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#so somehow they don't count to my brain
viric-dreams · 4 months
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OPBR (Ockham's Parabolan Blunt Rotation) at least now mostly exists in its barest bones.
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13lov · 8 months
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tethered. | jjk
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Love notes were slipped into your locker on a daily basis. Variations of messy, boyish handwriting on yellow sticky notes stacked upon themselves by the end of each school day. Every Friday night you were invited out with the promise of "You'll have fun, just give it a chance."
You could have any guy you wanted, no doubt about it. Yet somehow, the only one you do want is the tattooed, gothic one that lives a few doors down from your best friend.
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✰ pairing. — emo!jk x reader
✰ genre. — early 2000s au, best friend's older brother, childhood friends to lovers, smut, light angst.
✰ word count. — 7k+
✰ warnings. — swearing, family issues, partying, mentions of drinking/drugs, friendship betrayel (?), smut [virginity loss, teasing, fingering, soft dom!jk, "i've waited so long for this" type shit], reader and jk are both 18+, minors dni.
✰ a/n. really love this pairings and would love to have drabbles with them in the future, so pls lmk if u guys would be interested in that! thanks for all the love on the teaser, hope u enjoy! <3
✰ taglist. @ahgasegotarmy116 @hellbornsworld @kissyfacekoo @littlestarstinyseven @skzthinker
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Two monumental events had been etched into your brain for eternity, the first being sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet up with your friends at the community pool. The second is fifteen minutes upon arriving at the pool, seeing your best friend's older brother emerge from the chlorine-scented water as if he were Poseidon and realizing you were utterly infatuated by him. 
Jeon Somi isn't blind to this, immediately pulling you away from the crowd to question the longing gaze on your face. "Out of every fucking guy here with us, you're making eyes at my brother? You do know that Jungkook is completely gross, right?" She was so furious, you're surprised no steam was blowing from her ears.
Deny it all you want (and you certainly did within that fifteen-minute interrogation); Jungkook very clearly had a hold on you that lasted many years following that fateful night. He wasn't even your usual type; he wouldn't be caught dead around the guys you're typically drawn to. He had a rebellious side; maybe that's why getting him out of your head was nearly impossible. 
Of course, the eternal guilt of falling for your best friend's older, dumbass brother is also difficult to get out of your head.
It can't be helped, really. Anytime you'd visit their home, your eyes would automatically wander through the crack of his doorway as you'd pass by. Whether he was messily cutting his dark hair while blasting Pierce the Veil from his speakers or giving himself a new Stick-and-Poke tattoo as he waited for a CD to finish burning, you long to break away from Somi for a moment to speak to him. Ask him about his day or if his band had any upcoming gigs. You'd even talk to him about paint drying if it meant you'd get to be in the same space as him. 
So it's safe to say you were completely heartbroken when he left for college. Somi, however, is over the moon. Or so you think.
"… He's your brother, though. You don't think you're gonna miss him at all?" You ask, watching Somi delicately paint your fingernails a pretty shade of purple.
She shrugs, "I mean… it's definitely gonna be weird not seeing him around the house every day, but he'll still visit sometimes. Maybe."
Deep down, Somi knows Jungkook won't visit much. He'd been craving freedom and independence from their parents for ages, and moving away for college gave him the perfect opportunity to live as he pleased. They weren't fond of the clothes he wore or the friends he had, and absolutely couldn't bear the music his band makes. They criticized every little thing about him, and he'd finally be getting a break from them.
As you're about to ask Somi if she's okay, she stands from her bed, screwing the nail polish closed. "I'll be back. I have to let Bam out." Her voice is shaky, and she doesn't look at you as she exits the room.
You take the opportunity to make your way down the hall and to Jungkook's door, which he has conveniently left wide open as he scrolls on his desktop. His knees are pressed against his chest as he's heavily focused on editing his Facebook page. There's a rock song playing lightly from another tab that you can't quite identify; he uses his free hand to gently tap along to the beat of the music.
His room is covered in cardboard boxes, soon to be packed into his parents' minivan and making their way to the University of San Francisco dorms.
Your knuckles tap on his wooden door, your heart fluttering when he turns around, and you realize he's changed the ring on his lip from black to silver.
He nods at you, "What's up?"
"Nothing. I just know you're leaving in the morning, and I wanted to say bye. And wish you good luck, of course." You're not sure why you're so heartbroken. It's not like the two of you were ever a thing. It's not like this would be your last time seeing him. Why were you so upset?
"Cool, thanks." You assume that was his way of indirectly telling you to get out until he reaches into his desk drawer and says, "Catch," before tossing something towards you.
Careful not to mess up your manicure, you easily catch the item, unfolding what appears to be a purple bandanna. "What's this for?" You ask, inspecting the material in your palms.
"To remember me by, duh. Plus, it matches your nails.”
It'd be silly to tell him you genuinely don't need this because there was no way in hell you could ever forget about him. Instead, you clutch the bandana tightly in your fist and make a silent vow to keep it with you at all times; have a piece of him with you at all times.
You thank him and tell him it's nice, but all you can wonder is why he even wants you to remember him in the first place. Maybe you're overthinking. He probably just didn't care for the useless accessory anymore.
When you turn to leave, Jungkook stops you with a gentle call of your name. He turns his head in your direction, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth. "Can I tell you something?"
"Anything." You whisper back, praying you don't sound overly desperate for a more extended interaction with him.
A beat of silence passes, and just as he opens his mouth to respond, Somi is stomping up the stairs and belting out your name. You gaze away from Jungkook to glance behind you, listening as his sister shouts about doing each other's makeup.
"Never mind, actually. It's not important." Jungkook interrupts, and you physically feel your heart sink to the floor.
You're about to be annoying and pry a response out of him until your eyes dart to his floor, and you see it. What slipped out from his drawer when he tossed the bandana at you. 
A condom wrapper. An empty one, at that.
It's embarrassing how quickly your vision becomes glossy, salty tears threatening to release with each passing second. Of course, he's fucking someone. Of course, that person isn't you. Of fucking course.
You shouldn't be surprised; he's probably more into girls with a similar aesthetic. She's probably covered in tattoos and piercings, just like him. She's probably older than you and may even have her own car, unlike you, who still had to catch rides with your parents or older sister. 
It's odd, though. You're not entirely naive; you know Jungkook definitely flirts with you here and there, catching his eye when his gaze lingers on you for a second too long. There's a noticeable tension between the two of you that even your parents have teased about. And this whole time, he's been screwing someone else?
Jungkook hangs out with so many girls it'd be useless to even attempt to uncover who this mystery person is. It's none of your business, anyway. 
So you leave.
You tell Somi you'll get grounded if you're home past curfew, and with tear-stained cheeks, you run home.
The following day isn't any easier.
Somi posted a photo on FaceBook of herself and Jungkook posing together, arms wrapped around each other, with the caption "c u l8r alligator XD". The comments are already flooded with responses wishing Jungkook farewell, some from family members or friends of the siblings.
"Don't 4get abt me!!!!!! >:( "from a girl with red hair catches your eye because it's the only one Jungkook responded to. You can't bring yourself to read his full reply, fingers moving to quickly close the tab after seeing the word 'Never.'
It's probably her, you think to yourself, the one he's sleeping with.
Maybe it's for the best that Jungkook's moving away; it'll give you some time to get over him. 
And you most certainly did.
The only time he ever crosses your mind is when Somi brings him up (which she rarely does) or when you pass by his empty bedroom. Deep down, you know you'll always care for Jungkook on some level, but time away from him was just what you needed. You were too attached to him for no fathomable reason, rejecting any guy interested in you with the premise of being loyal to a guy who didn't even want you. He'd probably been sneaking girls in through his window, with you a few doors down doing magazine quizzes with his sister; blissfully unaware of what was happening down the hall.
You’re better off without him.
That's what you've been telling yourself daily until now. It's the start of summer vacation, and Jungkook's been summoned home to spend it with his family before Somi (and you) transfer to the University of San Francisco. 
Jungkook was hesitant about coming home, as he always is. In constant fear that his parents have some elaborate plan for him to change his major or set him up with someone they deem acceptable, nothing like the girls he hangs around and probably invites back to his dorm.
It took days of convincing until Jungkook finally agreed to come home, under the premise that his parents' intentions were pure and that they simply wanted one last summer together before Somi moved away for college. They also hoped he'd be able to house-sit and watch over Somi for a few days as they took their annual anniversary trip to San Diego. That, however, took some bribing and the promise of gas money on their end.
He's not due to arrive until tomorrow morning, and you've convinced yourself there's no reason for you to see him right away. You'd be fine if the next time you saw him was in a few months as you're moving into your dorm. After years of longing, you've finally moved on from him.
Some of you have debated telling Somi about your past feelings for her brother, but there's no point. It was a one-sided relationship with absolutely zero depth, nothing worth discussing. So when she nudges your side and asks if you're interested in anyone, you reply with a shake of your head.
Somi has no reaction to this; she can't remember the last time you've been into anyone despite having the entire male population at your school practically throwing themselves at you. "Maybe you'll meet someone tonight."
She's referencing the house party you're going to, which she practically had to drag you out of your room to attend. Parties are different from your scene, especially on a day like today when you were hoping to have a girls' night with Somi. She had other plans, however.
"Maybe," you respond, sighing as the house you're attending is finally in your viewpoint. "We're not staying long, right? It looks packed."
Cars are parked throughout the street, one house, in particular, being the center of attention with loud music and drunk people decorating the front yard of a suburban-looking home. Somi looks as ecstatic as ever, looping her arm in yours and picking up her pace. She doesn't respond. It doesn't matter. Her response would've disregarded your concern.
One car catches your eye as you enter the unfamiliar house; it's parked towards the end of the street, and you swear you've been in it before. You're not able to dwell on it for too long, though, because Somi has to practically yank you through the front door.
Your nerves are at an all-time high. The music is entirely too loud, and there isn't a single sober person in sight. You're not sure how Somi even found out about this party, but you really wish she would've left you out of it. You'd go now if it were acceptable, but Somi would've stayed regardless, and you refuse to leave her alone. So, you push your feelings to the side and take her hand as she leads you towards the kitchen. 
"Thirsty?" Somi questions, forcing a red solo cup into your hand.
"Not at all," you respond, sighing as Somi pours something into your cup.
"It's just ginger ale," she reassures you, "I don't think either of us should get drunk here." For once, she's being reasonable.
Somi suggests you do a lap around the house in hopes of running into people you may have gone to school with. And to your surprise, a decent amount of your past classmates have decided to attend. You feel more at ease with them around, a bit more comfortable now that you're around recognizable people. Although you initially hesitated to show up, you're glad you did. 
"Anybody catch your eye yet? Or are you still breaking hearts?" Your old classmate, Yeoreum, questions.
You shake your head, about to explain that you're not interested in dating right now, until she gestures behind you. "That guy is pretty cute."
You shift on the couch, looking around until you spot who Yeoreum had been gesturing towards. You locate him finally, and she's right; he is cute. He just seems so familiar.
That's when it hits you.
"Oh my God," you whisper, eyes locked on him, and you slowly rise from the couch.
It's Jungkook. And the car you recognized was his. He's here. What is he doing here? He isn't due to be back until tomorrow morning.
You almost don't realize it's him until you spot the mole under his lip. He's grown his hair out and stopped dyeing it, the slew of tattoos that decorated his arm (God, did he start working out, too?) nicely connected, now creating a sleeve, and he's given himself an eyebrow piercing. Your feelings for him come rushing back in full force.
Panicked, you reach for Somi's hand, but she's nowhere to be found. Careful not to be seen by her brother, you bow your head slightly, passing through a crowd of sweaty bodies until you finally spot her kitty heels. She's leaned against a wall, swirling around her cup while flirting with some guy you'd seen around school a few times.
Creating some much-needed distance between the two, you tug Somi towards you. "I think I just saw your brother."
"What? No, he won't even be in the city until tomorrow morning." 
Frustrated, you quickly search the crowd until your eyes land on him again. You ignore the fact that he's now speaking to some girl with red hair and tattoos scattered across her arm and point in their direction, "Well, then that guy looks just like him."
Somi squints her eyes in disbelief at the boy in question until the doubt becomes confusion, and the confusion becomes realization. "Oh my God! The fuck is he doing here?" She turns towards you as if you're supposed to have the answer.
"The fuck should I know? You said he wouldn't be here until tomorrow morning!"
"Because that's what he told our parents! How was I supposed to know he was gonna be here? I never would've come if I knew!"
"What are you guys doing here?" A voice you haven't heard in so long interrupts. You don't even want to turn around.
"What are you doing here?" Somi throws back, and the two stare at each other in angry silence for a moment until Jungkook steps to the side. "Upstairs," he says, nodding towards the staircase.
"But—"
"Go."
Somi's clearly aggravated but makes her way towards the stairs. You remain in place with your arms crossed, raising a brow in confusion when Jungkook looks at you. "What?"
"You too."
"I'm not—"
"I'm not asking again," he says simply. You convince yourself that you only take his command because you don't feel like fighting. Definitely not because it's interesting to have him boss you around.
Trudging up the stairs behind Somi, you wait with her in the hallway until Jungkook arrives. "Come on," he says, entering a bathroom and turning the light on. Neither you nor Somi protest; there really isn't any point.
As soon as the door is shut, Somi is yelling at the top of her lungs. "What the fuck are you doing here?! You said you wouldn't be back until tomorrow morning! Mom and Dad had to push their trip back just to give you more time to arrive, and you're already fucking here?! The fuck is the matter with you?!"
"I'm not gonna respond if you're gonna be yelling like this." Jungkook says calmly, leaning against the sink, "Let me get my questions out first, then I'll answer any of yours, deal?"
Somi glances over at you, sitting on the bathtub's edge, and you nod. She returns her attention back to Jungkook, takes a deep breath, then agrees. 
"Now, what are you guys doing here?! How'd you even get invited?! And you're drinking?!" The calm demeanor from earlier slips away in a matter of seconds, clearly a hoax just to get Somi to calm down enough to let him speak.
"It's just ginger ale, and we've barely even had any! We were invited by our friends, okay? We have just as much right to be here as you do."
Jungkook scoffs, clearly unamused. "Right, and I'm assuming Mom and Dad know you're here then, huh?"
Somi nervously tucks a hair behind her ear. You wonder why you even have to be in here with them. It's not like Jungkook is your brother, anyway. 
"We told our parents that we were going to a birthday party at a friend's house." Somi mumbles, barely able to look Jungkook in the eye.
"And what did they say when they dropped you guys off?"
"They didn't drop us off," you interrupt, "we walked here."
"Well, I wasn't gonna tell him that." Somi glares at you, it takes every bone in your body to not to laugh at her.
You're so over this. You didn't want to attend this dumb party in the first place, and seeing Jungkook flirting with some girl who could've been his female counterpart was the icing on the cake. It doesn't matter if your feelings for him were gone before tonight; every little emotion you'd felt for him over the years had returned (as if they ever left).
"And how exactly did you two geniuses plan on getting home?"
"Same way we got here."
"Can you please just let me handle this? Jesus Christ…" Somi shoots another frustrated glare at you, and you can't help but roll your eyes at her. She turns back towards her brother, "Can you answer my questions now?"
Jungkook's eyes anxiously dart around the cramped bathroom, landing on you a few times before he's slowly nodding his head. "Alright, Mom and Dad basically forced me to spend the whole summer here, and I kept asking myself why they were so persistent about it. They finally told me they needed me to watch over you and the house for their stupid trip. I had plans too, you know? That I had to derail for them. My band could've spent this summer touring, making real money, and now we can't. So, they wanna inconvenience me? I'll inconvenience them right back."
"…Inconvenience them by doing what?" Somi asks the exact question you had.
Jungkook shrugs, "By telling them I'm gonna be arriving a day late, duh."
You and Somi exchange an awkward glance at one other before silently agreeing not to tease him about it. If this was his badass way of retaliating, who were you to rain on his parade?
"Are you gonna tell anyone you saw us here?" Somi questions, a noticible tremble in her voice.
"As long as you guys don't tell anyone you saw me."
It's a fair trade, you accept it. You're even more delighted when Jungkook says he's taking the two of you home. Somi, however, isn't too happy about this, claiming there were so many people she didn't get to speak to, and how'd this be the last time she'd get to see them before moving away for school. You're not sure if Somi is really good at getting what she wants, or if Jungkook was tired of hearing her complain, but he finally gives in and grants her ten more minutes to socialize before meeting him at his car.
"If you're not at my car in ten minutes, I swear to God I'm calling mom." Jungkook scolds, holding the bathroom door open as the three of you finally exit.
A loud, drunk voice suddenly shouts, "Woah, Jungkook! Two girls at the same time!? You fucking beast!"
"They're my sisters, you fucking pervert!" He shouts back.
You can't even dwell on how disgusting the original comment was, only being able to focus on the fact that Jungkook just reffered to you as his sister. As conceited as it may sound, you're not used to rejection or guys putting you in the friend-zone. Whatever little game Jungkook had been playing with you over the years was completely new territory. And right when you think things couldn't possibly get any worse, he calls you his sister.
What the actual fuck.
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The next ten minutes go by in a blur; Somi has ditched you for a second time that night to talk to the guy from earlier. When it's finally time to leave, you find her Sat on his lap with her arm hung across his shoulder, laughing at an unfunny pickup line he'd used on her.
"It's time, Somi," you interrupt, helping her stand.
"Wait, wait, wait," she persists, directing her attention back to the boy, "tomorrow at five, right?"
"And not a second later." He sends her a disgusting wink that makes your skin crawl.
Somi is so love-struck you're surprised there isn't an arrow lodged in her back. She can barely form a proper sentence, erupting into a fit of giggles every few seconds as you make your way to Jungkook's car. "Wasn't he just gorgeous?"
You shrug, linking arms with her. "He was alright."
Stunned, Somi gasps at you, "Just alright? He was literally like a Greek God."
"I'm not saying he's unattractive; he's just...not really my type."
"And what is your type, Miss. Never-Has-Been-Interested-In-Anyone?"
Now, there's the question of the hour. You have to word your response very carefully; don't be too obvious about the fact that your ideal type is her older sibling. 
"I guess I prefer guys with an edgier look to them, you know? Tattoos, piercings..." Despite your attempt to sound as nonchalant as possible, your heart is beating out of your chest from the mild confession.
Somi snickers, then playfully groans. "It sounds like you're describing my brother."
Now, you really have to test the waters.
"Since you brought him up, would it be so bad if I did like Jungkook? Hypothetically speaking, of course." You're not sure what prompts you to even ask this. It's not like he's even interested in you; he literally just referred to you as his sister.
A beat of silence passes as Somi gathers her thoughts, then she says, "No."
"What?"
You've finally reached Jungkook's car at this point, beating him there. You sit atop the trunk, feet hovering above the ground as the cold, nighttime air swirls around you. Somi shakes her head, "Obviously, it wouldn't be the ideal situation, but I guess I wouldn't mind as long as you talked to me about it first."
"First?" You mimic.
"Like...assuming you'd wanna date him or something. Just so I'm not blindsided, you know?"
This is the last thing you would've expected your impulsive, hotheaded (yet oh-so-loveable) best friend to be reasonable about. Mainly because she lectured you for nearly twenty minutes when she first suspected you had a crush on Jungkook. 
You go to respond, but Jungkook, finally arriving at the car, captivates both of your attention. He finishes off his can of Pepsi before crushing the aluminum and tossing it to the ground. "Ready?" He questions.
There's no point in giving him a speech about littering; you're just ready to go home.
He fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks the car door; Somi opens the backseat and jumps in before you have the chance, sprawling across the aged leather. "Move over," you nudge her foot with your knee; she pulls away from you.
Jungkook calls your name, "Just sit up front. She's not gonna move."
Now, this is new. You've ridden in the backseat of his car with Somi more times than you can count; he'd never allow either of you to sit shotgun with him; typical annoying older brother bullshit.
Don't make a big deal out of this, you say to yourself, climbing into the passenger seat of his car.
Somi and Jungkook bicker the entire ride to their parent's house, partially out of annoyance with each other, but you also get the feeling that neither of them were genuinely ready to leave the party. You're surprised Jungkook even enjoyed parties; he spent most of high school either working, hanging out at skate parks, or practicing with his band in their garage. College must've really changed him, and you're unsure how to feel about it. 
Jungkook parks a few houses down from their parent's house and unlocks the doors, "Get out," he says into the backseat.
"Where are you gonna spend the night?" Somi questions, stretching her arms outward.
"I checked into a motel this morning. I'll be back here tomorrow around noon. And, hey," Jungkook turns around, pointing a finger at his sister. "Don't tell them you saw me."
Mockingly, Somi points a finger right back at him. "Telling them I saw you would be exposing myself, cock-sucker. Leave me alone." She angrily begins to climb out of the car, annoyed at how little trust Jungkook had in her.
You turn to go, but Jungkook's cold hand on your bicep stops you, "Where you goin'?"
"I'm gonna walk home from here. It's only a few minutes away," you respond.
Jungkook shakes his head, "I'm dropping you off. You haven't moved since I left, right?"
"No, but it's fi—"
"Then your house is on the way to my motel. We're going in the same direction; might as well ride together."
It truly does make more sense to ride together, and rejecting his offer any further surely would raise suspicions. You don't want either of them to believe you'd feel uncomfortable being alone with Jungkook because that couldn't be farther from the truth. You're perplexed about your feelings now, and you don't want to do anything you'd regret just because of the confusion.
"Okay, then." You glance over your shoulder at Somi, "Will you need any help getting ready for your date tomorrow?"
Suddenly embarrassed, Somi shushes you, gesturing that Jungkook is literally right next to you and would prefer that he didn't hear about her dating life. Jungkook genuinely couldn't care less and is instead patiently waiting for his sister to get out.
She does finally, and Jungkook resumes his path to your house. He turns the radio on, switching between stations until he stops on one that's playing a song he's familiar with. You drive silently for a few minutes; the only sounds being heard are the distant noises from the car's motor and Jungkook humming along to the radio.
He breaks the silence by saying, "I was surprised to see you back there. You never really seemed like the type to enjoy parties."
You chuckle, "I could say the same for you; I don't remember you attending any in high school."
"That's 'cause house parties weren't my thing," he explains, "I went to raves or parties that would happen at the skate park. I don't really like being at someone else's house for too long; it feels too intimate."
Now that you think of it, skate park parties and raves seem much more like his scene.
"Well, I only went because Somi was going, and I didn't feel comfortable with her being there alone. Otherwise, I never would've gone." You admit, resting your head against the window.
"Thanks for looking after her, by the way. You're a good friend."
"I'd do anything for her." Your voice is barely a whisper now, getting quieter with every word you say.
Silence passes, and he says, "Did you know your guys' dorm room is gonna be right under ours?"
"Seriously?" You respond, genuinely curious.
"Mmm-hmm. My roommate, Mingyu, and I are gonna be the worst upstairs neighbors ever." He teases as you roll your eyes. Your mind can't decipher whether this banter is playful & platonic or romantic. Everything Jungkook does confuses you.
"If that's the case, I'll be sure to move to an entirely new building."
"What, so you can have your boyfriend protect you?"
Pause. Boyfriend?
You nearly give yourself whiplash from how hard you spun around to look at Jungkook. "Boyfriend?" You ask.
He shrugs nonchalantly, keeping his eyes on the road. "I just assumed you'd have one by now. Do you?"
There he is again with his mind games. What the fuck was he talking about?
After letting out a very frustrated sigh, you mumble, "No, Jungkook, I do not have a boyfriend."
"Good. Focus on school."
Now he's pissing you off. You wish he'd shut up for the rest of the car ride. "It's nice to see you again, by the way."
Holy shit, you feel like jumping out the window.
"Yeah, great seeing you too. Oh, there's my house. I can walk from here." You make quick work of undoing your seatbelt.
"You sure? I can drop you off at the door."
"No, no. It's best if my parents don't see you so they don't accidentally tell your parents that they saw you." You lie, racking your brain for any excuse imaginable.
He nods, deciding it's best to drop you off a little further from your house. "Then, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"What?" You stop dead in your tracks, one hand clutching the door handle.
"Aren't you coming over tomorrow to help Somi get ready for her…thing? I'll be back home by then."
He's right; you'd be back in his house, and he'll be there this time. It's no big deal. You'd only be there for an hour (at most) to help her prepare, and then you could go the whole summer without seeing him again.
"Yeah, I'll see you then."
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The following day, Somi is back to her unreasonable self, expecting you to wait at her house for her to return from her date.
"Please? We're just going to get pizza; we won't even be gone that long." She pleads, adding the finishing touches to her makeup.
You'd already spent over an hour helping her prepare, and now she expects you to do nothing but await her return. You know her heart's in the right place; she just wants to be the first to hear all the exhilarating details about her date. Still, a phone call would suffice. 
"What am I supposed to do while I wait for you to come back?" You whine.
"Just hang out here! Watch a movie or something!" She suggests, trying her absolutely hardest to sound enthusiastic. Her phone buzzes in her hand before she has the chance to continue, eyes lighting up as they flicker across the bright screen.
Somi clutches her phone, locks eyes with you, then rushes towards the door. You're faster, though, quickly capturing her wrist before she's barely reached the hallway. "I'm going home."
"No! If you stay here, I'll bring you back pizza, and we can have a girls' night like we were supposed to yesterday! Come on, please?" She begs, pouting her lips.
You go to reply, but the bathroom door swings open, and Jungkook strides out. Just to your luck, he's shirtless; water droplets descend from his hair as he towel-dries it. As he enters his bedroom, he mocks his sister's high-pitched whine, earning a lethal glare and a slew of swears thrown at him.
Perhaps you should stay.
"Fine, but you're lending me your pajamas." You give in, earning an enthusiastic shriek from your best friend. 
Somi wraps you in a brief, yet tight, hug before shouting, "Be back soon!" Then she's rushing down the stairs and out the front door. It's not often that Somi makes you wait for her return, but you absolutely despise it whenever it does occur. She's never back by the time she promises and gets upset when you try to call and check up on her.
And speaking of calling, you're sure your phone is dead by now. You insisted Somi bring her's along just in case, so you're left with one option.
Jungkook's door is wide open (as usual) when you go to knock. He's fully clothed now, pairing his black sweatpants with a matching black t-shirt. His hair appears mostly dry now, chaotic as ever, but dry. You don't think he's ever looked this good before.
He's sat on his bed, flipping through the latest copy of Rolling Stone when you arrive. He glances over at you and lets out a dry chuckle.
"What's so funny?" You ask.
"You're dressed like Bella Swan." He responds casually, eyes raking up and down your body. 
"Who?"
"From Twilight. You know, that new movie that came out?" He seems genuinely surprised that you don't seem to know anything about this movie, not even the name of (who you suspect to be) the main character.
You lean against the doorframe, "Haven't seen it."
"It's a great movie, seriously. Some friends and I are seeing it in a few days if you and Somi wanna come." He suggests, flipping another page in the magazine.
You let him know you'll ask Somi if she's interested before remembering why you came to his room in the first place and ask if you can borrow his phone charger. Jungkook directs you to where it's plugged up by his desk, and you finally have the chance to stroll further into his room. You can't recall the last time you've been in here, but you know it looks much different than before. Many of the band posters that decorated the room were gone, his random trinkets and piles of clothes were gone, and not a single piece of his CD collection was in sight. It felt so lifeless, so unlike him. No wonder he always dreaded returning home; it probably didn't even feel like home to him.
"So," you say, attempting to break the silence, "you're here for the whole summer, huh?"
"Unfortunately." He mumbles, "Gonna try and go by sooner, convince my parents I have to sort out an issue with my dorm or something."
"It's nice to have you back, though." You admit, watching as Jungkook's gaze locks on yours.
"Yeah? It is?" He questions.
You shrug, "Of course. We practically grew up together; it was weird to not see you all the time."
He sits up now, closing the magazine and tossing it on his nightstand. There's something on his mind that he isn't saying; you can tell from the way his brows knit together and how he's anxiously tugging on his lip piercing. "It was weird to be gone," he mumbles and leaves it at that.
"By the way, I'm sorry about last night." He apologizes.
"For what? Calling me your sister?"
He laughs at this, shaking his head. "I didn't mean to do that on purpose, by the way. That guy was just...so weird, I kinda blurted out the first thing that would've made him feel weird for even thinking that."
Oh. That makes sense. You definitely overreacted. 
"I meant," he continues, "I'm sorry if the whole boyfriend assumption thing upset you."
"Oh," you dismissively wave a hand at him, "that was nothing."
Jungkook raises a brow at you, "Are you sure? 'Cause you seemed pretty upset afterward, you were practically running out of my car."
There's no point in lying now, considering you weren't even the slightest bit discrete the previous night.
"If I'm being completely honest, I just felt a little awkward. But that's it, I swear." You assure him, moving to lean against the bedside table.
"Awkward about what?"
God, this was so embarrassing. Is he really going to make you humiliate yourself like this?
"Because I've never actually had a boyfriend before."
Jungkook looks genuinely shocked at your confession, eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he examines yours for any sign of deception. "You don't believe me?"
"I'm not sure. I only assumed you had one just based on how crazy guys were about you in high school. Not to mention you're, like, fucking gorgeous."
What?
"I'm what?" You ask, not entirely sure if you heard him correctly.
He repeats himself again, and you make him do it a few more times until he's too embarrassed to say it again. You somehow manage to get back on the topic of never having a boyfriend before when Jungkook asks you another question. "Have you ever...?"
He doesn't need to finish the sentence. You know what he's asking.
You shake your head.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's none of my business." He berates himself, and you assure him it's no big deal and that it shouldn't even be a shocker to him.
After a half hour of talking about whatever comes to mind, you wind up sitting opposite Jungkook on his bed, legs perched up underneath your body as you go back and forth, questioning one another. 
"So, when are you gonna admit you had a crush on me?" His voice is barely a whisper.
"I never did." You lie.
"Really? That sucks?"
"Why?"
He shrugs, leaning his back against the headboard. "I just always thought that maybe you and I would've ended up together at some point."
You don't remember who leans in first; it doesn't matter; all that matters is after years of longing, your lips are finally intertwined with his. He must've smoked today; you can taste the nicotine on his breath. But it doesn't matter; you don't make the slightest move to pull away. Neither does he, placing his hands on the small of your back to guide you onto his lap. 
Your body is moving on autopilot, limbs moving to do whatever feels right as you silently pray not to ruin the moment. Jungkook can spot your nervousness from a mile away and stop you, "We don't have to do—"
"I want to," you pant, breathless, "I've wanted this for so long."
"Do you trust me?" He asks.
"More than anything."
He kisses you again before adjusting your current position, slowly twisting yourselves until you're lying flat on your back. He moves his lips down towards your neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his path as he settles between your legs.
You reach up to grab a handful of his hair, nearly jumping out of your skin as his delicate fingertips creep up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer until his ghosting over your clothed pussy. "This okay?" He mumbles.
You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Cute," he replies, "you're already so wet." His fingertips stroke your clit through your damp underwear; you don't think to wonder how he managed to get to it so quickly, all thoughts leaving your brain as he makes small circles using his middle and index finger. 
"Jungkook…" You moan, pleading for him to do more.
"I know." He assures you, using a single finger to pull your panties to the side, making just enough room for him to slide a finger into your aching cunt. "Am I really your first time?"
You nod again out of fear that a moan would slip from your lips if you even tried to speak. His eyes are locked on yours, studying your expression as he coaxes a finger inside you. You're embarrassed at how quickly your wetness coated his finger, but Jungkook doesn't care. He likes it, makes him feel fucking amazing knowing the effect he had on you. 
"Take your shirt off." He says, and you do as told, pulling your top up and off your body and tossing it to the floor; making quick work of undoing your bra before he even has the chance to ask.
His lips are back on your neck instantly, trailing down to your collarbone until he reaches the curve on your breast. He halts his actions momentarily before your pitched nipple is caught between his teeth and your back arching off the bed from how overstimulating everything feels.
You curse under your breath, and Jungkook makes another comment about how cute you are, though you feel far from it. He apologizes by lapping his tongue around your nipple, easing the pain slowly as he inserts a second finger into your cunt.
You can feel his bulge against your thigh, though he doesn't even care about getting himself off. He moves over to your nipple, licking and sucking until it's completely hardened, leaving himself breathless. The two fingers that had been working your cunt had picked up the pace now, and there was an unfamiliar feeling in your gut that you couldn't identify.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck…" You groan, legs trembling.
Jungkook is all too familiar with these actions and asks, "You're already close? I've barely done anything to you." He teases, chuckling to himself.
You know he's being lighthearted, but you can't help but feel embarrassed at the tears forming in your eyes from how good everything feels.
Suddenly, he's pulling his fingers out of you, and now you feel like crying for a different reason. You go to protest but stop to watch as he takes his shirt off. If you weren't sure then, it's obvious now he'd started attending the gym. 
He makes quick work of tugging his sweatpants down his legs, tossing them into the abyss before reaching into his bedside table and retrieving a condom. "You're okay?"
You nod.
"Use your words."
“I’m okay, Jungkook.”
"You're still okay with this?"
"Yes."
"You sure?"
Jesus fucking Christ, the saint this man is.
"I'm positive." You assure him.
You move to pull down your skirt and underwear, but Jungkook catches your wrist. "Leave them on," he says. There are so many things going on that you choose not to question.
He pulls off his boxers in the meantime, hardened cock slapping against his abdomen with precum leaking from the tip. Though you had nothing to compare it to, Jungkook was obviously slightly larger than average. You shouldn't be surprised; it's always the guys that you'd least expect.
He tears the condom wrapper with his teeth, retrieving the rubber inside before tossing the remains to his floor. Despite being fully erect, he fists his cock a few times before sliding the condom on.
He crawls over you, left arm at the side of his head, while he uses his dick to nudge your panties to the side. "This still okay?"
"I already told you—fuck!" He cuts you off, the tip of his cock slowly making its way inside you. You feel so stretched out from this alone you don't know how you'd manage to fit all of him into you.
Jungkook must be feeling the same, swearing under his breath and commenting about how tight you feel around him. Second by second, he coaxes himself into your pussy until you feel like you could split right open. "Are you all the way in?"
"No, can't take anymore?" He asks, leaning his head down against your ear.
You're embarrassed to admit he's too big to handle on your first time, but it's the truth. You don't want to overextend yourself just to please him and end up hurting yourself.
"You can move, just…not too much. Please."
Jungkook nods, "Whatever you want, angel."
He pulls his hips back and rocks himself back in, being sure to ask if you're okay with his pace. Once you confirm you feel fine and want him to keep going, he continues his movements; his eager hips snapping against yours and his cock hitting your G-spot with each deep stroke. You feel like you're on cloud nine, hands tangled in his hair as he swallows your moans.
That unfamiliar feeling from earlier returns; you feel it through your entire body this time. A moan of his name escaping your lips lets him know you're close. How he can always sense these things is beyond you; it's not worth overthinking. 
"Close?" He asks, and you nod frantically.
Jungkook picks up his speed slightly, careful not to overwhelm you, but just enough to reach your climax, until finally, the bundle of nerves in your abdomen snaps, and your back is arching off the mattress as you come around his cock.
He's only a few seconds behind with his orgasm, erupting in a loud grunt when he finally reaches it. The two of you lay in silence for a moment before Jungkook finally pulls out of you and slides the condom off, tying it in a knot and tossing it into his trash bin.
"Are you okay?" He asks for what feels like the millionth time.
"I'm fine." You respond, and it isn't a lie. Physically, you feel terrific; mentally, it was an entirely different story. "Are you?"
"I'm good, I'm good."
As much as you would love to lay naked with Jungkook in his bed for the rest of the night, you know Somi will be home anytime soon. "I think I'm gonna go wash up."
He nods, crawling under his covers once you stand from his bed, tugging your skirt to its proper length as you search for your remaining clothing. "Oh, it's um…your shirt, it's over there." Jungkook awkwardly gestures towards a pile of clothing by the end of his bed.
Almost as quickly as you shred yourself of them, you snatch your clothing and bundle them up against your chest. 
"Listen, I know right now isn't really ideal, but I meant what I said about liking you, and really think we should talk." He says nervously, barely even able to look at you.
You almost want to laugh at how cute he is; instead, you agree to talk to him about it soon. You're about to head out into the hallway when Jungkook reminds you about your charging phone over by his desk.
You retrieve it and scan the area again, ensuring you haven't left anything else behind. When everything seems clear, you stand upright, but your eyes fall toward the trash bin near his window with the discarded condom. You're embarrassed to even look at it until you realize something seems off. It looks…empty. 
Now, you're no sex expert, but imagine that if Jungkook had finished, there'd be something to show for it in the condom. Right?
Did he fake his orgasm? Was this another one of his fucked up mind games you'd been subjected to? 
You don't know what to think as you step into the bathroom; your emotions are all over the place, and all you really want to do is go home. But you promised Somi you'd be here when she returns, so you stay.
The next time a Jeon sibling asks if you're okay is twenty minutes later when Somi finally arrives and asks why your eyes are so watery.
"I'm fine." You respond, and you're lying for the first time that night.
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gojonanami · 6 months
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JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY.
↳ JJK MEN: HOW THEY FUCK YOU WHEN THEY'RE JEALOUS
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↳ feat. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, choso kamo, yuta okkotsu
cw: 18+ only, nsfw, overstimulation (f!), dick drunk, orgasm delay (f!), riding, semi-exhibitionism, spanking, teasing, dom! geto, soft dom! nanami, breeding, body worship, pleasure dom! choso, unprotected sex, creampie, marking, oral (f!), fingering (f!), facesitting (f!), marking (f!), geto uses the term "monkeys," degradation (slut) in geto's blurb, ijichi and ino mentioned in gojo's and choso's blurbs respectively, a/n: the only way to read the title is to the tune of olivia rodrigo's song. also its my first time writing yuta - be gentle.
SATORU GOJO | overstimulation, dick drunk, orgasm delay
jealous of laughing at another's joke
"T-Toru, ngh, please, I can't—" and you're only met with a laugh, his lips pressed against your neck, as his cock continued to fuck you.
How many times had you cum? You had lost count. Your cunt was soaked with your release, along with your thighs and his cock, slipping down his skin as he fucked you hard and fast.
He was relentless, maybe limitless, especially today.
"You can handle it, sweetheart, know this little cunt can take it," he's grunting, as his fingers dig into your plush thighs, "haven't broken this pussy yet," and you couldn't bring yourself to be concerned about the "yet" as he brought you to cum yet again, and you were sure if every word hadn't been fucked out of your brain— it had now.
Your eyes were glazed over, fucked out, as you stared up at him, as only pauses a moment, to press your thighs to your chest, "gonna fuck you right, baby, gotta kiss your womb," and you're whining, and he's only pistoning in deeper, "not so funny now huh?" he's hissing as you grow even fuckin' tighter — how was that possible?
"what are you—" and you whine as his tip grazes even deeper, and you're sure he's somehow fucking your stomach now, "are you jealous of Ijichi?"
"Don't say his name," he gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips to punctuate his point, drawing another squeal from your lips, and yet he's the one who brings him up, "fuckin' laughing at his joke like I wasn't even there. He isn't funny. Nowhere as funny as me!" and you're already close again, tears pooling in your eyes, as you stammer.
Was he really that upset because you laughed at an old friend's bad joke?
"Toru, a-are you serious—" and he's slowing down now to a tortuous pace, as you whimper, "baby, he just made a joke, I was being polite," you can't even laugh at how ridiculous it is with how badly you want to cum.
"Only i'm supposed to see that smile, that laugh," and he's teasing you with the tip of his cock now, dragging it in teasing circles around your clit, "you're mine, mine to make smile, make to make laugh, mine to fuck," and he's fucking you again, bottoming out in one thrust, "say it, baby, tell me who you belong to,"
And your back is arching, throat raw as you tell him just how much he owns you, as you orgasm for the nth time, and he's not far behind, his hot release spurting into your needy cunt, as he fucks it only deeper.
"Toru," you moan again, "Toru, fuck," you murmur, fucked dumb by his dick, as you both come down from your highs, "were you really that jealous of—"
And he only pouts, pressing his lips to yours again, "Don't say his name," and he's pressing needy kisses to your neck, as he pulls out, your mixed cum leaking out, before he's slipping two fingers in, pulling another moan from your lips, "by the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember his name."
SUGURU GETO | riding, semi-exhibitionism, dom!geto, spanking, degradation (slut)
jealous of you talking about someone else
"Princess, you can do better than that," Suguru is clicking his tongue, as you split yourself open on his cock, warm walls squeezing all too deliciously around his already drenched dick, as only whines and pants left your kiss ruined lips, "gonna have to be quieter than that if you don't want someone else to hear—"
He had you riding him in a side room of a temple he used often to collect money, some his other followers congregated in the room over to hear him "preach of the new world." Bullshit that he fed to monkeys that made them full and happy and complacent -- but right now, he had something else that was making you feel so full.
"C'mon baby, ride me like you mean it," he coos, and his hand is coming down on your ass with a mean spank to your already sore ass, heat blooming from the impact, "you certainly had plenty of effort when you were sweet-talking those damn monkeys, didn't you?"
"Sugu, I was just trying to help," you whine, as his hips snap against yours, making you squeal, as he finds his way even deeper into your already fucked out cunt, "I just was--"
"You were flirting," he hisses, as his hands find their way to your hips, forcing you to meet his upward thrusts, as your hands cover your mouth to muffle your moans, "you love this, love it when I fuck you like this, think you want them to see you like this, grinding on my cock like a slut," you whine, but his words only makes your sweet cunt give a telltale clench around his dick, "that's it — you can lie, but your princess cunt can't, baby,"
"Sugu, please 'm close—can't—" and his hands are pulling back, letting you do all the work, and you do, fucking yourself stupid on his cock, the wet squelch of your pussy ringing in your ears — so loud, you can't understand why someone hasn't burst into the room yet— but you can't bring yourself to care, when you're so fuckin' close to cumming.
"That's it, fuck, s'good for me," and he's pulling your hands away from your mouth, letting your moans resonate and fill the room, as he watches a white ring of your cum form around the base of his cock, as he grunts, dick twitching as your walls cream around his cock, "now moan my name as you cum so these goddamn monkeys know whose cock you're bouncing on."
KENTO NANAMI | soft!dom, breeding, hair pulling
jealous of running into an ex
"Did he ever make you feel this good?" Kento's question murmured against your neck, as he presses soft kisses to your neck, dragging his leaking tip against your aching cunt, "did he love you like I did?" And his fingers sneak under your head, making your neck arch as he tugged your hair.
"N-no, Kento, he didn't—"
"He certainly acted as if we were the same," he scoffed at the thought of your ex, the one you had dated before Kento, who had the audacity to approach the two of you today. Catching up with you and even touching your arm, as if your husband wasn't there, even ignoring him, until you introduced him. They had shook hands, and you knew Kento had squeezed his hand a little too hard, but now those same hands were gripping you softly — but firmly.
"He's nothing compared to you you're everything to me," and he's rewarding you with sinking his tip into your needy pussy, "ah, Kento, please stop teasing me," you whine, a noise leaving your throat that you didn't even know you could make.
"You're practically sucking me in, but did you do the same for that bastard?" he's dragging his cock up and down, driving you insane with how your walls squeezed, trying to pull him in, but he resisted every tempting contraction of your sweet cunt, "did you take him this well?" and his teeth graze against the soft skin of your neck, "did he make you beg for him?"
"Only you make me feel this good, only you, Kento, only you make me this needy, make this pussy so—" and he's sinking into you, slowly, torturously, but pleasurably — inch by inch, until he's bottoming out, but he doesn't move, not at first, "please, Kento, please—move—"
And he obliges you, thrusting into you, fucking you in earnest, his cock dragging against your walls with each snap of his hips agianst yours, "such a needy baby," he grunts, "your cunt is trying to hold onto me even as I pull out — is that how much you want my cock? Want me to fill you?"
You're nodding, moaning his name, as you meet his lips in messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, as he fucks you harder, "Look at me, baby," he orders, and your eyes flutter open, meeting his lust clouded gaze, making you all the more sensitive to his touch, "want you to watch me as I breed you," and you're groaning, pussy twitching at the thought, "how're you even tighter?" he grunts, "want me to breed you, don't you? Want me to fill you with my cum? Make you full with my children," and your head is thrown back, voice raw as you can only groan his name again and again.
"Kento, mmph, 'm s'close, can't,"
"Cum for me, baby, let me fill you," he's finding your lips in another sloppy kiss as you cum, hard, walls gripping him as he fucked you through your orgasm. And he's cumming too right behind you, filling your womb with his hot release, "good girl," he murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your chest, "but if you think I'm done, we're far from finished," and he's pulling out slowly, before gathering his cum that leaked out on his fingers before slipping it back into your still sensitive cunt, "we're not going to be getting much sleep tonight, love."
CHOSO KAMO | body worship, pleasure dom, oral(f), squirting, implied oral (m!)
jealous of a fellow sorcerer flirting
"Cho-so! Nugh, please—" your fingers buried in his black locks, hair ties long since come loose from your tugging — and you're not even sure if you want to pull him closer, or push him away, "i can't—"
"I know you have more in you, my love," he's only murmuring against your sweet cunt, tongue flicking against your swollen clit, "need to feel you flood my mouth, need to taste every inch of you,” he’s re-doubling his efforts, his hot tongue dragging your gummy walls, making good on his promise, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted — how are you this perfect? How do I deserve you?” You look at him, nestled between your thighs, his lips and chin glossy with your release, tongue darting out to lick your pre from his lips.
“Choso, y-you do, I love you, only you,” and he’s peering up at you with a lidded gaze — but you see something else besides lust — insecurity lined his furrowed brow, and then it clicks, “you know that Ino was just being friend—"
But he’s burying his face back, fucking your cunt his his tongue, as his thumb teases your needy clit, your words falling away to pleasure.
“It wasn’t just friendly. He wants you. I know the lustful gaze of a man, especially one who wants what I have,” he mutters, as his teeth graze your inner thigh, drawing a gasp from your lips, “but how do I have the right to you? Half curse, half human — what am I really to have the right to be with you?” And then he bites your thigh, pulling a loud moan from your lips, “but I can’t help but want you.”
“I love you, only you, I don’t care what you are. I love everything about you because you’re mine. My Choso,” you manage between pants, as your fingers tug his hair to force him to meet your gaze — make him see the state he’s left you in — utterly fucked out with your chest rising and falling, your eyes glazed over with lust, “please, I need you—"
And that’s all he needs to redouble his errors, rubbing himself on the mattress below him, certainly soaking through his boxers and the sheets.
“Mmph, Choso, please, I’m—“ and his lips latch around your clit, sucking hard, until you squirt on his face, and he’s eagerly lapping up your release, as you moan his name. He’s slurping and swallowing your cum with lips quirked in a smile, his groans and grunts only making your cunt flutter around his tongue.
And he’s pulling away finally, an unspoken question on his lips whether he did well, and your only response is to pull him into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, before flipping him over. You kiss your way down his body, as you tug his boxers down to free his erection, tongue grazing the underside, making him groan.
You grin, “My turn.”
YUTA OKKOTSU | fingering (f!), marking, face sitting
jealous of an ex you just broke up with
“Yuta, please—" the last word comes out a squeal, as his calloused fingers tease the crotch of your shorts, a warm heat settling over your skin all at once but all too slowly — like the start of a wildfire.
"I told you I'd help you forget about him," he murmurs, his long and lithe fingers all too skilled, as they snap the waistband of your shorts against your skin, "he never deserved you - you're special, especially to me," and he's pulling down your shorts, until you're kicking them away at your feet.
And this fire had spread far too fast — especially with his fingers teasing your folds through your soaked panties.
“Still thinking about him?” Yuta asks softly, his words soft but not the intent, and he only sighs at your whine, "I'll have to do better for you then," and his fingers slip past your ruined underwear as they tug the fabric down your thighs, making butterflies bloom in your stomach before they surely burst into flames from the fire Yuta is brewing, as two fingers part your dripping folds, "already so wet? I've barely started,"
"Yuta," and he's pausing, as you try to form a sentence, but only comes out as a single word, "more," and his lips quirk into a smile.
"Of course," and he's fucking you open nice and slow, your pre slipping down his fingers onto your hardwood living room floor, "i've been wanting to do this for so long — has your ex ever done this for you?" and you only swallow, whining when he stops, only continuing when you shake your head, "you deserve so much, you deserve the world," and a third finger sinks into you, making you cry out his name, "that's it, love, let me make you feel good."
"Yuta, please," you moan, as his fingers drag against your needy cunt, as he noses the nape of your neck, placing wet kisses along your neck, before his teeth graze your sensitive skin, sucking and licking marks that surely will dot your skin the next day, "ah—"
"Mine," he murmurs, and that makes your cunt twitch around his fingers — god you were so close, so close—and that's right when he's pulling his fingers out.
"Yut—" and he's licking your release from his fingers, before he's tugging you into a bruising kiss, sticking his tongue out to meet yours in a messy kiss, before he's pulling you on top of him, wet cunt pressed against his chest, "what are you--"
"Sit on my face," he says, his pupils nearly completely dark as he meets your gaze, "i want to show you what you've been missing -- how you deserve to be treated," and the blood rushes to your face, as your head shakes no, but he can feel your pussy say yes -- walls squeezing around nothing, "please,"
"Yuta, you don't have to—" but he's unwavering in his gaze, "what if I crush you?"
"It wouldn't be the worst way to go — you know I did have a secret execution scheduled before," and you smack him, but he only catches you by the wrist and kisses each finger, licking your fingertips, sending heat right to your cunt, "let me make you feel good — better than he ever has," and now you realize what it is — it's jealousy.
So you settle above his face, your cheeks burning as you feel his breath warm your aching pussy, "don't worry," and he's helping you ease yourself onto his lips, and right before his tongue drags slowly along the length of your sopping cunt, "you won't remember your name, much less his, after this."
a/n: i just realized i used a similar line in gojo's and yuta's, but y'know what, like teacher like student. what was this? who knows? will i do something like this again? maybe.
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retrievablememories · 9 months
Text
cherry bomb | jungkook (m)
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pairing: jungkook x fem reader
summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.
genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au
word count: 7.1k
warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!
a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings
sources for the fic dividers: one | two
link to part 2
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CHERRY BOMB
don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.
virgins get in free!
THIS FRIDAY
NOV 3, 20XX
[address here]
"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"
"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."
camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."
"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”
“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”
“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."
"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.
"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."
your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.
she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”
"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."
camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."
you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."
--
FRIDAY, NOV 3
taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.
the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.
the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.
you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.
"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.
"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."
"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."
well, you won't argue that.
you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.
you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.
"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.
you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.
"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"
the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.
"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.
jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"
"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.
"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"
"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.
jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."
unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.
but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.
he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.
"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.
knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.
“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.
jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.
jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.
“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.
he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.
you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.
"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”
jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.
jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.
“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”
with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.
he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”
you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.
as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.
jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.
your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”
you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.
taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.
the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.
the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.
the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.
jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”
“wh-what?”
“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”
it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.
you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.
when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.
“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”
jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”
you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.
then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.
having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.
“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.
jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”
jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.
“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”
this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.
jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.
after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.
…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.
“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.
but now’s not the time to get delusional.
“no. i want more.”
jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."
“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.
you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.
you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.
you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.
“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.
“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.
you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”
sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”
he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.
his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.
“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.
“no, i—let’s go all the way.”
jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”
when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.
“yeah,” you say breathlessly.
it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.
“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.
“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”
jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”
he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.
your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”
your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”
you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.
“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.
“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.
"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.
his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.
his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.
“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.
jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.
jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.
you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"
"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"
you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.
"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.
"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.
jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.
the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”
you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…
the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.
the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.
to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.
you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.
the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.
a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.
you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.
you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.
thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.
he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.
when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.
"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."
"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.
"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"
"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."
“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"
unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.
sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.
you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.
“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.
the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.
the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”
“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.
“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.
you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.
for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.
you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”
“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?��
“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.
there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.
“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.
after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.
“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.
“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”
nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”
changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”
5K notes · View notes
whateveriwant · 1 year
Text
Not With a Bang but a Whimper
Summary: Simon has a tendency to be quiet in bed. But maybe, just maybe, you can get him to break his silent streak for once.
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader
Word Count: ~2.5k
Warnings: language, SMUT 18+ (vaginal sex)
A/N: Hello! So we all agree that Ghost's voice is hot, right? And so the thought of him moaning; the filth he'd grunt in your ear… Ugh, I just had to write a little something that would scratch that itch Ghost inflicts on my brain. As always, I hope you enjoy! :)
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There's something about the darkness, the vast visual emptiness, that heightens all of one's other senses.
The tang of sweat. The scratch of sheets. The rhythmic, wet thwapthwapthwap of skin against skin.
They all come together to create a harmonious symphony of the flesh that overrides the benefit of sight, though you're sure that wouldn't detract. 
And it's perfect, really. All of it. You wouldn't change a single, microscopic detail. Except, well… Perhaps…
Simon's breath fans warm across your face, a shaky exhale that hardly sounds as it passes through his lips. There's an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air, but then not half a second later he's right back to it – a grave-like silence worthy of his namesake.
In all the time you've been together, you've never known Simon to be a very talkative man. Sure, once he's comfortable around someone, he tends to open himself up more. But for the most part, he's never been one to speak beyond that which is necessary – a fact you'd long known and come to accept. And yet, despite this truth, somehow, you would've never predicted the Ghost's deathly silence extended to the bedroom as well.
Aside from harried breaths and the occasional throaty grunt, Simon might as well be a mute for how much sound he emits whilst between the sheets. And beyond those baser noises, what few words he has said have always been blunt; directional. 'Roll over. Hands here. Arse up.' and the like.
Of course, the case could be made that you make enough noise for the both of you combined – a circumstance you know Simon doesn't mind one bit. But still, hearing Simon's own unsuppressed enthusiasm is a fantasy you've not yet made reality, a dream you haven't seen come true.
But who says you won't ever?
A deep thrust has your back bowing off the bed, your mouth falling open in an airy moan. Another drive forward and you're clenching eagerly around him, restless hands kneading the wide, muscled expanse of his shoulders. 
In and out, deliberate and methodical, he drags his thick cock along your walls. Gradually, mind-numbingly, the even tempo of his hips stokes a heat within your belly, and you try arching up to meet him, building the flames higher and higher.
As you rock, a low, droning moan tumbles past your parted lips, underlining the measured creaks of the bedsprings, the noisy rattle of the headboard. Simon hits a spot within you that leaves you gasping, panting, and your desperate hands seek purchase higher, sliding up the sweat-slicked line of his neck. 
Reaching the soft, damp hairs of his exposed nape, your fingers find home, threading carelessly through the tousled strands at the back of Simon's head. Another drive of his hips has you inadvertently tugging downwards, and suddenly, as he's pulled towards you, you hear the sweetest noise flowing past your ears.
A groan.
Just a small one, hardly above a whisper, but it's rich and it's coarse and it's oh-so-deliciously-deep.
But before it can swell to something more, Simon's burying his face in the top of your chest, smothering the sound to extinction. 
No! Not again. Not if you can help it.
"Simon," you whine, lifting his head back up to yours. Though you can't quite make out his eyes in the darkness, you know he can still see you; still read you plain as day. "Please. W-Wanna hear you. Let— Let me hear you."
Maybe it's pointless – maybe it's pathetic – but you'll never know if you don't at least try.
Unfortunately, he remains woefully quiet despite your pleas – a few desperate cries not enough to dismantle years of practiced silence. Either that or he just wants to hear you beg some more, which you wouldn't necessarily put past him, but you hope he's not so cruel when you're this wanting.
Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you bring him even closer, lips brushing aching lips. You just want him to let go, to break free from whatever's holding him back, to shrug off those internal bonds keeping his voice hostage.
"Let it out, Si. Please." Please please please please please.
Unthinkingly, you squeeze your grip tighter, pressing your nails down just enough to pinch. Honest to God, it was unintentional on your part, but then suddenly, miraculously, euphorically, it's like the floodgates open all at once.
An unfiltered moan rolls through Simon's throat – low and timorous at first, just edging past reluctant, before it rises in intensity, volume steadily increasing, ultimately peaking in a stuttered curse.
"Oh, fffuck," Simon husks to himself, thighs clapping firmly against the cradle of your legs. "Fuck, pet, y— you're—" his words dissolve as you clamp down around him, the keening sound of your voice mingling with his own.
The moment Simon let down his restraints, your reaction was near-instantaneous – skin prickling, toes curling, hairs standing at full attention. This, THIS, is what you've been waiting for – for Simon to reveal what's been hidden beneath that hardened shell of his. And it's so much better than you ever possibly imagined.
Simon grabs at you hungrily, like now that he's let loose, he can't get enough of you. "Feel so fuckin' good. So fuckin' wet." He snaps his hips a little bit faster, emphasizing the obscene squelch of your cunt.
Already you can tell you're addicted to this new side of him; it's honestly embarrassing how a minor change can make you unravel so quickly. Well, at least, you would be embarrassed if you could find the strength to care. Or really, find the strength to feel anything other than surging, dripping ecstasy.
A calloused, firm thumb makes its way to your clit, and a sharp cry bursts forth from your chest, your head craning way back. Simon nips at your jaw as he circles his thumb expertly, swirling your slick around and around until you're trembling beneath him.
"That feel good, yeah? That what you like?" he questions, perhaps with double meaning.
As you try to speak, you find you've lost your voice in the process of Simon recovering his own. Thus, all you can do is nod emphatically, hitching your legs up higher on his hips to urge him on.
You feel him chuckle against your throat at your nonverbal response. Clearly, he's enjoying himself as much as you are, the cheeky Brit.
Your tongue is utterly paralyzed as you let Simon unleash on you, only able to let out small squeaks and strangled whines as you take the full force of his vigor. Your hips pang, thighs ache, and stomach clenches as he slams into you over and over again. The smack of his balls against your ass carries shamelessly throughout the room – the sound loud and obnoxiously wet as he sticks to the juices running down your rear.
"This messy little cunt's fuckin' gushin' all over me. Think you're ruinin' the sheets, pet," he teases darkly.
Another several flicks of your clit has your core tightening tellingly, walls pulsing as you feel yourself inching closer to that blissful release. Simon must also sense your impending finish because he tries adjusting his approach, and you almost sob as he suddenly pulls his hand away, frustrated at the loss of contact. But then he's pressing flat against you, grinding his pelvis along your throbbing, swollen clit, and your cry of anguish quickly morphs to one of unbridled ecstasy.  
Snaking both hands beneath your shoulders, Simon grips the base of your skull, pushing your sweaty foreheads together as he goes to speak against your mouth. "Christ, you're gonna make me cum," his breathing is choppy; stunted. "S'gonna be a big one, I can feel it." The bed jolts as he picks up his pace.
Strings of whispered expletives weave with broken moans and animalistic grunts, creating a salacious melody that overlays the sound of him taking you apart piece by sopping piece.
You're seconds away from shattering, heat flooding every nerve and vein. The only thing stopping you from falling over the edge already is your want to milk this for every second that you can. But ultimately, you can't hold on forever, and neither can he.
"M'close," Simon huffs, movements turning sloppy. "Can I… inside?" he asks without presumption.
Your tongue still feels like lead as it droops lopsided in your mouth. But you'll try to find your voice again for him, just so there's no confusion.
"Y-Yes," you whisper, more ragged than anticipated. You try swallowing but it's punctured by a whimper, your legs beginning to shake as you feel the endorphins flowing through you. The rising crescendo has you quivering, thighs squeezing him tight, and soon, you can't stop the words from pouring out, bleeding together until you're an incoherent mess. "Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, yes—!" 
All at once, everything comes crashing over you, leaving your body spasming, brain buzzing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. You claw ferociously at Simon's back as you reach your climax, and you bring him over the crest with you, feeling his harsh, stuttered thrusts as he empties deep inside.
You're almost certain you hear a growl as he spills into you, but you can't be totally sure over the ringing in your ears, hardly able to recognize your own euphoric wails.
You ride out the cascading wave of your orgasm until you're boneless, breathless. Even as you start to wind down, it's like you're detached from your body – skin tingling, limbs numbing, chest heaving uncontrollably. You're still shaking as the fog over your senses slowly lifts, and it's only as you register Simon still moving within you that you come back to yourself fully. 
He gives a last few lazy thrusts, pushing his cum even deeper, before he's spent and slumping down, leaning on you heavily. His weight is smothering as he rests on top of you, like an anvil's been dropped on your chest. For a moment, you think he's going to snuff out the remaining air in your lungs, but then he raises up on his elbows, letting you both take a much-needed breath. 
With a choked gasp, Simon slips out of you, a similar noise escaping you as you feel his cum drip from your pussy. He flops face down on the bed, the harsh sounds of his breathing muffled by the pillows. It's another few beats until you feel somewhat collected yourself, and even then your mind is still reeling, replaying what just happened.
Holy shit. That. Was. Incredible. You didn't expect Simon letting loose to be like that, and already, you're eager to experience it again.
"You… should do that… more often," you say deliriously, earning a rumbling chuckle from the man beside you. With a little difficulty, you roll over to face him, your sensitive folds brushing together as you turn. You're just able to make out his silhouette in the dim, and you see how he shakes his head to himself, then peeks up at you from the pillow. 
"You're a greedy little minx, aren't you?" he mocks.
"For you?" You reach over, brushing your fingers through his hair. "Always." He exhales what sounds like an amused breath at your comment, your hand coming back down to rest by your side. "So… 10 minutes? I should be good to go again." That earns a heartier laugh from Simon, though you're not making a joke, the heat still roiling in the pit of your stomach.
He shakes his head again before shifting on his side to mirror you. "At least let me grab a shower and a bite first. I'm not a bloody robot." 
Oh, you're well aware of that. Machines don't feel nearly that good.
But before you get a chance to retort, a swift peck to your lips cuts off anything you intend to say. You lean into the kiss, pressing your palms to his slick chest, but aren't able to get carried away before you feel him pull back.
You sigh begrudgingly. Alright, fine. You guess you can afford him a short break to recover, but no longer than half an hour before you're dragging him back for round 2.
Simon must notice your reluctant acceptance because he chuckles once more, lightly tapping his hand on your hip. "Tell you what. I'll let you join me in the bath if you can keep your hands to yourself."
You nearly scoff at the offer, brows scrunching in annoyance. He knows that's an impossible feat for you. It'd be like dangling a prized carrot right in front of your nose and expecting you to do nothing but lick your lips and stare.
Simon again snorts amusedly as he rolls to exit the bed. "Figured as much. You'll just have to wait then, pet."
You're about to argue with him when he suddenly hauls himself to his feet. He groans as his back cracks loudly in protest, another grunt as his knees pop one after the other. More gruff noises escape him as he walks stiffly towards the bathroom, joints creaking and crackling with every other step he takes.
The noises erupting from his mouth almost sound exaggerated on purpose, like he's trying to exactly mimic the ones from earlier – the ones that had you melting mere minutes ago.  
"Okay, now you're just torturing me!" you accuse half-heartedly, pressing your sticky thighs together to quell the hollow feeling inside. He's riling you up on purpose because he knows you just have to sit there and take it!
"The only torture here is my bloody joints," Simon calls over his shoulder, planting one heavy foot in front of the next. "'S half your fault my knees 've been shot to shit anyway," he grunts. Half the blame to the military, half to missionary, you suppose. 
His lack of acknowledgement to your plight has you huffing loudly, blowing out a harrumph through pouty lips. In response, Simon clicks his tongue in soft admonishment, unswayed by your whiny tones.
"Quiet," he chides, not bothering to look back at you. "Couple more years and I'll be lucky if I don't yell every fuckin' step," he says, though you figure he's just being hyperbolic. As he's just about to duck through the door, leaving you to your own devices, you hear him grumble, more to himself than to you, "Then I'd really give you somethin' to cry about."
Forced to wallow alone in your own self-pity, you roll onto your back with a sigh. Maybe Simon's right. Maybe you should just be content with what you have. You've already gotten so much more from him tonight than you ever have before. Maybe you shouldn't push too hard.
As you hear the faucet crank on, water pelting tile, you can't help how Simon's last words almost echo through your mind. 'I'd really give you somethin' to cry about,' he'd warned, dark and low. Though he meant it as a threat, and though you know it's your sex-clouded brain getting carried away, those words coming from that voice have you damn near trembling, but not out of fear. And as you lie in bed naked, staring up at the darkened ceiling above, all you can do is grasp at your messy sheets and think to yourself…
You kind of like the sound of that.
__________
A/N: I'd love to know what you thought! Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!
7K notes · View notes
msgexymunson · 5 months
Text
Benefits
Description: Your best friend Eddie starts to look very appealing to you, but if you suggest a dynamic change, will he go for it?
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, AFAB reader, weed smoking, virgin Eddie x virgin reader, grinding, fingering, fem oral receiving.
A/N: I just wanted to write a little goofy, not so confident Eddie and this poured out of my brain hole. Enjoy! Reblogs and comments keep me alive so please for the love of all that is smutty reblog if you enjoy it! 
5k words
Masterlist
“All I'm saying is…” you take a big pull of the joint Eddie wiggles at you, his rough fingers brushing your lips. Your voice comes out croaky as hell when you speak, holding the smoke in, “...you can't do the voice.” 
The film plays quietly in the background as you both hang out on his couch, paying little attention to it. 
Eddie scoffs at you, taking the smoke back, and takes a big lug of it himself, hand coming to rest on your bare ankle that was thrown casually over his lap. 
“What you trying to say? You know I can do voices. I could totally do Vader.” 
Giggling, you wiggle your feet as he lightly drags his fingers over them. 
“Don't do that, you know it tickles!” 
Holding his hands up and away from you, you almost miss the contact. Which was insane. This is Eddie, for fucks sake. Your best friend. The asshole who made you nearly piss your pants in seventh grade from tickling too hard, who does stupid shit to get you to smile when you're sad. 
Recently though, the little lingering touches he gives you make your toes curl. Those glances that last a little too long for best friends, the drag of his hand on your back when you move through a crowd. It was crazy, but a part of you couldn't help but think he was feeling the same way. It wasn't like you were in love with the guy, at least not like that. He was almost family. Which made the feelings that you were having sinful in a way that made your thighs clench. 
The flirting didn't help. Eddie flirted as naturally as breathing. He was just so goddamn charming; he had chemistry with everyone. Which made it even more awkward. What if your salacious thoughts weren't reciprocated? Maybe it was just your raging hormones and you needed to keep them in check before you lose your best friend. 
“You're wrong you know.” 
Eddie's words bring you out of the daze you've been falling into; you blink at him, confused. 
“Huh?” 
Eddie rolls his eyes, and flashes you a smirk that does nothing to quench the fire inside, right when his large hands move to your waist and tickle you relentlessly. You're gasping giggles as he pins your hands over your head, full weight pressing into you. Somehow, he's got his narrow hips in between your thighs, which is definitely not helping the situation. 
“I can totally do the voice, see?” He drops it two octaves, letting a deep bass voice flow out of him, “Luke, I am your father.” 
Fuck, that shouldn't turn you on, but it did. That, and his forced proximity has you feeling uncomfortably wet. It's embarrassingly seeping into your panties; so much so that you cringe at your body's betrayal. 
He's just so damn close. So close, that you see something fluttering behind those brandy wine eyes of his. Or, was it merely your imagination?
Only one way to find out. 
Biting your lip, you flutter your eyelashes softly and speak in the sexiest voice you can.
“Does that mean I should call you Daddy?” 
Eddie's mouth drops open in a perfect O, eyebrows knitted. 
“You can't- you just- fuck!” 
He clambers off of you in an attempt to put some space between you, crossing his legs on the couch. Eddie looks flustered, cheeks burning red as he looks at you like you just grew an extra head. 
“I can't what, Eddie? Can't tease you like you tease me?” 
“Huh? I don't tease you! When did I-” 
“Oh, pinning me down don't count, huh?” 
Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he blows air out, grabbing a cushion and ramming it in his lap. 
“I didn't mean it like that, it's just, I dunno.” 
Looking down at his hands, he fiddles with his rings. The sheepishness he's showing is adorable, and so unlike him that it stops you in your tracks. Maybe you should just go easy on him, just a little. 
“Don't worry about it Eds, I'm just fucking around.” 
There's a bit of tension released from his shoulders, but he's still not looking at you. 
Fuck, you need another smoke. 
“You want me to roll?” 
“Hell no, I've seen you roll.” 
Scrunching your nose in fake anger, he laughs at you. 
“Look like a little chipmunk when you do that.” 
“All I hear is that you think I'm adorable.” You giggle as he mockingly rolls his eyes. 
“OK, you roll, I'll grab some sodas.” 
Getting up, you smooth your skirt down and walk over to the fridge. The cans are on the lower shelf, so you bend to grab two, making a mental note to tell Eddie to buy some more. 
When you look back, Eddie's slid to the floor, rolling paraphernalia spread out in front of him. It would be a normal scene, if he didn't still have the cushion wedged in his lap and his face wasn't glowing redder than your underwear. 
Underwear… underwear that he might have seen, since you just bent over. And the only reason why he'd keep that cushion in his lap is if he… 
Oh. 
Wordlessly, you put the soda next to his elbow and scoot up on the couch, entirely unsure about what you're supposed to do in a situation like this. The furthest you've ever gone is some over the clothes stuff. 
Plus, this is Eddie. Your stupid, asshole, mean, tormenting, breathtakingly gorgeous best friend. You curse, wriggling a little in your seat. Your panties are so damp they're practically glued to your privates, a heat emanating from you that's making your insides burn. 
“Milady.” 
Eddie holds the joint to you, perfectly rolled and more surprisingly, unlit.
“Eddie, you always take the first toke. Rollers rights, remember?” 
He shrugs and passes it anyway, giving you the lighter too, as he lifts himself onto the couch with both hands, letting his cushion shield drop briefly. Long enough to see the tightness in the crotch of his pants. 
Now the feel of your slick is dampening your thighs. Pushing them together as tight as you can, willing the feeling to dissipate, you light it with trembling hands. One puff, two puffs, pass. As his fingers graze yours, he looks at you appraisingly.
“You alright there sweetheart? Not comfy?” 
Nothings gonna happen if you just sit here and whine like a bitch in your head. Take the leap. 
“It's a little, er, embarrassing.” 
Knees squeezing together so hard it's bordering on painful, you look up at him through your lashes. Eddie's eyes are wide and warm, a light smile wrinkling them at the corners softly. 
“It's only me, come on. You can tell me anything.”
Huffing and wriggling some more, you watch him inhale smoke, and blow it out, a slight pout to his mouth that makes you want to pepper it with soft kisses. Then hard kisses. Then, other stuff. Fuck. 
“It's not- we don't, talk about this kinda stuff. I don't wanna… cross a line, you know?”
“Hey, it's alright.” His thick fingers shakily touch your knee, thumb rubbing back and forth. You're not sure if it calms you or makes you worse. It could be both. 
“Fine. Just, don't look at me when I tell you this, ‘kay?” 
There's a little laugh from him, then he rests his head on the back of the couch, eyes staring resolutely to the ceiling. 
“Alright weirdo I'm not looking. Shoot.” 
Tightening your knuckles, your face creases with the effort as you let fly the words that may well end your friendship. 
“I'm uncomfortable, I'm just- fuck, I'm really wet, OK?”
Of all the things you could say, you know Eddie was not expecting you to say that. Especially when he blushes profusely and his grip tightens hard on the cushion in his lap. True to his word, his gaze is directed firmly on the ceiling. 
“That's really-” His voice is broken; squeaky and boyish. He coughs and it comes out much lower, almost comically so. “That's, er, interesting.” 
You can't help it. A crazy laugh shoots out of your throat. An insane laugh. A mental institution laugh. It seems fitting for the situation. Here you are, on Eddie fucking Munson’s couch, telling him how wet you are? You've finally lost it. 
He laughs with you, helping to diffuse some of the awkward energy filling the room.
“Sorry Eddie. It just feels a bit, surreal, you know?” 
Eddie risks a look at you when he hands the joint back. You both stare at each other, each wishing to read the other's mind. 
Remember who you're talking to. This is Eddie. You can talk to him about anything. 
“Listen, Eddie, this is way out of fucking left field but I'm gonna say it. Have you like, done stuff, before?” 
Taking the biggest inhale you can risk without swallowing the roach, you pass the smoke back. There's a very slight shake to Eddie's hand. For some reason it gives you a bit more confidence. His voice wobbles more dramatically than you've ever heard.
“You mean like, sexual, stuff?” 
He finishes the smoke and stubs it out, glancing at you. There's a heat in his eyes that you're not used to seeing. 
“Y-yeah, I mean, honest truth? I've only done over the clothes stuff. Nothing more than that. And you?” 
Eddie coughs, puffing his chest out a little in full man-mode.
“I mean, yeah sure, a bit more than that, you know.” 
You do know. You know by the way he worded that, he's at least not gotten past third base. 
“You're a virgin too then.” 
“Hey!” He huffs, turning to you, “I'm like, way less of a virgin than you are!” 
You laugh loudly, knocking his arm with your fist. 
“Doesn't make you less of a virgin, you idiot.” 
He laughs, shaking his head. 
“Suppose you're right. Some hook-ups ‘round the back of The Hideout don't count for much.”
Reaching for his hand, you brush his knuckles with tentative fingers. 
“Eddie, what I'm trying to say is, well maybe- we could help each other out? I'm a bit… frustrated, and so are you. You know?” 
He squirms a little, recoiling from your touch. 
“What makes you think I'm frustrated?” 
“Eddie, I'm not a fucking idiot. I know why you're grabbing that cushion.” 
He laughs, his special fake laugh he reserves for awkward occasions. That is, until you grab the cushion from his lap and throw it across the room.
He's hard, almost painfully so. It's pressing against his zipper in such a way that you know it must be uncomfortable. You take in a harsh breath as you look at his face. So many emotions seem to be fighting for dominance. Clear arousal, some confusion, a little bit of pity, maybe? Which is the last thing you want to see.
Maybe you were wrong.
“I'm saying that we can help each other. I'm attracted to you. I'm not declaring my love for you or anything. It's not like, some crazy confession. I'm just saying we could… relieve each other.”
“Oh.” His whole demeanour has shifted at your words, “so you don't like, love me, or anything?” 
“Eddie, you are so fucking stupid. Of course I love you, you're my best friend. Just not like that. I mean, I kinda want you to… touch me places, don't mean I want your hand in marriage!” 
His chuckle rings against the tinny walls of the trailer. Then, he looks at you, really looks at you. Biting his lip, he walks his hands toward you, stopping just shy of your constricted knees. 
“Glad you said that. I didn't know how to say that I kinda… well, that I like you, that way, but not like… man, you said it better.” 
And just like that, your Eddie was back. It wasn't weird, far from it. After the way you'd been acting around each other for years, it just made sense. 
You both smile at each other. A genuine, familiar smile. One that hurts your cheeks, that makes your chest fill with warmth. 
“I know this is like, super weird, but it might help, you know?” 
Eddie crawls further towards you, palms splayed on your knees. The simple touch has you quivering. 
“What if it's too weird? I don't want this to ruin our friendship.” 
You smile softly, and unclench your thighs slightly, knees spreading. Enough to make his eyes dart down to your core and back up, laced with want. 
“Tell you what Eds. Kiss me.” 
“And how is that gonna help?”
You laugh, beckoning him forwards. As if on a string, he leans toward you, his rough hands grazing the tops of your thighs. You try to disguise the gasp it elicits from you, but it doesn't seem necessary. Eddie's breathing hard, hard enough to hide any impromptu noises from you. 
“Just kiss me Eddie. If it's weird and gross, we'll laugh about it. If it's, erm, better than that… well, then we can maybe take it a little further.”
Eddie leans in more, hovering over you as your head rests naturally into the armrest. But he stops, inches from your face, hesitating. 
“I don't- shit, I don't know what to do!” 
Laughing loud, you reach out and twirl a section of his hair in your soft hands, adding definition to a curl. 
“Just, use a move on me. You know? Like I'm one of those girls at The Hideout. Come on.” 
He laughs, knuckles dragging over your cheek. 
“That's… this isn't the same. You're not like that ” 
“Fine, just- come on to me. Hit me with your best shot. Just, I dunno, just-”
The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue as he cradles your jaw and presses his full lips softly to yours. You don't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. He holds your face almost delicately, tongue lapping gently at your lip until you allow him to slip it inside. 
It's a slow, deliberate thing, as if he's mapping out your mouth in case you never agree to do this again. Not that that's a danger to you. His tongue is burning hot; a slippery warm need, igniting the fire that was already smouldering within you. 
His form relaxes slightly, allowing his weight to drop. His chest falls onto yours, no doubt telling him of the heaving gasps you're taking. You couldn't find it in you to mind, not whilst he's prising your legs open with one knee, his thigh pressing against just where you need it most. 
A moan races out of your mouth and into his, muffled into his chasing tongue. The warmth between your legs is just getting worse, stoked by the pressure of his searching knee. Suddenly there's tension exactly where you need it, the coarse denim of his thigh rubbing hard against your throbbing nub. 
“Eddie, fuck!”
He smiles into your mouth as he pushes his leg harder, groans overtaking his mouth as you use it to chase your pleasure. 
His perfect mouth traces down your jaw, nipping and sucking at your flesh. His thick tongue lathing over your taut muscles, your tiny fingers grasping onto his arms almost pathetically. 
When he breaks away to look at you, eyes searching for doubts, you can't help but think how beautiful he looks. His hair's a little messier than usual, cheeks flushed pink, and those full lips look even plumper than before. 
“Sorry, should have checked in. Was that, alright? Not too weird?” 
You try to slow your breathing, but it's no use. It usually takes you a while to get there on your own, but you were so close to coming on Eddie's leg after a couple of minutes of making out it was almost shameful. 
“I'll say, jeez. I nearly- er, got carried away.” 
“Really?” Eddie's eyes seem to brighten as the corners of his mouth twitch up into a cheeky grin. 
“Don't let that get to your head! I'm just really… needy right now.” 
“Fuck,” he replies, adjusting his bulge, “right, carried away, you say?”
Before you can process what he's said he leaps up, grabs you by the waist and throws you over his shoulder. Your giggling squeals echo through the trailer, ringing out like the peals of a bell as he barges into his room and throws you on the bed. Laughing and red faced, with your skirt rucked up around your hips and your arms flung above your head, you notice Eddie's gaze shamelessly skimming to your panties. 
Shaking out of his bare faced revelry he jumps onto the bed next to you, eager as a kid at Christmas. He's on his side, a large hand roaming over your stomach, across your waist, down to your hips and skimming just under your thin sweater. 
“You want me to take this off?” You ask, tugging at the hem. 
“Oh, er- yeah, I-I mean if you- do you want to take it off?” 
Eddie bumbles through his words as you giggle at him, his usual confident demeanour evaporated at the thought of your body. 
“Eddie you dingus, you've literally seen me in my underwear before!” 
“Well, yeah… but that was before you, er, filled out.” 
It was a long time ago. A hot Summer spent running around the trailer park hitting each other with water balloons. You'd almost forgotten how far back it was.
“You don't have to be scared of my boobs ya know.” 
Eddie scoffs, hitting you playfully with a flick of his finger on the tip of your nose. You grab it, trying to bite it but he's pulling it away and you follow. It turns into yet another wrestling match as laughter rings from the pair of you. He tries to hold his hand up high but then you straddle him. 
Suddenly, his arm goes limp and you pull the offending digit into your mouth triumphantly, nibbling softly. It's then you realise you're straddling his stomach and he's completely lost, staring at the way your skirt is wrinkled. 
Play fight discarded, you shimmy down his body and revel in the little shaking breath Eddie makes as you sit gently on his crotch, the hardened bulge pressing into your clothed heat. 
“Fuck, you're so warm.” 
You blush as his fingers dig into your hips as if afraid you'll disappear. 
“You can feel that, through your jeans?” 
He chuckles low in his throat and the sound travels straight to your tummy, letting loose a cascade of butterflies. 
“Feel it? It's like a freaking furnace. Bet it'll feel amazing inside you.” 
It's just Eddie, running his mouth; in fact it seems he didn't mean to say that out loud judging by the look on his face. He always has an issue separating outside thoughts and inside thoughts. It was so casually spoken though, you don't think he realised just how dirty it sounded. 
Your fingers smooth up his stomach, feeling the muscles tense under the contact, pulling his shirt up with them. 
“Really hot when you say stuff like that.” 
You're embarrassed admitting it, but you're so turned on that he needs to know how much his words affect you. Mostly so he'll keep using them.
“Yeah?” 
“Hmm.” 
You're dragging nails over his abdomen, tugging his t-shirt higher and higher. He doesn't seem to mind, firm hands pulling your hips slowly back and forth. So you take a shot, and yank it up high. He gets the message, lifting his arms over his head so you can fling it off and away. 
There's no subtlety to the way he pulls at your top, sitting up to wrench it off you. He's panting, eyes raking over your red cotton bra as if you were in the finest lingerie. Then your lips crash together, desperately exploring each other's mouths, teeth clashing in urgency. You collapse on top of him as he holds your hip with one hand, guiding you over his hardness as the other palms your breast over your bra. 
That feeling is back, the burning tingling mass of arousal clutching your insides, growing and growing quicker than ever. You rut against him, each pass sending a zip of sensation all the way from your clit to the tips of your toes. 
Moaning in his mouth, you break away and he nips at your neck, rough fingers snaking into your bra to clumsily rub your nipple. You cling to his waist tightly as the feeling mounts, and mounts, and finally- 
“Eddie! Oh- oh fuckin’ hell!” 
It happens. The thing that had never happened to you outside of your own late night desperate fumblings. It flows like liquid fire through your veins, buzzing across your skin in a wild burning sensation that takes you utterly by surprise. Your sounds are feral; incoherent and needy, as your thighs grasp him firmly as if in fear of him moving away. 
After a loaded silence, whilst you both breathe, and breathe, you finally unclasp your legs around him, falling to the side in an ungainly heap of arms and legs.  
“Well. Holy fucking shit.” you laugh nervously, legs shaking with the after effects.
“So, not too weird?” He smiles, taking the opportunity to get on top of you, arms either side of your head. 
“It's a little weird. Only ever, you know, came, on my own, so yeah.” 
“Yeah?” The cocky look is back, a hand trailing down your shoulder to rest on your breast. 
“Can I take this off, please?” 
You smile and lift your back up so he can slide his hand behind you, fumbling around to try and get the clasp, swearing under his breath. 
“I don't know, can you?” You question, stifling giggles. 
“You could just help me, you know, you-you devil woman- Oh wait I did it!” 
The clasp springs free and Eddie's proud smile nearly splits his face apart as he eagerly pulls down the straps. 
“You're such a goofball.”
“You've got amazing tits, Jesus Christ.” 
Heat flushes your chest and before you can retort he's kneeling between your legs, hot mouth sucking roughly on a nipple. Words fail you, your body the only thing talking as you arch your back and push toward his greedy lips. Letting go with a loud pop, he sucks a hickey right in the middle of your sternum, running his thumb over the wet mark after. 
“I wanna go down on you.” He blurts it out, spill words tugging out of his lips before he can stop them. 
“You wanna what?” You respond, dazed as he looks up at you, eyes full of fire. 
“I wanna use my mouth on you. Down here.” 
He drags his fingers low, pressing one just to the top of your mound. 
“You really want to?” As far as you're aware, that's not a thing guys tend to want to do. At least that's what you've heard. Eddie seems to be an exception. 
“More than anything.” He's brutally honest, eyes wide and begging. 
“I mean, if you want to, sure.” 
“OK, shit, just wait a sec.” 
Getting up so fast it must make his head spin, he unbuttons his jeans and wrestles them down his legs, tossing them away. The tent in his boxers makes your eyes widen.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he climbs back on the bed. 
“Sorry, just so fuckin’ hard it hurts.” 
Nothing can stop the whimper that shoots out of your mouth at his words. Again, he's just being honest, but he doesn't seem to understand how sexy it is. 
Moving to unzip your skirt, he bats your hand away to do it himself. Before he pulls it off, he looks at you nervously. 
“Just, let me know if you don't like something. Or if you do. I've er, I've not done this before so lower your expectations.” He laughs it out, embarrassment coating each word. 
“I thought you had a bunch of hook ups at The Hideout?” You tease, smirking at him. 
“Right, full disclosure, I've erm, used my fingers before, a few times. And once- once some girl tried to give me head and I busted in like three seconds, OK?” 
He grabs a bunch of his hair and hides behind it while you chuckle. 
“Eddie, it's fine, I'm glad you told me. It's just me. I'm not gonna judge you, you know that.” 
“Yeah, of course.” The breath he lets out is loud, tension melting from his body, and he bends to pull your skirt down and off. Your panties are next; they cling to your core so much it makes you cringe, but he doesn't seem to mind. 
“Can you, spread your legs a little sweetheart?” His voice is husky, eyes staring straight at your pussy. Feeling exposed, you do as he asks, fighting the urge to pull away from his gaze. 
“Look at you. Beautiful.” 
Smiling at his words, it turns into an open mouthed gasp as he strokes his fingers softly through your folds. 
“Fuck me, you're soaked.” 
Then his tongue is slipping across you, feeling tentatively as he keeps your legs wide with his rough palms. It's different; wet and messy, but it's incredible. The pleasure increases tenfold as his wandering mouth finds your clit. 
“Eddie, right there, right there!” 
He groans, pushing his face into you so hard you can feel the vibrations from the noise. He's moving his tongue up and around it, making an absolute mess of spit and slick over you. Suddenly he tries sucking and your back leaves the bed, hands coming to clutch at his hair. 
“Oh my God, do that again, please please, oh fuck!” 
He does it again, and again, smoothing each suckle with a flat lick from his tongue. Fingers graze your hole suddenly, making you jump. As you look down you see Eddie's entirely consumed by what he's doing, rutting himself into the mattress like an animal. One finger breaches you, feeling around, pumping slowly in and out. It's good, but it's not great. 
You feel ashamed even trying to guide him but you attempt to shake it off. 
“Eddie?” 
“Hmm?” He looks up, an almost dazed expression in his eyes. 
“Can you- can you curl your finger upward?” 
“Like this?” 
Your reaction is instantaneous, hips rucking up to his touch. 
“Fuuuck.” 
“Yeah? That good, sweetheart?” 
That smugness is back but it isn't in you to care. There's no words, just little whimpers and moans as you grab him by the hair and push his mouth back where you need it. 
When he adds another finger, you're gone. Your walls are clenching around him, sucking him in as the feeling of his thick digits stretching you fills your entire being. Dots dance in your vision as your whole body feels fuzzy, tingles whispering over your skin. You cry out as the feeling escalates, bubbling through you until you can't see, can't think, clawing at Eddie's head until you reach an impossible precipice. Then, it explodes, showering you in waves, over and over. 
“Oh my God that was amazing, fuck Eddie, you're incredible, I never came that hard in all my life, Jesus Christ!” 
You're babbling, you know, bubbles of platitudes popping out of your mouth in almost nonsensical sounds as your legs twitch like crazy. 
Eddie scoots up a little, face pressed into the plush of your stomach. He mumbles something incomprehensible. Leaning up on your elbows, you pull his hair a little making him look at you. 
“You alright there? What'd you say?” 
Eddie laughs, kissing your tummy, face flushed pink. 
“I said I fuckin’ came in my pants.” 
Then he hides again, as if your skin can cover his embarrassment. 
“Eddie, come here you dope.” 
He climbs up you, leaning on quivering arms. The front of his boxers pushes on your sticky core. 
“Don't worry about it, that's kinda hot.” 
“Yeah? You're hot. That was, wow. I think I found my favourite place.” 
You giggle, pressing kisses to his lips. There's still traces of you on him but you don't care. 
“Can you tell me what you said again?” He asks, grin fighting to envelop his whole face. 
“Huh?” 
“You know, how I'm the most incredible lover in existence.” Waggling his eyebrows at you, he strokes a wayward hair off of your sweaty forehead. 
“I did not say that!” 
“I'm paraphrasing, it was pretty close.” 
You hit him on the chest playfully and he falls to the side in a terrible act of mock pain. Crawling on top of him, you continue to smack him, fake punches thrown at his ribs. 
“OK, you win, I cannot best you!” 
Grabbing your hand, he kisses your knuckles and you melt against him, pressing soft kisses to his mouth. They turn harder, tongues massaging each other as he runs his hands down your back. 
You break away to plant a single kiss to the tip of his nose. 
“Maybe in a bit, you know, when you've… recovered…” 
Dragging your nails down his lean chest you look up at him, biting your lip. 
“We can… go all the way?” 
Eddie's face lights up. He grabs you and flings you down so he's on top, kissing your neck and jaw sloppily as you squeal at the sudden onslaught. 
“Yes, fuck yes, gimme like two minutes, five tops.” 
Taglist (if you want to be added please send me a PM so I don't lose the request, thank you)
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n
3K notes · View notes
cloudystevie · 4 months
Text
pavlov's dog
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
pairing || mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 1812
summary || he kept you waiting and it's his honour to make it up to you.
warnings || smut! loosely depicted mafia business, daddy kink, oral fem receiving, pet names, begging, mild degradation, dacryphilia, pussy slaps, cmnf, subspace, dom!bucky
author's note || 18+ ONLY. hi. i haven't written for more than a year and a half. ive been feeling some type of way about bucky and maybe getting back to writing mindless porn is what i needed to get my creative fulfillment ive been severely lacking. please don't mind the potentially choppy smut as i haven't written in a long while. feel free to reblog and leave comments!!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
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8:53.
8:53 PM, and you were still waiting for Bucky to finish his meeting. A recent competitor was threatening Bucky’s monopoly in New York, apparently, something to do with some guy who owned a publishing company inherited by his grandpa, who was looking to buy one Bucky already owned.
Whatever. You weren’t really listening when Bucky was talking about it over the phone because you were too busy keeping his cock warm.
You watch the digital clock flash another minute, and finally, your phone dings with an activity notification at the front door. Before you can try to be chill about it, you all but run to the door to greet your man, practically jumping on the balls of your feet with excitement. The door swings open, and you barely glimpse Bucky's tired and frustrated expression before it morphs into a sweet smile reserved for you, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and shine. 
Running into his arms, you koala hug him as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. He expertly toes his shoes off while showering you with the same attention. “Were you waiting by the door for me the whole time, baby?” He asks with a smile.
Nodding your head yes and widening your eyes while twisting your lips into a pout, you decide to play the sweet, patient girlfriend who Bucky knows you really aren’t. “You kept me waiting for 4 whole hours, Jamie, 4 hours. I stood right by this door and didn’t take a single break until you came home.” 
A hearty laugh escapes his lips at that, and you can feel the tension from his shoulders leaving as you gently rub them while still managing to cling onto him as he maneuvers you two to your bedroom. Unfortunately, both of you are well aware that patience is a virtue that you very simply do not possess.
“My poor, incredibly patient and honest baby. How rude of me to keep you waiting like this, huh?” He keeps his voice low, both in pitch and volume. It sends a tangible shiver down your spine as he sets you down on the bed. You bite your bottom lip, subconsciously spreading your legs, unable to hide your reactions from him.
Bucky loves how responsive you are to him.
“So mean to me daddy.” You whisper, “need you to make it up to me.”
Bucky licks his lips and clenches his jaw because fuck he needed this, especially after being stuck at his office for nearly 4 extra hours while you were at home looking like this. So sweet and soft and submissive for him; all he needed was someone to control because his empire in New York was being tried.
But Bucky had it under control. He always did. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a newcomer who decided to get a little ballsy and try and take over some of his territory.
He always did fuck you more aggressively when work had more hiccups than usual.
“Yeah, honey baby? How do you want Daddy to make it up to you? Use your words.” Bucky’s tone kept dropping, getting deeper and deeper with each delicious word he spoke to your somehow already foggy brain.
Even while he was giving you some control, he managed to maintain dominance over you, and that just flared the heat pulsing between your thighs.
“Need you, daddy, want your mouth.” You whisper, heat spreading your cheeks as you voice what you want, but a surge of pride goes through Bucky. At the beginning of the relationship, you had really struggled with voicing what you wanted, whether it was something like telling him you didn’t feel like getting dolled up to eat at a luxury French restaurant and wanted some burgers instead or how you struggled to say to him you wanted him to take his shoes and coat off before he came inside your apartment and sat on your couch. He dealt with people who feared him every day, people who never corrected him or crossed him. It was made abundantly clear you are not one of those people; you need to tell him what to do and how to do it, and he will. Bucky would bring the moon and the stars to you if the thought ever crossed your mind.
Dropping to his knees will have to do for now, he thinks.
His large palms spread your thighs as your pliant body falls back, but you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the show. Bucky smiles at you with hunger in his eyes as he licks his lips once again while gingerly sliding your pajama shorts down your legs. You inhale sharply as the cool air from the open balcony doors hits your core. Bucky can’t help the rumble emerging from his chest as takes in your already wet pussy, bringing his thumb up to flick your swollen clit and messily run the tip of his finger around your pussy.  “You were waiting for me without any panties on? You’re that fucking desperate for me, sweetheart? Ready to bend over for me as soon as I walk through the door?”
You whimper at his fingers and throw your head back, nodding it desperately fast. 
“Aww, don’t go quiet on me now,” Bucky teases, “you were being such a good girl telling me what you want. Don’t stop now, angel baby.”
You whine high in your throat as you tug on his hand that is still purposefully brushing over your clit, “Please, Daddy, just- just-” 
Before you can finish your plea, Bucky licks up your slit, expertly swirling his tongue around your clit as your thighs jolt around his head, and a surprised mewl leaves your lips. “Oh god, Daddy, need more, please more,” your hands reach out to grab onto whatever you can, one hand gripping Bucky’s hair, making him hiss and buck his own hips against his tight slacks while the other latches onto the silk bedsheets.
“Greedy girl,” Bucky hums against your pussy, but to your delight, he indulges you, slipping a thick finger into your pulsing hole. Still, before you have time to react to that, he’s wrapping his lips around your swollen clit for the first time tonight and sucks on it. Making your back arch up and your legs quake as you try to simultaneously push yourself away from him but pull him closer. A near-pornographic moan leaves your swollen lips as your chest heaves. You cry out his title as he slides another long finger inside you, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on your poor little clit and soothes it with kitten licks every few seconds.
“Oh Daddy, you’re gonna- fuck, you’re gonna make me cum please, Daddy, please can I cum!” You babble, drool seeping from your lips as Bucky always manages to reduce you to a mindless, pathetic mess. It had never been easy for you to stop or slow down your orgasm, as Bucky always tended to barrel it out of you. Although you had noticed that the high that spread through your body when he permitted it was much more euphoric than the orgasms that slipped out of you.
Maybe it was something akin to Pavlov’s dog effect. Conditioning.
Bucky was aware of this fact as well. He knew your body, your mind, better than you did. 
A satisfied smirk works itself onto his lips, and he grumbles something against your sensitive cunt, enjoying the way you struggled to keep your body at bay. “I dunno, my stupid little baby, dunno if you’re desperate enough yet.” Bucky’s words vibrate against you and propel you towards your high even quicker. Your whines get more high-pitched and breathy as you struggle against your boyfriend’s relentless tongue. “I am Daddy, I am desperate. Always am for you, please, Daddy, make me cum.” You whine a bit petulantly as your orgasm is right there. But he’s dangling it above your head and forcing you to obey him. So, you try the guilt-tripping route.
Tears well in your eyes, and your lip quivers, “Please, Daddy, don’t you wanna make me cum? Don’t you wanna take care of me? Make me cum all over your tongue and make a mess? Please, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cry, tears slipping down your face, and Bucky grunts, closing his eyes as he tries not to cum in his pants at the sound of your breathy pitch and the sight of tears slipping down your face.
He pulls back and curves three fingers toward your special spot, and takes his other hand to slap at your swollen clit in quick succession, making you squeal. Arousal paints your thighs as he quickly switches back to overstimulate your poor button by sucking on it so hard that your orgasm squirts onto his bearded face, making him groan in appreciation as he mumbles something like: “That’s it, there’s my good girl making a fucking mess like Daddy taught you.” But you are too out of your mind to really process his words as you struggle to breathe down from your high, tears slipping down your face as you bask in the overwhelming feelings of such an intense orgasm. 
Bucky kisses up your thighs and stomach, easing his fingers out and tongue away slowly so you don’t go from overstimulated to zero all at once. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks as he shushes you, bringing you down from your high with soft words and coos that appeal to your clouded brain. You cup his much larger hands in yours, pouting your lips up for a kiss, and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss against your swollen lips. He can taste the salt from your tears, and it sends even more blood rushing straight to his dick as he ruts his hips against yours, making you pull your lips apart on a mewl. 
“Daddy, will you fuck me now?” You ask with a certain lilt to your voice. Bucky scoffs before pressing his lips to yours and rumbling against your lips, “You’re an insatiable little whore you know that?” 
Manhandling you to the top of the bed, he throws you against the pillows as unbuttons his slacks and pulls his hard cock out, pre-cum oozing from the swollen red tip as he looks like he could destroy you. “I’m your little whore daddy.” You tease, spreading your shaky legs apart, and he licks his lips.
—--------
Bucky worked from home the next morning. Needing the extra time to make up for the late nights and the particularly strenuous activities that led into the early morning hours. 
As you sat on his lap, peacefully dozing in and out of sleep, he knew he had made the right choice that morning.
1K notes · View notes
junkissed · 8 months
Text
can't get you out of my head
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member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am
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the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.
the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.
it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 
he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.
so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 
like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.
the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.
one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.
your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.
you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.
your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.
you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.
if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—
before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.
he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.
the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.
so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 
maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…
… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?
well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.
you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.
you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.
for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.
he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.
you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 
he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.
but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.
he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.
but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 
he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.
he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.
sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.
if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.
you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.
throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.
he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.
you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.
it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.
you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.
without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.
you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 
the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.
he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.
you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.
this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.
he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.
"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.
it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.
it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 
"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"
your breath catches a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."
and just like that, things make sense. 
"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.
everything is so simple with hansol.
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lilahisntsadanymore · 5 months
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Blood status seems to become less important when you acknowledge the actual feeling of love. What will Theo do when Y/n comes to the terms with the differences between them being impossible to ignore?
Pairing: Theo Nott x granger!reader
Words count: 1.9k
Author's note: My apologies for keeping you waiting so long, but I finally got some time off at uni!! Wishing you all a good year!!
Kind of a 2nd part of this fic, but you can read it without the previous one
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Keep you safe
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One evening, Theo was waiting in the library. Waiting for a person he never expected to talk to. Y/n Granger. He found himself feeling a bit nervous, even though there was no reason.
Thinking about Y/n made him feel something. A feeling he never felt before. Slughorn said it's love, the muggle kind of love, the purest form, not induced by anything supernatural.
Theo decided to read about it. Hoping to find some book about it, he asked the librarian. She gave him a book specifically about love potions and spells. One of the first chapters was just what Theo was looking for.
"How to tell the difference between love and infatuation caused by magic." He whispered the first sentence to himself.
He started reading, his mind realizing what he got himself into as his gaze brushed over the text. Well, technically it wasn't his own fault and apparently also not the girl's fault.
But there must've been a reason. If love was a part of biology, brain chemistry, there had to be some logical factor.
"What are you reading?"
When Theo heard Y/n's voice right next to him, he immediately closed the book, causing it to make a loud sound.
"You took such a long time I got bored." He replied.
"Don't be so shy," the girl shifted her eyes to the title of the book, "oh, love potions and spells? But we're doing something completely different."
"Really? I couldn't care less, forgot what we were supposed to do." Surely one thing he'd love to do was making out with her on that table.
Y/n put her homework on the table.
"Read it and tell me what's wrong."
"Nothing is wrong, I just-"
"What's wrong with my text, Nott. I didn't ask how you were doing."
"Right."
Theo took the papers and started reading. The text was written with the most beautiful handwriting he's ever seen. So elegant, so precise.
"How long did it take you to write?" He asked.
"One evening. It was easier than you'd think."
"I think it's extremely easy." He bragged. "Anyway, is that all? Or do you wanna add something?"
"Well, Slughorn thought it's necessary for you to help me. Is there anything you think should be added?"
"Uh, no, it looks fine," he mumbled, avoiding eye contact.
"Fine? Theodore Nott, the perfectionist Slytherin, settles for 'fine'? I expected more from you."
"Look, it's not my homework, it's yours. I don't know why I agreed to help you, but it was pointless."
"You got yourself into this, could've said no."
"What the fuck am I even doing?" Theo asked rather himself than the girl. "I don't need to be helping a mudblood, who cares what grade you'll get." With these words, he stood up.
"Because-" Y/n stuttered. "Because... I've heard your conversation with Slughorn. And you said... that you liked me."
"Me? Liking you?" He snorted with laughter. "What the hell, Granger?"
Tears formed in Y/n's eyes as she watched Theo walk away. Sure, he was mean to her before, this wasn't the first time. But this time was somehow different.
Y/n could swear she heard Theo confessing to Slughorn that he's actually in love with her. It's not possible her brain played tricks on her. Plus Hermione said Theo told her about his feelings for Y/n.
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Harry walked onto the astronomy tower. Y/n was supposed to be back a long time ago. Ron and Hermione also wanted to go there, but Harry asked to let him go alone.
Harry knew where Y/n was thanks to the Map. He felt such relief not seeing Nott's name next to hers. She was standing alone, leaning on the banister. There was something in her hand, Harry couldn't see well in the dark, but from the smell he realized it was a cigarette.
"I didn't know you smoke." He spoke.
Y/n expected this to happen, she was aware of Harry's feelings towards her. She took one last drag from her cigarette then dropped it on the ground, put it out with her shoe and kicked off the tower.
"Why do you keep doing this?" Y/n asked, smoke leaving through her mouth. "I knew you're gonna look at your silly little map to see where I am."
"We were starting to get worried. Theo is... you know, dangerous. We got scared he would hurt you."
And he did. Theo did hurt Y/n, just not physically.
"Hermione should be here instead. But, let me guess, you told her you'll check up on me."
"Maybe," Harry admitted finally, "do you know why? Because I actually care about you. I've had feelings for you for years. I deserve you, not Nott. I deserve you, because-"
"Because you're the chosen one?" She mocked and paused. "Look, Harry, I like you as a friend. I've never felt anything more than this. I can't change how I see you and I won't pretend otherwise."
He nodded, acceptance settling in. "I get it. I just... I thought if I cared enough, it would make a difference."
"Caring is important, Harry, but it doesn't always lead to the feelings we hope for."
"Whoever you date, just don't date Nott, please."
"I promise I won't. Not after today, I'm over him."
"Care to share what happened?"
"I'll tell you, Hermione and Ron in the common room. Let's go, I've been here too long."
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪
Y/n didn't even know how wrong she was that night on the astronomy tower, but she forgot about it. Weeks went by, Christmas had passed, everyone were back from the break. Classes started again and Y/n found herself hoping to catch a glimpse of Theo.
They kept exchanging glances on the corridors, accidentally bumping into each other in the crowds. Y/n wanted to believe Theo liked her, but even if he did, they could never work.
"Y/n, listen to me," he said, catching her when she was alone in the library one time. "I know how things have been between us, but during the break I... I realized I don't wanna keep being enemies."
"Theo, you know it could never work. You said what you said and maybe it's better to leave it this way."
"I contemplated a lot," it was true, he spent the break mostly in his room, drowning in thoughts. About her, about them, coming to terms with what he was feeling. "I decided to accept my feelings."
"That's great for you, but we could never work. I've always 'fancied' you, I guess, despite what you were doing, ironically, but the time we worked on my project together, I accepted we could never work."
"And why's that?"
Y/n took a deep breath, wondering if he was stupid or just pretending. Maybe it was a bet he had with someone. Maybe Draco dared him to do this.
"You don't see how different we are? What do you expect is gonna happen? Would you introduce me to your father? Wouldn't you care that I'd get you disowned?"
Theo looked at her, Y/n could see sadness in his eyes. She realized her words made him realize the differences between them, because he walked away. Theo walked away without a word.
Y/n pierced her own heart with an invisible knife. She was really hoping they could work, but it just wasn't possible in this universe. Maybe there was a universe where none of this purity bullshit didn't exist. Y/n wished she would've been born there.
Y/n couldn't predict what Theo was going to do. She thought her words made him give up on her. It was for the best, of course, she should've focused on her studies firstly, and then on a realistic relationship.
It was a Friday. Y/n was sitting next to Ginny by the Gryffindor table. It was dinner time, all the students gathered in the Great Hall. All the students besides one Slytherin, the one that Y/n hoped to see. Maybe it was weird, but she enjoyed the sad looks they'd pass to each other.
"Hey, Y/n, are you listening?" Hermione asked from across the table.
"Sure," Y/n quickly shifted her eyes to her sister. "You were talking about Defence Against the Dark Arts."
"You've got divided attention. Stop looking at the Slytherin table."
"Ugh," Ginny groaned, "were you doing this again? Merlin, you stare at this Slytherin git 90% of the time."
"Well, he isn't here today. I wonder where he could be. Everyone else is here."
"There he is," Ron pointed out, rolling his eyes.
The golden trio and two younger Gryffindors looked at the doors' direction. Theo had just walked into the Great Hall, but surprisingly he didn't walk towards his table. He walked towards Y/n.
"Y/n," he spoke, catching everyone's attention. People were reading to witness another argument. "I can't help this, I love you."
Shocked noises came from all the tables, but Slytherins kept whispering between each other also when Theo continued talking.
"I don't care what anyone says, anyone thinks. Love is not meant to be controlled, it kills me to fight it."
Y/n stood up from the table, ready to leave the room.
"Theo, stop," she begged, "you're embarrassing us both. Your friends will-"
"I don't care what they do. If they don't accept it, they're not my friends. If anyone wants to fight me for having feelings for a muggleborn, I can fight, I've never lost a duel."
The whole Great Hall fell silent, even the teachers didn't try to intervene, when they saw Theo pulling out a small, black velvet box.
"I want you to wear this ring," he opened the box, "as my promise to always protect you from whoever tries to harm you or our relationship."
"It's beautiful, but..." Y/n was speechless by the sight of the ring. It was silver with two gemstones forming a subtle heart - half emerald and half ruby.
"It was custom made and if you accept it, I'll once get you a matching engagement ring. Also, there are thorns which will hurt you when you try taking it off. I want you forever, Y/n Granger."
The ring in the black velvet box sparkled under the enchanted ceiling. The Great Hall remained in silence as Theo poured his heart out, confessing his love. The unexpected turn of events had everyone on edge.
Slytherins exchanged intrigued glances, Gryffindors shared confused looks and even the teachers seemed to not know how to react. Y/n could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on her, and for a moment, she considered the potential consequences of accepting Theo's proposal.
"Theo," she began, her voice breaking, "it's not that simple."
"I know it is. But I can't keep hiding my feelings, Y/n. I've tried, and it's tearing me apart. I'll protect you from whatever comes our way."
Y/n looked at the ring, then back at him. "I believe in second chances. And I appreciate your sincerity. I accept the ring, Theo."
Theo carefully took the ring from the box and gently slid it onto Y/n's finger. The Great Hall burst with cheering and applause, only the Slytherin table didn't seem so enthusiastic about this.
Theo placed his hands on Y/n's waist, pulling her in for a kiss. She didn't hesitate to kiss him back, her hands sinking in his dense her yet the ring on her finger still visible, reflecting the light from the ceiling.
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d10nyx · 4 months
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don't hold your breath(nobody's home)
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, dead dove, uncle-niece incest, non-con, loss of virginity, very minor blood description, forced alcohol consumption, alcoholism from leon ofc, reader gets slapped, age gap, guilt, one threat, fingering, p in v, non-consensual creampie, crying, idk leon feels entitled cause his brother sucks, reader hinted at having nice tits idk
a/n: sorry if this sucks ass... my motivation for writing has been non-existent w real life stuff n all the drama so... i feel like this is awful but here we are. title from razzmatazz by idkhbtfm... not proofread i'm sorry </3
word count: 1.9k words
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Leon knew he had a drinking problem. He just hadn't realised it had gotten this bad. He couldn't even get his dick up with viagra anymore. He frowns as he looks down at the brunette he was planning to fuck, tempted to try and just push it in soft.
He ends up just kicking her out to drown his sorrows. He wasn't dealing with this shit tonight, not when he was seeing his asshole brother tomorrow. Pretty wife, perfect kids. His job pays better than Leon's ever will, and he didn't need to undergo years of trauma. Lucky bastard.
Leon does what he does best that night and drinks enough whiskey so he can pass out without worrying about the nightmares coming to ruin his night. 
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
He hasn't seen you in a good six years. You were still playing with dolls and shit when he last visited. Makes him feel stupid when he brings you a plushie as a gift. Clearly he forgot how time worked, cause he still expected you to be thirteen. You still hug him and say thank you, sweet as ever. When his brother said he'd be watching the house and looking after you, he didn't expect to see you so... grown. Too old to need a babysitter, really. Even if your parents are gonna be gone for a week.
He gulps as his hands settle on your hips, trying to prevent you from pressing against his hardening cock. Down boy. At least his dick still works. It just took his college-aged niece to get it up. Doesn't help that you've got your tits smooshed against his chest.
Therapy was gonna be a doozy this week.
He could only pray that this doesn't turn into anything. The last thing he needed was his dick being the thing that got him thrown into prison for doing something stupid to you, no matter how cute that body of yours is. That's a new one, he thinks, mentally slapping himself for even thinking about touching you like that. He'd never do it, of course. That's sick, and he knows it. He's just so frustrated. And you're hot. A total babe. Somehow, you managed to get a better rack than your mom. Must be the Kennedy genes coming in. Leon's got tits for days.
He knew he had a drinking problem, but he never thought he'd lose himself this much. He never thought about hurting anyone. He's not a bad guy. It's just that every time he tried to be with someone, he just couldn't get his body to react the way he wanted. That's what the oxytocin was for, he thought, already thinking about taking a swig of whiskey from the flask in his pocket. If only that fucking stuff worked on him. The part of his brain that controlled his cock seemed to be permanently on vacation, and his wires clearly got crossed somewhere if he wants to fuck his own blood.
Whatever. He could get through a week alone with his niece without any trouble. He's faced worse monsters than the ones making themselves present in his mind right now. He'd keep his distance, and all would be okay.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
That didn't work. Of course it didn't. You were just as clingy with him as you were when you were a kid, following him around like a lost puppy. He's convinced he's clutching the glass of whiskey in his hand hard enough to shatter it as you curl up against his side. His cock is throbbing, and he seriously hopes you don't notice how the fabric of his jeans is getting a little strained.
You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you.
Fuck this.
He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.
“Leon… Leon, what're you doing?” You force out, small hands pressing at his chest as if you'd be able to knock him off. Cute. He'd fought creatures six times your size. You didn't stand a chance. 
He starts undressing you, and you start writhing and crying, hitting his chest with clenched fists. He swallows the lump that builds in his throat, wiping the tears that fall down your cheeks.
“Shh… it's okay, I'm… I'm gonna take care ‘f you.” He murmurs, his voice slightly slurred from how much he'd drunk. You cry even harder when he presses a finger into you, making the guilt rise up faster in him. That's not fair. He's being nice. God didn't bless him with much, but at least he gave him a fat cock. You should feel lucky he's prepping you. Not making him feel bad.
“Hey.” He warns, shoving another finger in just to shut you up. You finch when he scissors you open. Poor thing. “That's enough. One more complaint for you, and I'll just force myself in.”
Shit. Now he really does feel like a monster. He's not drunk enough to handle the pure terror on your face at his words. He fumbles on the coffee table with his free hand as he lazily pumps into you with the other. Glass? No. Bottle.
Maybe you need some, too. Get you nice and pliant so you'll take his dick without bitching. Not a bad idea. He twists the cap off with his teeth, gulping some of the liquid down himself. He takes another mouthful before leaning down to kiss you, spitting the liquid into the back of your throat. He keeps your mouth on yours even as you try to jerk away, making sure you swallow it.
You really are adorable as you start coughing and spluttering. Such a sweet thing, you probably hadn't even drunk before. He lifts the bottle to your mouth, pouring some more into your mouth before setting it down, covering your mouth. “Swallow.”
He starts thumbing at your clit as he fingers you, relishing in the ways your whimpers turn into soft moans, your hips bucking against his hand. He manages to coax an orgasm out of you with a few more touches, a big smile spreading across his face.
“There we go, sweetie. See, that wasn't so bad, was it?” He coos, unbuttoning his jeans. The sound of the zipper has your eyes widening in horror, and he tuts softly. “What're you giving me that look for? It's your turn to take care of me now.”
There goes the begging and pleading again. It has his brows pinching together as a frown tugs at his lips. You really are his brother's kid. So goddamn ungrateful. He just took care of you, and now you just want him to… what? Fist his dick in the guest room?
He smacks you so hard your head snaps to the side, your breaths coming out in short gasps. You look better like that, tears stinging your eyes but your body completely limp. He can see the fight draining out of your eyes.
“I was gonna be nice.” He mumbles, brows furrowing as he lines his tip up with your entrance, forcing himself inside in one thrust. He groans loudly, shuddering as your tight heat envelops him. His eyes look down, locked onto your cunt as he fucks into you with long strokes. He freezes when he notices blood. He's not sure if he's happy or disgusted that he's your first. No wonder you put up such a fight.
You keep weakly begging him to stop, but your pussy is gushing all over him. It's not his fault he can't stop – you're giving him the hottest look he's ever seen, and your puffy cunt is so fucking greedy for his cock, sucking him back in everytime he starts to pull out.
“S-sorry… I'm so sorry…” He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts, groaning at the sound of your punched out moans as he drives into you with as much force as he can muster. You almost sound like you're enjoying it, but you're still fucking crying and he can't take it. His heart hurts.
“Baby, please…” He whispers, squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to see the betrayal on your face. His arms tremble as he holds himself up, sloppily fucking into you. “I'm sorry… just stop cryin’, please…”
Every time his hips smack the fat of your ass, you're moaning out a ‘please’. With his eyes shut, he can pretend you're begging for more. That you like this. That is, until you start saying ‘stop’. He winces, but the movement of his hips doesn't falter.
“Fuck, baby… please stop begging.” He pleads, throwing his head back as his tip kisses your cervix. He whimpers as it makes you tighten around him, angling his thrusts to hit that spot each time he fully sheaths himself inside of you.
“I-I can't stop…you feel so… fuck. So fucking good. M'so close.” He groans. He can't even find the strength to pull out anymore. He buries himself balls deep in your cunt, grinding himself into your tight heat.
“L-Leon… please.” You say weakly, chest heaving with heavy breaths as panic sets in, your hands pushing at his chest. “Y-you gotta pull out, you can't… you can't.”
“What?” He breathes out, cracking his eyes open to look at you again. He looks genuinely confused. Why would he ever pull out when you felt so good? He can't bring himself to. “Baby, no. I'm cumming inside of you. Can't pull out now.”
That seems to bring your fight back. You start struggling under him again, punching him with all your strength. Luckily, that's not a lot. Especially when you're sluggish from your first time drinking and getting fucked. It's Leon's lucky day.
“Shit, baby. Don't look at me like that.” Or do. He's gonna cum if you keep staring up at him with that wide-eyed expression. “No need to be so scared, princess. I just… shit. Can't help myself.”
Doesn't take longer than a minute after that for him to finish. He buries his face in your neck, whining as he cums. His cock kicks inside of you, the warmth of his release filling every inch of you. You start sobbing all over again, slumping weakly against the couch.
He lies on top of you, his weight pressing you down into the couch. He pets your hair like you're a doll, his fingers carding through your hair.
“I'm sorry, baby. Forgive me. I'll be so good. Do whatever you want. Didn't mean it.” He murmurs, kissing your cheek over and over as if he's trying to get you to relax. He keeps it up until you fall asleep, wrapping you up in his arms.
When you wake up in the morning, you're fully dressed in your bed. You almost think it's a dream until you feel the dull throbbing between your legs.
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hikarinokusari · 2 years
Text
Me : I'm done helping people.
Someone contacts me through DM and asks for help
Me *is a clown anyway, provide the help*
Them after getting what they want, doesn't even say ty and ghosts when I ask if it works
Me : :) *look for a clown wig and the red nose yet another time*.
#hnk ramblings#i always say i'm done with people but can't help it if they ask for help and i always get clowned#anyway time to put my clown wig lol#will i overthink ? ofc this brain is fucked up and hasn't had 3 hours in a row of proper sleep for a week so lol#maybe more what is time idk#i'm so done though like really really done#anyway 🤡#i can't focus properly i spent all looking for the wrong stair on a map for 3 hours and counting the average number of steps and climbing#speed#because it's not a very useful question in the context so I'm pretty sure it will be asked somehow#lore question are how many steps are there in this stair and what is the dénivelé de la colline#i'd expected an answer after a week from them but i guess well. free creators and free helpers are just to be used and not thanked properly#anyway the pah didn't make sense because i was sure the stairs i wanted to use isn't theproper stair and i lost the right one and couldn't#find it anymore but honestly the maps are difficult to use as they are and lol#srsly they make sense but they are awful what is even this very very unpractible pov#anyway when u ask for help and get the help you reached out for#say thank you because 1 many people would make you pay for this and 2 ffs this is free help#3 politeness anybody ? no ?#i need a ty for closure reason but i'll be a asshole if i say hey you punk say ty for the free work i've done for you ffs <3 so i don't#but i wish people who acts like that to choke with their own saliva and die a brutal and painful death#anyway i need sleep i'm a clown and next saturday will surely be dull as hell and i need to learn how to properly dm.#it looks cool it is cool but when i find sth cool other people don't so /shrug#this dinner made me angry and hungry at the same time#anyway treat your creators and (free/paid) helper better.
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darylssunshine · 22 days
Text
Mine.
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Pairing: Daryl x Reader
Era: Commonwealth
Summary: Daryl indulges in one of your kinks.
Warnings: Poorly written smut, p in v, swearing, knives, choking
Word count: 1k (ish)
A/N: This is my first time writing smut so I am very scared LOL. The first fic you post on tumblr being smut can be very nerve-wracking. Just had Daryl indulging my knife kink rattling around in my brain and I got inspired.
~~~~~
“Shut th' fuck up, slut.”
A hand was pressed down onto your mouth as a growl exited his, while the other grasped both your wrists and held them above your head. Daryl's length was moving back and forth through your walls at a dizzying pace while your eyes rolled into the back of your head in pure bliss. Though your eyes were now wide open and staring directly at the redneck on top of you because of his previous comment. Your breath hitched and you nodded your head fervently. 
The hand that was previously pressed onto your mouth moved down to squeeze your throat, all while continuing to pound into you, causing a whine to crawl out of you, your mouth still closed. 
“Tryin’ to stay quiet for me like tha'. Good fuckin’ girl.” 
The mix of degradations and praise combined with the added pressure increasing on your throat had your head spinning and a knot building in your lower stomach. “Who do you fuckin’ belong to? Who is it, huh?” Daryl purposefully leaned down to growl against your ear, knowing each and every one of your turn ons. The mix of pain and pleasure was too much for your brain to handle, not being able to think a single thought, let alone a coherent sentence. So instead of answering, you gave a high-pitched moan in response, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth and onto your chest.
He smirked. He fucking smirked, and somehow quickened the pace.
Daryl gave a raspy grunt in disapproval and gripped your chin that was previously on your throat, forcing you to look at him directly. “Didn't hear ya, slut. Who d'ya belong to?”
You snapped out of your haze, not wanting to disappoint nor disobey him. “Y- … You.” You struggled to stutter out in between your fast breaths. 
“That's.” Thrust. “Fuckin’.” Thrust. “Right.” Thrust. 
He slowed his thrusts down to a lazy pace before stopping completely, earning a dramatic whine from the depths of your soul when you felt him slip out of you. “Dar!” You dragged in an annoyed tone, Daryl already stepping off the bed and onto the carpet. He simply chuckled lightly and rolled his eyes.
“Relax. Wanna try somethin'.”
He grabbed something from off of the shared dresser you had on the other side of the room, making sure you didn't see what it was and hid it behind his back. Slowly, he walked back to the bed and got in a sitting position, making direct eye contact the whole time, building anticipation. “C'mon over and ride me, but don't face me.”
Your brows furrowed in confusion, but you did as you were told, crawling on your hands and knees to the middle of the bed where Daryl now was, and gently eased yourself back onto his cock, bouncing slowly. “What's this about, Dar?” You questioned, your breath already beginning to quicken.
“You'll see. Just keep ridin', sunshine.” Once again, albeit confused, did as you were told, already getting comfortable with the position, letting small moans slip out, all while Daryl rubbed your hip with his left hand and still holding that unknown something in his right.
Immediately after those words left your mouth, his long, sharp, hunting knife met with the base of your throat, while his other free hand gripped your hair and tilted your head back, exposing even more of the soft flesh. And he was pushing on it, increasing the pressure with every thrust. He's went out hunting with that knife before you two even met, so you had no doubt he knew what he was doing, and that thought somehow turned you on more than you already were. He swiped it slightly along your clavicle, almost drawing blood.
“You ready, baby?”
Even while you were experiencing the bliss of riding his cock over and over, that elicited a chuckle from you. Why was he being so secretive? “For what, babe?”
Your mouth went slack. No noise exited you besides your exaggerated breathing and your, frankly, embarrassing loud moans.
“There it is. You're such a fuckin’ slut. My slut. Makin' you feel so good, huh?”
All your senses were heightened. You were on cloud nine and barely even heard what he said besides registering his low, raspy, growling. Daryl was making you a wet, blubbering mess, and he only wished he could see what those eyes looked like rolled in the back of your head. So he resorted to the voice again. (He figured out about that kink the very first night you spent with each other. “You're really obvious, y'know that?”)
“Use ya words, bitch. Are you mah slut ere not?” Daryl spoke lowly but with assertion, his accent becoming more and more noticeable.
“Yes! Yes! Oh fuck, yes!” You responded emphatically, not only answering his question, but letting him know how good he's making you feel. 
“You gonna cum all over this cock for me, sunshine?”
“Fuck, yes. Yes, I will. Oh fuck…” You're surprised you even answered his question with the state you were in, but you did, albeit breathlessly. Daryl chuckled and put a bit more pressure on your throat, moving up to the middle this time. 
The knot in your lower stomach got tighter and tighter, and with a couple thrusts to your sweet spot while rasping sweet nothings in your ear, you saw white, feeling your cunt drip with Daryl's cum down onto your thighs and roll down onto his. You almost collapsed forward, but you felt a pair of strong arms grip your midsection before throwing the knife away from the two of you with a flick of his wrist.
Daryl placed gentle kisses on the side of your neck and then your temple. He hugged you from behind, his cock still buried within you.
“Hey Dar?” He slowly eased your back up against his firm chest, making it easier for him to lock eyes with you.
“Hm?” He purred.
~~~~~
“Can you do that again sometime?” You asked softly in between trying to catch your breath. He chuckled once again and punctuated it with a sweet, open-mouthed kiss to the lips.
“Hell yeah, I will.”
God. I NEED HIM.
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multi-kpop-fanfics · 8 months
Text
Vodka Slime
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pairing: alien!Seungcheol x fem!reader
genre: smut, mild comedy. minors dni.
warnings: monsterfucking, use of tentacles, dom!seungcheol, bratty reader, pussy slapping, bondage, implied size kink (reader is smaller than seungcheol), tummy bulge, squirting, masturbating, unprotected sex but reader is on the pill (pls stay safe), dirty talk, recording during sex (consensual but DON'T DO IT IRL), reader runs a nsfw twitter acc, alcohol consumption
word count: 2.7k
summary: picking up a hot guy from a bar to spend the night with was in your bucket list. him being an alien wasn't. not that you really complain.
Author's note: Spooky season is here and what better way to participate than a spooky smutty theme :) this was a request from Y anon!
p.s.: main inspiration for this fic was drawn by @meltwonu's Starlighter fic, it is a MUST read (like the rest of monster mash lmaooo)
taglist: @duhnova @smileysuh @gyuwoncheol (kindly suffer <3)
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
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You kinda wish you had stayed at home.
You thought it would be a good idea to dress up and go to a bar on your own to enjoy a cocktail, hoping for a stroke of luck - Alas, things don’t always go your way.
If you had stayed home, you would be in comfy clothes or maybe no clothes at all, thinking of which toy you want to fuck yourself with. 
You let out a huff and you take your cocktail in your hand, opting for a ‘random walk’ around the bar (you just want to spot a single guy who wouldn’t mind to get laid tonight), but as soon as you turn around, you collide with a very firm body and your cocktail ends up splashing all over your top.
“Fuck!” You gasp when the ice cold beverage hits your skin, desperately looking for napkins to clean up the newly made mess.
“Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that!” He apologizes profusely as he asks for napkins from the bartender. “Here, these should help somehow.” He passes you the napkins and you accept them with a grumble, trying your best to clean up yourself.
“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, miss?”
“You can only-” you almost snap at him but your words die down in your throat when you raise your head and take a good look at the unknown man.
And all you see is the stroke of luck you were wishing for all night long.
Semi-pulled back white hair, slightly messed up from the wind outside, a tight fitted shirt accentuating his toned pecs and a jawline sharp enough to cut through your clothes.
“Well…” You put down the used napkins, “I wouldn’t mind a refill of that cocktail I was drinking.”
The unknown man flashes a rather adorable gummy smile and effortlessly takes a couple of bills out of his wallet.
“That, I can definitely do.”
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"So, a college student. That's pretty cool."
You almost snort in your drink. "Oh yeah, it's so cool to stress over random classes because the professor happens to be a dickhead." 
"Hey, don't downplay your achievements. It's not like everyone has the brains to attend college, you know." The man plays with the rim of his glass.
"It's actually funny how hard you're trying to get my attention, while you don't even know my name." You down your cocktail.
"And here I was wondering whether you'd bring it up or not." He chuckles. 
"Well? Are you satisfied now, mister I don't know-what-your-name-is?"
"Seungcheol. Choi Seungcheol."
"What?"
"That's my name, doll."
"Oh." You gulp down. "That's a very nice name you have there."
“So I’ve been told before.”
“By other girls, I suppose?”
“I’m not obligated to share this information, doll.”
“Suit yourself then.” You shrug and open your purse, taking out a small folded mirror to check your makeup.
“I’m impressed.” Seungcheol licks the corner of his mouth, “It’s the first time someone isn’t giving their attention to me.”
“You either have a bloated ego or you’re a desperate attention whore. Or both, I guess.” You sigh.
“And you have a pretty foul mouth for such a pretty face.”
“Cliché.”
“Did it work?”
“I’m not obligated to share this information, mister Choi.” You mimic his attitude.
“Are you even willing to share something with me, other than a drink?” He huffs.
“To be completely honest, I was hoping to come here and snatch a cutie back home to have fun with, but things are looking kinda grim.”
Seungcheol flashes a wide smirk. “What a wonderful coincidence, for our goals to be aligned tonight.”
“You’re here to hit it off with someone too?”
“Yeah. And to be fair, you’re looking way too hot and way too lonely to not get laid tonight.”
“Are you suggesting I should fuck you, Seungcheol?”
“I was planning on using more subtle words but I suppose this is also a way to approach things.”
You take a few seconds to yourself, pondering about Seungcheol’s proposal.
Cons - he’s a complete stranger and could be a murderer.
Pros - he’s fucking hot and you could get new content for your account.
“I have one question.”
“Fire away, doll.”
“You’re not some kind of crazy ass murderer, right?”
Seungcheol snorts. “Murderer? Nope."
He brings himself closer to you. "But the crazy ass depends on the context."
"I think we both know the context." You lick your lips.
"Then I hope you're into crazy stuff, doll."
Boy, he's in for a treat.
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"That's a nice setup you have here."
"Thanks." You smile and take off your shoes.
"Are you a streamer?" 
"Hmm, not really."
"There's no shame in saying you're a camgirl." Seungcheol chuckles.
"I never said that and I definitely didn't try to hide it." You retort.
"Judging from the box of dildos being out in the open on your desk, I would agree to the latter."
"Do they make you feel uncomfortable, Seungcheol?"
"Not at all." He walks towards the desk and picks up a neon colored, tentacle shaped dildo. "Is this what you play with?"
You sit down on the bed and cross your legs sensually. "Got a problem with that?"
"Not really." Seungcheol drops the toy in the box. "It's a shame to play with fake stuff when you can have access to the real stuff."
You snort. "What, you're into that fake tentacles porn?" 
He flashes a smirk and removes his jacket and t-shirt, you let out a whistle at the sight of his naked torso. 
The excitement you had stored in your body evaporates within milliseconds when you see extra large sized tentacles coming out of Seungcheol's back, looming over him.
"Okay whoa, that is NOT what I was expecting!" 
"I know it's shocking, but I have zero intention to hurt you-"
You crawl away from him. "Your little friends don't seem to share the sentiment!" 
"I am the one who controls them, I can pull them back if you want me to."
"I- I just-"
"Look, I can just put my clothes back on and disappear from your apartment, like I never even existed in the first place."
"W-Wait! I, um-"
"Take your time, Y/N."
"Can you try not to put these things near my mouth please?"
"Since you asked so nicely, I have no choice but to comply."
Seungcheol crawls on the bed and cages you between his body and the mattress, peppering kisses across your jawline to make you feel more comfortable.
"Do you mind if I kiss you? I promise my lips are nothing like my tentacles."
"Oh my God, just shut up and kiss me!" You grab his face with your hands and smash your lips on his, slipping your tongue in his mouth, but it doesn't last for long, as he pulls away and pins your hands above your head.
"What got into you all of a sudden, doll?"
"Maybe I thought things over again and decided that fucking a hot guy with tentacles isn't a terrible idea." 
"I thought you weren't into that thing?"
"Half of my porn content is with tentacle dildos, please get real."
Seungcheol scoffs. "You little brat."
He lifts himself off you and with a tilt of his head, his tentacles wrap around your torso and legs, restricting you midair.
"You fucker! This is foul play!" You yelp.
He leans back on the headrest of the bed, looking at you with hungry eyes. "Everything is fair in war, love and sex, doll. I’m just spicing up things a little." 
Two more of his tentacles come up to your body, one ripping your top in half and the other flipping your skirt to reveal your bare pussy.
“Fuck you, I liked that top!”
“It was already ruined, sweetheart, don’t think too much of it. No underwear though? That's hot."
"It's called easy access, himbo."
Seungcheol clicks his tongue in annoyance and whips one of his tentacles over your pussy, making you whine.
"You're being a lil' smartass and it could get you in trouble, Y/N."
"Do your worst, Kraken."
The tentacle glides between your lips with the tip repeatedly nudging your clit when it suddenly whips your pussy again and you close your legs involuntarily.
"Ah ah ah, we're not having any of that." 
The tentacles tighten around your legs and keep them wide open, while the third one keeps rubbing your pussy slowly enough for the suckers to tease your sensitive parts.
"Ah! Fuck!" You moan when the slimy object slaps your cunt over and over again, your juices starting to drip on your asscheeks and all over the sheets.
"Drenched already? I haven't even fucked you yet, doll." Seungcheol chuckles as he strokes his cock, his pants discarded a long time ago.
"It's all f-fun and games when you're the o-one sitting on the bed!" You whine in defeat.
Your lips fall open when after a particular harsh slap, the tentacle effortlessly pushes into your entrance, turning around and rubbing your walls in an excruciatingly slow manner.
"Oh…my God…Fuck, that feels so fucking good."
Seungcheol raises his eyebrow. "You feel a tad bit loose, sweetheart." 
"And w-what about it?"
You nearly scream when another, thicker tentacle enters your pussy and thrusts harder than the other one. You feel your walls being stretched out, the foreign bodies in your hole proving to be bigger than the toys you use.
“Now it feels just right.” Seungcheol moans, as if it was his dick fucking you stupid. “Can’t wait to have you all wrapped around my cock, doll.”
“F-Fu- Cheol, I’m gonna cum!” You gasp when the tentacles pick up the pace and ram your cunt without mercy.
“Come on, doll, show me what this pussy is capable of.” Seungcheol grunts as he fists his cock harder to bring himself closer to his climax.
A sharp shriek erupts from your throat - you squirt all over your thighs and the slimy appendices, juices dripping down on the sheets and Seungcheol’s legs. His cock explodes all over his torso, streaks of thick white cum splashing on his skin.
The tentacles around your body relax just enough to let you plop down on the mattress, leaving your skin sticky and covered with a thin, slimy substance. He slowly retracts them altogether and they disappear from your field of view, as if they never existed in the first place.
“I can’t feel my legs.”
Seungcheol crawls on the mattress until he’s hovering above you. “That’s cute. But I’m afraid I’m not done with you yet, doll.”
Your eyes go wide when you notice the sheer size of his cock resting on top of your stomach and you’re pretty sure it’s way bigger than anything else you’ve taken before.
“There’s no fucking way that thing will fit in me!”
“That’s what you said about my tentacles, but you took them like a pro.”
“That’s different!” You protest.
“Different how?”
You purse your lips.
“Different how, Y/N?” Seungcheol slaps his cock between your legs and you whimper.
“It’s….so fucking big, Cheol….”
“Are you scared?”
“A little bit, yeah.”
“We can always take it slow, pretty girl. Are you on the pill?”
You nod your head slowly and hook your fingers around the elastic band of the skirt to take it off, but he stops you.
“The skirt stays on.”
“It could get in the way, though.”
“Pull it just enough to let your pussy show.”
“Wait, I’ve got an idea.” You say and point towards the video camera on the desk. “Can you grab it for me?”
“What do you have in mind, doll?”
“Since it might take some effort to make it fit…” You turn on the camera and hand it over to him, “Might as well show my followers how it’s done, right?”
Seungcheol flashes a dirty smirk before he points the camera to your pussy, his tip nudging your entrance. You wince a little when the bulbous head pushes into your hole, a strangled moan escaping from your mouth when you try to fit in more of his shaft.
“Easy now, I’m not going anywhere, doll.”
He swipes his free hand over his abs to pick up the cum that hasn’t dried yet and smears it all over his length, using it as lube.
“S-Stop teasing me…”
“‘M sorry doll, but I don't wanna rip your pretty pussy apart.”
“Fuck, I can take it, promise!” You arch your back and buck your hips in the air.
Seungcheol flattens his free hand over your stomach and pins you down. “You will take only what I wanna give you, sweetheart. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Your walls clench around his tip and he has the audacity to bring the camera closer to the spot you’re connected to each other, only to push his fat cock all the way to the base.
“Fuuuuuck, it’s huge…” Your eyes roll back and your pussy spasms like crazy, trying your best to accommodate his size.
“Good girl, I knew you’d take it all in.” Seungcheol rasps as he rubs his palm over the newly formed bulge in your tummy, “Such a tiny pussy yet you managed to fit all of it. I think you deserve a treat for this.”
His hand moves to your left hip and he starts thrusting inside you, setting a slow pace at first.
You moan loudly with each thrust he delivers and you slide one of your hands directly over the spot that bulges from his cock.
“Not so snarky now, are you?”
“M-More…”
“More what, doll? Use your big girl words.”
“M-More power, harder, please!” You beg between sobs.
“I was planning on dragging it out a bit more, but fuck, you’re gripping me like a vice and I can’t wait to blow my load in your pussy, doll.”
He pulls the camera a bit further away to get a full view of your and his lower half, ensuring none of your faces are visible in the video. He answers your pleas by fucking you harder and faster than his tentacles did and he can swear his sanity is starting to slip away.
“S-Shit, you’re- Fuck! It’s so good!” You scream and grip the sheets around you, your tits bouncing up and down.
“Mmmh, I’m about to cum, baby- Gonna take it all deep, will you?” Seungcheol moans above you, trying to keep the camera steady.
“Yes, yes yes, fuck me full with your load, daddy!” You cry out and your thighs shake as you cum around his cock, your wet walls rapidly clenching around his huge shaft.
“Fuuuck….” He delivers a few shallow thrusts before he buries himself to the hilt, blowing his thick load inside your pussy until a white ring of cum forms around his base. He doesn’t hesitate to take out his cock with an obscene pop and spurt the remnants of his orgasm over your pussy and your skirt.
“That…was fucking amazing.” Seungcheol taps his cock on your clit, chuckling when you bite your lips to suppress your moans.
“Close…the camera…” You mutter and he presses the button to stop the recording.
He puts the camera down and lays right next to you, ghosting his fingers over your abused cunt. 
“So? Do you think it was a waste of time to bring me back home?”
You grip his wrist and bring his hand in front of your face, licking his digits clean.
“Only an idiot would consider you a waste of time, Cheol.”
“Does that mean you’re down to exchange numbers?”
“Are you not-so-subtly asking for another time?” You rake your pointer finger across his chest.
“Perhaps I am,” he confirms, “Not to mention that one time isn’t anywhere near enough to show you what I can truly do with my tentacles.”
“One question - Do your tentacles spit stuff like in hentai?”
Seungcheol snorts and erupts into a laughing fit, to the point of tears.
You slap his arm. “What’s so funny?! I’m serious!”
“I know! It was still funny,” he wipes his tears away, “But I can’t answer your question yet.”
“And why is that?”
He smirks again.
“That would just spoil the fun for next time, doll.”
1K notes · View notes
pin-k-ink · 1 month
Text
rendezvous // nanami kento
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tw ⇢ implied age gap, possessive!nanami, sexual tension, teasing, gloryhole, fingering, grinding, dub-con, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, biting, rough sex
wc ⇢ 6.4k
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The door to Nanami's apartment burst open without preamble, the familiar whirlwind of energy you'd come to associate with your personal brand of chaos already whipping through the space.
"Nanami-san!" Your melodious voice rang out in greeting before you even fully crossed the threshold. "You'll never guess what outrageous thing just happ---ooh..."
Your impish flow of words stuttered to an abrupt halt as you caught sight of Nanami emerging from the bathroom. A towel hung precariously low around those slender hips you'd admired far too many times, leaving miles of toned muscle and glistening skin distractingly on display.
Despite your own tendency to flirt shamelessly, you still felt heat blossoming across your cheekbones at the unexpectedly intimate sight. Somehow you managed to rally enough to let your eyes perform a very slow, unabashed rake down the ridge of his abdomen and back up again.
"Well hello there, Nanami-san," you purred with a devilish lilt, emboldened by the brief flare of something akin to panic flickering across his typically unruffled features. "Don't mind me, please...continue putting on a show."
There it was - that fractional tightening at the corners of his clear grey eyes that signaled you'd successfully managed to rattle him, if only momentarily. Nanami tugged the towel a bit higher with an air of lofty disregard even as he arched one cool brow.
"You're incorrigible, you realize that?" His deep timbre managed to convey fond exasperation despite the husky undercurrent your mind unhelpfully insisted on reading into. "What part of boundaries or personal space fails to register with that troublesome brain of yours?"
You made a big show of propping your chin in your palms and appeared to consider his faux-stern chiding with exaggerated seriousness. "Well, now that you mention it...wiggling my way into your personal space uninvited is one of my favorite hobbies. Especially when you react like that."
Relishing the sight of the muscle feathering along Nanami's squared jawline, you punctuated your remark with another shameless once-over that had him huffing out a longsuffering sigh. You counted it as a victory any time that impeccably stoic facade chipped even a little.
"You're insufferable," he muttered again, somehow managing to infuse the insult with grudging fondness even as his eyes glittered like flint. "Well? Out with it then. What petulant nonsense demands my attention this time?"
Waving a hand carelessly, you straightened and finally tore your roving gaze away from the feast for the eyes that was Nanami's physique. "Oh, you know...the usual. One of your fellow Jujutsu sorcerers was being a disrespectful ass, prompting me to put him squarely in his place. By which I mean I may have given him a black eye..."
Nanami simply stared at you for a long beat, clearly trying to discern if you were joking or not. When your bright, innocent expression didn't crack, he blew out an exasperated sigh and scrubbed one hand down his face.
"Of course you did..." He muttered the words more to himself than you. "I don't know why I even bother questioning the antics you'll stoop to anymore."
"Hey!" You acted affronted, putting your hands on your hips. "That jerk had it coming. He made a few off-color remarks that I simply couldn't ignore."
Nanami's gaze sharpened a bit at that. "Remarks aimed at you?"
There was an undercurrent in his tone that sent a little thrill down your spine. You fought back a grin, having successfully piqued the protective edge you so loved provoking.
Waving a dismissive hand, you assured, "Nothing I couldn't handle, trust me. Let's just say that pig will be rethinking his vocabulary from here on out."
The slightest downturn of Nanami's lips signaled his disapproval, but rather than lecture, he simply shook his head. "I shouldn't be surprised you took matters into your own hands, as usual."
"You know how I abhor jerks who can't keep their traps shut," you said breezily, plopping down on his couch like you owned the place and stretching out languidly. You made sure to let your shirt ride up just a bit, offering a teasing glimpse of toned abdomen.
True to form, Nanami's eyes strayed there for the barest flicker before he averted his gaze with an undecipherable grunt. You bit back a grin of triumph.
"Why do I get the feeling you went out of your way to instigate this...black eye instance," he drawled after a moment, rejoining you in the living area. His towel had been swapped for a simple t-shirt and lounge pants that rode dangerously low on his hips. You made no effort to hide your frankly appraising gaze this time.
Stretching your arms up over your head, you played innocent. "Whatever do you mean?"
"Don't play coy." Nanami fixed you with that no-nonsense stare that always made something in the pit of your stomach go warm and liquidy. "You actively court trouble when left to your own devices."
"I simply have zero tolerance for rude, ill-mannered asses who deserve to be taken down a peg." You shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm doing the world a public service, really."
Nanami scoffed at that, but you caught the subtle twitch of his lips in a suppressed smirk. "A public service, she says..."
"Oh, admit it." You shot him a sly look, getting up and closing the distance between you with a provocative sway of your hips. "You love how I never back down from a conflict. How I always dish it back twice as hard as I get it."
Nanami visibly stiffened as you invaded his personal space, though his expression remained studiedly impassive. "And just what," he murmured in a pitched undertone, "is that supposed to imply, exactly?"
You grinned slowly, delighting in the way his gunmetal eyes involuntarily dropped to trace the swell of your lips. "Oh, I think you know perfectly well what I'm implying, Nanami-san..."
Trailing one fingertip up the center of his chest, you relished the way his musculature twitched beneath the whisper-light caress. Felt his shallow inhale as you leaned in until the subtlest shift would bring your bodies flush together.
"You can play dumb all you want," you murmured, purposefully allowing your warm breath to fan across his parted lips. "But we both know you get off on my...tenacious spirit, so to speak."
Nanami's jaw worked wordlessly for a moment, those versatile eyes darkening with unreadable intent. When he spoke again, his deep timbre had taken on a distinctly reverberated edge that danced like static electricity across your nerves.
"You seem to be operating under the misguided impression that I find your hotheaded antics charming in the slightest." One calloused palm rose to splay against your hip, the blistering heat of his skin raising delicious prickles despite the layers between you. "When in fact...I find them unbecoming. Childish, even."
You couldn't repress your full-body shiver at the subtle increase of pressure from his fingertips digging into your waistline. Nanami's mouth curved into a sharp smile at your reaction, gaze locked with searing intensity.
"Then again, perhaps a little...discipline might go a long ways towards reforming your more reckless habits." He punctuated the oblique suggestion by slowly trailing his other palm up the slender column of your neck until he cradled your jaw with just a hint of constriction.
Fire lanced through your veins at the titillating implication and naked challenge burning in Nanami's stare. You allowed your lashes to dip in a pointed sweep as a flush crept across your cheekbones.
"Is that...Is that a promise, Nanami-san?" You all but purred, leaning further into the scorching brand of his coaxing grip. "Because you know how I do love a good...disciplinary session..."
An imperceptible muscle ticked high on his cheekbone. Then Nanami gently but firmly extracted himself from your tangled orbit, spinning away to put critical distance between you. His next words emerged pitched low enough to resonant straight through your solar plexus.
"As tempting as that proposal is, you and I both know it's a dangerous road to travel." A weighty pause as you stared, rooted and ragingly at the rigid line of his back. "Play with fire often enough and someone inevitably gets burned, little wildflower."
He threw the husky endearment your way over one corded shoulder before slipping towards the kitchen, leaving you flushed and thunderously aroused and more than a little confused by his abrupt dismissal.
Something indecipherable and molten seeped beneath Nanami's parting words, igniting embers you couldn't allow yourself to fully comprehend lest they catch and blaze into wildfire between you. You were left with the unsettling feeling that behind the constant push-and-pull provocations you'd grown accustomed to...a deeper truth was steadily taking defiant root.
The next time you barged into Nanami's apartment unannounced, it was to find him fresh from the shower once again. He emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel slung precariously low on his hips, damp hair in artful disarray.
You froze mid-stride, rapidly becoming an expert at not overtly ogling despite the instinctive flare of heat suffusing your gaze. Nanami merely arched one brow at your abrupt halt, calm as a lake at dawn.
"Boundaries, wildflower," was his only chiding as he brushed past you towards the bedroom to dress. "Do learn them."
You snapped your jaw shut, determined not to be so easily flustered into silence. Turning, you trailed after him with purposefully loud footfalls. "You say that, and yet it's clear you have no problem prancing about with your delicious body on display, sensei."
The slightest falter in Nanami's stride was the only indication he registered your boldly provocative tone. Rallying, you closed the distance until you could reach out and brazenly trail fingertips along the rigid planes of his back.
"One might even think," you practically purred, "that you leave so little to the imagination on purpose. As a...delectable temptation."
Nanami stilled then, a detectable frisson of awareness tightening his shoulders. His next exhale emerged slightly more uneven. "Is that so?"
You hummed a wordless affirmative, thoroughly enjoying the way he was so clearly struggling to maintain that vaunted stoicism. "Oh, absolutely. Which begs the question...who exactly is the tease here, sensei?"
When Nanami turned at last, his expression was severe enough to stoke fresh heat through your veins. In two large strides he was looming into your personal space, turbulent eyes searching your expression.
"You're playing a very dangerous game, wildflower," he murmured in that raspy timbre that never failed to liquify your insides. "One I'm not certain you have the...discipline to withstand."
You tilted your head, aiming for an air of nonchalance despite the wild thrumming of your pulse. "And if I said that was exactly the sort of game I wanted us to play?"
Something flickered behind Nanami's gaze then - a blazing mix of hunger, yearning, cherished restraint. His hand lifted as though of its own volition to cup the line of your jaw, thumb rasping along the swell of your lower lip. You shuddered at the overwhelming intimacy of the contact.
"Then I'd advise extreme caution, little wildflower," Nanami husked, robbing you of breath. "Because this particular game has very...severe consequences if indulged for overlong."
You swayed towards him like a flower seeking the sun's warmth. "Is that a promise...or a threat, sensei?"
Nanami's lashes swept downward briefly, shielding his expression. Then his fingers contracted in a searing grip, tilting your face upwards once more to impale you with a look more heated than a newborn star going supernova.
"From me?" His voice emerged little more than a graveled rasp edged with dark sin. "Always...both."
Then he released you, spinning away with an abruptness that nearly sent you staggering in its wake. You blinked dazedly for several moments before finding your voice.
"You can't keep running from this, you know," you called after Nanami's retreating back, striving for some semblance of composure. "Whatever...this is."
He paused in the threshold leading out as if weighted down by your quiet accusation. For an endless beat, you didn't think he'd respond. Then finally his head inclined a fraction.
"No..." The deep timbre seemed to come from someplace infinite and cavernous within him. "But neither can you keep recklessly goading the beast, wildflower. Not unless you're prepared for when it inevitably turns...and gives everything you're baiting it to consume."
The unspoken warning hung taut and thrumming between you like a live wire as Nanami exited without a backward glance. As always, you were left scorched yet painfully unfulfilled by one more near miss on the razor's edge of capitulation. Left to wonder just how many more times you could bait the line between you before one of you finally tumbled over into the abyss.
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It was one of those unseasonably warm nights when not even the whirring air conditioning unit could quite displace the thick, languid humidity that seemed to cling to every surface. You shifted restlessly on Nanami's couch, skin feeling feverish and tightly confined by your lightweight loungewear.
"Are you always this fidgety?" Nanami's dry remark dragged your gaze over to where he sat in the nearby armchair, seemingly unbothered by the stifling mugginess. Unlike you, he looked perfectly at ease in a thin sleeveless top and loose pants.
You tried not to stare too overtly at the bared expanse of toned arms and chest on display, but it was difficult not to be transfixed. Nanami radiated an almost elemental sort of virility in the low lighting that made your mouth water.
Forcing your attention upwards with arduous effort, you shot him a flat look. "Easy for you to say, all cool and composed over there."
One dark brow inched upwards at your unsubtle admiration and subsequent grumbling. "Are you quite alright, wildflower? You seem..."
"Don't start with me," you warned, unable to disguise the breathless lilt your voice had taken on. You tugged at the neckline of your shirt, trying fruitlessly to coax in a cross breeze. "It's stifling as hell in here."
Nanami's gaze grew distinctly hooded at the motion, tracking the bead of sweat that trailed down the hollow of your throat. "Is that so?"
You fought back a squirm at the molten weight of his stare roving your heated skin. "Yes, so unless you've got a better way to cool me off..."
The suggestive words hung heavily between you. An inviting sort of hush seemed to settle over the room as the air conditioning unit puttered to a halt in the corner. A few protracted beats of silence ticked by, the only sounds your mingled breaths.
Then Nanami unfolded himself from his chair with that unhurried, predatory grace you'd come to admire. You were already flushed warm from the smothering atmosphere, but fresh heat prickled outwards across your exposed curves at his approach.
Rather than stop or re-establish the usual measurable distance between you, Nanami continued stalking forth until his shins brushed the sofa. Your breath came a little quicker as he loomed over you.
"There are," he said at last, deep tone thrumming like a resonant bassline through your nerve endings, "other ways to find relief from the swelter."
The sheltering weight of his body blocked out most of the low light, casting you in austere shadow. As if moving in slow dream sequence, Nanami braced one knee beside your hip on the couch and extended a calloused palm to toy with the top button of your shirt.
You swallowed audibly, utterly pinned beneath his smoldering scrutiny as one by one, those deft fingers slipped each fastening free. The thin material slowly parted to expose damp skin and bra-covered breasts slicked with perspiration. Nanami's heavy exhalation stirred wisps of hair at your flushed nape.
"Allow me..." he murmured, so softly the words seemed to skim your parted lips.
Then one broad palm seared a scorching trail up your abdomen and over your ribs, leaving sizzling imprints in its wake. You arched helplessly into the shocking contact before Nanami smoothed back down again in an unbearably light caress. Over and over until you were trembling and dizzy, nerves going haywire beneath his carnal ministrations.
When Nanami eventually drifted to a stop with his knuckles just grazing your lower belly, you were panting harshly. He regarded you through lowered lashes with an indecipherable gleam in his turbulent eyes.
"Better?" Nanami rasped at last.
You could only shakily incline your head, not trusting your voice. He hummed vague acknowledgment, then leaned in until you could taste the bittersweet tang of his skin on the hot exhale that gusted across your slick throat.
"Good..." Nanami's voice plunged to a bass register that seemed to resonate within your very bones. "Because we're just...getting...started..."
Those last words emerged with searing emphasis alongside the smoldering graze of his teeth against your hammering pulse point. You didn't even have time to process the full-body convulsion that lashed through your every atom.
With one final inscrutable look, Nanami rose and turned on his heel for the refuge of his bedroom without further comment. Leaving you scorched and reeling and somehow aching more intensely than before in the aftermath of his singularly incendiary attentions.
The charged encounters seemed to escalate after that pivotal night of Nanami doling out his own scorching brand of torturous relief. As if a dam had fractured, allowing those deeper undercurrents to steadily bleed through in increasingly overt ways.
You started noticing the little unconscious habits – like how Nanami would trap you with that darkly penetrating stare and simply hold your gaze hostage for protracted beats. Saying nothing, but letting the weighty lasciviousness of his attention prickle satisfying frissons across your nerves.
Or the way his palms seemed to migrate towards any naked slice of your skin when you occupied the same space. Calloused fingertips feathering delirious patterns along your arms, the dip of your spine, the swell of your ankle as if staking proprietary claim. Never overt enough to blatantly cross lines, but absolutely calculated to leave you buzzing on that razor's edge of sweet agony.
In the training rooms, the subtle touches evolved into something more...purposeful. Nanami's solid frame would bracket you from behind under the guise of adjusting your stance or redirecting a strike. His pelvis would grind lightly but meaningfully against your backside as anvil-calloused palms mapped the feminine curves of your body in sweeping, indolent arcs.
You'd shudder overtly at the branded heat of Nanami's chest sealing against your back, ogni sculpted ridge and hollow etched in searing bas-relief. The rasp of his words would gust hotly against the nape of your neck, each consonant seeming to reverberate straight through to your very core in delicious impact tremors.
"Loosen your grip, wildflower..." He'd murmur with quiet authority, those skilled fingertips adjusting your wrist ever-so-slightly. "Don't let the tension compromise your form."
You always fought not to whimper at the flickering caresses skating so perilously close to your breasts and inner thighs. But Nanami never missed the tremors that betrayed your responses, nostrils flaring as if he could physically sense the spiking arousal suffusing your scent.
Sometimes you wondered if he did it on purpose - stoking those banked embers until your entire universe contracted down to the searing brand of his touch claiming you from all sides. Other times you knew with dizzying certainty Nanami was simply struggling not to fully unravel like you, forcing every iota of discipline not to tumble over that event horizon together.
Those unguarded moments always began the same - with you mindlessly palming a paperweight or odd trinket on his desk while waiting for Nanami to finish reviewing some bureaucratic report. Focusing so intently on anything besides how deliciously snug his shirt clung to those carved planes of musculature that you missed Nanami straightening from his task.
Suddenly the heavy, grounding warmth of Nanami's broad palm would engulf yours, fingers curling to halt the idle motions. You'd suck in a sharp inhale at the overwhelming physicality and subtle dominance of the hold even as Nanami crowded in from behind. Close enough that the scorching furnace of his chest brushed your back with each cycle of breath.
You knew better than to so much as shift beneath that vise-like anchor. Instead, you'd go utterly still and pliant, waiting with thundering heart for whatever darkly intimate encounter Nanami seemed intent on precipitating.
Sure enough, his unoccupied hand would eventually alight upon some stretch of naked skin. The sensitive inner crease of your elbow, perhaps, or dust featherlight across your collarbone. You'd tremble violently despite willing every synapse not to react, feeling the blistering heat of Nanami's stare tracking each micro-response.
"Keep still," he'd husk in that decadent timbre that somehow carried the laconic menace of a growl.
Then his palm would slowly, inexorably glide upwards in a searing map – following each tendon and hollow with merciless precision. Tracing the fragile wrist, meandering higher along your forearm in unhurried exploration until you writhed beneath the exquisite torture.
Only for Nanami to just as abruptly release and pivot away before shattering either of your rapidly thinning veneers of control. Leaving you frayed but unfulfilled, forced to clutch slick fists against clenching thighs while surreptitiously willing your body back from that precipice.
Each time, he'd turn just before exiting and pin you with a look so molten, so fraught with escalating promise, that you felt branded straight through to your very atoms. A look that clearly said one of these encounters would finally crest into irrevocable capitulation...
It was only a matter of whittling down whose restraints unraveled first.
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The cursed spirit had been more formidable than anticipated, ripping through the crumbling ruins and scattering debris like a vengeful tornado. You'd gotten separated from Nanami amid the chaos, flushed out into a small courtyard overrun with thick vegetation.
The explosive force of the cursed spirit detonating the ground sent you tumbling head over heels. Debris pelted you from all sides as the world dissolved into a disorientating vortex of darkness and noise.
Eventually, you fetched up hard against uneven surfaces - the wind forcibly expelled from your lungs. Dazed, you blinked against the ringing in your ears and tried to get your bearings.
That's when you realized the precarious positioning you'd ended up in. Your upper body was sprawled face down on one side of a deep crevasse in the courtyard's surface. But your hips and legs were wedged firmly on the opposite side of the narrow gap, splayed obscenely with your backside lewdly displayed.
You wiggled experimentally, but whatever rubble and stonework had you pinned refused to budge an inch. The sound of approaching footsteps filtering through the dust had you stilling instantly, stomach swooping with anxious trepidation.
"Wildflower?" Nanami's authoritative baritone cut through the settling debris like a blade as his tall silhouette emerged from the gloom. "Are you--"
His words stuttered off in a momentary pause as he clearly registered the revealing way you were positioned. You flushed hotly, not needing to look back over your shoulder to feel the weight of his piercing assessment raking across your trapped body.
A protracted beat of silence stretched between you, thick enough to almost taste. Then Nanami continued his unhurried advance until you could sense the imposing bulk of his frame looming squarely behind you.
You hunched instinctively, adrenaline spiking despite yourself as his next words emerged amid the susurrant whisper of him crouching down directly at your exposed backside.
"My, my..." There was a slumberous sort of appreciation threaded through his deep timbre that raised prickles across your sensitized nerves. "You certainly have an uncanny penchant for ending up in the most...precarious situations, little wildflower."
The lightest feather-brush of his fingertips traced up the sensitive tendons of your inner ankle in blatant suggestion - a measured, purposeful caress that had you sucking in a sharp inhale. Nanami didn't miss your microreaction if his low, rumbling chuckle was any indication.
"One might start to think you choreograph such incidents." Another few idle sweeps higher along your calf raised electrifying contrails in their wake. "Practically begging for...intensive correction through whatever intimate disciplinary methods I deem suitable."
You clenched your jaw, fighting the delirious spiral of heat those subtly lascivious implications stoked despite yourself. Still, you couldn't quite repress the full-bodied shiver as his calloused palms skated up your outer thighs in unerringly light, scorching trails.
Inch by agonizing inch, Nanami's hands roamed higher in unhurried exploration. Mapping every twitch and tremor you unsuccessfully tried to stifle as his fingertips blazed scorching paths along the innermost apex of your splayed thighs.
"So eager..." His approving rumble seemed to resonate straight through your very marrow. "Even in this unorthodox setting, your form practically begs for correction, wildflower."
You squeezed your eyes shut against the kaleidoscope of frissons detonating everywhere his callused palms grazed. Willing your body not to react so transparently to Nanami's purposefully provocative ministrations. The exquisite torture of having him so brazenly dominate your personal space in such an intimate manner while remaining infuriatingly composed.
"P-Perhaps if my mentor didn't insist on such...private discipline, I wouldn't find myself in these situations," you managed at last, voice emerging more breathless than intended.
Nanami tsked softly in clear rebuke, the sound vibrating against your over-sensitized nerves. "Now, now...we both know that's a blatant lie."
You shuddered freely as one palm smoothed up your thigh in a lingering, purposefully possessive glide. Higher and higher until he cradled the plush of your ass, fingertips searing into the flesh.
You squirmed ineffectually against the ruthless drag of Nanami's deliberate inspection, each measured graze leaving towering infernos in its wake. Yet somehow that only seemed to spur him on, fanning the sweet agony sizzling through your nerves hotter still.
"I can't decide," he husked at last, devouring you in a smolder that all but stripped you naked, "whether I should punish you first for such carelessness...or simply take advantage of having you so sweetly trapped for me."
Your lips parted on a tremulous sound you couldn't quite stifle as Nanami's palm finally curved around your outer thigh in a scorching, proprietary brand. He squeezed once in clear emphasis before dragging his nails up the sensitive interior in a whisper-light threat that detonated your senses into white heat.
"Then again, perhaps I'll simply keep you here a while longer," he growled with barely restrained wildfire bleeding through the rasped words. "As tempting as this tantalizing tableau is, I do so enjoy watching you writhe for me, little wildflower..."
Despite the sodden ache building with each lascivious caress and purring avowment, you managed to rally one last defiant spark behind a hooded stare. "Is that...so?"
Nanami's flinty eyes glittered like sun-struck obsidian as he bent closer still, allowing the solid ridge of his arousal to nestle against the juncture of your thighs.
"Oh yes..." he breathed, the words gusting across your damp, parted lips. "But allow me to give you a little...preview to ponder, hmm?"
Before you could react, his other palm cupped your opposite ass cheek in a stinging grip and gave a deliberate, carnal grind. The searing press of his clothed length against your swollen slit through the flimsy barriers between you left you gasping.
"Consider this a...taste," he rumbled darkly, "of what's to come should I decide to keep you here and thoroughly ruin you."
He punctuated the decadent threat with a second slow thrust, ensuring the blistering length of his cock grazed against your engorged clit in a way that made your toes curl. Then he withdrew, leaving you throbbing and panting and desperate for more.
Nanami straightened, a darkly appreciative sound reverberating deep within his broad chest. You shivered uncontrollably beneath his proprietary gaze raking across your prone, splayed body.
"Such a good little wildflower," he husked, eyes hooded with blatant carnality. "Just imagine if someone else were to wander across you in such a helpless state..."
He trailed off as his stare dipped meaningfully to where your slick arousal glistened along the seam of your pussy, fully visible in the obscene angle of your body. A low, feral rumble sounded in his chest before he spoke once more in a sin-dark timbre.
"How delicious it would be to have you like this..." A single finger traced the seam of your soaked panties in a searing, feather-light caress that made you jolt. "So helpless, so needy...so ready to be filled and utterly wrecked."
You sucked in a sharp breath at the erotic picture he painted with the suggestive drag of his fingertip against your drenched folds. Imagining being found by someone less discerning and honorable than Nanami – some other male who might not resist the temptation to sample the pretty little morsel on offer.
Nanami's eyes narrowed slightly as if sensing the direction your thoughts had strayed. A soft, rumbling hum issued from his broad chest as his calloused touch migrated higher, skimming the curve of your ass before delving lower.
"Imagine some stranger coming upon you in such a vulnerable state," he mused aloud, voice pitched even deeper and rougher with restrained desire. "How they would take advantage of having you so utterly at their mercy."
Nanami's thumb pressed in a slow, searing circle against your pulsing clit through the thin material, dragging a strangled moan from your chest. "How they would strip away these pesky coverings..."
He emphasized the lurid suggestion by sliding the barrier aside and stroking directly against your slick flesh, making you jolt at the scalding contact.
"And how they would bury themselves within your sweet, yielding pussy." He punctuated the final, filthy words by plunging two thick fingers deep inside.
You didn't stand a chance. Not with his sinfully skilled digits pumping at just the right angle, the lewd, wet sounds filling the space between you. Not when he'd already brought you so close to the edge with his earlier teasing.
You came explosively, the world contracting into a single pinpoint of blissful sensation. Distantly, you were aware of Nanami's guttural exclamation, his palm gripping your hip to anchor you steady as he wrung every ounce of pleasure from your body.
You were barely coming down from the mind-blowing high when his hand withdrew, replaced a moment later by the blunt tip of his cock. The scorching contact sent fresh waves of need lashing through your veins, reawakening the feverish ache in the space of a single heartbeat.
Nanami groaned deep in his chest at the molten contact, his pelvis grinding lightly against your backside. "God, wildflower, you're so...fucking wet. I could take you just like this. Would you let me? Or would you beg for me to stop? Not that you'd be able to do much beyond writhe in place and take it."
You whimpered helplessly, a fresh gush of arousal dampening your inner thighs at the depraved fantasy he painted.
Your core clenching hungrily at the thought of him sliding home with one relentless thrust, filling you to the hilt and pounding away with wild abandon.
"Tell me, wildflower," Nanami all but growled, hips jerking in an involuntary thrust that had the tip of his cock notching against your weeping entrance. "Would you beg for mercy...or would you spread those legs and take every inch I gave you?"
A desperate keening noise escaped as you arched into him, trying futilely to drive him deeper. Your body had already capitulated to the carnal temptation. But it wasn't enough, not when Nanami remained stubbornly immobile.
"Tell me," he ordered with quiet authority, calloused palms squeezing the swell of your ass hard enough to sting.
"Yes!" The word erupted from your throat with the force of a dam finally breaking. "Yes, I'd spread my legs and beg for you to fuck me. Please, Kento..."
The effect of his name spilling from your lips was instantaneous. Nanami's hips jerked forward, sheathing himself to the hilt within your clenching heat. A rough, primal noise was torn from his chest as he bottomed out, his entire frame trembling from the effort of remaining motionless.
Then his hands gripped the swell of your hips hard enough to bruise and began a ruthlessly punishing rhythm, pistoning into your sopping cunt with single-minded purpose. It was exactly as you'd fantasized, only better. Because you could feel the tension thrumming through every sculpted ridge and hollow of his powerful body, the coiled violence barely restrained.
Nanami was taking his pleasure just as much as yours, his every harsh, panting breath seeming to reverberate through you. As if your very bodies had melded, become one singular entity of pure, molten desire.
It was the most intensely, blissfully satisfying feeling you'd ever experienced, knowing he'd finally unraveled. Finally lost control and succumbed to the raw, animalistic lust he'd been harboring.
And it was all for you.
The thought pushed you higher and higher still until the only thing keeping you tethered was the brutal rhythm of his pelvis slamming against your upturned backside. It was all too much, and not enough, and not nearly enough.
You writhed uncontrollably, pinned on the blade's edge of pleasure as Nanami's fingers dug punishing grooves into your skin. The wet, vulgar slap of his cock pistoning into you drowned out the needy little noises tumbling from your lips.
You could tell Nanami was rapidly approaching his peak by the ragged hitch of his breathing, the increasingly jerky, frantic thrusts of his hips. And yet, even now, he was clearly striving to ensure you came first.
One of his broad palms shifted from its bruising grip on your hip, his calloused fingers finding the swollen nub of your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure. You cried out sharply, vision whiting out at the edges as he stroked you with the perfect mix of friction and gentleness.
"Let go, wildflower," he growled, each harsh syllable vibrating against your overstimulated nerve endings. "Cum for me..."
Then he gave a particularly vicious thrust, his cock bottoming out in your quivering channel. The sudden pressure and fullness combined with the wicked, knowing caress of his fingertips shattered what was left of your fraying restraint.
You came apart at the seams, crying out his name as wave after wave of indescribable pleasure crashed through you. Nanami fucked you through it, drawing out the exquisite sensations for several long moments until your body went lax.
Only then did his tempo shift, growing erratic and choppy. His hips stuttered against your ass once, twice, three times, before he buried himself balls-deep with a ragged groan. The thick heat of his release filled you, leaving you dazed and trembling from the sheer intensity of the encounter.
As you slowly came back to awareness, you registered that Nanami had sagged against you, his large frame still shuddering through the final ripples of release. With a concerted effort, you wriggled against the loosened debris.
That was all the signal he needed. In a seamless, predatory movement, Nanami surged upright. With one hand firmly anchored around your hip and the other braced against the rubble trapping you, he easily lifted your weight to free you.
Then he was tugging you upwards into his arms and claiming your mouth in a searing kiss. It was all teeth and tongue, devouring and dominant. A promise of all the ways he was going to ruin you next.
You shuddered in his arms, eagerly parting your lips beneath the demanding invasion. Your arms wound around his broad shoulders, pulling him closer as his scent and taste overwhelmed you.
"God, I want you," Nanami rasped against your mouth, sounding almost tortured. "Need to be inside you, wildflower. Feel that perfect little cunt squeezing me again."
"Yes," you whimpered, already achingly empty after only a brief respite. "I need you, Kento. Need to feel you..."
"Mine," he all but snarled, the words more beast than man.
In the next breath, Nanami had you pressed against a nearby wall, the rough stone rasping against your exposed curves. He lifted your legs around his hips, his thick cock notching against your swollen entrance.
His mouth crashed down upon yours once more in a savage, bruising kiss as he began driving into you. The thick, unbridled length of his arousal stretching you impossibly full, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating all at once.
Each hard, possessive thrust drove the breath from your lungs. Your fingernails dug into his muscled back, no doubt leaving angry welts in their wake. Nanami groaned into the kiss, the sound resonating deep in his broad chest and sending electric shivers along your spine.
His hands gripped your ass tight enough to bruise, guiding your hips to meet his punishing rhythm. You couldn't help the breathy gasps that escaped, each exhale seeming to mingle with his ragged breaths.
Your entire world had contracted down to the molten points of connection between your bodies. The feel of his calloused palms searing your bare skin, the heady scent of him enveloping you, the wet, decadent sounds filling the air.
Nanami's forehead dropped to yours, his molten gaze piercing through the lust-haze fogging your senses. "Say it again," he demanded hoarsely, eyes glittering with something raw and fierce. "Say my name."
"Kento," you breathed, the single word seeming to resonate through every nerve ending.
His rhythm grew frenzied, the lewd smack of his hips against your inner thighs echoing throughout the courtyard. You arched into him, fingers fisting desperately in his hair.
"Again," he snarled, nipping at your lower lip. "Tell me whose name you'll be screaming as I fuck you senseless, wildflower."
"Yours, Kento," you gasped, teetering on the edge of another mind-blowing orgasm. "Only yours."
That was all the permission Nanami needed. His thrusts became brutal, the thick length of his cock bottoming out with every punishing stroke. Your entire body quaked, muscles tightening around him.
Then his hand snaked between you, his calloused fingertips finding your swollen clit. That was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge.
You cried out his name, nails raking his broad back as the orgasm ripped through you. Nanami followed shortly after, his teeth sinking into the side of your neck in a savage bite. The sensation sent another wave of blissful tremors shuddering through your system.
You sagged in his arms, utterly boneless as Nanami supported your weight. He was panting heavily, his broad chest pressed against yours as you both came down from the high. You couldn't help the giddy, satisfied smile that curled across your lips.
You tilted your head, meeting his heavy-lidded gaze. "Kento, was that your way of showing me a preview of what's to come?"
His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile softening his sharp features. "That depends...did you enjoy yourself?"
"Oh, immensely," you murmured, leaning in until your lips were a breath away from his. "But I have a feeling I'll enjoy round two even more."
The low, feral sound Nanami made was all the answer you needed.
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httpsghostie · 10 months
Note
ok this is the video i mentioned, like imagine könig in this, i want to tie his hands and feet and make a mess out of him :((( imagine him crying out of frustration that he can't touch you (and he makes a mental note to punish you as soon as he gets released), so overwhelmed and trying to scape the entire time, so cute :(( you make the context, my brain isn't creative enough to think of how we end up in this situation. sorry if i misspelled something and again i love your blog it's amazing !!*:! also i'm sorry if this make you unconfortable somehow idk?
Enemy pt 1
pt 2
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TW: porn
and I strike again with another questionable scenario
this is just... I... uhm... well...
there's no such thing as crossing the limits with me I'm a fucking whore
Summary: you interrogate an enemy soldier in a different approach.
Word Count: 1,5k
Warnings: smut, König x female!reader, they're both a bit crazy, male overstimulation, edging, knife play (if you squint), glove kink, no use of y/n
masterlist
Recently, your team had brought an enemy for interrogation, and you were the one assigned to get the job done.
"Make him talk, we don't care how." They said.
You got in the cell, hands sweating nervously as you saw the man you were dealing with. You've met before, a long while ago, and he didn't change a thing. He's still arrogant, like he wasn't far within a hostile environment, his hands and feet in chains, in a cell that has never seen daylight. The only thing in the room being the chair he was sitting on and a fucked up mattress.
You crossed your arms as you entered the room, not knowing if he was able to recognize you from the mask you wore. But your voice, he could never forget the sweet melody of your voice moaning his name a few years ago when he fucked you senseless at an abandoned house, in the middle of war.
It happened fast, you were sweeping the place and he was there. You missed your shot when he pushed your gun upwards and tried to strangle you, but soon backed down when saw you were a defenseless damsel in distress.
And you found yourself pressed against a wall being fucked by an enemy soldier, just because he felt like it.
You try to shake off the thoughts that creep on your dirty brain, and as soon as the door gets locked behind you, his body relaxes on the chair. 
"So, we meet again." He cleared his throat. Pretentious prick. 
"König." You start, raising your eyebrows. "I guess you won't be using your free will to tell me what the code is, will you?" You walked towards him, he was still tall, even when he was sunk on the chair with his legs spreaded.
"My free will has better things to do than to hand out codes like candy at a parade. I prefer keeping my secret to myself. Yours too." You could feel the creepy smile that lit up his face. How could you ever do that to yourself?
"They won't believe you." You shrug, slowly walking from side to side on the cell, arms behind your back, your heavy boots hitting the concrete floor. "They're too busy torturing your general for info." His eyes widened and he straightened himself on the chair, tensing up. "So, what are you hiding, pretty boy?"
He flexed his muscles in response, trying to get rid of the chains that kept him restrained. But the praise, coming from your lips, it was impossible for him to contain an enormous wave of heat that destroyed any ounce of self respect he had. He lowered his head, but looked at you through his eyebrows.
"I assume we'll have to do this the hard way then." You took the knife from your belt and stood in front of him, running it along his collarbone and stopping at his chin, lifting it up. "Such a beautiful pair of eyes you got, 'wonder what you hide behind that hood." You say, lifting the fabric of his mask.
"Gonna use flirting as your way to get around this?" He chuckles, looking away.
"I'm offended." You fake a gasp and hold a hand to your chest. "Wasn't that what you did to me?" You're just able to get a laugh from him.
"You wanted that to happen." He looked at your eyes again.
"And you're wanting, too." You stick the knife in the wooden chair between his legs and he jolts in panic.
"Fuck, are you insane?" He looks down and at you again, and you laugh. 
You crouch in front of him, spreading his legs further, and laying your elbow on his thigh. The tip of your finger touches the end of your knife and plays with it, watching how his thighs tense.
"I might be." You say, looking at him. "But I always get what I want."
"You're fucking crazy." He chuckles and looks to the sides, trying to contain his embarrassment as a bulge slowly shows up on his pants.
You take the knife from the chair and put it on your belt again, moving your gloved hands towards his belt and pulling him up. He's heavy as fuck, it was almost impossible to do it if he didn't stand up, towering over you.
You pushed him back, and because of his feet tangled in chains, he fell back on the mattress, bucking his hips up as you eagerly unfastened his belt.
"You weren't this straightforward when we first met." He chuckled and looked up.
"What can I say? 'Guess your taste is addictive." You remembered the bitter taste of his release when he ruthlessly fucked your throat back in that house.
You pulled his hard member out, lifting your mask just below your nose to spit on it, and he whines as you wrap your gloved hand around it, jerking it up and down slowly. He pleads, trying to fuck your hand, but you pull away chuckling and he sighs.
"Let's make a deal, shall we?" You ran your finger along his length, stopping at his tip.
"I won't talk." He gritted his teeth.
"Then you won't cum." You give him a sly smile as you pull the mask down again.
Your hand grabs his dick, jerking it roughly, and he can't help but whine as he tries to get away from your touch. He's so desperate it's pathetic, and he moans as you set the pace.
He tries to move, to get away from the chains, he thinks about how bad he wants to be free and pin you down on the mattress and fuck you until you're begging him to stop, knowing he wouldn't stop until he was satisfied.
Your touch becomes too much on him, almost too harsh to bear, and he cries as he feels his cock throbbing as hard as it could, knowing that he wouldn't last long if you kept going this way.
And suddenly, as he's about to cum, you pull away again, leaving him whimpering at the sudden loss of contact.
"Fuck, why did you do this?" He whines desperately.
"It's simple, you give me what I want and I'll give you what you want." You shrug, grabbing his member once again and going fast on it. He cries, feeling his high approaching once again.
"I'm not talking." He shakes uncontrollably.
"Aww, stubbornness only turns me on." You say. He's too overwhelmed to think about an answer, trying to get away from your grip.
You feel his body tensing up again, his hips bucking up, chasing his so wanted release. Your hand keeps its pace, but your other one blocks his tip just as he's about to cum, watching his vein twitch. He's crying and cursing at you in german, his heavy balls filled with cum as he was being denied once again.
"Come on, I'm not gonna let go until you tell me, and it's only gonna hurt more." You say, letting his dick fall back to his stomach, and one of your hands grabs his balls. He's still shaking, completely overstimulated, and you use your thighs to make him stay put.
"I only know part of it, alright?" It comes out high pitched as his voice cracks, you could feel the pain in his eyes. "The general too, and your team is going to need more than just us for the full code if you want to stop that damn operation." It's almost impossible to understand his german accent at how fast he speaks, his chest rising up and down.
His cock twitches, his tip was red and leaking, and you decide that's probably all that he's going to say, and plus you needed him for his part of the code. 
"That's it, please, maus, it's hurting." He cries. Maybe he deserved to get his award now.
"Such a good boy you are, huh, see? It wasn't hard." You stroke his dick, the praise enough to make him see stars. 
As you increase your movements, he becomes a whimpering mess once again, and deep in his brain he's thinking of how pretty you would look with his cock buried in your pussy, and how bad he will ruin you once he has his hands on you.
It's too much to take, he's trembling, making it hard for you to keep him still. And he can't hold back any longer, his thick cum spouting on your gloves and his shirt.
"Maus, please, stop." He pleads, his body giving in. You clean your gloves on his clothed thighs and get up, leaving him there, covered in white. You stand there, looking down at him and his softening length, and slowly walk towards the door. "Where are you going? Don't leave me like this."
You knock two times on the door and one of your men unlocks it. You open it, looking back at König, still there, still messy, still panting and angry, spitting out as you leave.
"You're gonna pay for this."
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m00nlight-ramblings · 4 months
Text
Touch Me
Repulsed by touch due to years of trauma, Astarion now wears gloves in his every day life. But once he starts to adventure with you, he slowly starts to rebuild his trust in others, when one night, he can't bare to not touch you any longer.
Pairings: Astarion x fem reader
Warnings: SMUT, p in v, oral sex (female receiving), rough sex, light discussion of trauma, swearing, fluff. 18+ MINORS DNI
Word Count: 4.5k
Requested: yes
A/N: Okay so I got carried away with this one lol. Happy to be back writing some good ole BG3 smut teehee. Graphic made by me, I don't give permission for my work (graphic or writing) to be shared without my consent.
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You hadn’t really noticed Astarion’s gloves before, for the first few days of adventuring. You figured that they were just for defense, to help keep his body safe in combat along the journey. You were also far too busy trying to figure out the whole tadpole-in-your-brain problem, along with the myriad of enemies seemingly popping out of nowhere, to be concerned with your camp companions’ fashion senses.
But one evening, when you were headed to the nearby creek to quickly wash yourself in a moment of calm, you stumbled upon a rock, covered in familiar looking clothing.
Astarion’s clothing.
His gloves laid on top of the bundle of clothes, the brown leather muted in the soft moonlight. You paused for a moment and turned to look out into the deep creek, and not even five feet away, Astarion stood.
You realized he was fully nude so you shrieked and turned around. “Sorry! I didn’t realize you were here!” You apologized profusely. You heard Astarion gasp behind you and the motion of water, feet padding over to the rock. Clothes started to shuffle and you heard Astarion murmur under his breath.
“…completely nude, as if my clothes on the rock weren’t a dead giveaway that I would be naked! Trying to bathe and have peace and quiet for one second this entire journey…”
“Look, I said I was sorry-” Without thinking you turned, but luckily Astarion was fully clothed, except for his gloves. He seemed more concerned with fixing his outfit than what you were saying, so you gently reached out to touch his wrist to get his attention. “I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t see anything, anyway-”
The second your fingers touched Astarion’s wrist, he shouted, ripping his arm back as if you had just shocked him.
“Don’t touch me!” He bellowed, his voice dark. It scared you for a moment and you stood absolutely still, silence hanging between you. Astarion didn’t even look at you, just down at his wrist, as if he had been burned.
“What…I’m sorry? Did something happen-”
“Just…don’t touch me,” His cool demeanor was back as he gracefully slid the gloves on, “Alright? Just…don’t.” He had finally looked up at you, his ruby eyes shimmering. His expression was unreadable, but you nodded slowly.
“Alright…I won’t.”
You stared at him for a bit longer, trying to understand what was going on in his head. Was it…fear? Rage? You weren’t quite sure…all you knew was that without meaning to, you had somehow crossed a boundary with Astarion, who was already like a vault.
Without another word, Astarion walked back to camp. You sighed heavily and eventually bathed, but the entire encounter was so odd that you didn’t quite know how to move forward with it.
The next morning, while the sun was still rising, Astarion found you by the campfire as you cooked your breakfast. Uncomfortably clearing his throat behind you, he seemed a bit sheepish. Wringing his wrists (clad in the gloves), he shifted the weight on his feet in his graceful, Astarion way.
“May I speak with you for a moment?” He asked. Nodding, you stood, wiping off your pants. Astarion stared at you for a minute, his eyes darting back and forth between yours. It was increasingly apparent that he didn’t know how to start the conversation, but you waited patiently, afraid you’d somehow set him off again.
“I…want to apologize for last night,” He eventually said, “The whole…situation…with my gloves, I mean. I…” He sighed, searching for words, “I have a hard time with touch. I have for a bit…because of my past with Cazador. When I woke up, thrown from that Nautiloid, I realized gloves made me feel better because I technically don’t have to touch someone when I…well, when I touch them. And since I was no longer under Cazador’s thumb, I snagged the first pair I could find off of…well…some poor dead body on the beach and it’s been better ever since.”
Taking in what he was saying, you nodded, staying quiet. “So…you wear gloves. Because you don’t like touch.”
“Quite frankly, I’m repulsed by touch,” He calmly replied, throwing a hand back, “200 years in a body that I had no control over will do that to you, I suppose.”
“Okay. That makes sense.” You said plainly, forking a piece of pork belly into your mouth.
Astarion tilted his head, confused. “It does?”
“Yes. I mean…I believe you, and everything.”
“You do.” He stated, but it sounded like more of a question, like he didn’t understand.
Shrugging, you nodded, “Cazador forced you to use your body against your will to do his tidings, and now that you have the ability to act for your own for the first time in a very long time, you realize that there are boundaries that make you feel more comfortable. It makes perfect sense.”
Astarion opened his mouth to say something, but immediately shut it. “Well…look at you. Knowing so much about me.”
“That’s what friends are for,” You smiled and pat his shoulder gently, “Thank you for sharing that with me. I understand…and will be aware of it.” You go to walk away, but turn and look at Astarion, “I know what you’ve been through was unbelievably awful, so you don’t have to…but if you ever feel the need to talk to someone about it, I’m here for you.”
Astarion stood, frozen. He nodded so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed it.
“Thank you.” He eventually said, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes were locked on the ground. In a flash, he was striding towards his tent, his hands behind his back, as if the conversation never happened. Watching him walk to his tent, you shook his head.
You knew Astarion was full of secrets, but you weren’t quite sure how deep those secrets went.
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The following weeks had tore through your body harder than any training you had been through. Every night when you went to bed, it seemed like a body part you didn’t even know you had was aching.
Currently, you were a little way away from camp, leaning against a tree, trying to get any semblance of reprieve that you could. Your eyes were closed, but you were nowhere near sleep, as the crickets chirped around you.
“Darling?” Astarion’s voice called out gently. You waved your hand in the air so he could track you down.
“Over here.” You mumbled, your arm feeling like it was 600 pounds. You brought it back down to your side and sighed heavily. Suddenly, you smelled chicken. Opening your eyes slowly, you saw a plate of food in front of you. You followed the arm holding the food and saw that Astarion had knelt beside you, presenting the food.
“Dinner,” He spoke plainly, “Gale just finished cooking. I thought you could use some help since your ass was devilishly kicked by those goblins earlier today, so I brought dinner to you while you were resting.” He smirked as you took the plate of food, barking out a laugh.
“Funny that you just had to bring up the fact that I didn’t perform my best today.” You started to slowly bring the food to your mouth, the taste melting on your tongue. You moaned softly in pleasure – he never shut up, but gods, Gale cooked a good meal.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I didn’t perform my best, either.” Astarion sat beside you now, his back resting against the large tree. He sighed as well, leaning his head back.
In the past few weeks, ever since the evening you had accidentally touched his wrist, you two had become closer. You were the only one to know his secret, a vulnerable piece of the Astarion puzzle. He trusted you to keep his secrets safe, and you did – like you had said, that’s what friends were for.
You ate in a comfortable silence as Astarion stared up at the moon, his face gleaming in the soft glow. Though you two were friends, he was undeniably handsome – you found yourself looking at him longer than necessary, butterflies popping up in your stomach when he would come into your tent to just converse, or when he was next to you in battle. You didn’t know when it started to change, but slowly, your feelings had deepened, which scared the shit out of you. Even now, with no words exchanged, your head felt light as he sat beside you, his familiar scent comforting you.
“Beautiful moon out tonight.” Astarion commented softly. You murmured in agreement, placing the plate and fork next to you now that you were done eating.
“Were you able to hunt tonight?” You asked Astarion.
He chuckled, “Always looking out for me,” He spoke gently. He then turned to look at you, his face soft, “Yes. I did…earlier. Thank you for your concern.”
You laughed softly and shrugged, even though it took all of your effort. You closed your eyes again, “You know me. I need to make sure everyone eats, even if your version of eating is slurping up some boar blood somewhere-”
Suddenly, your hand felt like it was enveloped, and chilled to the bone. Your eyes sprung open and you looked down. Astarion was holding your hand in your lap.
Without his glove.
Your mouth parted in surprise as you looked at him in shock. “Astarion-”
“I know.” He interrupted, smiling proudly.
“You’re…holding my hand.”
“I know.”
“Without your glove!”
“I know.”
You smiled back at him. Both of you sat there in silence, smiling at each other like two goons. You didn’t know what to say, so you started to stutter.
“But…how? When? You’re…feeling-”
“Not with everyone,” He said, “But with you…it’s different. I went to bed last night, thinking about how I wanted to…feel you. Touch you. Really feel you…hold your hand. With mine. Skin on skin,” Suddenly, he turned sheepish and looked down, “I hope you don’t mind?”
“Mind?!” You sat on your heels, gripping his hand tighter, “Of course I don’t! I’m…excited for you! Proud of you! Hells, I-”
Suddenly, Astarion’s lips were on yours. Cold, but gentle – he pressed lightly and pulled away almost as fast. As he pulled away, he looked at you, his eyes uncertain.
“I hope…you didn’t mind that, either.”
A deep blush grew on your cheeks as you smiled and shook your head, “Definitely didn’t mind that.” Your voice was low, quiet. You knew this moment, though on the outside seemed so insignificant, was a monumental moment for Astarion.
He smirked and nodded, “Good. Because when I was thinking about how I wanted to hold your hand, I was also thinking about how I wanted to kiss you, as well.”
You leaned into him and kissed him, pressing your lips on his a little firmer than last time. Smiling, you pulled away slightly, “I like when you think like that.”
Astarion chuckled, his bare hand moving up the sleeve of your blouse, “Good to know. I’ll have to keep that mind next time I start thinking.”
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The Shadowlands had boasted not only the worst atmosphere you had ever experienced, but also the worst sounds to ever grace your ears. It seemed like every time you heard a bird squawk, or a bush rustle, you jumped 10 feet in the air. You were thankful that you had Astarion by your side at night, otherwise, you weren’t completely sure if you’d get any rest at all.
Your nights with Astarion could only be described as wholesome, for the most part. Though his gloves were now off in the presence of your tent – his comfortability of touching you without them pretty much 100% - he still couldn’t get past his history when it came to sex. The moaning in each other’s mouths as your tongues danced with each other only amplified how desperate you were for each other, but every time, it wasn’t right. And that was okay.
But gods, did you yearn for him in every way.
Astarion was currently holding you, as you read on your side. You could tell he was sneaking peeks at your book because every so often, there was a “humph” or gasp coming from his lips softly. And when you tried to turn the page too fast, Astarion would gently touch the corner of the book, preventing you from moving to the next page.
“I can let you borrow the book when I’m finished, you know.” You said, giggling in his arms. He smirked and kissed your neck, his breath hot in your ear.
“But isn’t this much more fun, darling?”
You dog-eared the page and put the book down, turning in Astarion’s arms so you were facing him. You gently placed your hands on his chest, looking up at him. Every time you touched him with skin-on-skin contact, you made sure he was comfortable. Astarion smiled and nodded, placing a peck on your forehead. Slowly, he kissed down your temple, to your cheek, and to your jawline. You sighed heavily, your arms wrapping around his neck. He hummed as he kissed along your jaw.
"Astarion..." You breathed. Your hands found their way into his hair, and when you started running your fingers through it, he moaned slightly.
Suddenly, gently, Astarion's cold hand had found it's way in between your legs, tentatively pressing against your clit through your underwear. You gasped at the sudden sensation, pulling back. Looking at him confused, he blushed slightly.
"I need you," He murmured quietly, brushing a lock of your hair back, "I need to feel you. All of you. I want to take you...desperately."
You smiled and slowly rolled your hips forward, towards his fingers. The pressure made you moan, and you tried your hardest to not roll your eyes back.
"Are you sure?"
Astarion nodded. His hand quickly pulled back and found it's way by his side, "But...I may...um..." His gaze followed where his gloves lay on the table near your bed. You followed his eyes, and looked at the gloves. You smiled and kissed him.
"Put them on."
"Are you sure? It's just that...well, I don't need them to touch you anymore, obviously, but when I think about making love, it can get overwhelming-"
"Astarion," You cut him off gently, staring into his eyes, "If you need to wear your gloves to feel comfortable making love to me, then you can wear 30,000 pairs at the same time. As long as you feel comfortable doing it," You kissed him quickly, "And can still take off my pants."
Astarion laughed and reached behind you, slipping the gloves on. His bashful look gave way to a smile, his eyes darkening in a way that you hadn't seen before. He enveloped you in a kiss, grabbing hold of your body around your waist.
"I am going to fuck you until you see stars." He grumbled, pressing his erection into you. Capturing your lips in a rough kiss, you moaned into it, the sudden portrayal of Astarion’s arousal sending heat to your belly. He gently guided you on your back as he straddled you, never breaking the kiss. Finally he leaned back, staring into your eyes.
He was truly a captivating sight - his fair, taught body seemed to glow in the light of your oil lamp. His eyes - usually a bright ruby - were now almost so dark they were onyx. He smiled at you, causing you to turn bashful under his gaze. You felt his hands make quick work of your pants, pushing them down to your ankles. You aided him by kicking them off your feet, your heart racing.
Was this finally happening - were you finally going to make love with Astarion? Your head swam as his gloved hands glided down your sides, taking in every inch of you. He shook his head, still smiling.
“You are the most beautiful sight I have ever seen.” He whispered, his eyes inching towards your (now soaking) center. Gracefully, he slid down the bed, not breaking eye contact with you. Achingly slow, he spread your legs. Settling on his belly, his head dipped to your core, his nose so close it tickled the hair that encased it.
“Astarion…” You murmured, your hand resting on his head. You watched him lick his lips before he lightly pressed his tongue to your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your whole body. You physically felt like your senses were on overdrive - every muscle was tightened, anxiously awaiting his touch.
“You can’t rush perfection, darling,” He purred, one of his fingers finding their way to your clit. He gently rubbed the finger over your bulge, teasing you, the leather of the gloves an icy contrast to your growing heat. “I’m going to savor this moment. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”
He was staring at you; a moment suspended in time. The only sound in the tent was your whimpers, trying to muffle it so the others didn’t hear you. Astarion’s signature smirk never left his mouth - he was the notorious tease, so why would he be any different in bed?
Suddenly, his tongue delved into you, immediately lapping up your juices, causing you to gasp in pleasure. Your hands found his head, desperate to grip anything in their path. Once you felt his hair you couldn’t help but give a tight tug, to which he groaned into your cunt, the vibrations driving you crazy.
“You like that, don’t you?” He teased, pulling back slightly to speak. He still smirked, his tongue softly darting back to your clit. You bit your lip and nodded, the only way you could currently respond without screaming in pleasure. He dove back in, sending waves of sensation through your body - the coil in your belly started to tighten as Astarion took your clit in his mouth, sucking gently.
Shifting your head to the side of the bed, you pressed your mouth into the pillow, yelping in pleasure. Suddenly, you felt the leather of Astarion’s glove grabbing your cheeks, forcing your head forward. When you opened your eyes you saw him hovering over you, body slightly raised from your pussy.
“Don’t,” He commanded, the other hand working circles on your clit, “I want everyone to hear. I want the whole world to hear how good I love you.”
“Astarion…” You whimpered, your voice trailing off as he was back in between your legs, licking you into another dimension. You did as you were told, your head lolling back on to the pillow so you were looking at the ceiling of your tent, your vision going fuzzy. Your orgasm was quickly approaching, your muscles so tight you felt like you had to jump out of your skin. You knew Astarion sensed it - he slipped one arm underneath you to give himself better leverage, and was now lapping at you roughly, hungrily.
“I-I…I’m going to come,” You breathed, your strength failing you to use your full voice. You looked down and saw Astarion smiling into your cunt, the vibrations on your clit causing your legs to shake around his head. He stared at you from his position, which was just the push your body needed to reach ecstasy.
Your orgasm washed over you as your back involuntarily arched, a hand gripping so hard on to Astarion’s head you’re surprised you didn’t hurt him. His voice was screamed from your lips - definitely heard by everyone in camp - and you couldn’t think of anything else as you saw stars. Your chest felt like it was on fire as you heaved, trying to get control of your breathing. Astarion lapped at you for a few moments more as you felt your orgasm, finally pulling back to give you a moment to breathe. He stood on his knees and wiped his mouth, the smirk never leaving his face.
“You taste incredible.” He said, slowly raising himself from the bed. He undid the strings of his pants and pulled them down, his erection popping out. Leaking with wetness already, you couldn’t help but stare - this was the first time you were fully seeing him naked, and you were in awe of his form. Just seeing him fully aroused was enough to get you going again, and once he crawled back on top of you, you immediately spread your legs for him. He kissed you, and the faint taste of yourself made you moan into the kiss - his tongue was sloppily dancing in your mouth, all sense of romantic etiquette out the window. He was needy, whimpering into the kiss.
You felt him align himself with your entrance and you pressed one of your hands to his cheek, causing him to look up. You smiled softly.
“Are you sure?” You asked gently, delicately cradling his trauma in your hands. Your heart was racing in your chest - out of all the lovers in the land, you couldn’t believe that Astarion had felt comfortable with only you.
He smiled and nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never been more sure of anything else in my entire life, darling. All 200 years of it,” You felt him adjust himself on top of you and he smiled, his eyes darkening again, “Now; stop being so nice so I can ravage you so good you can’t walk tomorrow.”
You both chuckled as he pressed himself into you, your laughter giving way to a low hiss as he immediately filled your aching entrance. Your pussy was begging for a break since you had just orgasmed mere moments ago, but the ache felt so good, you couldn’t help but moan. Astarion maintained eye contact with you, his mouth slightly parted, as he slowly began to rock into you, his hips falling into a rhythm.
“Gods, you are so fucking tight,” He spoke through gritted teeth, “Make my cock feel so good.”
Beads of sweat began to appear on his forehead as he rocked quicker into you, his eyes falling heavy. You moved your hips upwards, gaining better leverage so he could go deeper. When he hit your spot, you both moaned in pleasure, and you gripped the sheets next to you.
“Astarion-” You groaned, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You dug your nails into his back and pulled him closer to you, “Fuck! You make me feel so good!” Your breasts bounced with every thrust and you arched your back, “Harder, please!” You whined.
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He mumbled in your ear, his words hot on your face, “You’d like me to fuck you ‘till we broke this bed, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You gasped, digging your nails harder into his back, “Please, please - give it to me!”
Astarion started to slam his hips against yours, the wet sounds of skin filling the tent. With every thrust, he groaned, his face becoming slightly red. A gloved hand appeared around your neck, and he stared into your eyes. You smiled slightly and nodded, and only with your consent did he start to squeeze, holding you in place as he fucked you.
“Tell me you want it. Tell me how good I make you feel.”
“Hells, Astarion! You make me feel so good,” You screamed, both of your hands going to his around your neck, “Please, don’t ever stop fucking me.”
Your voice was a whine, desperate for sweet release of your impending orgasm. If your first one was intense, this one was indescribable - Astarion’s cock slammed into you in a rhythm he was slowly losing control of. He took his hand off of your throat and held on to your hips, trying to gain control of his thrusts as he closed in on his own orgasm.
“Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours!” You screamed immediately, your hands wrapping around his neck again, “I’m yours! This pussy is yours - forever! I’m yours forever.”
Astarion smirked as he looked into your eyes, “Good girl.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you. He bit down on your bottom lip hard and as he pulled away, he licked away the tiny bit of blood that had sprouted.
Suddenly, his expression changed as the trusts fell out of time. He became sloppy, his mouth open, his eyes closed. His climax was close, so you wrapped your legs around him, drawing his cock closer into your aching cunt. Slick with both of your juices, Astarion’s cock slid in and out of you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
“Darling, I’m close,” He breathed, his voice barely above a whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, staring into yours, “You’re going to make me come.”
“Come for me,” You said bringing your hands to the sides of his face. Your own orgasm was close - you were sure that if you felt him spill inside of you, you would tip over the edge for the second time that night. You smiled, tears of pleasure threatening to fall from your eyes as your body was being pounded into the bed, “Fill me.”
Astarion rested his forehead on yours. With a loud moan of your name, his entire body tensed, his climax spilling into you. His gloved hands dug into the side of your hips and suddenly your orgasm appeared, washing over you all at once. You pressed your body into his, screaming his name, your bodies close enough to feel as one.
As your bodies spasmed together, you saw Astarion smile. He peppered a gently kiss onto your lips, a soft moan escaping into your mouth.
“My darling,” He whispered, his body still on top of you, “That was…divine.” He was out of breath, his voice ragged. As he slowly moved to your side, still inside of you, you nuzzled into his chest, trying to steady your own breathing.
“Thank you,” You whispered, sighing contently, “For trusting me enough to be able to do that with me.”
Astarion tutted and started to stroke your hair, “Thank you for being the person that you are…so that I can feel safe enough to trust you.” He looked down at you and kissed you.
Sleep crept upon both of you; and neither you nor Astarion made a move to clean up the sticky aftermath between both of your legs. As you drifted off to sleep, still naked in Astarion’s arms, he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. You smiled contently - you could get used to this. It seemed the whole world was in your arms as you both held on tightly to one another, an unspoken bond between the two of you grown stronger.
Astarion slid his gloves off before he fell asleep.
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A/N: I had a blast writing this one...please reblog if you liked it! Comments mean the world to me! :)
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