" Changbin asks quietly, finally breaking his silence.

You slowly lift your head up and blink at him, confused for a moment. You don't think there's been a moment where he's spoken to you first before. At least, not unprompted. Not without another member being in the room.

Changbin continues to stare at you, waiting for your answer. You shake your head and put your notebook aside, "No, I think it's very interesting. I'm learning a lot about making music and you three in general. I really love music so seeing how it's made is really fun."

Changbin slowly nods his head as he spins back around. You roll your eyes as you pick up your notebook again. A few seconds later, Changbin turns around again. You freeze midsentence, waiting for him to say something.

"Do you want to experience the other side of it?" His expression is soft and genuine. You've only seen this expression on his face when he's with his members, never with you. Then again, you haven't been alone with him yet. Maybe the overprotective, intimidating part of him is an act.

"What?" You set your notebook aside once again, "Like, inside the recording booth?"

"Yeah," While his face is softer towards you than you're used to seeing, he still refuses to smile. "For your article. You're still writing that, right? In addition to everything else?"

"I am still writing the article. And I'd love to step inside the booth." Notebook in hand, you follow as Changbin stands up and leads you to the door you've watched all three of them go through.

You wait patiently as you watch Changbin adjust the height of the mic for you. After a few moments, he quietly leaves the room and takes his spot back in front of the soundboard. He motions for you to put the headphones on.

The recording booth is smaller on the inside than you imagined. Much more stuffy, hotter than the room you were just in. It must have something to do with all the soundproofing that needs to be done. You roll up the sleeves of your sweater while you look around the room, taking in every little detail.

"Noona, can you hear me?" Changbin's voice rings through the headphones.

"Yeah," You turn, giving your full attention to the man on the other end of the glass. You always thought that there was a speaker overhead that was connected to the intercom in the other room.

"Good," He nods as he takes a sip of his now watered-down coffee. "I'm going to play something so you can hear what it's like."

You give him a thumbs up as you watch him search through Chan's laptop. After a moment, finding what he's looking for, he turns to look back up at you. "So you're going to hear a quick-timing beat and then the music is going to start."

You wait while watching Changbin as three ticks of what sounds like a metronome play in your ear right before the instrumental track for "Runners" starts. Your head bobs along to the music as you mentally sing the lyrics of the song you've heard countless times. The music is so loud, you're almost certain your heartbeat changed to match the tempo.

Just as soon as the song starts, it ends right when the first verse should end. You quickly grab your notebook and jot down a few notes before looking back at Changbin again.

"Is it always like this? Like," You pause for a moment, trying to find the right words. "is it always just the backing track? I've heard that some artist hear their own voice too."

"You can hear your own voice if you want it that way but it can get a bit confusing so we don't. Some artists will have their guide playing if they have one or a metronome to keep the tempo. If we're layering or doing adlibs then we'll have what we've already recorded playing instead to make it easier for us and the person mixing the track."

"I see," A million more questions float into your mind as you take note of what Changbin just told you. But you decide to keep them to yourself for now. You still have a few more hours before the day is over.

"Do you want to record for real?" Changbin asks suddenly.

You pause for a moment, contemplating his question. It would be a bucket list item you would be able to scratch off the list. But the idea of performing a--song let alone performing a song in front of the original artist--is intimidating. "I can't sing,"

"We have autotune," He says as the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk that he can't hide.

You bite your lower lip as you think about the next time an opportunity like this will happen again. With your career, it probably won't happen again in this lifetime.

"Okay, but no laughing."

"Well, not in front of you."

"I changed my mind." You go to pull the headphones off and go back into the main room.

"I'm kidding, I'll be nice. I promise." He says quickly, his infectious laughter ringing through your ears. "What song do you want to do?"

"'Runners' is fine." You breathe as you readjust the headphones on your head.

Changbin does something on the laptop for a moment, probably turning on the autotune for you, and then makes an 'okay' symbol letting you know he's ready to go.

You say a silent prayer that you don't completely embarrass yourself in front of Changbin or any of the other members who are bound to walk back into the studio at any moment as the metronome chimes in your ears again. As the song starts, your voice is a bit shakier than you hoped. It's one thing to pretend to be an idol recording a song in the shower. It's an entirely different beast standing in a real recording booth while singing in front of an actual idol.

The song goes on longer than it did when Changbin was showing you how it sounded earlier. He's probably letting you go for as long as you can before cutting you off. Unfortunately for him, and his ears, you know the entire song.

Claps erupt in your ears just as the song finishes. You turn to the side to see that Chan and Jisung have returned from their break and that both Seungmin and Jeongin have also arrived. You quickly rip off your headphones, grab your notebook, and leave the booth with your eyes on the floor so that none of the boys can see how red your face is. You're not sure when any of them came in, and for your sake, it might be better that you didn't know.

"Wow, noona, do you want to join us in Vocalracha?" Jeongin jokes as you take your spot back on the couch.

"I think Vocalracha has enough members, thank you very much."

"Just switch places with Seungmin, nobody will notice the difference," Jisung suggests as he takes his seat next to Changbin.

"I'll notice," Seungmin deadpans as he takes the spot next to you on the couch.

"Does that mean I'll be Vocalracha leader then?" Jeongin's eyes light up with a mischievous twinkle.

"I think for noona's sake, you shouldn't be the leader. You'll run it like the military." Chan laughs, ruffling Jeongin's hair. In return, Jeongin pushes him hard enough to cause him to stumble.

Jeonging climbs over both your and Seungmin’s legs to get to the empty seat near the couch in the corner. "And Seungmin hyung doesn't?"

"I'm nice to you, why are you lying? Spend a day in danceracha with Lee Know hyung and you'll be crawling back to me, begging for forgiveness." Seungmin pouts.

Jeongin him off while pulling his phone out of his pocket. "I bow for no one,"

"You bow for Stay." Chan reminded the youngest man.

"That's different. I respect Stay." He replies without missing a beat.

"You don't respect me?" Seungmin asks, his mouth drops open, feigning shock.

Jeongin turns to Seungmin and points at himself. "Maknae on top,"

"Guys," Changbin warns. Both Seungmin and Jeongin turn to the older man, confused by the sudden warning. Changbin only replies by nodding in your direction.

And just like that, he's back to putting a wall between you and the entire group.

"Noona knows that we're only joking," Seungmin says softly, turning back to you with soft eyes. Almost like he's apologizing on Changbin's behalf. "Don't you, Y/n noona?"

"I vaguely remember one or more of you saying something about how Jeongin would be scary if he was one of the hyungs so..." You tease as you pretend to flip through your notebook. You slightly glance up and make eye contact with a worried Changbin. "I'm only joking, I know Jeongin has a soft spot for each of you and to take what you guys say with a grain of salt. Like when Seungmin says he hates you, he doesn't really--"

Seungmin throws his hand in front of your mouth, not close enough to touch you, but enough to get you to stop talking. "Hey, hey, hey, no need to expose me like that, noona."

"Okay, okay, well leave the two maknaes alone." Chan laughs, as he takes his seat next to Jisung. "Which one of you wants to go first? Or did you want to start by doing Vocalracha's 'Runners,' drama version?"

"I'll go first. Someone spent the whole car ride worried about doing his sexy concept in front of noona." Seungmin sighs as he gets up and walks straight into the booth.

"Hey," Jeongin cries, looking up from his phone.

"I'd like to remind everyone that I've already seen all of your stages. Multiple times. I've already seen the belly buttons and abs and heard all of the lyrics enough times in the past two months for you to not be worried." You reassure him.

"Couldn't be me," Chan clears his throat as he turns back around. You can see how quickly his neck and ears are getting red just before he pulls his hood over his head.

"You are the biggest offender, don't lie." Jisung laughs while hitting Chan on the shoulder.

"Seungmin, are you ready?" Chan changes the subject as Seungmin pulls his headphones on. Seungmin responds by making a silly face and doing a thumbs-up.

***

The rest of the day pretty much goes how it did earlier. Seungmin got done with his recording almost as quickly, if not faster than Jisung did earlier. Jeongin took a bit longer because he nitpicked each of his takes to make sure they were perfect. By the time they were done with their solos and recording "Runners," drama version it was time for lunch and the remaining three members of the group came with food for everyone. After lunch, Danceracha got started with their version of "Runners" before doing their solo recordings.

You tried to focus as well as you could but with the room full, there was always something happening on the side that always caught your attention. The other members only got scolded by Chan, Changbin, and Jisung, who were in full producer mode, a handful of times for their volume or overall playful antics. And while the day didn't feel like it lasted that long, when you checked your phone, it was basically dinner time.

"Alright, Lee Know-ssi, you're all done." Chan yawns into the microphone. You are almost certain he didn't get much sleep last night after the two of you spent the entire day exploring Sydney for his solo zine.

"Thank god!" The second oldest yells as he quickly pulls off his headphones and joins all eight of you in the main room.

With nowhere left to sit, Minho sits on Changbin's feet. Nobody else is phased by it, and after spending time with the group, it doesn't puzzle you as much as it once did.

"Hyung, get off," Changbin whines.

Minho tilts his head back and looks at Changbin innocently. "Why?"

"Never mind," Changbin mumbles as he gently pushes Minho's head back forward.

You do your best to hide the smirk threatening you appear on your face as you pack up your equipment. You didn't use much today, just your camera and your notebook. But still, you make sure to disconnect the lens from the camera and over both of them with the appropriate caps and then slide them into your bag. You close your notebook with a satisfying tap and put the pen into the wire spiral before putting it into your bag. Satisfied that you packed everything, you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder.

"If none of you have any plans, we can all head out to dinner for our last night in Australia?" You ask softly.

You want to treat the boys after a long day of work that you know they wouldn't have had if it wasn't for you. It's the least you can do. That is if you can find a way to pay without them knowing or trying to beat you to it.

"A little bit later? There's something the kids and I have to talk about first. If you don't mind waiting, it'll take about an hour. You can go ahead and wait at the hotel if you want." Chan says while stretching his arms in front of him.

You nod with a smile. "That's fine. We can also go another day too. No rush. Have during your meeting. Or text me if you still want to go."

Trying not to trip, you slightly knock into Felix's leg as you leave. You give them one final wave goodbye just as you leave.

You walk to the entrance of the studio, passing by a few random people entering the building. Deciding to stay cool, you wait in the lobby and dig around your bag, looking for your phone so you can call a car service to bring you back to the hotel.

Panic slowly sets in when you don't feel your phone in your bag. You check your pockets quickly before emptying your bag on the couch in the lobby. Pens, gum, your headphones, camera, notebook, wallet, and a bit of trash fall out. But not your phone. You think for a moment, you could have sworn that you put your phone in your bag. You checked the time, set it on the arm of the couch, and then...

It's still in the studio. You shove everything back in your bag. No longer panicking, you move slowly. You could wait around for the group to be done with their meeting and grab your phone so you don't disrupt them. But waiting for an hour, with nothing more to do feels a bit daunting. You could try to head back to the hotel and see if you could ask one of the staff members to message one of the members to grab your phone but the key to your room is in the back of your phone case. And with the security precautions in place for the group, you're almost certain you're not going to be able to get a spare key from the front desk.

"Here," Someone mutters furiously under their breath.

You turn around quickly, only to be met face to face with Changbin, his other hand clenched tightly in a fist. Even with his jaw clenched, you can see spasms of irritation across his face.

"T-thank you," You stutter as you take your phone from him.

Without saying a word, he turns back around and starts walking back to the studio. Halfway he stops, turns back around, and walks back towards you quickly.

"If you're going to bug us, you should learn to hide your phone better." He growls in a low voice.

"Excuse me?" You scoff in disbelief at the accusation.

You thought that you had Changbin figured out. That he's lovely in general but he's protective of the group. But now, as he stares at you with his nostrils flared and pure anger in his eyes, you fear that everything about him is an act.

Before you can explain yourself or even try to diffuse the tension between the two of you, Changbin disappears back into the hallway again.

You tightly grip your phone as you hold back your screams of frustration. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, ignoring the needle pricks of anger stabbing the back of your eyes. Once you've calmed down enough, you pull up the car service app on your phone and order a ride back to the hotel.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

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jhugas · 1 year

Text

‘Im not done with you…’- Park Jimin

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Genre: contains angst, mainly smut

Pairing: Jimin X 8thmember! Afab! Reader

Summary: your argument was stupid and getting hurtful, so you expected a few things from Jimin, but not this…

Word count: ~1,9k

Warnings/tags: oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration (d in v), cum eating (m eats), unprotected sex, 3 diff position including a standing up one- he carries her-(he hellaaaa strong, he can carry anyone), cum stuffing, creampie, reader cums twice, they cum 2gether, some French kiss, make out ofc, big d! Jimin, Reader has a dick bulge in her stomach, reader gets hella tired at the end lol, and also forbidden love/sex ig? by the agence.

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You and Jimin were arguing endlessly and it was getting more and more heated. And the worst is, that you’re fighting over nothing.

You started arguing over something stupid, then started mentioning deeper topics and just using each other’s weaknesses against each other. The main reason you started arguing for got lost in the way, and you bring this up.

‘Why did we even start fighting for? You’re just straight insulting me! Can’t you keep a normal conversation? Is it that hard??’ you yell at him, while the two of you are sat on the same couch against the wall.

‘Listen, I don’t understand anything you’re saying. You get mad at literally everything! We literally agree. I agree with you y/n!!!’ he yells back.

‘Oh so you agree now? Well good! I guess we can stop arguing!’

‘No y/n, I ALWAYS agreed with you, you just don’t understand!’

‘Well then, why are we fighting?!’ You say as you get up, looking down on him and confused on why did you start fighting, slowly calming down.

‘Why did w-‘ you began to say, before Jimin got up too, and cut you by smashing his lip against yours.

You don’t really understand why he kissed you all of a sudden, you’ve never kissed before, but indeed, you can’t say there was never something between you two.

You remember that one time, when you were both sitting down in the pool at night, all alone during summer, and you were just talking together about love and how you wished to find it. And it’s just the way he was staring at your lips when you were talking and the way he was looking at you, that installed an oddly comfortable tension.

It’s true, you felt like your body was moving on its own, trying to feel his lips on you, anywhere, but it didn’t happen.

In fact, your agency didn’t let any idol of the same group date each other, and even if you could just have fun without dating, you never talked about it, so he might not feel the same…

But though you always wanted to kiss him, you didn’t know if it was the right thing to do. Working with someone you might fall in love with is… complicated. But Jimin doesn’t care.

His lips are moving along with yours, still a bit shy but getting more and more bold each second. He has his hands on you, one behind your head, and the other one in between your waist and lower back to hold you close to him, in fact, both of your hips are stuck together.

You pull back to breathe and look at him with a worried look.

‘What’s wrong? Are you alright?’ He asked you when he noticed the way you’re looking at him, he needed to feel his lips on yours again as soon as possible.

‘Are you sure this is okay?’ You whisper with your lips almost touching his.

‘You don’t need to think about anything… just relax and enjoy, you have nothing to do…’ he whispers back, before slowly completing your lips with his again, his bottom lip filling the gap in between yours as he gently sucks on your top lip.

His hand lowers to your ass, leaving you time to stop him if you wanted, but you don’t. He notices and doesn’t lose time to grab your thighs, before lifting you up, making your legs wrap around his tiny waist. Then he leaned his head to the side to get a better taste of you, sliding progressively his tongue in to feel you better.

You can’t help but moan in the kiss. His hands sliding in your panties and the way he’s carrying you is too attractive, he’s making you feel so loved and wanted, and makes you all needy simultaneously.

Because of your position, he gets on his knees on the couch, facing the wall, and makes you sit on the top of it in front of him. He stopped kissing your lips and began to leave kisses on your body instead, from your neck, to your cleavage, to your stomach until he reached your lower stomach.

He looks up at you in admiration with his siren eyes, asking permission to take off your shorts and panties to feel your pussy in his mouth. And as soon as you nodded, you lifted your hips to make it easier for him to take off your shorts and panties in one go, something that he successfully did.

You are now legs open, revealing your bare wet pussy right in front of his shining eyes.

Then he started.

He kissed your thighs, slowly and sensually, then got closer to your lips, before pressing his plump lips against your clit and start giving it a few licks with his tongue.

He also teases your hole, licking the edges just enough to tease you and make you want more.

Curses leave your lips as his tongue works on your clit and his hands grab firmly your thighs to keep them open. You, you are grabbing his hair, bringing him closer to you though it’s not possible, and enjoying his moans through your body vibrations.

His tongue is precise and pleases you at the perfect pace, making your orgasm come faster than usual, and getting wetter each move. And Jimin doesn’t mind, he loves the taste of your juices and would love to drown in it, he always fantasized about how good you’d taste.

He keeps sucking on your clit meanwhile his fingers get to your entrance and eagerly push them in, curling them perfectly and immediately finding your sweet spot. Jimin had so much control over his tongue and fingers it was insane, there is no other like him, he’s the only one that can make you feel like this, and he was ready to prove it to you.

Obviously, you felt your orgasm coming closer and closer as you grab his hair harder, the position being complicated for him but he doesn’t mind, all he wants to hear is you screaming his name.

‘Fu- ugh Jimin! I’m gonna cum!’ you say with the energy you have left, shamelessly showing him how good HE makes you feel.

When he hears this, he decides to go faster to make you cum harder, and it happened.

You cum hard all over his fingers, closing your walls around his fingers as he doesn’t stop until you’re totally done, falling from your high.

Curses leave both of your lips as he pulls out his fingers of you, and leave your clit by itself. Jimin can’t help but taste you on his fingers, feeling your sweet juice on his tongue after playing with it.

Meanwhile, you’re still trying to catch your breath against the wall, still sitting on top of the couch.

‘I’m not done with you…’ Jimin tells you, looking deep into your eyes.

You only manage to answer ‘huh?’ In your state, before he carried you again and started kissing you eyes shut closed, shoving his tongue in your mouth.

You let yourself do and as he told you before ‘just relax and enjoy’. He still has your legs around his waist as he holds you high enough to pull down his pants and Calvin Klein boxers, your bare wet pussy against his lower stomach, and you feel his cock hitting your ass.

‘Be careful…’ you tell him, but he’s not listening, he’s busy aligning the tip of his cock with your cunt.

First, he slides it in between your folds to stimulate your sensitive clit and tease your entrance, before pushing his thick cock inside you.

You throw your head back and arch your back as Jimin carries you safely, and started to make you bounce on it.

He’s grabbing your ass firmly, making you jump up and down his dick as it hits your sensitive sweet spot again. You were so sensitive that even when you tried to not move too much to annoy Jimin, you were still squirming while Jimin, in fact, wasn’t struggling at all.

He was 100% stable and wasn’t ready to let go or stop anytime soon.

Wet clapping sounds, your whimpers, and Jimin’s low groans and moans became louder and louder, still clapping his balls against your ass as his cock pounds into you.

Then suddenly, Jimin decided to switch position, so he pulled out, for one reason; he wanted to see his cock disappear in your cunt.

He heads to the kitchen and lays your back against the kitchen table, as your ass is at the same height as his hips, making it easy for him to slide in and out of you.

You rest a little bit before he slowly pushes his tip in you, observing how his big and thick cock disappeared in your little hole. And once he was all the way in, he could see a bulge in your lower stomach, your lips grabbing his cock as he pulled back. Your sensibility is now more than enjoyable, and you get more pleasure with each thrust.

‘Take off your shirt baby… I wanna see you all naked for me…’ he says, excited at the idea of seeing your titties jump.

‘Do it for me-‘ you answered, too tired to even think straight.

At your words, Jimin doesn’t lose any time and takes off his hands of your hips to take off your shirt, then waiting for you to arch to unclip your bra, finally being able to see your body entirely naked for the first time. You looked more than ethereal, seeing you all open for him and so vulnerable made him feel so trusted.

He can feel your walls clench around him, and also his high coming fast.

‘I’m gonna cu- cum soon.’ Jimin warns you.

‘Cum in me, I wanna cum with you…’ you answer breathlessly.

Jimin is happy at the green light, he’ll be cumming in you and watching his thick semen get out of your cunt too.

He keeps on pounding into you, watching your boobs jump in circles and making you feel every single inch of his thick and big cock he was so proud of. You already felt it when you were secretly grinding on each other years ago, too scared to do more, but feeling it inside you was much different.

‘Fu- I’m cumming!’ He screams, as he pushes his dick deeply into you to cum the further possible. He paints your walls in white and you feel his warm cum resting in you. Then you came next, your juice drowning Jimin’s cock that was still in you, whispering to himself ‘so tight’.

Your body started shaking as Jimin made sure you didn’t hit your head on the table.

Then finally, the two of you calmed down. Not moving as both of your juices mix together in your spot, until he pulled out slowly, making you feel so empty all of a sudden.

He watched his cum get out of your cunt and slide down to your asshole, but Jimin wanted to stuff you more. As you were relaxing laying down, he used his tip to gather his white cum and shove it in your cunt again repeatedly.

‘What just happened?’ You ask Jimin.

‘I said don’t worry love, let’s take a shower now. Had fun?’ He whispers.

‘Yes…’ you whisper back, before Jimin carried you to the toilet then to the shower, helping you feel better and cuddling you a lot.

Let’s say this was an apology for every mean things you told each others.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, comments and likes are extremely nice and helpful. Thank you!

Masterlist

#bts #army #scenarios #fanfic #imagine #one shot #smut #bts fanfic #Jimin #Jimin smut #Jimin x reader #Jimin x y/n #Jimin one shot #bts smut #Jimin Drabble #bts Drabble #Jimin angst

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jakeyt · 1 year

Text

Covet: Chapter 7 (Part 1 of 2)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Covet Summary:

Life was good. No, life was great.

Was.

Until.

Jake Kiszka crashed into the picture.

You welcomed him into your life—your home.

Yes, he was your best friend’s twin. But, he was also the one who would end up disrupting your whole world with his attitude, his troubles, and the annoyingly natural way he lured you in.

Jake Kiszka came with so much you really didn’t want.

At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself.

Warnings: MINORS DNI (18+); allusions to ~future happenings~...and that is all i'll say (enter at your own risk); smutty smutty smut; oral sex m!receiving; unprotected p in v sex (lmk if i missed anything that is triggering to you!)

Chapter Word Count: 10.4k+

Covet Masterlist

a/n: hello, lovelies! i present to you the first half of chapter 7!

my personal life is crazy and my job is crazy (understatement). aaand the cherry on top: my dog chewed up my laptop cord this week! 🙃 that instance made my computer completely inaccessible (since i suck at keeping it charged) until today when the new charger arrived in the mail.

this is a shorter chapter than what i'm used to posting (and edited MUCH more lightly than what i’m used to), but the second half is not completely done yet!

i just felt like i needed to post something since i promised a chapter yesterday. i truly hate not keeping my word. hopefully this first part is enough to tie you over :)

ty to my sis @joshym for being a fucking amazing sister, talking through ideas w me, and proofreading for me (plus some) <3 ilysfm

and ty to @alwaysonthemend for being an a1 friend and supporting + encouraging me always. u r truly amazing & ilysm <3

(((the dream at the beginning of this chapter is alluding to something /extremely/ important that is coming in this story, and i've been dying for y'all to find out what is coming since day 1.......)))

soooo, all of this to say, i hope you enjoy the first half of chapter 7 <3

-🌼🌼🌼-

Screaming.

So much screaming.

In the dimness of the new dream, it seemed as though this obtuse, unintelligible screaming was coming from . . .you?

Why did you feel swollen?

And why was everything hurting?

There were also tears. Tears you felt coming from your tired eyes, rushing down your cheeks in steady tracks. Mass amounts of sweat exuded in hot beads from your forehead.

You tried to reach a hand up to wipe at your soaked face.

But the hand you were trying to move was stuck in a vice grip.

Looking over, you tried to decipher the person holding your hand so tight.

You were met with a familiar face, his eyebrows scrunched so tightly together. You’d seen them like that before. But now, it felt almost sacred seeing his concentration.

In your dreamscape, you couldn’t tell what was going on, but it seemed like a long time coming. All you knew was that this was an important moment. Pieces were clicking. A hole was being filled in your broken heart.

And this man with you —he could only do so much. It was bothering him. You could tell that much. His forehead, wet with sweat, from his own stress. His lip was shiny with perspiration, too . . .

Funnily enough, you noticed there was something else taking up residence on the handsome face you knew so well. . .

. . . a mustache?

Whose face was it? The dream-veil was still covering the distinction from you. . .he just felt so safe.

It seemed the mystery man was struggling with his inability to steal the pain from you. He didn’t want you feeling it. He wanted to feel it for you. He hated not being able to help you more.

This person, you knew that he was your anchor at this moment. Your only saving grace. The only person you wanted near you.

His long hair was pulled up.

Then, his soft voice helped you to fully see him through the veil of your dream.

Jake.

“You’ve got this,” he encouraged, his eyes locking with yours. His voice drenched you in relief and overwhelming comfort, in spite of your pained state. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve got this.”

But what was your current state? You couldn’t even distinguish . . .

Something in the back of your brain told you to look down. Why was there so much blood?

And why couldn’t you see your feet? Weird.

Suddenly, a loud scream tore through you again. You felt the scream in your muscles. In your bones. Damn. You felt it—everywhere. Sweat was exuding from every pore.

Tendrils of your hair were plastered to your forehead.

But in this position, with all you were feeling, you couldn’t be bothered to push the sticky hair away from your face. It was bothering the hell out of you, though.

This was all too much.

You didn’t need to worry long, though, because the man, now confirmed as Jake, reached up to smooth it away for you.

Oh, he was amazing.

But fuck—the pain.

Another scream ripped through you—

Fuckfuckfuckshitdamnfuuuuuck!—

Suddenly, you heard something from outside of your pain.

Your eyes flew to Jake, then to the sound.

It was coming from somewhere else.

Not this place.

It was grounding. It was reassuring — a steady, secure thrumming pulling you—

Your eyes shot open. Your body was sticky with sweat—reminiscent of that in your dream. (Thankfully, there wasn’t as much as there had been in your subconsciousness.)

Mostly, you were surprised by the lack of screaming. Screaming hadn't been what’d awoken you.

Strange.

No, it was the steadily thrumming heart below your hand, drawing you back to a safe reality.

That was the sound. What had pulled you back.

Jake’s warm, firm chest that held the steady beat was breathing full, sleeping breaths underneath you.

And a strong, comforting arm around you, keeping you close.

You took a minute to regain your current, real surroundings.

It was peaceful. Still.

The serenely sleeping man underneath you.

Your body was still on top of his, the only evidence from your dream being your body, which was sticky with sweat from your exertion in the dream. But other than that, everything was just. . . calm.

Everything was calm. Everything was okay.

You felt true peace. There wasn’t underlying stress from what had happened in your sleep.

It made you desperate to just focus on soaking up the feeling you were experiencing now.

You heard birds singing outside. The morning sun was peeking through the small opening of his black curtains. . .

And he was. . . Peace. Present. Real.

You had a hand laying on his chest, your cheek atop it, and the other arm, wrapped around his midsection.

The feeling was reminiscent of the satisfying feeling of finding a puzzle piece for which you’d been searching. And finally placing it where it belonged.

You used the hand that was resting with a cheek atop it, on Jake’s heated chest, to level your chin to turn and observe him.

His eyes fluttered behind his lids. His mouth was slightly ajar, his top row of teeth peeking slightly from behind his parted lips. You grinned at the way he had the slightest curve to his lips. . .not quite smiling, but almost. One of your favorite things about Jake’s mouth was how his top lip curled anytime he opened his mouth with a grin. And it curled just the same as he slept.

There were steady breaths, lifting your cheek slightly. You took a closer look at his other features. His sharp nose. . .not quite the same as Josh’s. No, Jake’s was just a tad bit rounder. But still sharp.

A handsome nose.

And. . . was that . . . A deviated septum? How was he not snoring?

Somehow, as if on cue, the slightest snore left him. It was only momentary, and it made a grin fit to your lips.

Your eyes flitted down, and your brain fully registered the feeling of being wrapped around his naked body. And fuck, it felt good. You took notice of how it felt to have your bare breasts pressed into his naked side and chest. It felt so right to be so close to him. To be skin to skin.

Your thigh was tucked between his, and when you moved to lay back against his chest, your thigh grazed his smooth sac. He was so neatly groomed.

Moving your leg again, just the slightest bit, you relished in the rousing feeling of being tucked into him. You felt the muscles in Jake’s thighs react to it. His stomach tensed underneath your arm. His dick twitched against your thigh.

You felt your entrance gather wetness, your body craving him.

A low moan came from Jake, accompanied by a deep breath through his nose and a hearty yawn, his chest rising beneath your hand.

He was awake.

And all of these noises he made, combined with his manhood against your leg made your heart rate increase.

Your core ached, where it was pressed against his skin.

When you looked up to survey him, you noticed he was already looking at you. His eyes, still hazy from sleep, but taking every piece of you in, nonetheless.

Your heart hammered in your chest.

“Hi,” he quietly initiated, his voice matching the quietness of the room with a soft timbre. A gentle grin flitted across his lips.

You could feel your cheeks heat. You didn’t know how to react to him being awake. It all became too real. The situation you were in.

Suddenly, it all came flying back to you that nothing had really been solved last night.

You tensed the slightest bit.

This was Jake. The roommate who’d been fucking with you in more ways than one since he’d crossed the threshold of your home.

You weren’t friends. Was he quite possibly the most sexy, fuckable man you’d ever met? Hell fuckin’ yeah.

But this couldn’t be right. The plan you’d had before to have it be a one time thing seemed the only logical thing to cross your mind at that moment.

Though, his eyes were begging for you, pulling you in, practically golden in the early morning sun.

Jake wasn’t all bad. Not even close, actually.

He’d been a hurting person. A healing person.

Recently enough, he’d shown a different, decent version of himself in little acts and things he’d say.

His eyes sparkled in the sun, showing you little pieces of him inside. Pieces you wanted to know.

And he was, undoubtedly, someone who drew you in.

Your mind was screaming at you.

Why do you keep fighting this, y/n?! You heard the small voice in your head berating you. Just let yourself enjoy something for once.

But—he was, by nature, an asshole. And the most unpredictable man you’d ever met.

And you couldn’t chance Josh finding out that you’d corrupted his brother’s dream. You were not doing to be that girl.

Though, try as a you might, a huge fucking part of you wanted to give in to the voice in your mind: savor the moment, soak it up a bit longer. Drown in him.

Let yourself explore. Fuck it all.

You saw him reach up to your head, and brush some hair behind your hair, lazily. Sweetly.

“Whose record player day is it?” He asked, continuing to play with your hair, making you lean in closer.

Fuck.

You squeezed your eyes shut at the sudden realization.

Records.

The Black and Gold.

You worked today. You’d almost forgotten.

So, before you could get more comfortable, and give any of this any more of a chance in your mind, you straightened and bolted upright.

His covers fell from your chest, and your skin goosebumped, your nipples peaking in the cool air of his room. You quickly covered yourself.

“Y/n?” He mumbled, his smooth voice still sleepy behind you as he grasped at your hip. You felt your skin tingle at his touch, your legs nearly trembling for him already.

He was so close. Your body was reeling at him being so near to you. If only you could stay with him.

Ignore any sensible thought.

Fuck.

“Shit,” you muttered, lunging further into the ruffled covers, fumbling around for your phone to check the time. Then it came to you. It was definitely still sitting in your purse, where you’d dropped it on the table the night before.

So, before you could think any better of it, you threw the covers completely off of you, bare, round ass jiggling as you ran to the dining table to grab your phone.

Why were you hoping he’d watched the natural sway of your ass as you’d left?

What in the fuck had you let yourself do last night? You knew what. But why?

And why had you let yourself lay there and savor this morning with Jake? Why had you allowed yourself to quite literally sink into him?

He’d been warm and welcoming, y/n, that’s why, your mind fluttered with a fluster of thoughts as it calmly spoke over you. You want him. It’s okay.

You shook your head at the thoughts, taking your phone, holding it to your chest and closing your bedroom door behind you to let yourself breathe.

Now was not the time to consider it.

You were trying to beat the clock to get to work.

But you needed a quick shower before you even started your day.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You had walked into the quaint little store, just in time to adjust to your surroundings before the clock struck 8 a.m., customers filtering through the door soon after, the bell chiming every time.

But, in the quiet times of the day, your mind kept shifting to the handsome, restful man you’d left behind that morning. What had he been thinking when you left?

Why did you have to leave? Why couldn’t you just accept the wonderful feelings tempting you?

Why did you even fucking care?

It was not worth the time or effort.

He’d shown his ass too many times. There were too many things to risk.

You were glad your shift at the Black and Gold had been there to tear you away before you could consider anything else.

As you checked out a sweet elderly couple and wished them on their way, your mind wandered to your dream.

What had that dream been about? It was taunting you, allusive and fleeting.

And Jake’s heartbeat, being what’d brought you back to reality.

It just wasn’t normal in the slightest for something like that to bring you back to real life.

You were used to waking with the same blood-curdling screams you’d emit in a dream. Granted, it had been awhile since you’d even had a screaming dream. Years, really.

Why the hell had you just had one again?

Every single time in the past you had had a dream with terrible screaming, you’d awoken with the screams, too.

But this time, your throat didn’t feel dry from waking with screams. Your mouth wasn’t open. Your body wasn’t tense.

And with how peacefully Jake had been slumbering beneath you, you’d used that as evidence that you hadn’t woken with screaming, too.

He would’ve heard it. You were loud.

One more thing—the screams from your dream hadn’t been like the screams from dreams past that had scared you. No, the screams from this fleeting dream had felt oddly fulfilling.

Like you were on the cusp of something wonderfully new.

The details from the dream were quickly trickling from your mind. Like a faucet you couldn’t turn off. Not staying put like your dreams normally would.

It was like your mind legitimately couldn’t hold onto this dream.

Huh.

All of it was honestly a very welcome change.

Since you were a little girl, you’d had extremely vivid dreams. They had a bad habit of sticking with you, haunting you more than you’d ever liked.

“The dreams are due to your trauma, sweetie,” a therapist had tried to soothe you once as a little girl. “You use your dreams as a means to escape your sad reality,” she’d assumed. You had tried to understand the counsel the best you could as a child. And then it had gotten even deeper, the therapist delving in. “You have a deep seeded want to control things. . . I mean, understandably, honey. . .and maybe, since your dreams are something you can create and control, it is the only time you feel you have some semblance of control over what’s going on.”

In the cushy chair across from the wrinkly counselor with bright red nail polish on her fingernails, you’d sat there, barely registering what it all meant. You had been eleven, for God’s sake.

So, when you left counseling that day, you had just shrugged it off. It didn’t make any sense to you as an eleven year old girl.

Your therapist had been an older woman with gray hair and kind eyes. She’d been nice enough. Your grandparents had taken you to her as a child.

For a year.

Religiously.

Sometimes, you and Elsie would attend together. Those were the best sessions. Other times, you two would swap therapy weeks. One week she’d go, the next week you would.

But you hated going without her. Being by yourself, you felt totally trapped, listening to words you really didn’t understand at all. Sometimes, Els could translate some of the things the therapist said that were more difficult for you to understand.

But sessions that got super deep? Too deep? You didn’t even care to ask Elsie. You didn’t want to. They always got pushed to the back of your mind.

It was just plain uncomfortable.

Back then, your dreams were much more frequent, and oftentimes turned into full-fledged nightmares. You were plagued by them. That alone had made you question your therapist saying it was a way for you to “control” things. You hadn’t felt any control in those “dreams”.

With those dreams (or nightmares, rather), you would wake up— crying, yelling, and thrashing around. Elsie was usually allowed to stay with you on those nights. . .and she would stay, combing through your hair, shushing you, until you would calm down enough to drift back to sleep, sobs sometimes still choking you as your eyes would close, back to a shaky sleep.

Now, as an adult, there weren’t as many nightmares as there were dreams. Some that made sense. Some that didn’t. Most of them, you remembered.

The main theme of all of your most recent dreams had been much more enjoyable than your dreams as a child. And the most recent ones. . .all of them had been about Jake. And they were always fun.

Fucking mind blowing.

But what in the hell had that last one been about? What was happening? Why were you screaming? The pain? And why was Jake there at all?

He wasn’t ever there for the bad dreams.

But had that one this morning been a bad one? You honestly couldn’t tell.

The remnants of it were leaving your headspace way too quickly for you to be able to give it much more thought, anyway.

-🌼🌼🌼-

Just as your shift was about to end, you saw a vinyl get placed on the counter, across from you.

An Evening With Silk Sonic.

And then you saw the perfectly manicured nails that tapped against the record.

You’d know those hands anywhere.

Your eyes flicked up to your sister’s deep blue ones.

Rounding the counter in no time, you were hugging her tightly to you. She smelled of vanilla shampoo and her go-to Bath and Bodyworks body spray. Champagne Toast.

Damn, being away from her sucked such ass. Being close to her again felt heavenly.

You separated from her, both of you leaning against the counter in the same way, at the same time. The store was occupied by only a few customers.

“What the fuck are you doing here, bitch?” You questioned her, laughing at the situation. What a fantastic surprise.

Strange, you’d been thinking of her all day, and now this had happened.

“What a shitty welcoming committee,” she giggled, too. You smiled. “Damn.”

Going around the counter, back to the register, you eyed the clock on the wall opposite you.

“Perfect timing, Els,” you commented, taking the vinyl to scan. You applied your employee discount, bagged it, and slid it back to her. “I’m off in like ten minutes. Also, you have this record already.”

She grinned. “Just felt like stopping by. And you are not one to judge for having vinyl dupes,” she winked. “I also might’ve gotten a text from Josh telling me of an upcoming show.”

Shock flooded you, a beam taking over your features. “Are you and Josh. . .?!”

“No,” she played with the handle of the bag. A quiet smile was on her face. Content, but obviously wanting. You knew her. “Just texting. But he asked if I’d come to this one happening tomorrow, and I figured: you only live once, it’s summer, and he’s hot as fuck. So I decided I should probably take him up on it.”

“Well, I’m a little hurt it’s not for me,” you joked.

“Get over it, bitch. You were my first stop,” she rolled her eyes.

“I’ll never forgive you. But I definitely support this whole Josh and Elsie thing,” you fist pumped the air. “Fuck yeah. About damn time you admit how you feel about him.”

She slapped your fist out of the air. And with a laugh on her lips, she added, “I’m going to see Grandma and Grandpa,” she grabbed her bag to go, already pushing the door to the store open.

“Els, I get off in less than ten minutes. Just wait,” you paused. “Also, what are you gonna do? Take a fucking Uber? Just wait for me and we’ll take my car.”

She groaned with a fake exasperated sigh. “Fine. But hurry,” she slung the bag over her arm, letting the bell chime as the door shut. She checked her phone, mindlessly scrolling as she added, “By the way, I’m staying with you.”

At first, you were excited.

And then, your heart jumped into your throat when you remembered what your sister would be walking right into.

Fuck.

-🌼🌼🌼-

You couldn’t remember for the life of you if he had rehearsal or worked tonight. Surely they didn’t have rehearsal since they’d just had a gig last night. That was practice enough for their show tomorrow.

But he did have the occasional client on Sundays.

As Elsie walked around one of your grandparents’ gardens with your Grandma, you stood to the side and pulled up the text thread between yourself and Jake.

A few blue bubbles on your end, with nothing from him.

See? This is why you shouldn’t pursue him, a bothersome voice perked up in your head. The same one that always convinced you out of him. He is flaky. Can’t even respond to texts.

And still, you typed yet another text to him that would most likely be ignored, too.

It was admittedly nerve-wracking to even think about sending the text. Your chest tightened, hands getting sweaty. Dumb. You weren’t a fucking teenager with a damned crush, for God’s sake.

You bit the bullet and sent him the text. You were an adult, dammit.

And so, the first thing you said to him since he’d fucked you into his mattress was:

You, 4:54 p.m.: Please don’t be home tonight. Find a place to go.

Well, that was real nice, y/n, said the other voice. The one that brought reassurance to your lingering, recurring feelings for Jake. Very sweet of you.

You still couldn’t decide if that voice was the devil or the angel.

You, 4:54 p.m.: Also, don’t you dare tell a soul about what happened last night.

And surprisingly, he texted back almost immediately. You got butterflies for God-knows-what reason. Ridiculous.

Had he been waiting for you to say something? No. Surely not.

Jake, 4:56 p.m.: Already had plans. But thanks for the instructions. Appreciate it

You growled quietly under your breath and narrowed your eyes at the screen.

Though you didn’t want to admit it, your stomach did drop the slightest bit at him saying he had other plans. Were the plans lessons with a client? A girl? A girl client?

Why did it matter? Ugh. Absolutely ridiculous.

You suppressed the juvenile train of thought and hastily typed back, holding tight to how he’d initially irritated you.

You, 4:57 p.m.: Are you going to fucking tell people? You better not.

Jake, 4:57 p.m.: No, y/n. I won’t tell Josh. jesus christ

You couldn’t believe him. Pouty ass. Always concerned with Josh this and Josh that. How was he so blind to even think—?!

Deciding you didn’t want to think about him, and rather enjoy time with your family, you clicked your phone off and stuffed it in your jeans pocket.

You didn’t need to worry about him for the time being, getting a decent enough response to your initial text.

But as you trailed after the sound of your Grandmother’s voice, locating her and Elsie, talking about her red roses, your mind went back to wondering. . .what were his plans?

-🌼🌼🌼-

“I swear to all that is holy if Silk Sonic doesn’t tour, I’m going to riot,” Elsie remarked as ‘After Last Night’ came on her shuffle.

You’d since pushed away your thoughts of your texts with Jake.

But now, this sexy song made your insides buzz. Your mind was clouded with flashes of your night ‘last night’.

The voice at the beginning echoed the bouts of thought that’d been following you around all day, desperate for you to keep up with them.

You’d been ignoring them all day.

You couldn’t help it when the featured woman’s voice enveloped you.

“Mmh,

Damn, I don't even know who I was last night,

It's just somethin' about you,

You just make me feel, mmh”

Fuck. All you could see was him. His face above you, how he felt moving in you, his hair sticking to his forehead with the delicious sweat he’d exuded.

But—thinking too much about it was a dangerous idea.

He was dangerous.

Better to leave it at what it was. One time.

You couldn’t deny wanting more of what happened last night, though. . .the feeling of him was addictive. He felt so damn good. . . moving his hips just right, hitting every spot possible within you.

But, you also couldn’t fully accept that things would be okay if you did give in to the (ludicrous) idea of more.

He was a jerk. And you couldn’t risk what Josh would think if he ever found out. Distracting his brother from his dream.

But dammit, the memories—shiiiit. If they weren’t tugging at you, tempting you. . .

The deep, brown irises that had looked so intimately into yours as he’d taken you. Your tight body welcoming him in, his room filled with combined whimpers and moans.

Your sister interrupted your thoughts with a deep sigh, followed by your usual shared sentiment about Bruno Mars. “Bruno can have me any fuckin’ way he wants. I will leave the door open, okay?”

But you were barely registering what she said, because your thoughts were finally giving way to being improperly preoccupied with your fucking roommate.

You’d done so well distracting yourself all day with the thoughts of your faded dream, work, Elsie, and your grandparents. . .but now that this song was on. . .

Your mind could only linger in the one place it wanted most of all.

Damn, he’d been incredible last night. Fuck, you thought, your body feeling alert and ready for him, all over again in this moment. The best I’ve ever, ever had.

He’d known exactly what he was doing. . .a fucking pro.

Your clit throbbed at the mere thought of how he’d felt licking at you, lapping up your release. . .

The things he’d said.

“That’s it, baby, that’s it. Let me have it.”

“I was fucking the mattress because I loved getting to tongue fuck the hell out of your perfect pussy.”

Fucking hell.

And then, when he’d been deep inside of you, stretching you out. . .

“So fucking tight.”

You crossed your legs, needing to control yourself in the presence of your sister. The friction of your jeans making it worse. Shit.

Then Jake’s smooth voice invaded your brain again.

“I love this fuckin’ view of you, y/n,” he’d groaned, you could still feel the way his breath hit your shoulder, his dick throbbing inside. “And the way you feel like this—goddamn.”

And then there were the soft things. . .the things he’d done and said that had totally made you feel like a girl with a little crush. The comments that made your tummy flutter.

“You are so fucking beautiful, y/n. Dammit,” he’d said it with awe in his velvety tone. His voice had even hitched on his next words. “This is— you are . . .,” he’d shaken his head, and he hadn’t ever been able to come up with the words.

You went back to that moment — where you’d been totally exposed to him, your wet center wrapped around him, his gaze not able to leave your heaving body. Vulnerability had never been your strong suit, but in that moment, more vulnerable than ever to him. . . It had been okay.

And in this moment, reeling at the thought of it all, you felt prepared to be that opened to him a thousand times over.

Shit.

And finally, there’d been after. . .

“Wanna see your face,” he’d sighed, rubbing at your shoulder, ready to see you after positively fucking ruining you.

Your skin heated, thinking back on the intimacy of the moments shared.

And afterwards, snuggling into him, you had decided so many things. The main thing being that you wanted him more than just that one time.

Why had you tried to convince yourself this morning that you couldn’t—?

And why were you still being a bitch to him over texts? Why were you insistent on not giving it a chance?

He’s a dick, y/n, the annoying, sensible voice echoed at you. And Josh would never forgive you.

Fuck. You were tired of the inner battle.

A hand against your shoulder, shaking you, brought you back to reality.

Holy shit. How had you escaped so fully?

“Earth to my fucking sister!” Elsie continued to move you, her hand grasping your arm.

You slapped her hand away. “Jesus fuck, Elsie,” you snapped at her, looking at your arm after she released it. “You’re going to leave fingerprints! Dammit.”

You were being dramatic, you knew this. She hadn’t gripped you that hard. But you were, admittedly, embarrassed you’d been so gone.

So you’d get onto Elsie instead of focusing on yourself and your sexy, fuckass roommate.

“Oh, shut the hell up, Little Miss Drama Queen,” she punched your shoulder. At your squeaky ‘ow!’, she just rolled her eyes. “You were literally absent. Nowhere near this car. La La Land. Just trying to get you the fuck back. I was talking to you.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes back at her to mask your flushed cheeks. “I’m sorry. Just out of it.”

“Why?”

“No reason.”

“Mom?”

“No.”

“Did Grandpa say something mildly offensive to you when we were there just now?”

You laughed at that. He was definitely more than only mildly offensive. But it wasn’t him. Not even close.

“No.”

“Jake?”

Your silence answered for you. Shit.

Speak, y/n, speak!

How did she know?!

“What the fuck did he do now?” She sassed, glancing sideways at you for a few seconds.

Looking away, you dodged any of her accusing peeks. Needed to divert her. . .move on from her assumptions. Cover up the silence.

“Nothing,” you shifted down in your seat, your feet going up on the dash. “I didn’t even say it was him.”

“You didn’t have to.”

You looked out the window, pretending to be otherwise distracted. You hummed.

“When did Bruno spark your interest again?” You poked back, working to make her argue about something that wasn’t Jake related.

She scoffed. “As if he ever stopped sparking my—hey! No!” She scolded, smacking your arm lightly.

“What?!” You played dumb, rubbing your arm. “I just thought with you buying another record and with us listening—“

“Stop trying to distract me!” She clucked, stopping at a red light and turning the music down. You felt her eyes burning into the side of your skull as you stared out the windshield, now. “You little fuckin’ weasel. Don’t avoid the conversation.”

You huffed a dramatic breath. There were two drastically different parts of you feeling things right now.

One that wanted to tell Elsie absolutely everything, because you knew she’d be the voice of reason you so desperately needed.

And the other part that wanted you to be fair to what you’d asked of Jake. . .which would be to not tell her anything at all.

You were also not looking forward to the shit she’d give you if you were to bare your heart to her about this.

(Because, either way, you had a feeling you knew exactly what she’d say.)

“Elsie, it’s really nothi—.”

“Did you fuck him?”

Shit.

Your heart was racing.

Fuck. What would you say?

What would you do now?

And how did she do this shit?! She’d always been able to read you like a damn book.

You swallowed thickly.

And once again, you let your silence answer for you.

If you didn’t actually say anything, you weren’t technically telling her. . .right?

The light changed to green and minutes passed.

It was slightly awkward. Neither of you said a word until she pulled into a parking space at your complex.

Instead, she’d simply turned up the music in response to your silence.

And that was unlike her. Normally, she’d have something to quip back, right away. You weren’t used to her silence.

You were freaked out.

So, as you walked up the steps to your apartment, you decided you’d be an adult, and be the first person to say something.

“What do you want for dinner?” You asked, almost absentmindedly as you opened the door.

Better to act oblivious. Maybe it would go away.

She followed you in, meandering about, not acknowledging your question for a few minutes.

You tried again, muttering her name in question, “Els?”

She got up from her crouched position to pet Stevie, and when she rose, she looked you square in the eyes with a look that could only be described as pure irritation. Her eyes were blazing.

“What?” Elsie snapped, turning her back to you, hair swishing around her shoulders, then taking her bag to your room. Following her, you saw her plop her bag on the ground next to your bed. She hopped onto it, her feet dangling as she sat there, her eyes downcast. “Why didn’t you want to tell me?” She sounded sad, it made your heart lurch the slightest bit. And then her voice fired up again with her next question. “And why the fuck do you always act like a little puppy that’s been kicked when Jake comes up? What’s wrong with you?”

You couldn’t mask your offense.

“What’s wrong with me?!” You choked. “Why are you acting like this?”

She squeaked, her mouth gaping. “Why am I acting like this?! Why have you been so turned off to the idea of Jake since he came into the picture?”

“Oh, I definitely haven’t been turned off.”

It just slipped out. Shit.

“Ha!” She leaned forward, her elbows on her thighs as she leveled you with a stare. “Then why are you trying so damn hard to deny it?”

You decided it was pointless to reject that you’d said it. Better to just own it. She was the only person you could talk to about this, anyway.

And you needed to talk about it.

You momentarily felt bad for Jake that you’d closed him off to talking about it when you were about to let yourself.

He just couldn’t be trusted to not tell the wrong person . . . Aka his twin. The last person who ever needed to know.

Deciding you didn’t need to worry about it, you continued.

“I just can’t pursue it, Elsie. . .we’ve talked about this,” you sighed, going about taking off your jewelry, placing it delicately where it went every night. Except last night.

You changed out of your jeans and short sleeved button down, and into a pair of smaller comfy shorts and an oversized crop top, revealing the sliver of skin at your hips. Elsie’s eyebrow lifted at your choice in clothing, the lack of material covering your ass. Your eyes set firmly as you glared at her. “Shut up. I wear this kind of shit all the—.”

“Trying to impress your roommate with that ass?” She smirked with her question.

You rolled your eyes, flushing at being caught in your little game you’d caught yourself playing recently. You liked him looking at you.

Yes, but you don’t need to know that, you thought.

But she didn’t stay on it for long when she hopped off the bed to most likely dig in her bag for her own comfy clothes. When she pulled out leggings and a crop top, your suspicions were confirmed. She shut the door to your bedroom before she started changing, she smirked. “I don’t want Jake to see me naked, thank you very much.” Once fully changed, she went to put her hair up in a claw clip. You went to quip back, but she started speaking before you could. “You’re changing with the door open, for God’s sake. How many times have you sexed him up to feel comfortable enough to do that, y/n?”

You scoffed with an eye roll, putting your own hair up in a clip. “First of all, he’s not going to be here tonight. That’s why I changed with the door open,” you pulled a couple tendrils out to frame your face. Your thoughts pulled to the idea of seeing Jake with his hair up. . .now that was a thought. You just knew he’d look so good. “And secondly, we have only. . .done it once.”

“Done it?” She guffawed. “Oh my God, y/n. . . what is it about this man that makes you sound and act like a fucking teenager?”

Putting two hands against your face to cover it, you moaned in aggravation because now she had noticed how he made you act like a fucking school girl. Why did he have you down so bad?

“I don’t know!” You went to sit on the ground and lean against your bed. Bringing your legs up to your chest, you wrapped your arms around them. Your chin sat atop your knees, eyes following Elsie as she took her own jewelry off and threw it in her bag. She joined you next to your sulking form, positioning her body to be facing towards you, crossing her legs. “What do I do, Elsie?”

“Before we get into all of that, I have to ask. . . why are you being so melodramatic?” She inquired, seeming genuinely curious. “You’re making it this giant thing when it doesn’t need to be.”

Why were you making it so big? By doing that, you were giving whatever the hell this predicament was —giving Jake—way more power than necessary.

“I don’t know.”

She squinted at you, her patience obviously wearing thin. “Okay, I’m going to need more than ‘I don’t know’ over and over again. I can’t work with that. Let’s start with the bare bones: do you think he’s cute?”

You literally cackled at that.

“Really? Do I think he’s cute? That is such a juvenile way to—.”

“Well, you’re acting like a juvenile, so fair’s fair. Childish question for someone acting like a child.”

“Jesus. Ouch,” you responded, feeling slightly hurt. But you couldn’t deny seeing her point for exactly what it was.

She rolled her eyes. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

You decided you’d give her exactly what she wanted.

“Firstly, have you seen him?! He’s more than fucking cute, Elsie,” you dazed off, thinking of him. His Amber-brown eyes, his tanned skin, his flowing chestnut locks, and that handsome, sharp nose you’d admired when you’d woken up. And his body. . .fuck. “He’s fucking enigmatic. . .entrancing. . .a sex god. . .,” You lost yourself in the thought of him. The way he walked with so much purpose, how confident he looked on every stage he graced. . .and how all of that upheld in the bedroom. How he—

“Oh damn. . .he’s that good?” She could’ve been eating fuckin’ popcorn with how invested she was in this conversation. “Also, glad you’re not blind. He’s sexy as hell.”

You grinned, looking into the flecks of light filtering into your room with the evening sun. All of the things from last night. . .you felt them overwhelming your brain to help you explain. “He’s more than good. He is the perfect amount of rough and soft. . .he shows he cares about pleasing you with how purposeful—how intentional he is with every damn movement of his hips. . . And he just knew exactly where to hit inside—.”

“Oookay,” she put a hand up to stop you. Your eyes snapped up to her, realizing you’d lost yourself in thought. Your cheeks blushed of their own accord. “I’d love to hear the details, but also . . . Damn. I’ve never seen you so gotten.”

“Gotten? What is this, a Jane Austen novel?” You mocked, covering up how you’d let yourself get away. Absently, you wiped the heel of your palm against the corner of your mouth. You’d literally started drooling.

Embarrassing.

“Um, yeah, might as well be,” she raised a brow, smug. “And the Fifty Shades of Grey version at that.”

“We’ve only had sex once, Elsie,” you reminded. “And it didn’t involve any of that BDSM shit. I’d rather not be compared to that novel, by the way. There are much better books with much better smut.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” she nodded. Her lips curled like the Grinch. “And it sounds like you could write your very own at this point, bitch.”

“Stop,” you shoved her shoulder. “It’s not even. . . It’s not anything. It shouldn’t happen again anyway. I need to just forget about it.”

All of that was a fucking lie. You wanted it to happen again. You never wanted to forget about it.

And it definitely wasn’t nothing.

And Elsie knew it. She growled, shifting up, standing from the ground. Her fists were curled. “Stop being a fucking idiot, y/n! Stop lying to yourself!”

“Idiot?! I’m not being—.”

She held up a finger to stop you. And you weren’t about to say any more. She looked determined to get her piece said.

“And it does mean something. You need to stop sulking and just have regular incredible sex with him,” she placed her clenched fists on her hips, her icy blue gaze penetrating your most stubborn thoughts. “Dammit, sis. Why are you being so obtuse about this?!”

You shrunk back, thinking of all she said. Your chest tightened. “There’s just so much at stake,” your regular thoughts invading. “And he’s inconsistent as hell.”

“Is the possibility of what Josh would think still holding you back? Because who says he has to know? Just keep it between the two of you,” she tucked a loose hair behind her ear, a twinkle in her eye with her smirk. “And me.”

You scoffed. “You’re the idiot,” you remarked, pushing yourself up to stand and lean the backs of your thighs against the bed. Crossing your arms, you gave her a look at the mess inside your mind. “And yes. I cannot chance him finding out. . .knowing what he’d think. I wouldn’t want him to think any differently of me. I’m also stuck on not letting this get in the way—.”

“Get in the way of his dream, yada yada yada . . . On that same bullshit,” she leveled you with a straight stare. “You know what I think of all that.”

“Yes, I do. But what if he does take it too far at some point? What if he lets his emotions become involved and it turns into more than what it is?” Well that was a new fear unlocked. And another was hurtling towards you. “What if I let the sex become more than sex?”

“Then you cut it off,” she reasoned, crossing her own arms. “Be friends with benefits. Don’t let feelings get involved. Have fun with it. . . Friends with benefits can be the best solution for two people dealing with stress,” a lightbulb went off in her head. “And when you’re friends with benefits, you don’t have to be consistent. So he’s good there.”

But what if you wanted him to be more consistent?

The nagging voice in your head came to life suddenly. No, y/n, you don’t care about that. Quit it.

You shook your head, ignoring it. “We aren’t friends,” you corrected.

“Even better.”

“And what am I stressed with?” You asked, knowing every single tiny thing that had been lurking in your mind as of late.

School. What you were going to do with life after school. Your mother.

And, of course, your gorgeous roommate.

But right now, it seemed awfully appealing to just drown it all out with sex. . . Toe-curling, back arching sex with said roommate.

“Something apparently,” she cut through your thoughts. “I don’t know what all is haunting your every thought, but it can’t be fun to live with. And I think letting yourself have something you want—which is obviously Jake’s dick—.”

“Elsie!”

“What?! You do! Let me finish,” she continued. “Letting yourself have something you want would be enough to ease some tension. Just give in. Don’t add one more thing to your plate to stress about when you could just let loose. Have fun while you’re still young and in college. It’s not as easy once it’s all over.”

Your eyes widened, as if she’d unlocked something in your brain. You were only young once.

The idea felt a little more acceptable.

The idea of just fucking him. Just enough to ease stress. Nothing more.

It would feel divine to let loose.

You craved it. You needed that release.

And you only wanted it from him.

How did Elsie do that? Just flip a switch and make you consider something?

She is the only person in your entire life that you quite literally trust with everything, that’s how, the sweet voice in your thoughts reminded you. She’s never let you down.

And so you decided.

“It really wouldn’t hurt anything, you think?”

“Not if you cut things off before you’re more than just friends—excuse me, not friends— having sex,” Elsie reminded. She added with annoyance, “Since you seem so set on a relationship distracting Jake from his dream, that’s what you’d have to do,” her voice softened. “Sex isn’t going to distract him. In fact, it may inspire him even more. Just look at it as you doing him—and yourself— a major service.”

“How do I make sure he knows it can’t go any further than sex?”

And once again, her stare flattened. Damn. Her being annoyed with you was becoming a recurring theme.

“Just. Fucking. Talk. To. Him,” she started walking towards your door, twisting the knob to open it. She looked back at you, with a stern look. “Let him in. Be open to the idea of letting him in just a little more. It’ll be okay. I promise.”

And for the first time since he’d moved in and uprooted everything in your godforsaken life, you felt reassured.

Felt okay with what you’d wanted from him for a very long time.

-🌼🌼🌼-

It was late when your eyes flicked open. You were still sprawled on the couch, where you and Elsie had crashed while watching Friends.

You blinked into the darkness, only lit up by the blue hues of the television.

Elsie was snoring at the other end of the couch, your feet tangled together under a fluffy blanket. The pizza box from the pizza you’d decided to order (and devoured), still laying out on the coffee table.

Before long, you knew what’d awoken you. The overwhelming need to pee was pushing against your bladder.

Still half asleep, you clambered up from the couch, careful not to wake your sister. You glanced at the bright green lettering displaying the time on the microwave.

2:38 a.m.

Shit. You couldn’t even remember when you two had fallen asleep.

When you got to the bathroom, you were caught off guard.

Was that water running? Had Elsie left the sink on?

You scrunched your brows, twisting the knob and pushing the door open to find the sink was on.

But also finding a very naked Jake using said sink. His long wet hair sticking to his damp skin.

Heat immediately flooded to the bottom of your belly and between your thighs.

You couldn’t help but admire his physique. Right there in front of you. His broad shoulders, looking freshly tanned and freckled from the sun. His waist begging to have your arms wrapped around it.

And his thick cock, impressive even when soft.

Damn this man.

But—

“Why are you home?!” You started with an edge in your tone, for no reason whatsoever. You didn’t fucking care that he was home. In fact, you wanted him here. There was no reason to question.

He was brushing his teeth, so he didn’t respond, instead his dark eyes connected with yours in the mirror. He raised a brow, seeming to challenge your words.

Your body reacted to his facial expression. Your tummy erupted in butterflies.

“Don’t lift your damn eyebrow at me,” you said quietly, letting your feet guide you further into the muggy room, closing the door softly behind you.

Jake eyed you curiously in the mirror, looking slightly surprised at what you were doing. But before too long, his gaze became sultry, luring you in further. He turned towards you, locking his deep brown irises with yours. Then, he raised his brow again, playing with you.

In the back of your mind, all you could hear were Elsie’s words:

Let loose.

So, without really thinking—more-so giving into the moment—, you sank to your knees in front of him.

You could play with him, too.

As if he knew what you were getting ready to do, he was already half-hard by the time you were holding him in your hand.

Your hand gripped him softly, feeling him. How soft the skin was, stretched over his pulsing member. His pink head, equally as soft, already produced glistening precum.

Running a thumb over the slit at the tip, you spread the release over his entire tip. Jake’s hips twitched towards you at that, and you heard a moan emit from the back of his throat.

A hand combed through your hair and tightening it in your locks to indicate he needed you to pause. You peered up at him, seeing him nod toward the sink. You stopped your movements, but kept your hand wrapped around his dick, squeezing a time or two as you let him spit and rinse in the sink.

Jake’s lids closed, head lolling back. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed in pleasure, wiping his mouth with the washcloth he’d placed next to the sink.

You continued your teasing movements and pulled another close-mouthed groan from him, the sound making wetness gather between your legs.

And before long, he was turning all the way around, letting the backs of his thighs hit the front of the bathroom counter. He let his open palms rest on the countertop, his thighs tense and ready for you to continue.

Looking up to see his face again, you saw him nod down at you, in your direction this time.

“Keep going,” he commanded in his low tone.

Your skin heated, and you had to push your thighs together as you went back in. Your hands stayed on the tops of your clenched thighs.

You added your mouth this time, closing your lips around the top half of his pretty cock to savor him with a moan that vibrated around his thickness. He jerked his hips towards you harshly.

“Shit,” he groaned.

You went further down his shaft, letting your wet mouth envelop him almost entirely, then you slid back up, letting your tongue smooth along the underside of his dick. When you made it back to his tip, you curled your tongue to trace the crease at the base of his head.

He shuddered, a hand finding your hair again. You went to grab his thigh with one of your hands to steady yourself, the other hand grasping at his smooth balls. You felt more wetness gather at your thighs at how incredibly groomed he was.

You’d never been with someone who paid such close attention to taking care of himself.

Massaging his balls in your hand, you held tightly to his thigh as your mouth made its way back down his length. This time, you went all the way to the end, your mouth just barely connecting with his tanned and toned stomach. The muscles there clenched as you felt his tip connect with the back of your throat.

You felt tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, but didn’t gag as you showed him one of your most secret party tricks.

He tensed more, and you felt the hard muscle of his thigh tighten impossibly beneath your hand.

“Fuuuuuck, y/n. How —? Your mouth—your fucking throat—shiiiit. . .,” he practically whined out, shifting his hips up so his cock smoothed ever-deeper down your waiting throat. You sucked on him the best you could from your position, your wet mouth tightening around him. He whimpered, a sigh leaving his mouth. “Feels so fucking—mmm,” he tangled a hand in your hair once more, bringing you closer into him.

You glanced up to admire what he looked like at that moment. His head was tossed back and all you could see was his glistening throat, his drying hair sticking to it. The columns of his throat were strong, bulging as he continued to give tiny little thrusts, replying to the hold you had on him with your mouth and throat.

But when he glanced down, his hooded lids revealed hungry eyes, the blacks of his pupils covering almost his entire iris. . . You realized you wanted—no, needed— more.

So, as much as you could handle this, you decided in order to use your tongue on him, and taste him like you wanted, you had to readjust.

You used the hand on his thigh to trail up to his hip and gripped him there, releasing a noise to let him know you were moving. You slid your mouth back down him, his tip nudging against your uvula as it left its tight, cozy spot at the top of your throat.

The sound that came from him was a combination of a sigh, a gasp, and a whine.

Shit.

Your body’s reaction to his sounds, the feeling of him gliding on your tongue. . .it made moisture gather on the insides of your thighs, still pushed tight together.

You were feeling all of the effects of the situation. It was fucking glorious. Having him at your mercy, snug in your mouth.

You rubbed your thighs together the best you could to create the friction you needed, your arousal slick between them.

You released the smallest cry from your mouth, the sound muffled around his hardness. It felt good to relieve some of the tension. But you needed more.

Fuck. You loved getting to hold him in your mouth, but. . .

Your pussy was aching for him.

As if reading your thoughts, before you knew it, your mouth was being pulled the rest of the way from Jake’s hard dick. His hands used their place in your hair to gently remove you.

Once he’d removed himself from your mouth, Jake yanked you up by your armpits. He held your sides and once again surprised you with his strength when he lifted you to sit atop the sink.

It was so reminiscent to your night in the bathroom last week, but this time. . .fuck— it was about to be so much better.

He tapped the slightest bit against your hip, and you knew what it was he wanted. You lifted your hips, quickly sashaying out of your thong and small pair of sweatshorts you’d absolutely worn in the hopes he’d see you in them.

Being caught by Elsie earlier had made you fully realize that it was something you’d started doing absentmindedly within the past month. You fucking loved it when you’d catch him looking at you. . .the fleeting glances he’d think you didn’t see.

His little peeks at the curve of your ass, peeking out from the hem of your shorts.

Finally, you took off your oversized cropped T-shirt, revealing to him your lack of bra. And his dark pupils overtook the entirety of his chocolate irises.

Your nipples hardened even more under his wanting stare.

“I take my bra off when I go to sleep,” you added, for no reason whatsoever. You were obviously still tired (and a little bit nervous), saying nonsense. “You didn’t need to know that, sorry.”

He grinned, his eyes softening the slightest bit. “I like knowing little things like that about you.”

Your insides became mush at his words for some reason, your arousal peaking.

He placed one hand on your breast, massaging the soft flesh in his palm. You both looked down at it, admiring the way it looked as he held it. The feeling of your hardened nipple rolling against the palm of his hand was almost too much. You bucked up into the air.

So, sensing your need, he released your breast and moved the same hand to momentarily hold and caress your cheek. Your lusty gazes entwined, seeing each other.

He was so handsome.

And lately, you’d come to realize that you felt truly seen anytime he was looking at you.

This moment was soft, his other hand going to grasp your hip, holding you in place. He nudged between your wet folds with the head of his dick, waiting on you. You shifted your hips to welcome him.

Then, without any more warning, he slammed into you, your ass shifting on the porcelain of the sink in the counter. You’d totally forgotten about your sister in the living room and released a loud yelp, followed by a pleased moan at the feeling of him.

Filling you up so well.

He shushed you, then pressed his mouth to yours to take in your satisfied, hungry sounds. His tongue entered your mouth, swallowing up every noise you made.

He stayed inside you, pounding into you relentlessly, hitting every spot he somehow just knew existed. Your whines were persistent, barely able to be covered by his mouth.

So, when he came up for air, he placed his warm hand over your mouth, careful to not cover your nose. You sighed sadly at not being able to elicit the noises he brought out in you. You didn’t know why, but it felt right to be loud with him. The way he fucked you—the action itself demanded you be loud.

When you locked eyes with his pretty brown ones, yours were begging and desperate to let him hear you. He acknowledged you with an, “I know,” right before you rutted your hips up to meet his, and he met your movement with one of his own, harder. You whined behind his hand, biting at the flesh. He bit his lip, his eyes darkening. “Fuck,” he groaned. “I wanna hear you. But your sister is in the other room. We need to be quiet.”

Oh. You blanched at that. You hadn’t necessarily forgotten about her, but everything outside of this bathroom had ceased to exist when you’d walked in and seen him bare ass naked.

You weren’t ready to be done with this, but you knew it wasn’t proper etiquette to be in here, fucking your roommate, with someone on the next room.

Even though you wanted to just say ‘fuck it’, him reminding you of Elsie also reminded you of your urge to pee. And you really weren’t prepared for her to catch you in the midst of the act.

You’d never live that down.

“Then finish the fuck up so I don’t have to worry about it,” you decided to sass in response, rocking your hips in little figure eights to entice him. “Finish it.”

Jake’s features quickly shifted from soft and understanding to something much darker, making your pussy get even wetter around his thick shaft.

His head bent back a bit, his stern eyes staying firmly on you. “One of these days, you’ll learn that you don’t always get to call the fucking shots.”

Your heart raced at his words, chest rising and falling with labored breaths. But you weren’t about to let him have the final say.

“If you want to finish fucking me, you have five minutes,” you said, not meaning the words in the slightest. “So hurry,” rock. “The fuck,” rock. “Up.”

And with your last word, he met your thrust harshly with a growl from low in his throat. Your head flew back, his hand going flat, just in time, against the mirror so you’d hit the back of his hand instead of the glass.

You bit your lip to mask a whine at the sensation of his tip repeatedly hitting your g-spot.

With every jut of his hips, you saw stars. The feeling of his sharp, purposeful thrusts, your head hitting his hand with each one. He’d slide almost all the way out, and then all the way back in.

Your lip was near bleeding with how hard you were biting into it.

And suddenly, you felt the familiar unwinding of the tight ball in your stomach, letting way to your sweet relief of release.

It was spiraling towards you. . .his thrusts never let up, his hard cock never leaving you all the way.

You were not ready for it to be over. But with one final, purposeful rut of his hips, his tip connected especially hard with your secret spot and you felt the ball unwind. You pinched your eyes shut, throwing your head back, your legs tensing, as your back arched. You instinctively went to wrap your quivering legs around his hips to hold him to you as it washed over you.

All you saw were bright, blinking stars against a black sky. And Jake. So much Jake.

“Fuck!”

His voice snapped you out of your trance, along with him tapping earnestly at your thigh, and quickly you let him untangle himself as you knew what was coming.

And as soon as he’d pulled his throbbing cock out of you, he was grabbing the washcloth that was still on the counter, sitting next to you, making a mess of his cum into it.

You were still too out of it to look at his face as he came, your fucked out daze locking you in on watching how his pretty dick pulsed against the towel, releasing. Your lip was still being held between your teeth in a tight grip, observing this sexy display in front of you.

When he finished taking care of himself, wiping off into the towel, you snapped out of watching him. The need to pee, nudging at your bladder again with a vengeance.

You shoved him away from where he was standing in front of you.

“Okay, now leave,” you continued to push him to the door. “I have to pee.”

And, shockingly, without protest, he was gone. His brown eyes had been blissed out, a soft smile on his features as he flitted out.

When you were finally sitting on the toilet, feeling the relief you’d needed so desperately from your bladder, you sighed happily.

I could get used to this regular sex with Jake thing, you thought, a satisfied smirk settling on your lips.

Then, as you washed your hands over the sink Jake had just fucked you on, an idea came to you.

And maybe some rules will keep us in line. Rules will help. They always help.

-🌼🌼🌼-

a/n: i'm so ready to share M O R E (the rest of this chapter is...... eeeek!!)... please let me know your thoughts! you know i love hearing from you all :) <3

(do you think you know now what's going to turn Reader's life upside down?)

if you’d like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

& as usual, it wouldn’t let me tag some of y’all. :( so please check to see that you’re down there because if you’ve asked to be on the taglist, i tried to tag you. buuuut tumblr wouldn’t let me do it for everyone 🙃 ugh. and if i somehow forgot to tag someone, please also let me know that! (i'm a NOOB and i have terrible memory)

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