#GET BACK LOST LOVE BY MANTRA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lovieku · 3 months ago

Text

OLDER ⋆ 정국

you’ve tried, but you can’t help yourself from crushing on your best friend’s dad. hot, buff, tatted up and successful, mr. jeon is the starring actor in all of your wettest dreams. and as you wake up from one while sleeping over at his house after his daughter’s birthday party, you don’t expect all of them to suddenly come true. but they do.

pairing: dilf!jk x inexperienced!fem reader

genre: smut, dilf au, best friend’s father

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some lots of plot, age gap (21 n 38), dom!jk, sub!reader, voyeurism, messy blow job, fingering, oral (f receiving), bit of tit play (small chested reader yayyy), two (2) spanks, unprotected sex, cum eating, dirty talk, a bit of degradation, but also praise, pet names, some angst hehe, she falls first he falls harder??? but miscommunication sadly, forbidden love

ratings: 18+ / mdi

word count: 18.2k

a/n: i kinda hate this it doesnt make sense anymore to me but when i realized i was already 12k words in so 😃 here you are! its also so hard to write smut for me because i get carried away but then it becomes too overwhelming Help. anyways. im back hey!!!!

────୨ৎ────

in the backseat of his car, you stare forward at his hands gripping the steering wheel. there’s something hypnotic about the way his fingers curl around the leather. you bite your lips, an attempt to suppress the heat easily pooling low in your belly, your thighs rubbing together to conceal the effects of your lewd thoughts.

but amid them, one stands out. it’s the one that puts a shameless, selfish smile on your face, when you fixate on the image of the fourth finger of his left hand lacking a gold band.

it’s been a few months since that day— since areum, your best friend, showed up at your door in a frantic state, her finger jabbing the bell over and over in a panicked rhythm that jolted you from your bed.

you had nearly tripped down the stairs in your rush to swing the entrance open, and when you did, you were instantly tackled by your friend collapsing into your arms, her tears soaking through your shirt.

kicking the door shut, your hands busy embracing areum with panic in your eyes, you tried to steady both her and yourself. in between her uncontrollable sobs, shaking you to the core, she let her worries tumble out her mouth. her words came in a torrent, fast and breathless, barely giving you any time to fully process them as she buried her face in your neck, her body trembling.

it took a moment for the huge news to break through your thick, slowed down brain, but then it struck you, areum chanting it repeatedly as if she couldn’t grasp her mind around it: her parents were splitting up. divorce was imminent.

your own disbelief mirrored hers, but for very different reasons. you felt it in the way your shock turned into excitement; indecorous, depraved exhilaration, with your friend still hiding in your chest.

even as her sobs echoed in your ears, your mind latched onto one single thought, repeating like a mantra: he’s single. mr. jeon is single.

you felt terribly guilty when you sensed a smile that you couldn’t quite suppress stretching over your features, and the jittery sensation that came with it flowed your body and reached your hands, tightening them around areum harder to try and squeeze the shame out of yourself.

since that day, you’ve lost count of how many afternoons you’ve spent at areum’s house. you’ve been doing your best to be the friend she needs, to keep her company when what she fears the most is loneliness.

you’ve been a constant presence, helping her through the mountain of neglected work she left piling up, distracting her with baking sessions, or mindlessly binge watching entire seasons of friends on lazy evenings. anything to keep her mind off the pain.

but each visit is an opportunity. a fleeting chance to see him. to study how he moves around the house with that quiet intensity of his, a presence able to fill every room like a calm, steady current.

you’ve memorized many of his mannerisms. the way his eyes soften when he looks at areum; the way his mouth twitches into a faint smile when she tries to cheer him up; the way he nods at you in recognisment, silently letting you know he’s grateful for what you’re doing to help his daughter.

you wish you could help him too. in other ways. ways you know you shouldn’t be thinking about.

you can’t avoid it, though. you’ve witnessed him come back home from work countless times now, watched the tension etched across his features as he steps through the door, wished you could be the one to ease it off his shoulders. let your hand travel down his chest, reach his belt.

you feel disgusting unfailingly, but how can you not let your mind wander when he groans so deliciously every time he loosens the tie around his neck and kicks off his shoes?

you know exactly what his next move is, the imperceptible sigh melting the weariness off his face the moment he greets his daughter, a tender smile breaking through his exhaustion.

“any requests for dinner tonight, girls?” he always asks, his gaze jumping between areum and you on the living room couch, waiting for a response.

after your friend replies she likes whatever her daddy cooks, your stomach twists with nerves when his eyes meet yours to make sure there’s no complaints, and you quickly shake your head, biting your lips to keep from saying something foolish. is your dick on the menu? perhaps?

and the man can cook. exceptionally well. he moves around the kitchen with an effortless grace, every movement purposeful, every dish you have the honor of tasting better than the last.

while you help setting the table, you catch yourself staring more times than you should, mesmerized by the way he chops vegetables or stirs a pot, and you can’t help but wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.

fuck. is there even a single flawed bone in this man’s body? with every day you spend at his house, you’re convinced there can’t be.

you want him to notice you, the same way you notice him. you tell yourself you’re just being a good friend to areum, but you know there’s more behind your constant visits.

there’s definitely more behind the way your skirts get shorter, your tops tighter, your bras purposefully not worn.

you feel crazed when you convince yourself his gaze falls upon your exposed thighs when he puts a plate in front of you at dinner, or when his eyes seem to be caught, only for a fleeting second, by your hardened nipples, evident through your poor excuses of shirts.

even when your interactions don’t go further than a brief exchange about college and areum or quiet, polite smiles in passing, the mere thought of being around him sends a rush through your veins, a dark and forbidden feeling tumbling in your stomach.

you’ve been seeking more and more of that after one particular night, your feet making their way down the stairs after areum had fallen asleep and you had rathered take your leave. you found him stretched on the couch, a drink in his hand.

his eyes hazily followed your movements, his voice low and slightly slurred, “are you leaving already?”

hearing him acknowledge you outside of the usual context of areum’s presence made you stop dead in your tracks, your reddened cheeks turning to face him, the dark color spreading all over your features when you fully took him in.

he was cladded in a comfortable attire, one you almost never saw on him, black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt falling sweetly on his shoulders, the short sleeves revealing the intricate ink designs running all over his right arm.

you shook yourself out of your trance suddenly, stuttering, “huh… yes. didn’t wanna be a bother.”

he chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, “oh, you’re not. i wish all of my daughter’s friends were like you.”

his words hung in the air, with sincerity and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. you simply laughed along, a nervous, shaky sound escaping your lips, trying to mask the way your heart was racing with desperation for the gods to grace you with the depth of his tipsy voice all night.

to this day, you still think your horny and delusional prayer was heard when he nodded to the empty space beside him, lifting his glass slightly, “care for a drink? you’re 21 now, right?”

you only nodded shyly, more out of reflex than actual thought, slowly making your way to sit beside him just as he had instructed. the proximity sent a wave of heat through your body, your insides melting with the lava, the smell of his cologne and laundry detergent replacing the burned ground with a trail of flowers.

you were willing to do whatever he wanted from you at that moment, even if it meant downing the harsh liquor he poured into a glass for you. you took a sip, struggling not to grimace at the burn that followed. he smiled.

it was probably the alcohol loosening his tongue, but that night, for the first time, you saw a side of mr. jeon that he kept carefully hidden away, his vulnerability a strong characteristic of it.

his words tumbled out in a quiet, almost confessional tone. he spoke about his marriage, about how he had always felt somewhat trapped. still a teenager himself, he was only 17 when he found out his soon to be wife was pregnant with areum; 23 when they decided to marry.

his voice soft, but tinged with a sadness you hadn’t heard before, he admitted he never felt like he got to live his youth to the fullest, certainly blessed with his perfect baby, but also chained down by responsibilities and a tightening pressure he shouldn’t have had to deal with at such a young age.

then, with his eyes burning into your shiny and equally flaring ones, he paused just for a moment, and you felt he could see right through you, into the very core of your being. that he had you all figured out.

“when i look at you,” he continued, his voice barely more than a whisper, his gaze traveling down your bare thighs, squished together on his couch, “i feel like i get a bit of that youth back. you’re so full of life, so fresh, so… full of love for my daughter. i’m glad she has you. glad we have you.”

as he found your orbs again, you noticed his had significantly darkened. you were sure your heart would have failed you if you had kept navigating in his gaze; instead, you looked down at your hands folded in your lap.

that night, he paid for your uber and insisted you sent him a text when you made it home. it was only read the morning after, and left unanswered.

even now, you’re convinced that if it weren’t for the whisky, those words would have stayed locked away in his mind, never seeing the light of day. not even if he were forced to speak them at gunpoint.

still, you’re grateful for the magical effects of alcohol and how they’ve brought you a tiny bit closer to give a look into his complicated world. it has awakened something in you, something stronger and far more dangerous than anything you’ve felt before.

you want to be there for him. help him through the doubts and regrets. be the youth he missed. take the weight off his shoulders. let him use you on that couch.

that feral, undomesticated monster inside you is a hundred times hungrier when, exiting the library building with areum by your side, babbling in your ear about today’s plans, you see his sleek mercedes parked outside.

he honks, getting his daughter’s attention too, who excitedly walks over the car when she spots it. the sound works as a pavlovian trigger for you, it has your mouth salivating and your senses alert, catching up with your friend and getting in the backseat.

it has been a few weeks since you last saw him, both you and areum too busy with assignments and outside activities, and his charming smile as he asks about the day cuts the breath from your lungs.

you’re silent as your friend fills him in, your ears struggling to pick up her speech as it only takes a few more seconds for your eyes to be caught by an interesting detail, one that has your world rocked: he finally took his wedding ring off.

the wedding ring that has stood as an unspoken boundary between you and your reckless fantasies is gone.

the realization hits hard, and suddenly, the reality around you narrows. your mind veers into dangerous territory, conjuring visions that feel too real.

you can almost feel his left hand wrapping around your waist, pulling you in, claiming you. and the images are so vivid, so consuming, that you don’t even notice when areum nudges your shoulder.

you don’t register her calling your name until the sound finally cuts through, pulling you back to the present with a jolt.

you blink a few times, trying to ground yourself, before turning to face her, areum’s voice light but her expression amusedly curious, “dad asked you a question.”

your whole face drops, panic clear in your features, and heat immediately rushes to your cheeks. you’ve been zoning out, lost in a daydream about the very man sitting in front of you, the one you literally just ignored, too busy thinking of him. the irony is almost too much.

your eyes find his in the rearview mirror, and the slight smirk on his lips only makes you look even dumber, stuttering all throughout your explanation, “sorry, mr. jeon. i— um. i was distracted.”

he simply chuckles, low and clearly not offended by your lapse in attention. his focus is back on the road, but as he speaks you keep yours on the words he’s directing at you this time, “it’s okay. i always tell you, just jeongguk is fine. i was asking about your day, you seem a little worn out.”

“oh. i—it went well! i guess i’m just tired,” the words feel clumsy as they leave your mouth, but you hope they sound convincing enough. you just can’t stop your eyes from falling on his left hand.

“well, you can’t be!” it’s areum’s excitement interrupting your furious imagination and bubbling over, “you need to help me set up for tonight. then, we’re gonna do our makeup, our hair, and dress up. i’m so excited!”

right. the reason why you could finally see mr. jeon after weeks and why you’re currently driving to his house is because it’s areum’s birthday.

the day feels significant in so many ways. you’re excited to witness your best friend turn a year older even after the hardships she’s been faced with. honored that you’re the one she’s chosen to help make this night perfect, ensure every detail is just how she’s pictured this moment to be like. and you can’t deny that you feel slightly nervous at the prospect of tonight, knowing there’s going to be faces you’re not that well acquainted with. you’d say you’re a bit awkward with new people, but you’ll try to bear through it for the sake of areum’s happiness.

but mostly, you feel guilty. because no matter how much you try to focus on your friend, the thought that truly makes your insides all mushy with fuzziness is the fact that you’re going to be in the proximity of her dad, again.

you crave for the smallest moments. the brief second where you’ll catch his gaze. the way his cologne will subtly linger in the hallways of his home. your eyes have a habit of drifting to his hands, those strong, veined, tattooed hands that move so smoothly whenever he speaks.

even now, in his car, as you glance at his side profile, there’s a ridiculous and almost cosmic sense of gratitude. like you’ve been chosen. blessed by whatever god to exist on this planet at the same time as him, to simply witness his presence.

it should be enough. it really should. but you’re a sinner. you’re greedy, wanting more. always more.

that buzzing sensation sticks with you throughout the entire day. the hours are packed with frantic energy, as you and areum run around in anxious over-organization, only for her own panic to rub off on you, making your movements quick and precise, as if every step has to be executed flawlessly.

and with all the chaos, he’s there in the back of your mind. mr. jeon. his presence is overwhelming, even when he’s not around.

he helps for a while, joining you in the backyard as you set up for the evening, his calm demeanor in stark contrast to the whirlwind around you. but then he disappears into his studio, retreating into his own space, leaving you to your tasks, and you don’t see him until hours later.

yet, you still feel him, as if he’s always near. his upstairs studio’s window faces the garden, and it’s enough to make you hyper-aware of your every gesture.

you straighten your back, slow your steps, each action more deliberate, because even though you don’t know if he’s really watching, it feels like he is.

getting your makeup, hair and outfit ready with areum does slightly ease that sensation off your chest. you love these moments with her. shared girlhood when you do each other’s eyeliner, the flutter of excitement as you zip up dresses, as you rummage through her closet, searching for the perfect piece to complete your look.

but even then, you’re brought back to the man working just a few rooms down the hallway. it’s astonishing how easily areum has access to everything she wants. the power her dad holds, the kind of wealth that makes life feel effortless in ways you can’t help but envy.

for her, money isn’t just something that buys things. it’s a silent force that shapes her world. she doesn’t have to worry about how much something costs or wonder if she’ll ever have enough. it’s as simple as snapping her fingers.

it must be nice to have that kind of life. to have someone like him in your corner, with wealth that seems to fall into place as easily as leaves from a tree. you don’t resent her for it, not really. but it makes you wonder what it would be like to live in a world where nothing is out of reach.

where everything, even the man who haunts your thoughts, could be yours with the right words or a simple gesture.

when you see him again, you’re standing in his kitchen. areum is still upstairs, fixing the tiniest details to her makeup, but you decided to come down early, just in case the first guests arrive, wanting to be helpful, wanting to keep yourself busy.

you’re momentarily lost in the view outside the window, the backyard garden bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights, their soft hues blending beautifully with the sage and pastel yellow decorations. the setup looks like something out of a dream, and it pulls a small, unbidden smile to your face.

the quiet peace is interrupted by the sound of a cupboard cracking open behind you, and you startle, your heart giving a quick jump.

you turn, following the noise, and there he is— jeongguk, bent over as he retrieves a bottle of red wine from the lower cupboard.

as he straightens up, bottle in hand, he finds your eyes already staring in his. he’s uncharacteristically deliberate as he still lets his gaze wander up and down your figure.

you’ve dressed carefully for tonight, choosing a flowy pink dress that flutters delicately against your thighs. the corset top hugs your waist in all the right ways, accentuating your shape, the kind of dress that makes you feel just a little more confident, a little more seen.

but now, under his gaze, you feel exposed, like he’s seeing more than just the fabric of your dress. his eyes linger longer than usual, and when his orbs dip to your chest, it’s almost as if he hesitates, like he’s trying to tear his eyes away but can’t.

you’re not even sure if the engrossed look on his face is real or just the product of your own twisted fantasies.

still, your body responds instinctively, your hand drifting up to play with your necklace, an unconscious gesture, while your other arm wraps around your waist, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together under the intensity of his stare.

when his eyes return to your wide ones, he gives a subtle nod towards your dress, and the smile that curves his lips is warm, but you can’t decipher that something else it wants to communicate.

his voice is smoother than you’ve ever heard it, as if literal honey, sweet and rich, is dripping out from his pillowy lips, “what a beauty. you look very pretty.”

you weren’t expecting that. it steals the breath from your lungs. it’s not just the words, or even the way he says them, velvet wrapping around your senses.

it’s how he seems to drink you in, his refined wine nothing in comparison. like you’re something to be savored just as carefully.

at this point, you’re seriously questioning if there was a stronger substance in the liquor you and areum shared earlier, even if you hadn’t taken big quantities, each small sip burning your throat and making you grimace at the sensation. but you figure it must have been enough to distort the current reality around you. or maybe, mr. jeon is the inebriated one.

you don't know how you find the voice to speak, or if you even do, the word escaping your lips in an uncoordinated mess, almost imperceptible, “thanks.”

he hums deeply in response, and it vibrates through the space between you. you let out a shaky exhale the moment his gaze finally shifts away. he resumes the task at hand, effortlessly opening the bottle of wine and turning his back to you as he reaches for a glass from the higher cabinet.

the muscles in his shoulders shift under his shirt, and for a split second, you’re unsure what to do. whether to stay, add anything else, flee the room entirely. make small conversation about areum’s birthday. comment on his look, too. oh, you have a lot to say about it.

you can tell he just wrapped up his work-related tasks for today from the way the first three buttons of his white shirt are opened, revealing his deep cleavage. his hair slightly tousled, but in a way that looks purposeful, perfectly intentional. his slacks hug him deliciously, rounding the curve of his ass and making you swallow hard.

your eyes can’t resist trailing over him, but they quickly move up to stare at the ceiling, feigning deep thought when he turns back to face you, and the counter.

surprisingly, he’s the one to break the silence first, again. the rich sound fills the air as he pours the red wine, the motion so precise, so fluid, it feels like witnessing an authentic art form.

he doesn’t bother looking up at you as he asks, seemingly casual, but slightly amused, “is there a boy you’re trying to impress tonight?”

the way he steers the conversation makes you less agitated, more confident. especially with the question thrown your way. teasing, almost belittling. you can see he’s not even trying to hide his pretty smirk, his focus on the wine flowing into the glass.

the question lingers, and you twirl your necklace around your fingers, smoothing down your dress with your other hand, your eyes flitting to his naked left hand, “mh… you could say so.”

of course, you’re not thinking about a boy. mr. jeon is no boy— he’s a man. the kind women dream about but know they’ll never find. the kind that belongs on the big screen or in the pages of a novel, with his effortless charm, his wealth, his looks that stop you in your tracks.

but he’s in front of you. and he’s tall, muscular, with hands that could crush or caress, tattooed in a way that makes your mouth dry up and water all at once.

it’s him you want to impress. you want to affect him the way he affects you, with effortless intensity. you want to pull him in, make him look at you the way he makes your world tilt on its axis with just a glance.

you’re hypnotized as you witness him in one of his rich man activities, performing a ritual with the wine glass. he brings it to his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the aroma.

there’s something so practiced, so sensual in the way he handles the glass, the liquid dancing with delicate precision, as if even this simple act holds meaning. you can’t look away.

when he's satisfied, he finds you again, and your mouth is slightly open without you even realizing it. the moment he lifts the glass to his lips, you bite your own, almost harshly, your body reacting before your mind can catch up.

his smile is soft, but there’s something unsettling in its honesty, like he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

he mutters into the glass, his words resounding even stronger, “well, he’d be a fool not to fall for you.”

the implications of his comment make you swallow audibly, while he downs his first sip of the wine with fine ease, his adam’s apple bobbing with it. the whole time, his eyes never leave yours.

a thick silence stretches between you, and you wish you could break it but you don’t know how. your mind spins with the unspoken tension, but he seems entirely comfortable with it. the only sound filling the space is the quiet hum of the house.

he places the glass back on the counter, the soft clink of it slicing through the quiet. smoothly, he nudges it in your direction, his movements slow, as if testing the waters.

his voice is inviting, even more than usual, “you want some?”

”is that wine?” you instantly cringe at the way you sound strained.

he hums, a low sound of affirmation, watching you carefully.

you briefly glance at the glass, “i’ve never had it.”

”try it, then.”

with a slow twist of his fingers around the base, he slides the glass toward you. as it moves across the marble surface, you notice how he rotates it imperceptibly, but purposefully, so that the side where his lips touched the rim is now facing you.

the gesture is subtle, but the intent behind it is clear. at least to your deranged fantasies.

there’s a faint lip mark where his mouth had been, and the sight of it pulls you in, making your pulse pound in your ears. you look back up at him, finding his gaze still on you, his expression unreadable but heavy with implication.

without a word, you lift the glass, your fingers wrapping clumsily around the stem. you bring it to your lips, your mouth closing over the spot his lips had just pressed on.

the wine hits your tongue— bitter, sharp, and unfamiliar. you gulp hard, the liquid burning slightly as it slides down your throat. your face scrunches involuntarily, a clear sign of distaste. the richness of the flavor is too much for you, and you can’t help but grimace as the aftertaste lingers.

he watches, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. when you set the glass down, he effortlessly picks it back up and brushes his fingers across the rim.

his tone laced with amusement, he asks, “like it?”

you shake your head quickly, trying to hide your discomfort.

his chuckle is low, a soft rumble that makes your stomach flip. swirling the wine gently, he muses, “i heard there’s going to be alcohol tonight.”

you groan lightly, slumping your shoulders, “ugh, i know.”

the endearment rolls off his tongue like a secret meant just for you, his voice dipping into something softer, more intimate, “make sure you don’t drink too much, pretty face. i’ll be around.”

just like that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing there, your thoughts spinning. pretty face?

what just happened? you’re not sure, but you’ve definitely stepped into something dangerous, something you can’t quite shake.

it’s hard to do so, even as the birthday party kicks off. the energy in the backyard shifts as more guests arrive. lively voices and unfamiliar faces begin to fill the space. areum’s laughter cuts through the hum, infectious and bright, drawing everyone in.

it all contrasts sharply with the weight still hanging in your chest from your earlier encounter with mr. jeon. your eyes keep darting toward the house, toward where you know he is, even though the logical part of you tells you to stop.

you stand at the entrance to the garden for a moment, taking in the scene. the subtle smell of flowers mixes with the faint scent of food, and your best friend bounces around the space, radiant in her dress. you’re genuinely happy for her, honored to share this moment.

and with your best efforts, you start engaging with others, smiling as you talk to some classmates and mutual friends, but it’s all surface-level. your mind is elsewhere.

it’s only later, as the evening progresses and the party settles into a rhythm, that you begin to relax. mainstream music plays in the background, and it inevitably involves everybody, as some classic party games become the main entertainment.

long after the cake and the gift-opening, the group gathers into a loose circle, throwing each other never have i ever questions.

you can’t help the way you all still feel like teenagers deep down, and how you get foolishly excited whenever the topic gets hot, and hints at anything that is sex related.

childish and immature, you know, but your ears still perk when the first probing question is tossed out.

“never have i ever been fingered.”

areum instantly shushes it, her eyes panickedly looking back to the house in hopes her dad isn’t around. laughter bubbles just as quickly, both because of the question and the girl’s reaction.

as expected, many reach for their drink, and you do too. the few present boys holler in a teasing manner, gaining some eye rolls.

sheepishly, the plastic cup touches your lips and you take the smallest sip from your punch. you can’t appear unbothered like your other peers, your cheeks subtly flaming as the embarrassing memories rush to your mind.

it’s silent, the small plea you telepathically send to anyone that might be listening. you pray for the topic to shift to something else, something that won’t inevitably put you at the center of the attention. something you can relate to.

but of course, god is not on your side. the questions only dig deeper, wandering in uncharted territory (at least for you), and you never reach for your glass again.

you can only sink further in your chair as everybody else around you seems even more lively with the way the game has turned, sharing their experiences, giggling as they listen, refilling their cups.

beside you, areum buzzes with energy as every question is just something for her to drink to, nothing that shocks her or that she isn’t familiar with.

never have i ever given head.

never have i ever been ate out.

never have i ever rode someone.

it’s undeniable, the way your skin heats up. with how you’ve been spending your whole day, fantasizing about the man who’s probably already asleep in his bedroom by now, your friends sharing their adventures only fuels your imagination.

you feel dirty when you put yourself in those scenarios, and for every daring moment they relive, the figure that appears beside you is always mr. jeon.

if only you turned your head, just for a moment, and glanced toward the kitchen window that faces the backyard.

you would have seen the same man dominating your thoughts, staring intently at the scene unfolding outside.

jeongguk is hidden in the shadows, the darkness of the house swallowing him whole, with every light turned off. maybe that’s why neither you nor areum notice him.

you don’t see him. you don’t feel him. you’re too caught up in the moment, too consumed by your own desires, unaware that the man that put you in that same condition is standing so close, watching.

jeongguk traces your every move with his intense gaze. he studies how your face dips down at every new question, how your smile seems just a little too tight, too forced when listening to the stories, the ones that make you shift uncomfortably in your chair.

if you don’t notice it, he does almost immediately— the way the attention in the circle shifts toward you.

the glances thrown your way become layered with a subtle curiosity, laced with something that looks like concern. but then, in the eyes of a few, jeongguk catches a faint trace of judgment.

it’s there, in the tilt of their heads, in the way they exchange fleeting looks with one another, as if they sense your unease and interpret it as something lesser. something they can pick apart.

his jaw tightens as he observes, that familiar protective instinct stirring within him. it makes his hands twitch by his side. he stays rooted in place.

eventually, the moment you clearly seem to dread the most (it doesn’t take a genius to know. it’s written on your face. or maybe, he got so used to studying you. it comes easy to him. knowing you,) follows.

it makes you want to vanish into the thin air caressing your legs, the way the question is put out with intent, an only pretending-to-be-careful tone wrapping it, all pairs of eyes instantly directed in your direction.

“never have i ever… had sex.”

you feel trapped, a momentary panic bubbling in your chest as you reach for your cup, hesitant. the rim hovers near your lips as you avoid every expectant glance, taking the smallest sip you can manage.

a murmur ripples through the circle. you can’t decipher it, too busy feeling the heat spread across your face. it’s only later that you realize no one else drank. the question had been crafted specifically for you, a silent test.

lara exhales, a teasing smile playing on her lips, “woah, i was getting worried for a second there, ___.”

you barely have time to react before areum steps in, her voice sharp in your defense, “what’s wrong with never having had sex, either way?”

“nothing, but—”

you’re not sure why you speak, and why you choose your speech that way specifically. you cut in before you even realize what you’re doing, driven by a sudden urge to explain yourself, an unshakable need to clarify forcing itself up your throat, “i only took a small sip, though.”

the group’s collective curiosity spikes, attention zeroed in on you like never before. you feel it— everyone waiting for you to continue, to reveal something you’ve kept to yourself until now. so, you give in, words tumbling out against your better judgment.

you clear your throat, straighten your back against your chair, your tone evasive, “i technically am not a virgin, but…”

the expectation drips from every person around you, their wide orbs trained on you, and for some reason you continue, gulping audibly before providing them with an explanation they don’t deserve, “when we— did it, he um… he got his tip in, but— god, this is embarrassing.”

“c’mon, tell us!”

you sigh, pressing forward with the humiliating truth, “he came, like, two seconds after. so, i felt nothing.”

the laughter that erupts is immediate, your friends covering their mouths in shock and amusement. you can only chuckle nervously, shrinking in your seat with a deep, liberating exhale.

yunjin pats your shoulder beside you, “that’s so sad, babe. we need to find you a real man.”

a strange sense of relief courses through you, the adrenaline from finally being acknowledged and validated by your friends swelling within, and you quickly learn how the buzz spreading to your body after taking part in sharing one of your experiences awakens you significantly.

you don’t know why, but you keep talking, oversharing, feeding into the newfound attention, “oh, i’ve been waiting for one in particular.”

you quickly become the center of attention for different reasons than the previous ones, now. their curiosity flares again, eyes wide with excitement as they beg for more details. who is it? tell us!

their voices overlap, but you dismiss them all with a playful shake of your head, giggles bubbling up as you try to evade their questions.

but just as quickly as the moment came, it fades when you glance to the side, and your smile drops.

jeongguk’s eyes meet yours immediately.

the intensity of the gaze knocks the breath from your lungs, the air thick between you as time seems to slow.

he’s been watching the entire time, arms crossed, the muscle in his jaw tensing as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. there’s a quiet frustration etched into his expression, a subtle irritation with your friends’ behavior. but it’s more than that. there’s something stirred by your confession.

your inexperience. your innocence. the untarnished parts of you he’s only beginning to realize he wants to corrupt.

the truth is, he’s known for a long time. longer than he’d like to admit, really. but he’s never let himself feel it fully until now.

it wasn’t something that hit him all at once. no, it crept up on him slowly, over the months. he’s always known you were beautiful, in that distant, untouchable way. you’re his daughter’s best friend, after all.

but he couldn’t help his eyes from lingering on you a little too long when you’d come over to hang out with areum, how his heartbeat would quicken up when he’d let himself be coddled by the warmth of your helping actions, the way his muscles would tense when he’d catch sight of you lounging by the pool.

he’d been good at keeping it under bay. but you weren’t subtle, not even the slightest. your fleeting glances, your breath hitching whenever he was near, your clothes putting you on display for him. it all made it harder.

even more when you’ve been nothing but the proof that angels exist, and at some point he convinced himself you were sent on earth to fill the void he felt his whole life, with your unconditional care towards his daughter and your pupils widening whenever they’d land on his.

and earlier, in the kitchen. he’s used to being in control, but the way you responded to his presence, to the compliment he gave you, had moved something deep inside him.

maybe it was seeing you tonight, all grown up and standing there in that dress, hugging your figure deliciously. how you carried yourself, confident yet unsure, mature yet untouched.

hearing you talk about your inexperience, about that brief, awkward encounter with a boy who clearly didn’t know what he was doing. watching you squirm under your friends’ teasing questions, witnessing how you tried to explain yourself.

it’s like it all clicks into place for him. and for the first time, he’s letting himself acknowledge it.

jeongguk wants you.

he knows it’s wrong. so wrong. he’s never felt this way about someone so much younger than him, and yet, the need to be the first one to truly touch you, to show you what it means to be wanted by a real man, makes his blood run hot.

it’s dangerous, the way these thoughts take hold of him now. maybe it’s the way you’ve changed lately, stepping into womanhood but still holding onto that wide-eyed innocence. or maybe it’s him. maybe he’s the one who’s changed, his resistance crumbling little by little.

he feels disgusting. selfish, his stomach swirling with nerves. dirty, his fingers twitching and begging to free his insides from such feelings.

but there’s simply no ignoring it anymore, no pretending like you’re just areum’s friend. that boundary he set in his mind is starting to blur. he’s old enough to know better, but old enough to know exactly what he wants.

your eyes widen with terror, meeting jeongguk’s own hardened gaze. he wants to tell you, wants you to know, but the way your startled expression lingers in his narrowed eyes makes him hesitate. it fills him with uncertainty, an unfamiliar feeling, one he rarely contends with.

the moment is abruptly interrupted when one of areum’s friends, an older guy she’s met through her dad’s colleague, crashes into you from behind, draping his weight over your shoulders.

you struggle not to stumble forward, holding yourself on the arms of your chair while you look to the side, and immediately try to pull away when you realize the unwanted proximity.

but it’s hard, you’re weaker than the boy’s embrace, holding you still and wiggling his eyebrows, his tone playful as he ruffles your hair, “is it me?”

the people around you laugh, the sound light and carefree, but the way your body stiffens, the clear discomfort in your eyes— jeongguk notices.

and he also notices (reluctantly) the ugly feeling making space in his stomach the more that guy’s face moves closer to yours. his jaw twitches, the muscle at his temple ticking.

he can’t just stand there doing nothing anymore.

the sudden sound of the door to the garden opening catches everyone’s attention, and your gaze flies over in that direction.

jeongguk steps out, his presence commanding, and your expression drops. areum’s eyes grow wide, instantly sensing something wrong in the way her father is looking at the scene. his eyes are too dark, too sharp, and if no one else detects it, you and his daughter surely do.

still, the taller boy behind you moves up again, taking a step back from your seat, and jeongguk seems to reserve him a look you find hard to decipher. it’s firm, heavy with a warning.

“areum,” he calls, his voice calm but edged, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

she’s quick to move toward him, and you can’t help but try to listen in on what he’s saying to her.

but the voices of your friends rise again, loud and boisterous, filling the space with chatter, drowning out any chance you had of overhearing.

you sigh, and when you return to your slumped position on your chair, you can’t ignore how all the girls around you are sneaking glances at him, their giggles piercing through the air as they whisper among themselves.

jeongguk has always had a certain effect on people, and tonight is no different. you hear some of their comments, but they don’t fully register in your mind.

all you can focus on is the bitter feeling rising in your chest.

you bite the inside of your cheek, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. it sickens you, the way you have to share the image of him with everyone else.

you wish only your eyes had been granted the gift of looking at him, of admiring the way his shirt stretches across his chest or how his hair falls perfectly, even when tousled.

but instead, he’s a spectacle for everyone to enjoy, and you hate it.

when areum returns, she’s slightly slumped over, her energy deflated. behind her, mr. jeon stands with his arms crossed, a small, condescending smile tugging at his lips.

areum’s voice is low as she announces, “the party’s over, guys.”

the subtle groans of disappointment echo around you as your friends try to protest, giving up when met with no possible negotiation. they then gather their things, saying their goodbyes and slowly trickling out, only after trying to argue about it.

once the last guest has left, it’s just the three of you, left to clean up the remnants of the night in the dimly lit garden.

jeongguk barely looks at you. his focus is elsewhere. on the mess, on areum, on anything but you.

as you bend down to gather some empty cups, you steal a look at him again. he’s helping clean up too, though his motions are deliberate and slow.

it’s silent for a while as each one of you picks up their own task. teamwork seems to be efficient, every area of the backyard slowly regaining its original aspect.

until areum yawns dramatically, stretching her arms above her head as she makes her way over to you and her father. she mumbles, blinking heavily. "’m so sleepy."

jeongguk raises an eyebrow, glancing at the still-messy garden, some leftover cups and plates scattered across the tables, and the chairs strewn about from the night's festivities.

he teases lightly, his voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "oh, really? you’re just gonna leave all this mess behind?"

for a moment, the weight of his words hangs in the air. you and areum both freeze, glancing at each other with wide eyes, unsure if he’s serious. the pause is brief, but it’s enough for tension to rise in your chest.

but then, jeongguk’s lips curl into a soft, knowing smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“just kidding,” he chuckles, his tone warm now, the joke clear. “go sleep, c’mon. it’s past your bedtime.”

areum sighs with exaggerated relief, rolling her eyes before stepping forward to wrap her arms around her dad in a loose hug. she mumbles into his chest, “i’m not a kid anymore, dad. i don’t have a bedtime.”

he chuckles with a lightness that was foreign to you until that moment, and he leans down, pressing his lips gently to the top of her head, his voice low and tender as he whispers, “whatever you say. happy birthday, reumie.”

it’s such a simple moment, nothing grand or elaborate, but the intimacy of it, the quiet affection between father and daughter, makes your heart clench.

you watch them with stars in your eyes, completely captivated by this rare portrayal of vulnerability from mr. jeon. he’s always been the composed, collected man in the background of areum’s life, but here, he’s just a father, brimming with love for his daughter.

you almost feel like an intruder witnessing such a private exchange, but you can’t pull your eyes away. every detail — his hand softly resting on her back, the delicate warmth in his eyes, the way his voice softened — it all paints a picture of a side of him you’ve rarely seen.

you want to be part of it, too. want to bask in his love, the one he keeps hidden but the same one that shapes him whole. that fills him from head to toe, never spilling, always quiet. makes him the brave man you only know through your best friend’s admiring eyes, never from his words.

he doesn’t like talking about himself, but you’d kill to know what truly goes through his mind, even for just a second. you’d gladly find a house in his brain, and you’d pay rent and everything.

when areum finally pulls away and turns to you, her expression sleepy but content, she asks, “you coming with me?”

you hesitate, glancing at the mess still surrounding you. you speak with a small, reassuring smile, only looking at your friend, “i’ll be there in a minute. i wanna help clean up first.”

she just shrugs, already too tired to argue, and heads inside. jeongguk’s eyes follow her briefly before flicking back to you.

his lips part as if he wants to say something. maybe to insist that you shouldn’t stay, or that you should go inside too. but the words never come. instead, he watches you silently for a second longer, before turning his attention back to the garden.

now, it’s just the two of you.

the quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s heavy. the subtle hum of the night seems louder now without the chatter of party guests, and the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze fills the air as you move around the small round tables, readjusting the chairs.

you’re trying to focus on the task at hand, but your mind keeps drifting back to mr. jeon. to the protective edge in his tone earlier, to the way he’s been looking at you tonight.

but then, in your distraction, you clumsily trip over your own feet, your breath catching as you stumble forward.

before you can fall, though, a strong hand grips your arm, steadying you instantly.

“oops. careful, little one,” it’s jeongguk’s deep voice murmuring close to your ear, the warmth of his touch grounding you.

your face flushes immediately, the heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him through your lashes, feeling ridiculously small under his intense gaze.

“it’s okay,” he instantly replies, his tone so gentle it almost makes your heart falter.

silence falls again, but this time, it’s thicker, and maybe even uncomfortable. you both remain still for a moment, his hand loosely gripping your arm, and you feel yourself burn where his fingers rest. his thumb brushes your skin lightly, a subtle, almost imperceptible gesture, but it’s enough to make you gulp audibly.

finally, he releases you, stepping back slightly, but his eyes never leave yours, "thanks for making my daughter happy today. i really appreciate that. i appreciate you."

the words catch you off guard, your breath hitching at the sincerity in his voice, deeper, almost too revealing.

your mind races, trying to find the right words to respond, but all you can manage is a stutter, “oh. i—”

his voice is firmer when he gently cuts you off, “go sleep now. i’ll finish here.”

you want to protest, but the way he’s looking at you — his dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you in place even with his hand now by his side — makes it impossible.

there’s something about the way he’s speaking, like he’s being careful with his words, almost spelling them out, making sure you’re paying attention to each one, “if you need anything, you know where to find me. yeah?”

you swallow hard, nodding slowly. his gaze is unwavering, and it feels like he’s saying something more than just the words themselves, something you can’t quite grasp yet. you stammer, “right. yes. i—i’ll… goodnight.”

“goodnight.”

it’s not exactly a good night for you. in a sense, maybe it is. you always welcome dreams like these when they decide to visit. but right now, it feels more than a little awkward.

worst timing ever. you’re lying next to areum, the daughter of the very man who’s making you wet with just a few flashes of imagery dancing behind your closed eyelids.

at first, it’s soft, almost serene. you see a beach, engulfed in warm, blurry tones that blend together like watercolors left to bleed in the sun. the sea is flat, unmoving, and glimmers like pearls under the flaming light.

a weight presses down on your exposed thigh. the sensation feels so vivid that it pulls you deeper into the dream, and as you glance down, you instantly recognize the large, familiar hand resting there.

jeongguk’s hand. his left one. on the fourth finger, a gold ring.

when you lift your head, his face greets you with a wide, unusual smile. his hair is wet, slicked back as if he’s just come out of the water, droplets clinging to the tips.

but the softness of the look he gives you is replaced by something more dangerous, more daring. he bites his lip, and you see it.

a double piercing sits on the side of his mouth, the silver studs gleaming as he plays with them using the tip of his tongue. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t just see it there.

on his eyebrow, a matching piercing catches the sunlight, giving him a rebellious edge.

you remember them from old pictures areum showed you once. jeongguk, in his younger days, rougher, wilder, and undeniably charming.

it must have left a deep impression on you because your subconscious has dug it up now, weaving it into this dream. deep in your slumber, you unconsciously whine.

his hand kneads the soft skin of your leg, and his grin stretches wider, eyes crinkling into familiar crescents, but with an edge you’ve never seen on him before.

"you wanna take another bath?" his voice is husky in your ear, filled with suggestion. he’s leaning in now, closer, his fingers drawing lazy circles on your skin.

your throat feels dry, your pulse quickens, and before you can say anything, his hand slides higher, fingers grazing the hem of your swimsuit. his breath fans over your face, and suddenly, the sea behind you isn’t the only thing that feels like it's burning.

"come on. just you and me."

before you can even think to answer, your surroundings shift. the beach, once hazy and peaceful, morphs into something more private.

you’re no longer in the open air, but sitting at the border of his pool, both your feet grazing the warm water.

jeongguk’s hand is still playing with the laces of your bikini, and he’s slow and teasing as he pulls one of them. when he fully undoes it, you’re bare in front of him.

but he doesn’t look down just yet. he keeps staring in your eyes, his smile gone now, replaced with something more serious, more focused.

jeongguk leans closer to your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, and it feels way too real when he whispers, “let me make you feel good.”

it’s with a jolt that you wake up, the low sound still echoing in the depths of your brain, and you struggle to take in your surroundings at first.

on your right, areum is sleeping soundly, even snoring softly. you'll tease her about it in the morning.

but if the thought initially puts a smile on your face, it morphs into a frown when you register the reason why you’re now awake, and you brim with guilt.

you have to get away from your best friend. need to get away from your brain, if possible. wash it all with a glass of cold water.

you make sure not to cause too much noise as you slowly sit up, the covers falling from your figure and the air welcoming you with goosebumps on your skin.

your naked feet tentatively touch the ground and you force yourself to stand on them, padding on the floor and exiting the room, gently closing the door behind your shoulders.

at first, you only hear it. faint, muffled noises; fussing; heavy panting; groans.

you blink rapidly, convinced your hazy brain is still cozily wrapped around the blankets, finding it hard to let go of the images that had flashed behind your eyelids and adapt to the new state of consciousness.

but as you make your way to the stairs, the sounds get closer, and more vivid. it’s not just your mind playing evil games, anymore.

it’s shushed moans, and eager whines. and they seem awfully close to how you’d always imagined mr. jeon would sound like. in that situation.

having lost control over your own brain a long time ago, it feels like you’re now being ordered around by it, no freedom of choice whatsoever.

your feet move on their own, following the source of that delicious music, and you swear your eyes get teary with joy when you find that the door was left ajar.

you feel delirious. the small gap is more than enough to give you a view into what you never thought you’d have the honor of witnessing: the man of all your desires has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, squeezing it, then dragging it up and down in slow movements that you just know are torturing him, from the way he harshly bites his lower lip, to the way his furrowed eyebrows almost meet at the bridge of his nose, eyes focused on his doings.

nonetheless, he loves it. his mouth opens every time he brushes the tip of his thick dick with his palm, releasing small whines, followed by quiet moans when he uses his other hand to play with his balls.

he cusses repeatedly, then grips his base and halts his movements. only to go over the punishing pattern again, bringing himself closer to the edge then retraining when he feels like stepping over it.

the sight of mr. jeon edging himself makes your knees weak. it takes over you physically, you genuinely have to find support in the wall beside you.

you need to be there with him. you need it to be your hand; need him to guide it just the way he likes it; need him to teach you how to please him. his groans make your head spin, and you need to get closer.

you’re not thinking when you instinctively take a step towards the slightly open door, but when you do, the floor cracks under you.

you’re paralysed. in the silence of the house, wrapped in night time, the otherwise small sound is amplified, and he stops his hand.

with the little power you still possess over your actions, you move your back to the wall beside the door. your breaths are ragged, too overwhelmed with the mixture of fear and lust, and you think of running away to hide but a huge weight is chaining you down, and you find yourself unable to move.

you can only register fussing from the other side, the soft thump of his feet on the floor and the door opening alarmingly. when he looks to the side, he’s met with his expression mirrored on your small face, your eyes wide but willing themselves to keep looking in his.

if you were to look down, you’re not sure you could keep yourself composed, knowing his cock is hard and unattended in his pajama pants.

“___? what are you doing up?” his voice quickly takes on the calm that characterizes him so well, instilling some of it in your startled figure.

still, you stutter all throughout your answer, making it clear what you just spied into with the way your face changes color, “i— water. i wanted— there’s no, huh, water in the fridge.”

mr. jeon does a weak job at hiding the confused amusement on his features. nonetheless, he nods, a small grin on his lips while he says nothing, just walks to the stairs and makes his way down them. you follow hastily, careful not to trip.

there’s plenty of water in the fridge, but he doesn’t question it. he takes out a bottle and pours a glass for you, sliding it over the counter.

you take the smallest sip, afraid you might choke with the way he stands facing you, staring so intensely into your orbs.

when you put the still full glass down, he smirks. you see his hands gripping the edge of the table in front of him, “nightmare?”

the depth of his voice translates into heat pooling right in your lower stomach and staining your shorts. you’re a mess just from the blurred sight of him. you shake your head, “more like… a weird dream.”

he smiles fondly, having to break the prolonged eye contact and look elsewhere, his grip getting tighter and his patience wearing thin.

he won’t be able to control himself much longer if he doesn’t get out of this kitchen, especially with the effects of your effortless charm flooding down his pleading dick.

you’re in front of him, eyes full with a feeling that scares him, only the counter dividing your bodies, and you’re wearing the tiniest satin shorts paired with a white tank top that leaves little to the imagination, the cut dangerously low and your nipples evident through the material.

he’s a gone man.

his eyes no longer anchoring you, your gaze automatically travels to where you shouldn’t be looking, for your own sanity. but the outline of his cock is so delicious, it makes your mouth water with want.

you’re not sure if it’s your own eyes deceiving you, but you swear you can see it throb, and at that moment you realize he’s not wearing any underwear. just thin, loose pants covering his length.

you gulp, clenching around nothing. you feel him sigh, and the sound makes your head spin with greater force.

he looks back at you, but you’re too enthralled by your current view, the effects of it almost completely shutting out your hearing and your rational thinking, as you round the counter and leave his words hung in the air, “i’m sorry for… what you probably saw. should’ve closed the door.”

apology silently dismissed, or simply ignored (why would he even apologize for blessing you with such an unforgettable sight?) you now stand next to him. as he turns to you, you’re faced with his chest, and you have to bend your head upwards to meet his curious eyes.

your body has long forgotten to trust the thin amount of rationality that could still be found in your brain, and that’s how you find yourself leading your hand to cup his cock through his pajamas.

his face is stoic, staring at you intensely. he doesn’t startle, doesn’t gasp, doesn’t move away. but you feel him. if the contact does something to him, he doesn’t show it. he keeps looking down at you, in your eyes.

then, he speaks, his voice steady, “what are you doing.”

you’re suddenly aware of your actions, and you fall victim to them, feeling small because of his stern, composed gaze while you melt under it.

your voice is frail, barely a whisper, too weak to sound as convinced as you truly are, and your words come out slurred, “wanna help you.”

he doesn’t break, doesn’t seem affected by your desperation, but his pupils are blown out, knuckles white from grasping the counter, “you already did enough.”

your hand is still on his dick, unmoving. no one dares break the moment, though. if anything, being this close to him, feeling him while you both search for something in each other’s eyes, is only spurring you further.

you get on your tip toes, your perky nipples brushing against his chest, your voice low while you tilt your head to the side, “what were you thinking of? i’ll be that for you.”

immediately, his hand flies over yours. he doesn’t move it, just holds it still. the look in his eyes is a lot darker, his eyelids droopy, his jaw clenched, “stop this.”

the electrifying spark that buzzes you the moment you feel his skin travels from your hand to your whole body, and it significantly weakens you.

you don’t know if you fall to your knees because they genuinely give up on you, but it’s how you find yourself facing his hardness, your eyes never leaving his glossy ones, highlighted by the dim light shining through the curtains of his kitchen.

“___. get up.” there’s a tremor in his voice, and the hand that was blocking yours now falls by his side, twitching.

you see it in his eyes. sense it in the tension of his muscles. he’s holding back. but you don’t want him to resist you.

“please,” your beg is muffled and quiet, your nose brushing against his length and following a torturous path that makes him hiss.

he groans deliriously, willing himself to tear his orbs off your big, pleading ones staring up at him, but he doesn’t do anything to move you away.

“fuck,” the chuckle that follows is feverish, his body on fire with the forbidden, but so wanted touch, “don’t make me have to reject you, doll.”

“you don’t have to,” you’re unexpectedly quick in your answers, your conscience coming back to you but letting it be taken over by a dark feeling, the one that makes you kiss his tip through the thin material, and lick along his length, finding his eyes, “i want you.”

jeongguk inhales, his lower lip bleeding with the harsh biting, and he swears his knees are shaking with the effort of keeping even the slightest, thinnest thread of sanity intact.

he wishes he could stop you. knows he should. but he can’t. he can only watch as your slim fingers hook under the hem of his light pants and lead them to pool down his ankles.

the way his cock springs free and brushes your smooth, pure face makes him huff out a deep exhale, his jaw clenched and eyebrows furrowed as he takes in your eyes widening at the sight of his length.

mr. jeon is long. and thick. he’s veiny, and perfectly shaved. it looks almost unrealistic, but he’s in front of you in all his glory and he throbs. leaks pretty precum to coat his angry tip.

he doesn’t know how he manages to speak, especially when you look up at him through your droopy eyelids, pupils blown and tongue ready to take him.

his voice is rough, as if it wants to stay stuck in his throat, but he forces one last warning out, “___. don’t do it.”

any and all kinds of inhibitions are nonexistent the moment you attempt a kitten lip at his wet tip, and the simple action makes his head fall backwards, a way too loud growl escaping him.

his breaths are heavy, broad chest moving with them as he looks down at you again, too tempted to look elsewhere.

he curses as soon as he does, his lust-filled orbs swimming in your equally craving ones, and he believes this view is crafted by the hands of a god, not slightly comparable to anything his mind came up with back in his room, not too long ago.

the reason why he’s gotten rock hard under his covers, it’s you. the yearning he couldn’t suppress anymore, the hunger making him salivate, the need to be consumed by your love, the desire to be touched by you, to be cured by your innocence, only to taint it.

he’s thirsty, wants to drink all of you in. wants to finally have you, taste you, feel you. he’s tired of fighting it.

jeongguk doesn’t know how to decipher his heart doing literal flips in his chest when you fully take his cock in your mouth, and he lets out a sound he’s never heard his own self ever produce.

it’s high-pitched, whiny, delirious, and it leads himself to subtly push himself forward, to bury his length in your throat.

you inevitably choke at the new sensation, your eyes fluttering shut to keep the tears welling up under your eyelids from spilling out, but you go relentlessly, just as hungry.

you tentatively bob your head up and down his length, messily taking him as best as you could, probably accidentally scraping him with your teeth a few times, and you try to make up for it with your swirling tongue, slurping thirstily.

he almost coos at your eagerness, and as badly as he wants to bask in the sensation, having to keep himself from pounding into your mouth, he holds your silky hair in a ponytail and gently pushes you away.

when you find him again, your eyes are glossy and your eyebrows drawn up with worry.

you don’t want this moment to end. you don’t want your insecurities to be proven right, don’t want him to ward you off, to still think of you as nothing more than a childish girl with an evident crush. you’re on your knees for him to finally see you.

jeongguk instantly reads your thoughts.

his voice is quick to sooth you, a sweet smile painting his face with an expression you rarely see on him. it’s soft, just like his voice, “come up here, angel.”

you want to listen to him, want to follow his every order. but you’re not sure how to when he’s regarding you with a care you’d never thought would be directed at you, one that empties you of any strength. when the pet name rolling off his tongue that easily seems so natural, you want to think it’s all he’s ever seen you as.

with a delicate tug at your hair, he leads you on your feet again. but you’re weak, your chin falling on his chest as you look at him through your lashes like he’s hung every single star in the sky.

his hand leaves your locks only to cup your face, promptly helping you stand straight to study your features.

if he didn’t know better, he’d say you’re high off the strongest substance you could find. your pupils cover your orbs in a dark, wide circle, a lazy smile on your pink lips as you let yourself be handled by him, no control over your body, almost falling over his bigger one again before he steadies you by your hips.

he lets out an amused chuckle at the state you’re in because of him, and he hopes you know just how much you’re affecting him, too. he wants to swallow you, pill after pill, overdose on you.

when he’s sure you don’t need his help keeping you still anymore, leading your palms to rest on his wide shoulders, he takes your face in his big hands and forces you to swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his words are spoken slowly, a low whisper fanning over your lips, “if i kiss you now, i won’t be able to control myself anymore.”

your eyes jump relentlessly between his own orbs and his mouth, the latter winning the battle when you fixate on it, and speak just as weakly, “please, kiss me.”

you barely manage to get the words out before jeongguk is all over you. he devours you, pushing your lips open and finding your tongue, playing with it in a mess of slick and heavy breaths.

his fingers travel through every angle of your body they can find, pulling your face impossibly closer by your nape, leaving goosebumps along your bare arms wrapping around his neck, falling down your torso and squeezing harshly as they rest by your sides.

your moan is inevitable when his palms reach down the curve of your ass and shove you against him. you feel his hardness meet the softness of your lower belly, his wet tip poking at it and making him hiss on your lips.

he does his best to swallow all your sounds, your muffled whines and whimpers his favorite meal as of now. it’s a wince of slight pain that you let out as he positions you in between his body and the counter, the border pressing on your lower back.

when he moves from your kiss, even with your lungs being unable to breathe anymore and begging for a break, your head follows his movements to try and bring him back on you again.

the chuckle he lets out is almost belittling, the right side of your face being completely engulfed by his palm to put distance between your mouths, his other hand keeping you still by your waist, and his own hips push against you.

you quickly glance down to where your bodies meet, and you whimper when you take in the way his cock is just above your core, his balls brushing against your clit. you only need to lift yourself a little forward to fully feel him.

but it’s like he instantly knows what’s making your head spin, his grip tighter but still mindful not to hurt you. the sudden squeeze has your eyes finding his, feeling ridiculously smaller under the weight of his heavy gaze.

he makes sure you keep your whole focus on him, and as much as registering the way your orbs are glossy with anticipation and desire is making him almost regret his next words, he lets them out, steady but soft, in your face.

“you had your fun, baby. now, you’re going to listen to me. hm?”

this time, your reaction comes promptly following his request. you’re hanging from his lips, tracing their every move and sound, immediately nodding at the order.

but it’s not enough, and jeongguk ensures to sound a bit firmer, ”use your words.”

”yes, mr. jeon.”

the way your response rolls off your tongue with seemingly no hesitation, your pupils still on his, the words you choose to say, make him let out an amused chuckle.

your eyes widen, and he drinks in your state, cheeks flushed and lower lip trembling. you need to bite it in order for it to stop shaking when he narrows his eyes, his left palm rising from your hip and finding its way under your top, his remark making you startle, ”you’re such a bad girl. aren’t you?”

jeongguk makes up for the way more tears seem to well along your bottom lashes by cupping your small breast in his larger hand, swirling his thumb around your nipple, and you need to fight against the loud moan traveling its way up your throat, the chocked sound getting stuck as your mouth hangs open, your eyebrows furrowed.

but it only takes some more of his degrading tone for you to let out an unashamedly loud noise, his fingertips pinching your nipple, ”calling me that only because it gets you off. doesn’t it? you’re not so innocent after all, princess.”

he quickly swallows your sounds with his lips on yours, and both of you can’t help but hum lowly at the contact. jeongguk thinks he could keep kissing you for hours on end. but he badly wants to feel every other inch of your body, too.

unexpectedly, the kiss gets broken when he turns your body around with ease, your back now pressing against his front, and you steady your shaking figure by planting your hands on the counter.

the access to your ear comes effortlessly, he just needs to bend his head down to cover your height difference and make sure his whispered words meet you as close as possible, “i’ll give you what you want. but you need to be quiet and good for me, understood?”

you’re not sure if you should use your voice or stay silent, but your body doesn’t give you the chance to ponder over it before letting out a whiny yes. you’re not exactly being quiet, but can he blame you?

the man you’d get to talk to for more than five minutes only in your dreams is now promising you he’s going to give you what you want. and his cock is perfectly nestled in between your ass cheeks. you’re positive you’ll have to throw your shorts right in the bin after he’s done with you.

though, the scoff resounding in your ear makes you regret not even trying to lower your volume. you really want to be good for him. don’t want to disappoint him.

that’s why when he taps two fingers under your chin, without him having to express it for you, you part your lips open, tongue out. from the corner of your eye, you see the side of his face scrunched with a long dimple before he shoves the digits inside your wet mouth.

you instantly wrap yourself around his thick fingers, coating them in your warm slick, and you can tell it’s affecting him with the way the hold on your hip tightens, and he shifts between your thighs.

with your tongue swirling around the two digits, your eyes search for his face. looking up at him through your lashes, you clench around nothing when you take in the effortless way he towers over you, his body engulfing your whole smaller figure.

the sinful eye contact leads him to spur you on further, his voice rough with desire, “that’s right. suck on them like you would my cock.”

you hum deeply at the encouragement, fluttering your eyelids shut as you energetically bob up and down along his fingers. you think you can still feel the taste of his precum lingering on your tongue, and you whine, wishing you could have him again.

the noise gets cut from your throat when he forces his digits out, the slicky sound lustful, and it makes him groan lowly.

with his other hand, he delicately pushes your head forward to bend you over the marble counter, the same one where hours ago he passed you his glass of wine to take a sip from.

the surface is cold against your cheek and he’s out of your vision as he stands straight. not being able to see what he’s doing, the expression on his face as you lay folded for him, makes the anticipation flood even stronger in your veins.

you feel him pull your shorts down enough to reveal yourself to him, hear him hiss as he’s enthralled by the way your pussy glistens, all for his eyes to admire.

the curse that follows is instant, “fuck. no panties?”

you’re embarrassed for your straightforward bareness, whimpering at his surprise with your fist tightening and your nails imprinting crescents in your palms, but you’re also so impatient to feel his touch.

tentatively, you wiggle for him, hoping to brush against his length, but it’s to no effort as he instantly stills your movements with a hand on your lower back.

he scoffs incredulously, feeling your bare ass against his palm, “it’s like you knew this would happen. you dirty, naughty girl. always giving me those eyes.”

it’s light, the spank that meets the side of your butt, but you gasp nonetheless. you need to bite your lower lip harshly in order to suppress the loud moan from escaping your throat, and you’re sure it bleeds when he softly strokes the spot he hit.

the hand soothing you now travels to your front, torturously putting pressure on your sensitive stomach and following a slow pattern, only to reach your wet core.

he finally touches you where you’ve been needing him the most, and you both groan when he uses his already soaked pointer and ring finger to spread your lips, his middle one tracing your slit.

you inhale deeply as he repeats the motion, and when you exhale you can’t help small whines from leaving you, the pleasure already too overwhelming.

you feel like passing out when his body weight presses on you again, his mouth directly on your lobe, the intention in his voice dripping on your skin, “you think i wouldn’t notice? you know how hard my cock gets everytime i see you in these tiny clothes of yours, huh? you’re quite literally the death of me, doll.”

then, it’s like all your senses come back to you the moment he pushes his digit in, and he immediately reaches around you to put his other hand over your mouth the second he sees it opening, your eyes rolling up.

you scream in his palm, the sound muffled with his fingers tightening under your jaw, his body still leaning on yours.

he whispers sweet nothings in your ear and stills his middle finger inside you, getting you used to his presence, “shh, princess. good baby, you’re doing perfect.”

the contrast to his earlier shaming tone only makes you whine more, your eyes squeezing closed to try and keep the noises in. you’re sure you bite his palm when he starts moving inside you, the finger curling tentatively and soon being joined by another one.

you shake your head weakly, feeling yourself reach delirium, and you manage to stammer out, “can’t— can’t do this.”

“you can baby, c’mon. you wanna be a good girl f’me, don’t you?” his tone is still low, warm breath fanning over your nape, and you melt under the sudden change in attitude.

you nod, not because you believe you can actually get through this without your heart failing and the whole neighborhood hearing you in the process, but because you do want to be his good girl.

“say it.”

“wanna be good— your good girl.”

he hums, “that’s right. i need to stretch you out if you want to take my cock.”

you choke in his wrap, now looser around your face, surprised at his words, and you clench hard at the mention of his cock inside you.

you throw your head backwards in search for more of his proximity, and you mumble nonsense, your brain completely melted, “yes! want your dick.”

“i know you do, little one,” with your head nestled between the crook of his neck, his hand now falls to your throat, and he holds you gently by it while his fingers pick up a faster pace.

he’s ruthless as he moves them inside you, effortlessly finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long, tattooed digits, and you whimper at the foreign sensation, unable to moan like you really want to.

you feel like screaming the more he keeps going, the only possible reaction to what is happening to you. one moment ago you were dreaming of this, and now it’s your reality.

mr. jeon is fingering you and calling you his good girl. his large figure is behind your smaller one bent over the counter, his palm around your throat, his hard length pressing against your ass.

the moment he uses his thumb to flick at your clit, you arch your back into him and you hear him fight to suppress a surprised moan.

“shit. you’re so impatient, sugar. dripping around my fingers. wanna taste your sweet juice, can i?” it’s a rhetorical question, hushed slurredly in your ear, because after he lets it out his fingers leave your hole, and find a new home on his warm tongue.

he purposefully moves your chin to make you a witness of his sinful action, humming deeply around the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut, his digits popping out drenched.

your mouth hangs, your tongue unconsciously peeking out as if asking to be made a participant, but jeongguk only smirks and stands straight once again, his wet hand leaving another light spank on your ass cheek, “turn around, sweets.”

you do as asked, making sure your palms are still steadying your weight on the counter now behind you, afraid your legs alone won’t be able to.

but you soon find out you won’t have to put much effort into that when jeongguk lifts you with ease and sits you on the surface, your slickness meeting the cold marble.

you don’t have to lift your head to look at him anymore, your heights now the same. but finding yourself directly in front of his hardened gaze makes you feel even more intimidated.

especially when he traces your inner thigh, his eyes never leaving yours, “every time you stand up to leave after dinner, you always leave a puddle on my chairs. and i’m left to clean it up.”

you swallow audibly at the accusation, and you can feel your eyes water once again, biting your lips to conceal the shame.

he only grins amusedly at your state, the tip of his tongue coming out to play with his lower lip. the hand on your leg now forces it to move to the side, his face only getting closer to yours, his tone deeper, “i’ve thought about licking it up, you know? but then i always stopped myself, because i knew i’d get to taste your pretty, wet pussy.”

you gasp, a shaky moan leaving you uncontrollably, and your fingers hover over his figure, wanting to find support in him but unsure whether to touch him.

he finds your mouth with a short kiss, almost reassuring, but he’s back to spitting sins the moment he lowers his face between your spread legs, and the way he looks up at you is almost scandalous.

he looks devilish, his orbs visible through his lashes, his tongue wetting his lips. he takes your uncertain hand and places it between his tousled hair, directing himself to you, instructing you how to use him.

he presses a peck above your clit, still drinking in your reactions, his smile wicked, “i knew you’d crumble soon. you little minx. going after your best friend’s dad. so naughty.”

your head is thrown backwards at his words, ones that only add to the pleasure that takes over you when he latches at your pussy, the wet sounds ungodly.

the shame and guilt mixing in the back of your mind generate a profane sense of bliss you’d never think you could reach, and even though deep down you feel dirty being confronted with the truth he sputtered out so easily, you can’t help getting off to it right now.

jeongguk is ravenous as he finds your drenched lips, lapping furiously at them and drinking the juice that continuously drips out.

he flicks the tip of his tongue up and down your swollen clit, and your hand that he himself put on top of his head now tugs at his curls, forcing him closer to you.

he’s trapped, your legs squeezing around his head, his nose nuzzled in your slit, and he can’t stop the hand that reaches to stroke his pleading dick.

you think you hear him mumble something along the lines of taste so good as he teases your hole with his wet muscle, and you’re a gone woman the moment you look down, your eyes fluttering open.

his own are closed, brows furrowed in deep concentration, his nose relentlessly grinding against your sensitive nub, and the way he seems so affected by the act of pleasuring you breaks something inside you.

you feel it begin to crumble when his tattooed hand reaches up to lift up your top just enough to expose your breasts, nipples hardening with the cold air and the stimulation, and they hurt deliciously when he starts kneading at your boobs, fondling them with care.

the deep hum generated from his throat vibrates against you, and the flick of his thumb around the center of your tit matched with the way your clit is being continuously abused unexpectedly leads you to your orgasm.

it’s fast, unannounced, and you find support in his hair, your body taking over your brain and relentlessly grinding against jeongguk’s face, suffocated between you, unable to stop reaching for the heavenly, and so awaited high.

your whines are frantically high pitched, but the moment he feels you cum all over his mouth everything around him disappears except you, and all he cares about is slurping you, drinking you as you let it all out because of him.

he pants, breathless, opening his eyes to witness your climax, to admire you breaking under his doings, chest swelling with pride and a primal sense of protectiveness.

when he hears you whimper the more he keeps sucking on your clit, your slim fingers pulling at his locks, he finally lifts himself up.

on the path he follows to come back up to meet your face, he finds your nipple with a sweet kiss, his tongue teasing your nub, and he smiles against it, teeth gently pinching it, when seeking with his eyes for your reaction he sees your own rolling back.

next, his mouth is on yours, smearing your wetness all over your lips and mixing it with his spit on your tongue, connecting in a frantic, hungry dance.

his forehead is on yours when he breaks the kiss, his breaths heavy, the lazy grin on his face the only thing you can focus on, hanging on his gentle words, “did so good, pretty. came so hard all over me.”

your eyes inevitably fall down to his cock, painfully hard against his stomach, the tip angry and slicked with precum.

you feel your core buzz, kissing him to conceal the unshameful desire building up so fast again, but still you can’t help from mumbling against him, “wan’ you to fuck me.”

the hum of pleasure coming from his throat reverberates on your lips, and he smiles at your confession. even chuckles, one hand resting at your hip and sliding you closer.

“that what you want, baby?” your legs wrapping around him, he kisses along your neck and travels down to your collarbones, leaving small bites to keep himself from marking you like he truly wants to.

he slips his palms under your thighs and lifts you off the counter effortlessly, and you squeeze your hold tighter around him in order to keep yourself balanced.

the new position has his cock perfectly meeting your core, your slit brushing against his tip as he walks you two over the living room couch, his mouth promptly swallowing your whimpers.

when he lays you on the sofa, he straightens himself to fully admire you. you’re sprawled for him, your hair framing your head like a halo, the sweat pearling your forehead adding to your angelic state.

your hands are on either side of your face, fingers dainty and slender, and your tank top is lifted up enough to show him your small breasts, slightly spilling from the sides.

your shorts still rest under your ass, and with a swift motion he fully takes them off you, giving him access to your center.

but the attention is taken away from your wet cunt when he lets his eyes come back up to your face, your cheek resting on your shoulder, trying to hide your embarrassment at his ravenous observing.

he smiles, becoming impatient with the feeling that only grows inside him, and he walks out of his pants still pooled down his ankles, taking off his loose t-shirt and letting it fall on the ground.

your eyes widen at his sculpted physique, now finally in front of you, his buff dimensions intimidating you, especially when your orbs follow his v line and put you face to face with his huge cock, so close to your watering hole.

he teases it with his length, sliding it up and down your slit, then slapping it against your clit. you arch your back, groaning.

“am i the real man you’ve been waiting for? you wanna be fucked by this big man, don’t you?” his sinful words only make you nod dumbly, becoming potty under his control.

at your eagerness, he wastes no time. aligning himself with your hole, he enters you. the stretch is deliciously painful, his tip boldly splitting you open for him.

he knows your wail is coming, so he lowers himself on you to block your sounds with his mouth. but he’s the one that needs to be silenced.

the moment he feels your tightness around his bare dick, he growls. his sounds grow more desperate as he sinks himself deeper, the grip on your waist enough to wreck you, and you’re expecting it to leave a mark.

you hum roughly against his lips, your nails scratching along his shoulder blades in search for any kind of grounding you can find.

it’s too much, his dimensions way oversized for what your hole can take, and the fact that you can’t help but grip him even tighter isn’t helping.

he reads you, your broken whines and the tear falling from your left eye, and the moment he bottoms out he stills himself, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nuzzling the warm skin in a reassuring manner, “shh, baby. i got you. let me make you feel good.”

the whispered words are the same ones that jolted you from your sleep, the dream almost too real, and paired with his middle and ring finger circling your sensitive nub they cause you to emit a pleasured squeal, your chest arching into his.

at this point, you’re afraid you’re still trapped deep in your slumber. that none of this is actually real, it can’t be.

you’re so convinced that it’s just too good to be true that you test it, scraping your nails harshly in his back, and when he bites the skin under your jaw in protest you gasp shakily.

it’s definitely real. jeongguk is fucking you. almost. not yet.

with the way your clit is being stimulated by his long fingers, the initial sharpness turns into more slick, and you impatiently groan, “fuck me, please.”

one final kiss is left on your lips before he lifts his torso up, his hands roaming along your sides and grasping a hold of your tits.

he teases you with a playful smirk on his face, your disappointed pout only resulting in a devilish chuckle from him as he massages your soft boobs.

but you can feel him throb inside you the more you swallow him in, and you know he’s just as impatient. you buck your hips up in search of friction, and the sudden motion makes the both of you moan.

he’s suddenly resolute as his palms fall to your waist and effortlessly hold you up as he begins fucking into you. with each stroke he picks up his pace, and he’s soon pounding your tight hole wrapping around him.

the two of you soon find out it’s impossible to be quiet. your sounds are stuttered and pornographic, and it makes jeongguk afraid he’s never going to be able to get them off his brain.

his own noises are heavenly, deep growls and surprised whines falling out his pillowed lips, slightly agape in bliss, brows drawn up.

your eyes roll back and never come back, your vision patched, and you think you weren’t build to survive this kind of pleasure. it’s almost deathly when he finds that one particular spot that makes you see stars.

your skin slapping is louder than his hushed speech, but he makes sure the words reach you and translate into wetness coating his length even more, drenching it, making it soaked in your juices, “that’s how you need to be fucked. that’s how my girl needs to be fucked, hm?”

“mhm, fuck, yes!” it’s breathless, but you want him to hear you. you feel yourself get closer just watching him smirk proudly at your state, his pupils blown out.

his palms are back to playing with your breast, kneading it harshly, and you enjoy the way he seems to be hypnotized by the vision, “fuck. love your tits. fit just right in my hand. you were made for me, princess.”

your head is thrown back between the cushions, your legs wrapping around his ass and pushing him even deeper, the anticipated sensation building simultaneously in both of your trembling bodies.

“i’m not gonna last long, baby. this pussy’s too tight. trappin’ me inside it,” jeongguk’s voice is rough, the words leaving him slurredly and all his effort put into snapping his hips against yours, his eyes focused on the relentless in and out motion.

you wail, mumbling nonsense, but at the same time the most sincere words you’ve ever sputtered to him, “it’s yours, jeongguk. f—fucking yours. forever. ah— fuck.”

he hums, feeling you contract around him the more he speaks to you, “that’s it. my pussy to fuck, angel. mine to play with, mine to fill up.”

your eyes widen at his territorial remarks, and when they meet his hazy ones they water with overwhelming ecstasy.

the possibility of his cum filling you up is what does it for you, your nerves undoing once again and making you spasm around his throbbing dick.

he talks you through your abrupt orgasm, praising you for cumming so good all over him, drinking in your blissful sounds and your hips rutting against his.

he’s just as close, and the realization that you came the moment he mentioned painting you in his seed makes him a crazed man, his motions stuttering sloppily, “fuck. aren’t you a naughty one, doll. you really want me to cum inside you? you want it, huh? i bet you do.”

your repeated nodding and the way your body is so pliant in his hold, letting it be completely handled by him with no functioning muscle, pervades his senses with a primal force that he puts all into fucking your sensitive cunt.

he smirks wickedly, “you’d look so pretty. all stuffed. want me to fill up this tight pussy? want my mature cock in so deep you can’t breathe?”

you think you scream at his continuous suggestions, but you can’t be sure when all your senses are clouded, the oversensitivity turning you into a literal doll for him, no power over your actions.

he looks just as fucked out, his lips parting as he basks in the feeling of being in control of you, his eyes fighting to stay open and keep you in his vision.

when he feels you contracting around him in overstimulation, his breath stutters and he feels himself reach the peak, quickly pulling out of you to spill his cum over your naked skin.

you gasp at the sudden emptiness and the warm liquid that keeps falling over your stomach, his cock being pumped in his fist and milked from all he can give you.

you both pant in exhaustion, your legs loosening their grip around him as he dips his weak knees on either side of you on the couch.

he hums when he fully takes in your figure, marked by his cum, and he smiles when he sees your eyelids struggling not to fall.

but you spasm once again when you feel his finger slide over your stomach, the wet liquid being collected, “now, you gonna clean this up for me. open your pretty mouth, baby.”

you don’t even ponder on the request, you just follow the order. your brain is reduced to thoughts that are only related to him, and it automatically complies to anything that he asks from you.

you engulf his digits promptly, swallowing his semen, looking up at him through your lashes and unashamedly clenching at his lazy smirk.

he makes sure every drop of his is collected and sucked by your hungry mouth, smiling when you don’t ever complain, “mh, good girl. get them neat.”

when he’s satisfied, he hovers over your face and finds your tongue in a sensual, slow kiss, both of you moaning at the exchange.

with a sloppy sound, he parts from you only to disappear between your thighs, his eyes mischievous, “gonna clean you up, too.”

you gasp at the feeling of his mouth wrapping around your core once again, slurping your juice and lapping at your inner thighs, and you’re not sure how this is going to help in getting you clean. you only feel yourself becoming even wetter, if possible.

leaving a kiss above your nub, he straightens up with a boyish smile softening his features, and with the fond way he’s looking at you, nobody could tell he just made you cum twice.

he moves your bangs from your forehead, closing the distance between you once again to leave small pecks over your still reddened face, “you did amazing, doll. made me cum so hard.”

you hum contentedly, snuggling closer to him, your body unconsciously gravitating toward his warmth. your hand lifts to thread through his hair, but before you can touch him, he shifts, pulling away.

the warmth he provided vanishes, replaced by the cold emptiness of the couch. panic surges in your chest, washing away any remnants of fatigue. you prop yourself up on your forearms, eyes tracking his movements.

you don’t want him to leave you here alone, bare and vulnerable, maybe a bit confused and uncertain, and deep down deathly scared of whatever will come after this.

your brows furrow, heart picking up a painful speed when you see he’s getting dressed—tossing on his shirt, pulling on his pants. and for a second, your heart clenches with dread. is he leaving?

but then you notice him picking up your shorts from the floor, his expression softening as he walks back to you with that same gentle smile that had made your heart flutter earlier.

relief washes over you.

he handles you delicately, as though you’re something fragile. his fingers brush your skin as he slips your shorts back on, pulling down your top before encircling your waist with his strong arms.

you squeal lightly when he pulls you onto his lap, settling back on the couch with you cradled against his chest. his hands never leave you, securing you to him.

you settle into him easily, sighing in appreciation as the warmth of his body returns, your legs draped across his lap, arms circling his neck.

for a brief, fleeting moment, everything feels like it’s in its right place, like this is where you’ve always belonged. it feels so natural, so easy, being wrapped up in him.

his deep, slow breaths lull you into a state of calm. his chin rests on the top of your head, his hand rubbing soothing strokes along your spine.

you press even closer, breathing him in, feeling like you could get used to this, like you already have. like you’ve always known this is where you should be.

your fingers trace absentminded patterns along his tattooed arm, the one holding you secure under your legs. you feel the need to look at him, to admire the man that marked you as his.

but when you glance up, you’re a bit startled when you notice the shift in his expression. his face is hardened, jaw clenched tight. he’s not relaxed like he was just moments ago. his gaze is distant, staring intently at a spot across the room as if lost in thought.

yet his hands continue to cradle you, almost unconsciously, like holding you has become second nature to him.

but his mind is a whirlwind of emotions, and they only scatter all over the place as he feels you move closer, impossibly so.

you seek warmth, care. nuzzle your fragile body against his for protection, something more that he fears he can’t give you. love.

he once thought he’d drained himself of it, had nothing left to offer. but now, with you in his arms, the smallest spark flickers to life, burning its way up his throat until it feels like it’s going to consume him.

he wants to give in. he wants to hold you tighter, trap you against him, keep you with him. give you love.

but he can’t do that to you. can’t make you go through the same path that took everything from him. not without ruining you in the process.

he knows what comes next. love turns into suffering. it’s inevitable.

and could he survive seeing the look on areum’s face if she ever finds out? how would she react if she knew the truth about what he’s done, about how he feels? about how he truly wants to act upon his feelings?

the thought makes him feel sick, even as his heart beats steadily against yours, comforted by your presence.

but why doesn’t he feel disgusted? why isn’t there shame gnawing at him, making him pull away? there’s only bliss. the sheer joy of having you this close, of holding you like this, makes him forget everything else.

he wishes he could be immature, for once. wishes he was your age, and that nothing truly mattered. that he still could allow himself to make stupid decisions.

maybe then, you’d feel right in his arms, and reality wouldn’t catch up to him.

“jeongguk? are you okay?”

your soft, honeyed voice pulls him from his spiral, and he startles slightly, caught off guard. his eyes meet yours, wide and filled with concern, searching his face for answers.

he tries to hide the storm brewing inside him, forcing a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “huh? yeah. i’m okay.”

of course, you don’t believe him. an ugly feeling makes space in your stomach, and the weight of everything begins to press down.

you don’t want it to take over you just yet, want to be coddled by the illusion a little more, want to try and believe there’s nothing to be afraid of.

you offer a tentative smile, hoping to ease whatever tension is growing between you. “you… you seem worried.”

“i’m not, baby. i’m just thinking.”

“about?”

“stuff.” his voice is clipped, and the small wall he’s building between you becomes clearer.

the distance stings, and your heart sinks as you try to hold onto the moment that felt so perfect just a second ago. desperate to reach him, you place your hands on his face, tilting his chin down to meet your gaze.

your eyes jump all over his, but you manage a genuine, if small, smile. “you can tell me, you know. you can talk to me.”

one simple, small smile spreading across his lips makes you doubt all of your worries. it makes you want to believe that maybe, there’s truly no reason to be scared. that maybe, this can go well.

“i know,” it’s whispered on your face, his hand coming to play with the hair that frames your cheeks sweetly. “let’s get you to bed now, hm?”

before you can protest, he’s lifting you off the couch with ease, cradling you in his arms bridal style as if you weigh nothing at all. you clutch onto him.

you feel your insides fuzzy with the gesture, and you wiggle yourself closer in his embrace, looking up at him expectantly, “your bed?”

it breaks his heart having to disappoint you, tone firm as he tries to make up for it with his thumb brushing your thigh, “no, baby. you gotta go back to areum’s room.”

“but— but… i wanna sleep next to you,” you plead, your voice small and almost childlike as you pout up at him, hoping to sway him.

he looks away, focusing on the stairs as if looking at you would break his resolve. “we can’t, dove. you know we can’t.”

his words feel like a punch to the gut, and your voice hesitates. “we can’t?”

the silence that follows is louder than any answer he could have given, and it weighs heavy between you, suffocating. there’s no actual explanation to it, and the realization leaves both of you uneasy.

at areum’s door, he sets you down gently, making sure you’re steady on your feet. he’s careful with you, like he always is, his voice low, “go wash up. i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“no…”

“c’mon, sweetheart. don’t make this harder.”

you frown in protest, keeping eye contact, but he doesn’t break. his gaze is steady, resolute.

you want to argue, want to push, but the exhaustion settles over you, and you slump, defeated, but you still sway sweetly for him, your hands tied behind your back, “okay… can you kiss me?”

your voice is small, muffled behind your pout as you seek for him with anticipation, a shy smile making its way on your lips.

when he doesn’t move closer, you get on your tippy toes and lean in his direction once again, your eyes almost fluttering shut before you hear him clear his throat, and take an awkward step back.

you’re back on your heels with a thump, the same one reverberating in your chest with your heart falling, your mouth hanging open with confusion written all over your expression.

you go to say something but he’s quicker, his voice solemn, “goodnight, ___.”

jeongguk smiles, but it’s nothing like the ones that took over his whole face just minutes ago on the couch, his eyes full of you. you’re not even sure if you can define it as a smile.

it’s polite, almost too polite, and it only results in feeling tremendously distant from him. he’s completely disconnected from you.

he retreats, long legs carrying him away, his back to you as he slips into his room. the door clicks shut behind him, the sound final, and it echoes in the hollow space.

you stand still, the weight of his absence pressing heavily on your chest. the spot where he left you feels like a grave, your feet sinking into the cold floor as if it’s pulling you under. the warmth he offered, the fleeting sense of safety, is gone, and you’re freezing.

you try to breathe, but the air feels sharp, your throat tight with the effort to hold back the tears welling in your eyes. it’s useless, though.

your bare feet shuffle against the floor, but you can’t move forward. you can’t go back. you can’t do anything except stand there and feel the weight of it all crash down on you.

you’d been so afraid this would happen. how could you have been so foolish? even in the midst of the sweetness, you knew it was too good to be true. a part of you always knew.

and yet, you let yourself believe for a fleeting moment that something real could come from it. that you could be enough.

you’d have done anything to prove it to him. to show him your loyalty, your willingness to make it work. you still would. you’d give him every part of yourself, if he’d only take it. if he’d only look at you the way you want him to.

the full weight of your reality sinks in. in the end, none of it was truly real.

a sob breaks free from your chest, raw and painful. the sound echoes in the quiet hallway, bouncing off the walls that now feel oppressive, like they’re closing in on you. this house, every corner, it’s all stained now, tainted by the lie you let yourself fall into.

and you? you feel tainted, too.

2K notes · View notes

postmortemnivis · 10 months ago

Text

no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

4K notes · View notes

cherubfae · 4 months ago

Note

May I request cock warming with the final fantasy boys? Specifically cloud, Zack, and noctis please!!

𝔰𝔬𝔣𝔱 & 𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔪 || {𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔣𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔞𝔰𝔶}

ft. Cloud, Zack, Sephiroth, Reno, Ignis, Gladio, Noctis, & Prompto

tags: smut, nsfw, gn!afab!reader (afab anatomy described), established relationships, comfort/gentle sex, descriptive injuries, injured!reader and injured!protective!boys, dirty talk, breeding kink, Reno is a yapper, slight dom!reader in some

Cloud

Your bedroom would be the only place he would feel comfortable doing this in. Comforted by the scent of you, of your blankets and pillows, the small collection of stuffed animals. Your scent caresses his troubled mind, filling him with longing; for the home he found in you.

Pretty Mako eyes glitter in the dark, shining like the night sky, as you and Cloud are drenched in pale moonlight. His gaze solely focused on your never wavered, even when had shimmied out of your sleep shorts and underwear. The second you climb back onto the bed, he's reaching for you, pulling into his lap and sealing your mouth in a soft kiss. His cock already lined up against your silken folds.

"Thought I lost you today." Came Cloud's soft admittance. "Scared the hell outta me. Need to.. I need to feel that you're real. That you're here. Please." Your warm palms cup his cheek, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. Grounding him to reality. Eagerly, he leans into your touch, embracing you tightly.

"I'm here, Cloud. I'm safe. I love you." You remind, repeating the mantra the two of you came up with when he'd get a little too lost within himself. Cloud kisses you again, cupping your jaw gently. He quietly repeats those last three words to you, barely above a whisper.

A tiny whimper leaves both of you as you sink down onto Cloud. His arms wrap around you tightly, burying his face into the side of your neck. The panicked rose and fall of his chest slowly subsided as the minutes wore on. Gently shifting your position, Cloud lays the two of you down. Your leg tossed over his hip. His protective hold remains on your ass and across your back, his fingers lightly pressed into the skin of your shoulder blades. It's only after you fall asleep in his loving embrace that he allows himself a little cry. Spending the night holding you, unable to fall asleep until the first songbird begins its morning tune.

Zack

"Are you sure this is okay, baby?" Zack's pink cheeks are bright in the dark bedroom. Though, you can't see his expression, you can, however, feel the heat radiating from his cheeks. With his face hidden in the crook of your neck, you can feel how they burn against your tepid skin. Ever so grateful that your boyfriend runs hot like a furnace. At your nod, he carefully lifts up your bandaged thigh with one strong, warm hand.

His other arm, previously wrapped around your tummy and slightly pinned beneath your body, is able to reach down between your legs and rub slowly, gentle circles around your clit until the nub becomes erect. Pushing your wet underwear to the side, you shiver at the contract between his warm fingers and the leather that conceals the rest of his hand. Spreading your folds open, you let out a pleased moan as his weeping cock rubs at your hole.

"Oh, fuck, honey. Such a pretty noise." Zack's eyelashes flutter. Slowly pushing himself inside of you, mouth dropping open into a fucked out expression. He places a pillow under your injured thigh, letting it rest against his own leg. "Fuck, baby. You're sucking me in so sweetly." He fidgets. "I promised not to move, but I can still make you cum on my cock." Lowly, he growls; his warm fingers return to your aching clit.

Sephiroth

"Are you sure you want to warm my cock, dearest?"Sephiroth frowns, deeply. "I am certainly not opposed but I worry about your health. You took a rather nasty spill today. That vile creature breaking into our home and harming you," Sephiroth bared his teeth in a snarl.

"Are you certain? Hmm, come here then, my love." Undoing his trousers, he frees himself just enough for his tall, heavy cock to stand proud between his parted thighs.

Wrapping a protective arm around your waist, he lifts you. Rubbing his slit against your folds, collecting your juices. He smiles at your cute moan when his cockhead swipes against your clit, repeating the motion several more times. "I will go slow, my angel. Hold onto me." His grip is firm as he slowly pushes his head past your outer lips, easing his thick girth into your hole. A satisfied growl rumbles from his lips once he's fully seated inside of you. Stroking your hair, he pushes your head to rest on his shoulder. "Rest, dearest."

Reno

"Fuck! How are you still this tight...?" Reno gasps, unable to make up his mind on where to touch you first. His hands scramble from gripping your hips, to wrapping around your upper body to cradle you to him, to your breasts, to back to your hips. "You're killin' me, doll. I'm injured, take pity on me?" The redhead pouts, his lower lip jutting out. He looked more like a puppy begging for its owner's food at dinnertime rather than an supposed injured warrior. He was playing with a cool dagger and cut his finger, please take pity on him.

Seeing you glower down at him, Reno stilled, a cheeky smile reaching his face. He had disturbed you while you were working on a thick stack of paperwork, again. He can be quite the yapper when he's around you. Snapping your hips down, he gasped, bucking himself wildly into your warm cunt. Look, he's not above whining if he's in your presence.

"You're really not gonna let me move? :(" He groans at your stern stare. "I know, I know. I was a tad reckless on this last mission, I'm sorry, honey. I'll make it up to you."

"You can make it up to me by being quiet and let me work. If you're good, maybe I'll deem you worthy enough to cum inside my cunt." Holy shit. Reno has never been so fucking turned on in his life.

Ignis

While he appreciates the practice in improving his healing techniques, Ignis isn't quite fond that you have become his primary companion in building said techniques. This time it was particularly gnarly and you were left with several gashes across your body from a fierce daemon attack. He had been ridiculously worried for your safety the moment he saw the creature send you flying back into the cliff side with a swipe of its beastly claws. He will be forever thankful to Noctis for being the first and closest to rush to your aid, allowing Gladio to slay the foul beast; cleaving its head from its miserable shoulders.

Helping you remove the last of your bloodied clothing, the chef clicked his tongue at your ruined, bloodied bandages already haphazardly unsticking from your chest and abdomen. Thank the gods the wounds were shallow enough to not need many stitches. Sitting at the edge of a hidden hot spring, Ignis was determined to help wash away the grime of the day now that your wounds had healed a bit more thanks to his delicious cooking.

"You worried me today, darling." Ignis spoke softly into the cool night, naked as the day he was born, barely audible above the roar of the waterfall. Not too far away, the rest of the group sleeps soundly around a warm, roaring campfire. Your pained expression made his heart ache and with a sigh, pulls you into his warm embrace. You press your nose against his neck and let out a shaky sigh. Ignis holds you a little tighter.

Easing into the pleasant warm water, Ignis wades into the shallow depths with your legs wrapped around his waist. There's a long stone, closest to the waterfall, smoothed into the vague shape of a bench over hundreds of years thanks to the minerals and magical properties of the water. Situated in his lap, your palms rest flat upon his shoulders leaning back to give him a look. Ignis smiles knowingly, unable to fight the adoring chuckle that leaves him.

"Even whilst injured you're so eager for my cock to fill you, hmm? What a tempter you are, darling. A little minx. Come here, I shall indulge a little." Always the one to treat you like glass, he softly slides his tip between your folds, pretty eyes slipping shut into a moan. He looked so pretty like this, biting his lip, and doing his best to stay quiet despite knowing that the prince loved a good show. "We are here to relax, not to fuck like rabbits--" Your slam yourself down onto his lap impatiently, cutting his monologue short. Ignis chokes out a scratchy moan, his hands shooting out to grip your hips. "No, you can't fuck me tonight, oh gods. Be good and sit still. I promise when you are healed, I'll breed you until all you can remember is my name." Ignis nipped at your earlobe in warning.

Gladiolus

Thunder rippled across the sky, dancing in tune with flashes of white-purple lightning. Heavy rain drizzled down the windows, only allowing for blurry glimpses of the outside world beyond the glass. It was chilly. Cold enough to dive deep into your closet to bring your heavier, thicker clothing out from hiding.

Gladio stoked low flames burning in the hearth to life, still choosing to be mostly bare-chested like a sociopath in this cold weather. Still nursing a wound on his lower abdomen, he took his movements slowly. But even when injured, Gladiolus craved physical contact with you. And if you're so cold, how about you come over here and he'll help warm you up a little? ;D

"Shit, dove. Can't believe I'm already all the way in," his deep voice grumbled, partially in disbelief. His cock is impossibly thick, stretching out your cunt wide. The sight alone makes him throb and if he wasn't injured, he'd be fuckin' jackhammering you into the sofa, insatiable, like a bear that found honey.

"Usually ya need more prep to take me. Have you been thinking about little ol' me this whole time?" The playful smack you give his shoulder makes him erupt into laughter, before instant regret makes itself known, and Gladio clutches his side with a wince. "Alright, alright. Don't make me laugh, cutie. M' sorry. C'mere, I'll keep you nice and warm from this frigid weather." Pulling a blanket off the back of the sofa, Gladiolus wraps it around your shoulders and pulls you against his warm chest.

Noctis

"Easy does it, you're still hurt from the fight-- I'm still hurt, too, just be- oh fuck," Noctis whined, bordering on a whimper, "--Careful--," The gasp he let out is sinful. His head falls back against his mass of soft, plush pillows supporting his head and upper body. Your walls pulse and throb around his weeping length, a deliciously slick noise echoing through his room as you sink down completely on his length.

Fighting through every instinct to buck himself into you, Noctis's hands find purchase on your hips. He breathes in deep, shallow gasps, stuttering and with a bit of drool. The sight alone is a heavenly gift from the Six. You throb deliciously around his cock, already collecting slick at the base. Sticky strings drip down your folds, clinging to his pubic bone as he not so subtly sleepily grinds himself into you.

Prompto

What could be more poetic and a clear sign that you and your boyfriend are soulmates than both of you getting bucked off of chocobos and suffering several semi-serious injuries of varied assortment? The tumble was enough to whiplash you two and were then forced by Ignis to stay at the hotel while he, Gladio, and Noctis were to go retrieve supplies in town for dinner tonight. Ignis already planned to have a stern talk with the vendors they'd rented the chocobos from.

To say the chef was perturbed was an understatement. Giving you what he called 'faulty skittish birds'. You and Prompto hadn't done anything to warrant getting tossed off your mounts. It had been a chain reaction. His had been startled first, kicking him off and yours, who had been directly behind his, followed suit. You hadn't noticed much at first until the pain burning beneath your skin grew and spread like wildfire from your wrist up to your shoulder. A broken wrist. Asphalt burned your palms and knees, completely scraped up and throbbing. The small pinpricks of red blood that surfaced from your abrasions were the only thing cooling down the heated, throbbing flesh of your new layer of skin now exposed. Your right knee had been scraped and banged up pretty good, with your ankle most likely twisted.

Prompto had fully broken his arm, being confined to a flimsy cloth brace while his arm remained in his cast-- he was just relieved it wasn't his dominant hand. So he could still take pictures without worry. His pretty freckled skin was also littered with scrapes and bruises.

"Just give me your list of what you need. I shall purchase them if I see them. We'll buy you two some desserts if we come across something especially delicious." Ignis promised, leaving with the boys not long after, Gladio giving a teasing wave as they left. They would definitely be gone for at least a couple hours.

Turning to look at Prompto, he gives you a bright smile managing a tiny thumbs up with his broken arm. The small scratches marring his freckled face make your heart ache. Today could've gone much worse than it did. You were thankful the worst was only broken bones.

"I know something I'd like for dessert." Prompto spoke aloud. His purple-blue eyes squinted into slivers as he grinned cheekily; a tiny flush of pink crossing his face. "We've got a bit of time. Think I could tempt you to hop on a different mount?" He giggled at his own joke, wiggling his eyebrows.

"What if I want to say yes to that ride?" You smirk at him, Prompto immediately going silent with flushed cheeks. He was good at fishing out flirtatious comments when it came to you, even after all these years together, but still wasn't able to handle them being given right back to him. Instantly he's scooting himself to rest his back against the headboard. He struggles with his belt buckle, wiggling down his jeans far enough to pull his cock out. Already dripping precum down his shaft.

It takes a bit of maneuvering, with the both of you dealing with broken limbs, each one on the opposite side. Prompto steadies you to the best of his ability, pushing your hips down onto his cock fully. His Adam's apple bobs in his throat, held tilting back as you cover his neck in little kisses.

"Missed how warm you are, pretty. It feels like it's been forever." Prompto pants, half-lidded and oh so smiley. "Guys are always getting in the way, not lettin' me have any alone time with you. Wrap your arms around my shoulders. Need'ta touch you." He groaned.

Doing your best to avoid any bruises, you do as he says. Pressing his thumb to your clit, you gasp loudly. Prompto is quick to pull you into a firm kiss, stroking your clit with messy circles. Very thankful to have the shoddy motel room to yourselves.

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

#final fantasy x reader #final fantasy smut #final fantasy vii x reader #final fantasy xv x reader #cloud strife x reader #cloud strife smut #sephiroth x reader #zack fair x reader #ignis scientia x reader #gladiolus amicitia x reader #gladio x reader #noctis lucis caelum x reader #noctis x reader #prompto argentum x reader #prompto x reader #reno sinclair x reader #cherubfae 2024

1K notes · View notes

cilliansmesoftly · 5 months ago

Text

chase it

pairing: tyler owens x fem!reader

summary: tyler has been harboring a severe crush on the team’s new meteorologist, but he’s scared she’s smart enough to reject him.. why can’t he follow his own mantra?

warning: best friends to lovers, love confession, angst, kissing, one bed trope, virginity lost, steamy smut!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ she haunted his dreams, she plagued every thought running through his head. all the meaningless hookups he’s had could never compare to you, and he hadn’t even had you yet. he hasn’t had a kiss, hell, he hasn’t gotten more than a proud pat on the back from you. so why couldn’t he escape the hold you, unknowingly, had on him?

his entire brand was based on chasing fears. to not let it hold you back from the things you want most. tyler had you in some ways, at least. he had you as a best friend, his most trustworthy companion. the two of you got along so well, was it worth ruining?

he couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. he’d much rather have a tornado pick him up and throw him into the sky than risk you not being in his life. you were too important to the team, to the cause, and to him. you got offered the opportunity to prove your meteorology skills on the field rather than behind a computer, and you couldn’t pass it up. you risked your career for this, and tyler would be damned to be the one to take that from you just because of a silly, gut-wrenchingly painful crush.

the team was at a local motel in oklahoma after a long day of chasing. dozens of other teams were in the parking lot, tailgating. tyler could hear the strum of guitars, singing, and laughter outside the window of his room. it was small, it had a strange smell that he didn’t want to know the source of. his eyes were fixed onto the box tv sitting on the dresser before a knock was heard at the door.

tyler sighed before getting up, his legs and back sore from how hard he had rode the truck today. the poor red dodge was battered and beaten from debris and tyler’s body was slammed around in his seat, but god, he loved it. he loved the chase, the adrenaline, the thrill. he could do it all day everyday without so much as a thought of fear. however, his breath hitched in his throat when he opened the door to reveal you in all of your gorgeous glory.

“hey.” you sighed out with a small smile. tyler cleared his throat and opened the door wider to let you in from the cool springtime breeze. “the motel doesn’t have anymore rooms. i’ve talked to every employee and every manager i could find.”

“just stay with me.” he spit out fast and without thinking. you’re best friends, you love each other. what could go wrong with sharing a bed for one night?

“oh, thank you.” you sighed in relief and wrapped your arms around him, ty took a step back from the impact, but quickly recovered and took in as much of your touch as you would give to him. “you mind if i shower real quick?”

“no, go ahead. you got clothes?” he asked once she stepped out of the embrace. he would kill someone to see her in one of his shirts. he imagined it baggy on her frame, her legs out on display and barely anything underneath the fabric. he imagined himself running his fingers down the smooth, soft skin of your thigh as you cuddled into him.

“did you hear me?” you snapped yours fingers in front of his eyes with a smile etched onto your face. he shook his head to clear the thoughts and raised his eyebrows, silently telling you he did, in fact, not hear what she said. “i asked if i could borrow one of your shirts, if you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind at all.” he said, walking around the bed to his duffel bag. he pulled out one of his favorite shirts, it was worn and comfortable, and he tossed it to you. you caught it with feeble hands, giving him a death stare. he knew you were clumsy and he used it to tease you any chance he could. he chuckled at you, watching as you just shook your head and walked into the small bathroom.

if his thoughts were running before you got here, now they were sprinting a full on triathlon. racing and branching off into a million different scenarios for how this night would go. maybe it wouldn’t go anywhere. maybe he’d put out the fire that was burning him alive, eating him up with desire. but maybe it would turn into something more. maybe he’d chase his feelings, maybe he’d ride this fear and turn it into everything he’s wanted since he met you.

if you feel it, chase it.

he repeated his tagline more than a hundred times in his mind. telling himself over and over and over. and in the middle of telling himself one last time, you stepped out of the bathroom and his breath was stolen from his lungs. your hair was wet and it was dripping onto his shirt that fit you so well. it suited you, wearing his clothes. it felt good, it felt normal.

“i feel so much better.” you smiled, climbing into bed. tyler was sat on the chair in the corner of the room and you frowned at how far away he was. “you coming to bed?”

tyler nodded and stood up, he pulled his shirt over his head and you swallowed. his abs were carved and chiseled, a deep v-line at the end of them, just above his belt and leading into his blue jeans. you had to stop yourself from staring before he caught you. he sat on the edge of the bed, his back facing you, as he pulled off his boots. you almost reached out to graze your fingers over the tanned skin of his back, but you caught yourself. you can’t fall for the face of your team, you told yourself. even if, at night when you were all alone, you imagined the two of you together. you thought about living together, chasing storms for a living and making the most out of chasing your fears, making the most out of life.

you thoughts were interrupted as tyler started to unbuckle his belt and pull his jeans down. you smiled when he caught you looking, so you tucked your face into the pillow on his side of the bed so he could undress.

“you can watch, darlin. you know i don’t mind.” you could hear the smirk in his voice and you shook your head against the soft pillow with a giggle.

“shut up.” your voice was muffled by the pillow, making tyler laugh under his breath. he pulled a pair of grey sweatpants out of his bag and slipped them on, collapsing on top of you on the bed. you groaned under his weight, trying to toss him off, but he wouldn’t budge. “ty, i can’t breathe.” you laughed out. he only snuck his hands around your waist, tickling your sides. you shrieked, your knees trying their best to buck tyler off of you. your laugh was music to his ears and his cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. he braced his legs to straddle you, so you couldn’t escape his unrelenting hands. you were wheezing, trying to toss and turn away from him.

tyler suddenly stopped and as you were trying to catch your breath, his lips met yours in a soft, but quick kiss. your eyes shot open and you gently pushed him off of you. tyler sighed, opening his mouth to apologize, but you cut him off.

“i can’t do this, ty.” the nickname falling from your lips made tyler feel like a child getting scolded for coloring on the walls.

“why not?” his voice was pleading, his eyebrows were pinched, making a cute little wrinkle appear on his forehead. you sighed, bringing your knees to your chest.

“because you’re my boss. you’re the leader of our team. i don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.” you shook your head. your brain was thinking clearly, logically. but your heart, on the other hand, was screaming at the top of its lungs, trying to get you to confess how you feel, how all you’ve ever wanted in life was someone like tyler. someone who makes you feel safe, secure. someone who would push you to live life to the absolute fullest, never letting fear take the wheel.

“we wouldn’t jeopardize it, y/n. i-i like the shit out of you, baby.” he dropped his head onto the bed in slight defeat before looking back up at you. “we can make it work.” his heart was pounding out of his chest, he was begging you to let this happen. he couldn’t face you if you didn’t.

“i-” you sighed, shoving your face into your hands. in and out, you breathed. thinking of every possible outcome that this could bring. “what about all of your other girls? the ones you take up to your room at night and never speak to again? are you gonna do that to me?”

“y/n, i would never to that to you.” he said lowly, taking your hands away from your face. your eyes were slightly watery and red-rimmed. his heart broke at the sight and vowed in his mind to never be the one to make you look like this again.

“how do i know that? you’re tyler owens. tornado wrangler, and known lady killer. how can i be sure that you won’t leave me for someone better?” you asked. you were honest in your questions, voicing every doubt you had, though there were only a few.

“there is no one better. there is no one that knows me better than you, y/n. no one who makes me laugh more, no one who makes me smile more, no one who can ground me like you, even in the face of a disaster.” he climbed to your side, taking your face in his hands to make you look at him. a slight tear fell down your cheek and tyler thumbed it away. you sighed, looking down while shaking your head.

“what if this isn’t a good idea?” you asked, your voice small and full of trepidation. he scoffed and pulled you closer, practically sitting in his lap now.

“i haven’t had an idea this good in a long time. you can vouch for that. most of the choices in my life aren’t very smart, but this one?” he tilted his head to meet your gaze. “i’ve had to build up so much courage and strength to even hint that i wanted this. i was scared.”

“you? scared?” you scoffed. “what’s all that talk about riding your fears then?”

“i guess i felt it… just took me a while to realize if i didn’t chase it, it’d slip from my fingers.” he kissed the top of your head and you leaned up to capture his lips. it was slow, gentle, telling him everything he needed to know about how you felt. you wanted this.

“you know, you took my breath away when i first met the team.” you said against his lips, and he groaned, leaning his forehead onto yours.

“all these months we’ve wasted, we could’ve had each other on the first day. i thought my legs were gonna give out when we picked you up at the airport. you were the most beautiful thing i had ever laid eyes on, baby.” his words made your heart ache, no one had ever said anything so sweet to you before and you knew were in good hands.

“no day with you is wasted.” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing him down to kiss you. you swiped your tongue on his bottom lip, begging to explore him. he didn’t even think before opening his mouth wider and intertwining his tongue with yours, massaging all around. he groaned into the kiss like this is all he’s ever wanted, which is true. his hands found your waist and pulled you under him. one of his knees were between your legs and the other was braces beside your right leg. he brought his knee up higher, allowing you to grind down on the soft fabric of his sweatpants. your mind was racing again, trying to find the right time to tell tyler. as if he could sense your thoughts, he pulled back slightly, panting.

“what’s wrong, baby?” he hand came up to caress your cheek and you leaned into his touch before hiding into his forearm. “what is it?”

“i’ve- i’ve never…" you trailed off with a frustrated huff. tyler didn’t catch your drift, looking at you with confusion, but also patience and admiration. “i’ve never done this before, ty.”

“oh,” he replied, and you sighed into his skin. “we can wait.”

“what?” you looked back at him, your brows furrowed slightly.

“if you want to wait, that’s okay. we don’t need to rush.” he said gently.

you thought for a moment. you trusted tyler with every bone and fiber of your being. there was no one else you thought would be more careful and gentle than him.

“can you teach me?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes and tyler had to hold back from bucking into you at your innocent expression. so cute, so sweet.

“yes, baby.” he sounded so sincere, proudly honoring the fact that he would be the first you trusted enough to guide you through this. “as much as i love how you look in my shirt, can i take it off?”

you nodded, but he tsked with a shake of his head.

“gonna need your words, sweetheart.”

“yes.” you breathed out, your body tingling in arousal and slight anxiety.

“relax.” he said into your ear before kissing your cheek. his fingers grazed your sides where his shirt had rode up on you, he slowly slid it up your body and over your head, tossing it onto the motel room floor. “i got you, okay?”

“okay.” you nodded.

“you’re breathtaking.” he whispered, leaning back to take you in. the valley between your breasts was beckoning him to kiss the skin, to mark his way all the way down the length of your body and all the way back up. “never seen anything so pretty.”

you blushed at his words, covering your face with your hands, but tyler whined and brought them back down.

“don’t hide from me, darlin.” he toyed with the hem of your panties. a simple cotton pair that had lace trim at the top, he looked up at you for approval before sliding them down your legs and into the pocket of his sweats. his body shivered at the sight of your perfect center, glistening in arousal. he brought his index finger up to gather some of the slick and spread it around your core, unabashedly licking the rest off his digit.

you moaned as he kissed your clit, swollen and pleading for attention. tyler cooed as you writhed underneath him. “gotta be still, honey.”

“can’t.” you breathed out, feeling his breath hovering right over you was torture. tyler laid his forearm over your belly, a firm pressure to keep you from moving. his mouth was all over you, sucking your clit, kissing the inside of your thighs. you were a whining, moaning mess. as you leaned up a bit to watch him, you caught him rocking his hips into the mattress. a filthy, heavenly sight that had you falling back with a cry of pleasure. he was getting himself off on eating you out and you couldn’t take it anymore. “ty, i’m close.”

“hold it, darlin’.” he ordered, prodding his fingers against your hole. “gotta get you ready for my cock, doll.”

you could’ve sworn you saw stars in your vision. the stretch was beautifully painful and your hands white-knuckled the sheets at the sensation. tyler was still working your clit and it took every ounce of strength you had not to come. he slowly let you get used to the feeling then added a second finger and you hissed, trying to pull back. “she’s a tight little thing,” tyler looked up at you. “not sure if i’ll fit in there.”

you gasped as he started to rut his digits into you, scissoring and stretching your walls to get you better fit for taking his cock.

“ty,” you breathed his name, already working up to your orgasm again. you were drunk off of his touch. it only got harder to hold off your climax as tyler brought your legs to sit over his shoulders, completely drowning himself in your slick. his eyes were closed, looking like the face of a man who hadn’t eaten in days. with a few more thrusts of his fingers and his lips working wonders on your clit, your walls clenched around him and your back arched off the bed. tyler groaned into you as you came, bringing you impossibly closer to his face. he worked you through your orgasm, licking up your slick and making he sure he got every last bit, almost too precious to waste.

“you taste like fucking candy.” he muttered, crawling up your body to plant a messy kiss to your lips. you could taste yourself on his lips and you swiped your tongue over his bottom lip before indulging in him. everything about tyler, you loved. you loved how the stubble of his cheeks felt against your chin and cheeks. you loved the way you could feel his cock against your tummy in his sweatpants.

“take them off.” you said against his lips, woozy from your orgasm and only driven by pure lust. your heels pushed back on the hem of his sweats and tyler laughed at your impatience.

he made a show of undressing. teasingly climbing off your body and tugging the material down his legs before stepping out of them. your mouth watered at the sight of him through his boxers, looking painfully hard. he smirked as he watched how your face dropped when he finally slipped off his underwear. you recovered quickly, sitting up on your elbows to beckon him to you.

he leaned down, kissing your ankles and dragging his tongue all the way to your belly before pressing a kiss there too, he made his way all the way to the valley of your breasts. his lips and tongue sucking marks onto your skin and his hands caressing your breasts.

“you’re such a tease.” you whined collapsing back onto the pillow in frustration. tyler laughed, laying his head down on your chest.

“i’m just enjoying this.” you raked your hands through his sandy blonde hair, relishing in the way he gazed so deeply at you. “need to cherish this.”

“if you don’t fuck me in the next two seconds i’ll call boone to come do it.” you said it with a straight face, fighting the sides of your mouth to not quirk up.

“don’t say that ever again.” he rumbled seriously, his big hands spreading your legs wider for him. “this is mine.”

“prove it.” you challenged. your dominance wavered as ty let the tip of his cock gather your arousal, hitting your clit as he rocked against you. he bent down to kiss you, trying to distract you from the stretch as he slowly pushed into your heat. “oh, dear god.”

“you got it, baby.” he pushed back the hair on your forehead, kissing your cheek sweetly. your hands found solace in his hair again, pulling at the root when he bottomed out. tyler groaned at the pain, already holding back from his own peak. “you feel so good.”

“y-you can move.” you encouraged, panting as if you were running a marathon. tyler slowly pulled out and pushed in, cherishing the sweet little sounds you let out before rocking into your hips faster.

the sounds of your wetness, the joint moans and groans coming from both of you, skin hitting skin, it all had your head feeling dizzy. you were so high on the moment. the adrenaline was coursing through your veins, you wished this could happen every night after a day of chasing.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” tyler’s voice broke you out of your thoughts and you cupped his cheeks to pull him into a kiss. your legs wrapped around his waist, ankles locking at the small of his back. the new angle forced him even further into you. tyler nipped at your bottom lip, his hips moving to the rhythm of their own song. “i’m getting close.”

“turn me around.” you gasped against his lips. tyler didn’t think twice before pulling out and turning you, hoisting you up so you were on your hands and knees for him. he marveled at the sight, slipping back into you easily. you both moaned at the feeling. ty was hitting your spot with every thrust and you had to muffle your loud noises with the pillow under your head.

“you’re all mine.” he growled into your ear, his hand gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling you up so your back was flush against his chest. his left hand reached around your body to circle your clit and you had to fight the urge to collapse back onto the bed. your bodies had a slight sheen of sweat to them and the room started to feel stuffy and hot. “say it.”

“i’m yours.” you mumbled.

“look at you, cock drunk.” he teased, your walls were clenching him with every thrust and he was losing his pacing. you felt so good, better than he imagined. “you wanna ride me?”

you didn’t have to say anything, you felt him pull out and suddenly you were on his lap, rubbing his cock through your folds, your head thrown back in bliss. tyler could come right then. to know he was the one making you feel like this while looking like that. you looked like an angel had just fell down from heaven and landed in his lap. you lined him up with your entrance, the two of you watching as his cock disappeared inside of you. you started to bouncing on your feet, the spongy spot inside of you getting abused with every movement you made. your knees were buckling from the pleasure and tyler caught on, matching his thrusts with your movements. his hand was rubbing up and down your back, the intimacy of it all made your heart ache.

“i love you.” your lips spewed the words faster than you could think. tyler flipped the two of you back over, kissing your lips before leaning back. his rough hands, calloused from work, dragged up your thighs, to your calves bringing them up to rest on his shoulders, he hugged your legs so that his face was all cute and smushed between them. his hips never wavered and you were so, so close to your peak.

“i’ve always loved you.” you came just as soon as the words left his lips and he was right behind you. his cock twitched as he emptied everything he had inside of you, your legs fell off his shoulders and he collapsed onto you.

the next few minutes were spent catching your breath, fingers tracing skin, and sweet kisses.

“i’ll be right back.” tyler whispered against your lips, getting up and going into the bathroom. you cuddled against the duvet and watched him in awe. he came back with a wet rag, and he carefully spread your legs to clean up the mess you two had made. you hissed at the overstimulation and he kissed the inside of your thigh in apology. he threw the rag into the bathroom without even looking to see where it went and cuddled back in bed with you.

“i meant what i said.” you said quietly, you cheek pressed into his warm chest. “i love you, ty.”

“i meant it, too. ever since i first saw you, i knew it.” tyler’s fingers traced the skin of your back, drawing unknown shapes. “i’ve always loved you.”

“how in the hell are we gonna explain this to the team”? you shook your head against him. you could only imagine the looks on their faces when the two of you walk out of your room in the morning. the once best friends turned to lovers overnight.

“i’m pretty sure they all know.” he laughed under his breath. “i overheard boone and lily making a bet about when we would get together.”

“that’s what they were talking about?” your head shot up in shock and tyler smiled at the expression on your face. “well, lily knew i had a crush on you, like, months ago.”

“yeah?” he asked. “i told boone about mine, too.”

“i wonder who won the bet.” you giggled into his chest.

the room fell into a comfortable silence, you and tyler just enjoying each others presence before sleep finally took over you. tyler fell asleep soon after, your bodies intertwined and hands laced together.

the morning after, you and tyler got a text from boone about a huge cell forming a few miles from where you were. scrambling to get ready, the both of you walked out of the motel room to greet the team who all looked at each other with knowing smiles.

“don’t say anything.” you scowled at the team, who all shrugged like they didn’t know what happened. tyler smiled, his arm wrapping around you and slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

“sorry about the room thing, y/n.” boone apologized to you, but your brows furrowed.

“how did you know about that? you were asleep.” boone smiled and took a few steps back.

“i might’ve slipped the manager fifty dollars to tell you there weren’t any rooms so that you and ty would hookup.” he said sheepishly, his feet turned to be ready to run at any time. lily shot up from her seat on the tailgate of the truck.

“what?!” she shrieked. “you cheated, asshole!”

“you owe me some money, lil.” boone stuck his tongue out, but sprinted away as lily started running after him.

“welp,” tyler watched as his team went into full defense mood, trying to get each member on either boone’s side of logic or lily’s. “think the tornado will wait on them to stop fighting?”

“fat chance.” you leaned against his chest, looking up at him. tyler looked down and his heart melted at the sight of you. finally his girl is in his arms. he could swoon. “i think we owe boone a thank you.”

“how long do you think they’ll fight?” he didn’t even look over the bickering friends. his eyes were solely focused on you. “can i sneak you back into the room for a few minutes?”

you thought for a moment, watching boone and lily cuss each other like siblings before looking up at tyler. “yes sir.”

the two of you ran off, back to solace of the room, tornados to be wrangled, but you couldn’t care less. if you feel it, chase it.

#spotify #glen powell #glen powell imagine #glen powell smut #twisters #twisters movie #tyler owens #anyone but you #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #jake seresin #lana del rey #lana del ray aesthetic #born to die #hollywood

2K notes · View notes

markiecake · 7 months ago

Text

📹

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

tags/ warnings: smut (minors dni !!!), mirror sex, markie films while he fucks you, calls you his camgirl at one point :3, spanking (like once), pet namessss (good girl, baby, angel, etc u know the drill), praising !!!!, creampie

you couldn't help but feel just a lil bit embarrassed :(

you were looking back at yourself in the full body mirror in front of you, and you looked pathetic to say the least.

mascara streaming down your cheeks, hair stuck to your face, drool down your chin.. you were a mess 😵‍💫

a spank to ur ass snapped you out of your trance, and your eyes were redirected to mark, who was behind you.

"there she is," he laughed from behind you as he held his phone in his shaky hands.

he always talked about filming the two of you, because he's away all the time !! of course he needs something to get off to while he's gone !

the flash from his camera was making you squint as you continued to look in the mirror.

"i told you i'd stop if you- fuck- didn't look in the mirror, didn't i?" he spoke through grunts, "so watch, baby."

and at this point you were so close, the want for pleasure took over your pride. your head was spinning as you watched yourself get closer and closer to cumming.

although he had to keep it somewhat together for the sake of filming, mark was just as much of a mess as well. his hair was sticking to his forehead, one hand focusing on his phone and the other on your waist. he prayed that his phone would pick up your sounds as well.

"taking it so well, baby. my sweet girl, my best girl." he began to rant under his breath. you were reduced to whimpers as his thrusts became sloppier overtime.

"m- markie," you whine, "soso close, please-"

"yeah? you gonna cum for me like a good girl?" he asked, to which you weakly nodded, "go ahead, angel. show me how much of a pretty camgirl you are."

you thought your brain was going to melt as he somehow sped up, making you see start. you reach back to grip at his arm as you watch yourself lose control.

you just about scream as you cum around his cock, your nails digging into his arm. you let out loud moans, as well as small whimpers of mark's name, repeated like a mantra.

your body shook, while mark was showing absolutely no signs of stopping yet.

"you gonna let me cum in you, love?" he asked, "let me make a mess of you? yeah?"

you nodded quickly, tears slowly falling down your cheeks. you could barely put two words together at this point, being so lost in the feeling D:

one final thrust made his hips still, holding your waist with an iron grip as he still somehow managed to capture every single moment.

we all know mark has the biggest breeding kink in nct (IT'S TRUE !!!!), so he definetly didn't want to waste a second of this.

he slowly pulled out, and moved the camera down to your used pussy, where his cum slowly dripped out. he heard you whine of "markieeee" when you saw what he was doing, but he just smiled to himself.

this was going straight to his favourites.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee hard thoughts #mark lee hard hours #nct dream #nct x reader #mark lee smut #nct 127 #nct smut #nct drabbles #nct #mark x reader #nct mark

1K notes · View notes

st0ryf1lms · 6 months ago

Text

is it really you? ➳ ken sato

pairing: ken sato x reader

word count: 866

genre/warnings: fluff, sort of a crack fic, 3+1 things, wrote this with a sarcastic tone LMAO, a bit of profanity, grammatical errors most likely (wrote this at 1AM), reader uses fem pronouns

synopsis: the 3 times kenji sato swore he saw you, and the 1 time he actually saw you.

a/n: yes, i'm finally giving in to the kenji sato brainrot HUHUHUH if i had known he was the reason my writer's block would disappear, would've watched the movie sooner i'm ngl edit: AAAAAA WHAT 600+ NOTES??? U GUYS ARE INSANEEE I LOVE YOU ALL this is now up on my ao3!!

At the New Tokyo Dome at his first game as a Giants player

Maybe he was just dreaming, maybe it was the fatigue actually catching up to him ever since he hopped off that plane, or maybe he did actually see you in that stadium amongst the crowd cheering his name. You, as in his childhood best friend, arguably one of the best parts of his childhood in Japan before leaving for LA. You, as in the childhood best friend he never got to say a proper goodbye to. You, as in the childhood best friend whom he always missed and cried to his mom about whenever he'd get homesick. (You, as in the childhood best friend he'd harbored a secret crush on as a kid. As an adult? Psh, what sane person gets hung up on a person who must've forgotten him all those years ago. Not Ken Sato, for sure, yeah, uh-huh.) He'd never know for certain, of course, because as he was about to stop and look, a Kaiju crashed a KDF plane into the ceiling of the stadium.

KAIJU ALERT, his watch blared in an angry red face. He sighed, making his way to the nearest stadium exit and heading towards the dimly-lit part of the street by the stadium. Not without stopping for a split second because he thought he saw your silhouette. Silhouette, really? My God, Kenji, pull yourself together, he told himself. Of course, that wouldn’t be your silhouette because he definitely doesn’t know what you look like anymore, what food you like, what your job is, how you held up after he left for LA. Of course, he doesn’t know that.

Shaking off any more thoughts of you, Kenji turned into his giant alter-ego to fight off the Kaiju wreaking havoc on the streets of Tokyo. (a distraction, really, as Mina would say.)

2. On a grocery run looking exhausted as hell.

It had been two weeks since he took in the baby kaiju in his basement and Kenji Sato has never been more exhausted. If you ask him, exhausted would be an understatement. Nevertheless, his mind was actually alive (much to Mina's surprise) because he swears this time, that he actually saw you. With his own two eyes. As if locked in a daze, he secretly followed you like a lost puppy with a push cart in the grocery store before realizing you were heading for the exit. He stopped in his tracks as the doors opened for you, realizing the items he got weren't paid for yet.

Begrudgingly, he went back inside the grocery and got the rest of the items he needed before going back to his house.

Next time, I swear, I'll talk to her, Kenji said to himself as he drove back to his place.

3. During Emi's acid reflux rampage.

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed to himself like a mantra as he zoomed across the streets of Tokyo on his bike, trying to chase after the pink baby kaiju that somehow escaped his basement that he explicitly placed under the care of Mina (in case you couldn’t tell, he's definitely glaring at his AI assistant). Looking at the construction site beside him as he sat in traffic, an idea popped in his head. He could use that to give him a boost to quickly get to the baby. He rode up the makeshift ramp and turned into his giant alter-ego, catching his bike in time.

"Holy shit." He froze. Goddammit, had he really been that careless? Changing in front of a civilian? Nervously chuckling, he turned around to face the owner of the voice, mentally preparing his response [read: excuse] only to be wide-eyed and speechless. The owner of the voice was you. You, as in his childhood best friend, whom he's been trying to catch up with ever since he landed in Japan.

"What the fuck! Ultraman is Ke-" You exclaimed before you got rudely interrupted by the giant superhero. "Hey, shhh! Can we, like, stay quiet on this matter? I know I don't have an NDA right now but my bike will suffice, I guess. I'll get it back from you, I swear, I just really have to take care of this right now. Treat you to our usual spot? Thanks!" He said frantically before running away to take care of his huge baby problem.

Not really the best way to reconnect with your childhood best friend.

+1. After the battle at sea with the KDF.

"Hey, sorry for being late, had to take care of something." He apologized as he jogged up to you on your usual hang-out spot when you were children. You reassured him, saying that you had just arrived, too. "I didn't know what kinda stuff you eat now as an athlete superstar so I just went for the safest convenience store options." You said sheepishly, holding up the plastic bags with a weary smile. "I don't mind, I actually like convenience store snacks." He beamed on how you still remember what he used to like as a kid.

"So, Ken Sato, gonna explain?"

"Oh, you're gonna want to sit down for this."

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman rising

954 notes · View notes

essektheylyss · 1 month ago

Text

I love that Caleb does not ever seem to take opportunities to take any kind of "this might be the last moment I have" actions. No matter what, when everyone else is going around and making their desperate moves, Caleb doesn't. Even after he recommends otherwise to others, it is notable that he among the group doesn't do so, and this is consistent with his previous behavior.

I like to think that stems from the moment he opted against trying to work with Trent—which I think, at its core, was an attempt at such an action. If Caleb had died fighting the Somnovem, he had every reason to believe that Trent would continue in his actions. Though Astrid and Eadwulf were willing to subtly undermine him, they had made it clear that they were not willing to challenge him outright. Caleb tells the Nein, when they are discussing their last wishes at the Blooming Grove before returning to Eiselcross, that he would appreciate Trent being eliminated in the event of his death. I have to believe that there was a fear or regret that his dearest motivations would not come to fruition which spurred his interest in using an alliance with him in Aeor to trap and kill him.

I've mentioned elsewhere that I believe Essek's willingness to disagree with him was one of the factors in Caleb being able to trust him and his judgment, but I would also argue it was a wake-up call for Caleb—about letting himself be distracted; about not focusing in on the mission at hand; about, potentially, expecting failure in this goal, especially after he has watched his friends say their goodbyes as if they too expect to die. "Stay on task, Widogast," is a mantra he uses in Vergessen, but he does get caught up, to an extent, in enacting as much damage as he can to the place in the process, and regardless of whether this ruthless assault slowed or sped their discovery, Trent did catch up to them, and very nearly caught Veth and Jester as well as himself. Given Caleb's fears throughout the campaign that he will draw the danger that dogs him onto his newfound friends, and his later apology to Essek in the same conversation for drawing Trent's attention to him, it is not a stretch to argue that this is yet another guilt he shoulders.

It isn't lost on me that Caleb almost died before the Nein even met, he was perpetually aware of his fragility among the group, and he was the last member of the Nein to go down and need to be revived. So I just think it's very fun if he, who so often seemed to be on the verge of death, who in fact planned to step back in history and in the process erase the person he had become, found himself at some point determined to live, and firmly confident in his ability to do so.

He does not wrap up his affairs, he does not say goodbyes, and while he may acknowledge the stakes for the group, he does not entertain the idea that he personally will not make it out alive—because, as Dorian notes, he has a lot to live for. He has to get back home to his partner and his well-maintained garden; he has to make sure the Cerberus Assembly's nefarious schemes do not continue in Ludinus's absence, perhaps even in the absence of the Assembly itself, depending on what its members do in its wake; he probably has to go egg on his godson's shenanigans as payback for Veth threatening to shoot him out of the sky.

Caleb Widogast is an absolute cockroach of a wizard, and, in true Mighty Nein form, he is at all times thriving on unfinished business.

#cr spoilers #critical role #caleb widogast #cr meta #I JUST THINK IT'S GREAT IF HE DECIDED HE IS GOING TO LIVE DAMMIT #HE'S COME SO FAR HE'S DOING SO GOOD #anyway fun fact I was trying to work on this during the cable sequence and had to fucking stop cuz I was laughing so hard

449 notes · View notes

daenysx · 9 months ago

Note

one for the road- sleepy sex with james!! thx<3<3

join the 1111 followers celebration

thanks for requesting! ♡

james potter x fem!reader, smut

it's almost 5 am, you are curled up on james's side in bed. he holds you tight like he always does, his thigh between your legs to keep you steady and his arms wrapped around you.

you blink your eyes open slightly, brush a kiss on james's neck. he makes a little sound, still sleeping but clearly aware of your motions. you move your legs together, squeeze his thigh and unconciously press yourself against him. he makes another sound for you, deep from his throat.

the tight feeling in your lower belly starts being unbearable. you try to move yourself on his thigh to sleep comfortably but that only makes james wake up. "angel?"

"jamie?" you can't open your eyes, only desperate for some friction between your legs.

"come on." he whispers with a sleepy voice. "gonna help you baby, you don't have to get yourself off like this."

"please." you whisper back, he moves your panties aside quickly. he's half asleep but his fingers know what they are doing.

james pushes a finger into your wetness, his thumb starts rubbing your clit. you bury your face to his neck, blushing so hard in your sleepy state. james keeps his lips tight on your hair as he moves his finger.

"better?" he asks.

"hmm." you mumble something he can't hear. "please, jamie."

"please, what?"

"not enough." you murmur. "need more."

james pulls his finger back. he clumsily frees himself from his boxers, kicks them under the sheets. he cups your ass to pull you towards his cock, even in sleep he's the strongest man you've ever known.

he hits your wetness with the tip of his cock, the warmth of you makes him harder than he already is. you part your thighs to help him, he pushes himself inside you without waiting. "oh-" you moan for him. "so good, james."

"you're so warm." he says, lost in the pleasure. "so wet for me, aren't you?"

you nod with your head on his chest. he thrusts into you, you move your hips accordingly. he pushes himself once more, letting you keep him fully inside. the stretch is perfect, james's skin is so hot and his muscles are getting tense around you. you suck a spot on his neck when he supports you from your thighs to settle deeper.

"james." you whimper. "i wanna go back to sleeping."

"we can sleep like this, sweetheart, i'll hold you."

you shake your head with a pout. "i need to come first. i need it so much, please."

james drags a finger to your clit, he rubs the swollen skin gently. his eyes are closed and his body begs for a proper sleep again. he moves his hips against you slowly, pinches your clit just the way he knows you'll go insane. he groans to the pillow when you clench around him, you are close as he can feel.

"mm-hmm." he nods with satisfaction. "such a good girl for me, you lovely thing. come for me and then you can sleep."

you follow his words, the tightness leaves you dizzy as it explodes. you whimper his name like a sleepy mantra, clenching hard around him, coating him with wetness as you finally relieve yourself.

"come on, jamie." you beg. "don't you wanna relax, too?"

james comes with a groan, you smile against his neck. it takes him a moment to process his peak, his sleepy brain is too tired to move another muscle.

"stay like that, baby." you say before drifting off. "i love you so much."

james whispers the words as a half sentence, he falls into an even deeper slumber.

#1111 followers celebration #follower milestone #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter smut #james potter imagine #james potter x fem!reader #james x reader #james x you #marauders #marauders imagine #marauders smut #marauders fic

2K notes · View notes

pedroscurls · 3 months ago

Text

in every lifetime (pt. 2)

summary: you and logan try to steer clear of each other, the scars running so deep that certain memories of the past occur. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader word count: 3.5k tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), flashbacks from both reader's world and worst!logan's universe (in italics), no use of y/n. a/n: i'm so so surprised at how well the first part was received and i just want to thank everyone who's read it!!! i'm a sucker for angst and i'm so excited to make this into a longer series. in each part, there's gonna be a song that basically sums up the feels for the chapter. song: wherever you will go by the calling prev. part - next part.

“I’m not him.”

His words repeat in your mind like it’s some kind of mantra, trying to convince you that the Logan you saw a week ago wasn’t the same Logan you lost all those years ago.

But he was right there, so close and yet so far. The subtle touches that night only reminded you of the man you lost. Even after all this time, he still had such a strong hold on your heart.

But this Logan wasn’t yours and he made that very clear. It felt like the world was laughing in your face, taunting you by having the love of your life resurrected in a version that wanted nothing to do with you. You weren’t naive, you knew that this person wasn’t the same man you had fallen in love with, but your soul yearned for him and you knew he felt it too.

You never truly recovered from losing your Logan. Instead, you had just forced yourself to get up day in and day out for Laura because you knew that’s what Logan would have wanted you to do. As the years passed, you became numb to the loss of him. You tried not to think about him, tried not to reminisce of the moments you shared with each other, but there had been times throughout the years where something reminded you of him.

And every time, it crippled you. Took hold of every inch of your being until all you could think about was Logan and it broke your heart all over again.

But seeing him caused your entire world to stop, serving as a reminder of the gaping hole that your Logan left in your heart.

While you tried to forget your Logan, to just continue living your life until it was your turn to go, seeing a different version of him just brought back all of the memories you tried so hard to erase. You wanted to forget, wanted these memories of him gone from your mind because it just hurt too much.

But here he was. A walking reminder of the man you loved.

The man you lost.

And the man you will never get back.

–

“I’m not her.”

Logan couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night he saw you. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t her, to convince himself that you weren’t the same woman he lost.

But having you so close where he could have just reached out and touched you stirred a lot of unresolved emotions that he tried so hard to bury. He knew you weren’t the woman that he had fallen in with – you were just some version of her in this universe and he had to wonder if this was life’s way of punishing him for all of the things he had done in his.

Logan wanted to push you away and he made it very clear that night that he wasn’t your Logan and that he never would be. He needed to keep you at a distance, but every fiber of his being yearned for you. Since that night, all Logan could hear was your laugh, your voice. All he could see was your smile, your eyes that gazed up at him.

He tried so hard to snap out of it because you weren’t her.

And when he was alone, when the hope that things could be different finally vanished, all he could see now was the same woman who had died in his arms because of him. All he could hear was your voice, calling out to him to save you, and the last words you told him before you took your last breath.

He barely slept and drinking only did so much. This universe was supposed to be his second chance at being a better version of himself, but he didn’t know how he could do that when he knew you existed in this world.

Your mere existence haunted him, causing a lot of conflicting feelings.

He wanted another chance with you, but how could he do that when he knew that you were better off without him? Safer without him?

This Logan didn’t belong in this universe, he knew that much.

But he couldn’t help the hope that he felt within himself (and from you) that maybe this wasn’t life’s way of taunting you both, but rather a second chance to make things right.

To be happy.

To have an ending that you both deserve.

With each other.

—

“You know, I’d do anything for you,” you tell Logan, who’s lying in bed next to you. What had started as a very casual situationship had turned into something much more serious.

Logan started spending more and more nights at your place, finding comfort in your presence. You were the calm within the storm, the peace within the chaos. He didn’t know when things changed, when things shifted, but his soul yearned for you.

“I know you would, bub,” he’d reply. Logan never made his feelings for you known, never made it obvious because if he did, it would make things more complicated than he already made it to be. He often wondered why he found you so late in his life, after everything he had been through, Logan finally had a chance of happiness but he didn’t know how long he had.

He could feel that his body was much different than before. Could feel the pain of his wounds last longer before it healed itself.

But you made him feel young again, made him feel like he finally deserved a life that he had seen others live. A chance to be happy. A chance to love.

“I’m serious, Logan.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“I think I love you.” you admit.

Logan sits up in bed abruptly. He can feel his chest tightening with so many emotions: relief, joy, fear. He feels you reach out for him and he just stands up, gathering his clothes and beginning to put them back on without a word.

“Logan–”

“No,” he growls. “No.”

You scramble to your feet, grabbing the sheet from your bed to wrap around your naked frame. With one arm holding it up, you use your other hand to rest on his chest. “Stop running.”

“Ain’t running. We both know exactly what this was, bub,” Logan says, shrugging your hand off of him. “I ain’t good for you, and we both know that.”

“Don’t you love me too?” you ask, voice quivering as you take a step away from him. “I know who you are, what you are, the things you’ve done and seen… but I love all of you. The good, the bad. All of it.”

Logan pulls on his black slacks and white tank top, glancing over at you. He feels tethered to you, feels like if he walks out of that door that he wouldn’t come back and he’d never fully recover.

“Of course, I love you,” Logan admits. “But I can’t– We can’t–” he feels his breath hitch in his throat. “I mean it. I ain’t good for you, bub. You deserve someone better than me.”

“I deserve you,” you hesitantly reach out for him, afraid that he’s going to pull away from you again. “There is no one better than you, Logan.”

“Things don’t ever work out for me,” he whispers, looking down at your hand that moves to take hold of his. “If I lose you, I won’t ever forgive myself.”

“You won’t lose me,” you promise.

“You don’t know that.”

“What happens if I lose you? What happens then?”

Logan shrugs. “You’ll be fine.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you tell him honestly. “My heart will always belong to you. In every lifetime. In every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan gazes at you and can see the tears in your eyes. Your free hand moves to rest gently on his chest, above his beating heart. You look at him in a way that no one ever has, that despite all of the things he has done, you still see the good in him.

And it was in that moment that Logan promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy, to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

“In every lifetime. In every universe,” he repeats, voice quiet as he leans into you…

Suddenly, you awake, gasping for air as you scramble to reach out to the empty space next to you. “Logan…” you call out for him, the sudden realization hitting you straight to your core. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you bring your legs up to your chest, beginning to cry into your knees. Your dreams – or rather memories – of Logan occur almost every night since meeting some version of him last week.

This new Logan had the same exterior as your Logan, haunted by his own memories, by his regrets and failures. But you couldn’t help the fact that while you were yearning and missing your Logan, you also craved this new Logan.

Was this life’s way of giving you another chance?, you had to wonder. And if it was, would you take it?

—

It was another morning where Logan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor on the coffee table as he tried so hard to forget you and erase the memories that tied you to him. But even when he closed his eyes, you were all he could see.

“So, you do like me,” you grin up at him.

“I tolerate ya,” Logan answers with a smirk.

“Hm,” you gaze up at him. “I think you more than tolerate me. Just admit it, Logan. You like me.”

“And so what if I do, bub?” he asks, taking a careful step into your personal space. Logan can hear your heart race begin to beat faster and he smiles to himself. There had always been an instant attraction that he felt towards you when he came to the mansion and found you teaching a literature class to mutants. You had locked eyes with him as he was passing your classroom and flashed him a smile.

Logan never believed in love at first sight, but you had certainly made an impression on him from that brief glance alone. The more he got to know you and spend time with you, the stronger his feelings for you grew.

“If you do – which I think you do,” you begin. “Then I’d tell you that I like you too. A lot, actually.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to feel his heart racing at your admission. When he was around you, Logan felt calmer. And you always looked at him like he was someone worthy of your attention. Logan knew early on that there was a lingering longing for you, a craving that showed him he wanted more of you.

“That so, sweetheart?” Logan grins, hand gently resting on your cheek. His touch was such a stark contrast from what he was capable of. The same hands that were now touching you had hurt so many other people and yet with you, he was gentle, careful.

“Yeah, Logan,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “And I’d very much like it if you could kiss me now.”

“I think you’re trouble,” he mumbles, running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “If I kiss you now, that makes you mine.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Logan,” you reply, gently grazing your teeth across the tip of his thumb.

“I ain’t ever gonna let you go,” Logan admits. “There is no going back if we do this.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it. I want you.”

Logan stares into your eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you were lying. But you never did lie to him. In fact, you were the most honest person he’s ever met. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to give into this because he knows that who he is and what he is is a danger to anyone that’s close to him.

And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you.

“Are you sure?” Logan asks.

“I’ll always be yours, Logan,” you admit honestly. “In every lifetime and in every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan hears the sound of Althea cursing aloud, which causes his eyes to open as he looks around. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not in the same universe anymore and there’s a sudden realization when he remembers that you were gone. In his universe, you were dead.

He pays no attention to Althea, grabbing his liquor bottle and grunting in her direction before he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once the door shuts, Logan sits on the edge of his bed and lies back, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of you. Thinks of the night he saw you last week. The sound of your voice, the sound of your laughter, the sight of your smile, the gaze in your eyes…

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he mumbles to himself.

—

Later that night, Wade’s having his weekly family dinner again. Logan tries to make an excuse that he’s going to leave for the night, that he doesn’t want to participate or be around anyone, but Wade saw right through it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Wade asks, setting up the table and making sure to gather chairs around it. “I don’t even know if she’s coming,” he lies.

“Laura will be here.”

“Doesn’t mean that she will be.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not be here if she is.”

“You know, you’d think that seeing the woman you love alive again would get you excited. Instead, you’re running away like you usually do,” Wade says seriously. “You know what happened in your universe wasn’t–”

“Enough,” Logan interrupts. “We don’t talk about my universe anymore, got it?”

Wade raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. All I’m saying… This is your second chance to be better, Peanut. Why not actually make a life for yourself here?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” Logan answers and then grabs a case of beer from the fridge along with another bottle of whiskey. “I’ll be in my room. I won’t bother you and you don’t bother me. Got it?”

“Sheesh,” Wade says. “Fine, Peanut.”

Logan grumbles under his breath and then walks into his room, shutting the door behind him and quickly opening a bottle of beer that he downs with ease.

As the hours pass, Logan tries to tune out the chatter coming from the living room. He doesn’t hear your voice amongst the amount of people in the apartment and while that should provide him some relief, it instead does the opposite. It disappoints him. He wants you nearby, wants to hear your voice, your laugh, smell your scent from miles away.

Logan wants you here.

And just as his mind drifts, he hears a knock on his door.

“Don’t bother me,” he calls out.

The knocking persists and he lets out a sigh of frustration. Logan stands from the bed and then swings the door open to see Laura standing on the other side of the door.

“What do you want?”

“For you to talk to her,” she answers, completely unbothered by his attitude. “I think you both can help each other.”

“Yeah, well that ain’t happening, kid. Now, please–” Logan’s about to shut the door when the younger woman’s hand reaches out to stop it from closing.

“I know she isn’t her and I know you aren’t him, but I also know that you both are thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“That this can be a second chance for the both of you.”

“Ain’t no such thing as second chances,” Logan replies.

“You saved our world, Logan,” Laura says softly. “You saved her.”

Logan can feel his chest tightening. “I killed her,” he corrects. “In my universe, I–” he shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just leave me alone, kid.”

This time, Laura allows him to close the door.

—

You’re pacing in front of Wade’s front door, heart beating out of our chest in anticipation that you might see Logan again. This was the first time in the last week that you managed to get yourself out of bed, having called out from work for an entire week. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and ironically, Logan’s flannel. Your Logan’s.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door and see it swing open. Wade’s on the other side with a large grin, welcoming you inside.

“You made it,” he grins.

“I’m only here to pick up Laura,” you correct him.

“Well, you and the big guy are certainly avoiding each other,” Wade points out. “Why is that?”

“Wade,” you sigh quietly. “I’m just here to pick up Laura,” you repeat.

Wade sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. But between you and me? This seems like a second chance that not a lot of people get.”

You don’t respond and see Laura round the corner. You smile in her direction and pull her into a hug. You can tell that her having another Logan in this universe is also taking a toll on her and you try to tell yourself, to convince yourself, that you need to be better for her.

“Ready to go?” you ask.

“Yeah, think so.”

“Great, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then we’ll head out.”

You release her and walk down the hallway to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and sigh, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you feel tears threaten to spill over. You know he’s here, know that he’s somewhere close because you can feel his presence.

Logan had been on high alert the moment you entered the apartment building. His heart rate picks up when he can smell your scent waft through his senses followed by your voice. It isn’t until he hears you enter the bathroom and begin crying that he feels a twist in the pit of his stomach.

He probably shouldn’t be focusing his hearing on you, especially since it seems like just being here was causing you so much pain, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the closest he can get to you while keeping you at a distance.

—

After a few minutes, you wipe your eyes and make yourself presentable. You know if Laura sees you crying, she’s going to want to do everything in her power to make you feel better and you don’t want to burden her with your feelings.

With a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom with your eyes gazed downwards. Suddenly, you bump into someone’s hardened chest and your hands immediately reach out. There’s a sense of familiarity with your touch and when you slowly look up, you see Logan gazing down at you.

“Logan, I–”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to move away. He just keeps his eyes locked on yours. Logan keeps his hands at his sides, his fingertips itching to touch you, to feel you.

You drop your hands back to your side and bite your lower lip in embarrassment. You’re both standing in the hallway, away from the sounds of chatter and laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I should have watched where I was going.”

Logan just nods, but instead, he takes an inch step towards you. It causes you to take a step back until your back gently touches the wall. He’s crowding your space, gazing into your eyes. Logan knows that he should run, knows that he should keep himself far from you, but he can’t.

Your souls are tied to each other, bonded in every lifetime. Even if he tried to forget about you, tried to keep himself at arm’s length, Logan knows that it would only hurt you (and him) more.

Logan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares into your eyes and just like the version of you in his universe, you’re looking at him like he’s enough, like all you can see is the good in him. And it makes his heart swell, reminds him of the moment he locked eyes with you in his universe for the first time.

And maybe Wade was right. Maybe this is his second chance at making things right.

Slowly, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan feels an electric pull towards you at the soft touch and he knows you felt it too.

Quietly, Logan whispers, “In every universe and in every lifetime, I’m yours.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, remembering the dream you had earlier this morning and those same words you told your Logan when you told him you loved him for the first time.

Maybe Wade had a point. Maybe this is your second chance.

532 notes · View notes

sashiavi · 3 months ago

Text

✧˚·.SashiAvi's Kinktober Day One.·˚✧

#1|Double Penetration|#1

Sebastian x Reader x Sam - word count - 6.5k

•··········•·············°·············•☆•·············°·············•··········•

You were such a pretty and tempting thing, new to the Valley all wide-eyed and lost, so nice and so, so sweet, giving up your pretty self just like that. Willing and ready after a few nice comments and a compliment or two, a look, a caress and you were giving your body to them. To both of them. Sebastian and Sam, Sam and Sebastian, a dynamic duo rarely seen apart, always one step behind the other; Except when it came to sweet bedroom activities with you.

The pair have had their fair share of experiences with you; Like sneaking around behind the saloon with Sam, kissing feverishly into his lips, all tongue and teeth. Until he had you getting down on your knees in the grass to kiss against his clothed cock, nose pressing into the pudge of his hard-on, huffing a sweet and dreamy sigh. Look at you, looking up at him like that while you kiss and nip, nuzzling into his crotch, teeth unzipping the fly to his pants. You were such a sweetheart, taking him down your throat like that, arms wrapped lovingly around him in a snuggly hug, urging his fat, pudgy tip to fuck deeper down your throat.

Or when you go and visit Sebastian in the mid-morning hours, finding the man fast asleep, snoozing away laid comfy on his back, the blanket half off of his naked form, arm stretched above his head. You were so good to him, tugging his cock to be nice and hard, spit-slicked palm massaging into the swell of his pink tip. So good for slipping your panties to the side to sink him into your moist cunt. So warm, so sweet, straddling him like this, fucking him awake, earning a happy raspy hum from his throat and a rough snap of his hips. Yoba, he loved fucking you like this, taking over the control you had on him, hands gripping bruisy on your waist while his hips meanly grind and fuck.

It was common for you to treat them like this, being so sweet to them, doting and taking everything they offered up for you and more. An unspoken agreement, passing you between them, no tricky sticky strings attached! It was needed. For you to have both of them that was. Sam was soft, appreciative with words and touches, fucking you tenderly on his impossibly thick length - You needed Sebastian’s mean bites, his rough fucks and heavy spanks, all the gross and dirty words he had for you, all bark and bite to add. You needed them both.

There had been a few close calls so to speak. Nearly being interrupted by the other man. Like when your pretty hand was wrapped nice and sweet around Sebastian’s cock, tugging him off under the saloon table while Sam left for the bathroom. He urges you with a chuckle. Belt buckle unclasped, waistband pulled down just enough to reveal the curve of his cock and plush of his balls, your hand milking just under his tip. Sticky and loud, dirty, dirty noises from the drooly pre and hot spit he’d told you to dribble on him, schluck, schluck, schluck only hidden by the chatter of the bar. You tell him you don’t have time-! “He’ll be back-” You urgently murmur.

“So? Gonna make me cum or what? Can’t keep your filthy hands off of me- Uh-uh. Don’t stop now, Princess.”

Or when Sam had lost track of time, his face buried into your sweet cunt, lapping and kissing away, large palms splayed over your thighs while he shook his head, dragging his tongue on your clit. He had you in his bed, pressed into his mattress by his hands, tongue fucking your cunt feverishly, lovingly, whiny groans of appreciations muffled against you. Slick and sweet, messy on his tongue, feeding him with cries of his name like a mantra “Sam.. Sam~ Saaam..” ringing in his ears while your fingers twirl into his hair. It’s especially messy when he hears the shuck of shoes on the gravel path, the spicy, smoky smell of cigarette wafting through the crack of his window- Yoba, you pair didn’t have long at all, Sebastian surely, nearly at his front door.

“Cum f’me.. C’mon- cum, cummm, gotta hurry - fuck - cum on my tongue.”

Sharing you had come easy enough, especially with the fleeting comments and spice-filled touches the two men shared themselves. Awkward teenage first kisses leaving budding hard-ons straining in ripped jeans. Sweet parallel play handjobs with needy blue and green eyes fluttering over the other away from the porno playing on the laptop in front of them, hoping to catch a glimpse without the other seeing. Feverish frotting of their cocks deep into the night, whatever cheesy horror film forgotten in the background. Soft thrusts, rough fucks, frustrations taken out on each other’s bodies- Adding you into their separate rosters made everything sweeter.

But all of that was about to change. Whether you or they meant for it to or not.

They couldn’t help but entertain the idea. Not when you basically threw out the opportunity to them. Countless times each man had caught you whining the other’s name, a sweet and silly amalgamation of “S-Sambastian~!” tumbling from your pretty, kiss-bitten lips at least a handful of times. It wasn’t like they fully meant to have you like this, but Yoba, did it come easy.

It was a normal game of Solarian Chronicles, well, as normal as it was for Sebastian to have two fingers knuckle deep in your cunt, finger fucking you with wet pressing curls, all while Sam went off doing Yoba knows what- Neither of you were really listening all that much, far too enveloped in the sweet, budding tension zapping between you. It was hard enough to focus on the game alone, the threesome feeling a blanket of sticky lust, unspoken but all-knowing, laying thick over the corners of the tabletop map. It breaks the second the blonde closes the door, legs spreading, ring-clad fingers getting soaked in cream and slick, careful and whiny breaths huffing into Sebastian’s neck when he presses himself into you.

You were fun, good fun. Sweet and easy fun at arm’s length - Literally. Easy for Sebastian to snatch right up and enjoy.

“Fuck.. Look at you.” Sebastian urges, allowing his other hand to pinch your jaw, tugging you from the safety of his neck, urging you to look at the mess between your legs. Milky fingers squelching in the depths of your cunt, hugged by your tight hole- Yoba, he loved stretching you like this, scissoring his fingers in you, bullying into you. Another.. Just one more- Three long and dexterous digits lodged up in your heat, dripping with slick, palm rubbing into your clit with each rolling curl. The grip on your jaw was dizzying, fingertips squeezing just the right pressure points, making your head spin, leaving all the focus and feeling on the squelch of your pussy. Sebastian was good. An expert with his fingers, pretty, milky and veiny born out of the vigorous dance across his keyboard day in and day out, curling into that spongy spot inside of you, with the heel of his hand palming at your clit.

“S-Seb..I.. I’m-” your voice can’t help but stutter, breathless and bordering on a keening whine.

“..’You.. You’- You what, huh?” The man mocks. There's a huff of a laugh teetering on the edge of his tone, amused with your babbling, perhaps even endeared by it. Whatever it was, it has him hyper-focusing his attention on your puffy clit, grinding his palm into that swollen little thing, fingers moving to curl rather than fuck. Closer, closer came the sweet release he had been building for you, tensions running high, both of your gazes flickering to the closed door he had you facing. Whether out of worry or anticipation, the thick tensions between the two of you and that door were electrifying. “Gotta cum soon, hmm? What would Sam think? Seeing you like this.” You and he both knew that the blonde wouldn't be all too upset, but Yoba, does Sebastian still feel the wet clench of your cunt on his knuckles.

“Oh? Heh. Kissin’ on my fingers? Maybe you should moan louder- Get Sammy’s attention since you’re squeezin’ on me thinking about him.” He was a bully, but God did it work on you- Every. Single. Time.

Your throat dares to ripple a mewl, falling past the sink of your teeth in your bottom lip, the poor bitten thing coming undone with a soft pop as your mouth falls open. You’re not sure if that did it, or if it was just a coincidence, but a steady set of footsteps make their way down the staircase to Sebastian’s room, thump, thump, thump, coming closer and closer- Just like you were. With your cunt wrapped around Sebastian's fingers teetering right on the edge.

“Takin’ so long it's like you want him t’see you like this. Is that it?” He lets his teeth scrape a drag over the supple skin of your neck as he speaks, “Gonna cum before he comes in? Hmm..? Or are you going to embarrass yourself.” You’re sure the squelch of your cunt is more than noticeable, rhythmic with Sebastian’s pace, wet and messy at the spiking anticipation of seeing that doorknob twist.

“Seb..-” It's an attempt at a warning, as if either of you were going to stop now. Your eyes lock hard on to that door, your body squirming in Sebastian’s lap, hips humping back into the heel of his palm pressing into your clit, feverishly chasing that sweet release. The man chuckles into your ear, spreading his fingers apart, putting on a messy show- Three digits deep, down to the knuckle, purposely messing up your supple hole, feeling you clench and squeeze in protest.

You knew you were too loud, mewls fighting past your lips, huffy and breathless out into the open air of the basement, certainly seeping under the crack of the door. But you truly couldn't help yourself. Right there. Sebastian was right where you needed him, his fingers mashing into that supple little spot inside of you, into the spongy swell of your g-spot. How could you hide now? Keep down those noises when he had his palm grinding into your clit? So much- Too much even.

Your fingers curl around Sebastian's arm, your soft palm feeling the bump of his wrist bone press into it, greedily pushing him into you while your hips hump back on his digits. Your head tilts back, eyes threatening to flutter on closed, but Yoba it’s impossible - With the pressure of Samson opening up that door, you keep one eye diligently squinted open.

“Gonna- gonna, S-Seb-!” Voice absolutely breathless, a whimpered whisper right at the top of your throat, cut off with a choking hiccup of a moan. “Please- pleaseplease m’so close~”

“Cum then. Cum all’ver my fingers c’mon- Fuck, that's it, thaaats fucking it.” Sebastian's voice was like syrup, smooth and honey glazed, practiced in that tone that had you babbling for more. Words like that were dangerous, they had you begging and affirming- cried out ‘Yes. Yes. Yesses’ for him, had your brain going mush, pleading and begging so sweetly, so kindly.

Knock, knock, knock came a rasp of knuckles on the door, a tentative sound, nearly unsure from the owner. Despite the begs and pleas Sebastian had you tumbling off of your tongue, you're quick to fall right back from it. Your blood pressure surely spikes, prickly anxiety and a twinge of adrenaline rushing through your veins, a babbled protest barely making its way from your lips as you try to squirm; “Waitwaitwait- Seb-!” You try, you really try.

“S’ Open!” The man betrays you, a grin in his voice, fingers relentless with their fucking. You sob out a mortified sound, all shaken and whimpered as if you were a warbling little pet left outside in the cold. It comes with that feeling of your pulse, rapidly thumping in your ears, ringing them with a flush when the doorknob makes that squeaky metallic twist. You watch on in near horror, hearing the creak of the door through the wet, juicy mess of Sebastian's fingers rapidly grinding into your pussy. Sam pushes through, tentatively peeking out from behind the wood, his own freckled cheeks dusted over in pink, teeth sunken into the peachy plump of his bottom lip.

Just the reveal of Sam's face had you guiltily gushing over Sebastian's fingers with an incessant whine, both embarrassed and invigorated at the man's presence.

It's wet, and so fucking messy. Practically squirting over yourself and Sebastian, drenching his hand with your juices, all drippy and sputtering all for Sam to see.

Your thighs snap closed around Sebastian’s wrist in an attempt to soothe the sharp ache of your orgasm, head throwing back over his shoulder while you dribble out the sweetest apologies; “Sam- S-am m’Sorry- sorrysorry S-Sammy! M’sorry~!” You sob out with a whiny cry, hiccuping any air you can manage back into your lungs before you’re babbling off again.

You can’t help the sweet shake of your knees, twitching with your release, body squirmy in Sebastian’s lap in a pitiful attempt to both chase the high and hide away from the poor blonde. Sebastian doesn't let up either, finger still mushing into you, palm milking out the clenching release of your cunt - Heck, his other palm wraps around your shaky knee, his skin warm and tacky as his fingers dig into you, making a mean attempt to part your legs back open.

“N-noo.. Seb.. Sammy.. m’sorry-” Despite your protests, Sebastian manages to part your leg from the other, showing off the mess between your legs to the man at the door.

“S’pretty, hmm? Hah..” Sebastian teases with a huffy chuckle, spreading those three digits apart, covered in cream and sticky slick, enough to have you showing off the supple pink of your inner walls. The post-orgasm clarity has your brain fogged, swirly with humiliation and embarrassment, mingled with that fuzzy twinge of satisfaction in your chest- The little noises from your throat don’t stop, eyes blinking shut, forcing out bubbly little tears born out of hot humiliation.

Yoba, you don’t stop. Weakly voice crying out Sam's name in hushed and choked out sighs, soft apologies babble off of your tongue, voice jolting when Sebastian’s fingers dare to curl and press.

Until Sam shuts you up.

Soon the man was kneeling to the floor, dropping down to the hardwood with a hearty and unhealthy thud, sure to be horrid for the durability of his knees. He was wordless, cogs working in his skull as he was watching from the door, eyes widened and chest completely void of breath- God he still doesn't say anything, only cupping the tear-stained apples of your cheeks before capturing your lips into a sloppy, mouth watering kiss.

Sam was eager. Soft and velvety pink tongue swirling over your own, taking every opportune sobby hiccup you make to suckle and kiss into your mouth. A creak of a groan manages past his lips, muffled as soon as you lock together again, each exhale coming from his throat tainted with a supple tune of his voice. You can’t help but cling to him, arms throwing themselves around his neck, taking his kisses earnestly, your own little mewls piping up from your chest.

“Fuck.” It’s all Sebastian says, his breath hot on your neck, locking eyes with Sam’s greeny-blues, unbeknownst to you- An eyebrow raises, a quirk of a thing, and a soft, longing groan from Sam follows, giving a final loving suckle to your tongue. A rough drag of Sebastian's canines along your neck builds up into a suckling kiss of his own Just like that, a new dynamic flourished between you.

It felt like something out of a pornographic film, so wound in fantasy that the very idea hadn’t ever rolled over your brain - A girl could truly dream, right?

And yet here you are, sandwiched snugly between the two men, somehow having made it into Sebastian's bed. It was a bit of a tangle, limbs trying to situate themselves between the trio, attempting to come to a comfortable point. Clothes were gone, scattered across the room, thrown and strewn haphazardly between hot kisses and bites, through gropes and caresses- Skin touches skin, already becoming tacky with heat, wet with spit and the warm flush of blushes.

You sit nicely, straddled on Sam's lap, supported by the thick of his thighs, his thick and weighty cock pressing lovingly against the skin of your tummy, dribbly, drooly with sticky pre while his tongue shoves its way down your throat. Sebastian was more than close by, daring to drape himself over your back, his lips nipping and kissing into the groove of your neck, back into that little spot his teeth seemed to favour. Your hands travel up and down Sam’s chest, cupping under the blonde’s jaw, desperately holding on to him as you kiss. Your throat moans little staccato noises into Sam’s mouth, in time with each quick and rhythmic curl of his fingers, squishing into your cunt this time.

You can’t help but hump into him, riding your clit against his palm as those thick, calloused guitar fingers spread you open for- Yoba, the blessing between his legs he called a cock. He had you cupped in his hand, palm twisted upside down while his middle and ring fingers beckon in your cunt, sweet little ‘come to me, come to me’s!’ over and over. His thumb even graces your lower tummy with a few soft caresses, loving and a little scratchy with the roughness of his thumbprint.

“Nawh.” Sebastian tuts a mocking, pitiful noise, smirking into a chuckle against your kiss bitten skin. His hand comes to lay over your tummy, caressing down, down, reaching the leaky tip of Sam’s cock before he wraps his palm around it. Sam himself stifles a whine into your mouth, a slurred attempt at Sebastian’s name, nearly chastising the man. Yoba, it's a good idea, you can’t help but join in, snaking a hand back down Sam’s chest, joining Sebastian in his grip, threading fingers as he pumps away at the blonde’s girthy length. You’re not precise, Yoba no, but God does he feel good in your hand, guided by Sebastian’s rhythm, letting you bump and grind into Sam’s palm with all the focus in the world.

“Sooo cute, Sammy. Hmm?” Sebastian teases, truthfully, you're not sure if he meant you or Sam-

“Mmph- f..fuhck up-” The blonde murmurs into your lips. Well, there's your answer.

Sam doesn't stay mad for long, moaning openly into your mouth, working his fingers into you with gusto despite the milking squeeze of yours and Sebastian’s shared hands wrapped snugly around his length.

“Hahh.. Mean it, both look cute like this.” As if on cue, you both breathe a shared whine- Blood rushes up the length of Sam’s cock with a hearty gush, flexing under the grip of your fingers, just as your cunt dares to flutter a kissing squeeze on the blondes juice soaked knuckles. Sam swears, giving a few mean and quick curls of his fingers, making you cry a few more whimpers on his tongue.

“Hnnmm.. Fuck- Squeezin’ me when he-” He pulls away enough to speak, free hand pressing to the skin of your neck, large, warm palm radiating a sweet heat as he cups under your jaw. He keeps up those mean, jutting curls, his head tilting like a curious puppy, blue eyes soft and doe, brow pitched in concentration as he finger fucks your supple heat. He watches your own eyes roll, breath leaking out from your chest as your head does its best to lull with the sudden spiky pleasure. “Feels good? Hmm??” The man sounds desperate, fishing for praise, almost sounding..

“Jealous, Sammy?” Sebastian pipes up, caressing his lips over your skin with a grin, eyes sharp and dangerous as they watch the blonde. “..’Can both make her feel good, y’know?”

Sebastian’s free hand dips under the swell of your ass, easily finding the squishy wrap of your pussy, snug and suckling on Sam’s fingers. Sam feels you flex and flutter as Sebastian’s fingertip traces gentle, genuinely near tantalizing circles around his knuckles, gracing your gooey cunt hole as he does. You whimper, thighs twitching, hips still letting your clit kiss Sam’s palm in little craning humps, seeking out friction to soothe the ache of your arousal.

“Or are you intimidated? Think I’ll one up you?” Sebastian was certainly one to tease. Both with words and his actions. Those fingers of his threaten to ease into your wetness, grazing against your hole, sticky and creamy from the arousal that Sam had coaxed out of you.

“As. If. You. Could.” Those words spoken by Sam were punctuated with a rough fuck of his fingers, curling to emphasize his point at your expense, making you peep out again.

“Guys- hmmn~..” You honestly nearly begged.

“Nawh..” Sebastian tuts, kissing his teeth with the point of his tongue. “What do you think, Princess?” His voice drops uncharacteristically soft, supple and sweet despite being in the presence of Sam, almost a mock of a coddle. “Wanna have a turn with each of us? Hmm?” That finger ever so carefully pushes past the tight ring of your pussy, “Or d’ya wanna take us both.” He doesn't even frame it as a question.

“Hey wait-” Sam pipes up before his throat cuts him off with a whine, silenced by the flick of Sebastian's wrist, the hand holding on to the girth of the blonde’s cock giving several rough pumps, “F..Fuhck-” his chin juts up with a clumsy swallow, clicky as his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Think he needs some help, huh?” You can hear the grin in Sebastian’s voice, the man leans over your back, sinking his teeth into your neck, his own fingers sliding their way in, against Sam's thick digits. Ohh it's a new feeling, stretched on two sets of fingers moving in their own way, sliding up against one another in the confines of your walls.

“Shit..” Sam pipes up, bewildered with the lack of words on his tongue, feeling Sebastian slide against his knuckles, fighting the urge to intertwine fingers inside of you.

“What's it gonna be?” Sebastian makes it hard to concentrate, the warm ring in your ears blinding out your senses, the hot squelch of your pussy on their fingers being the prevalent topic in your mind.

Yoba, fooling around with the pair separately for the time you had been was a rush- This? You were high on them, on the words and touches from either man, the mingle and twist of them working together all while they bicker and veer off. They were unpredictable, but it was addicting.

“Wanna.. Wanna take us together..?” Sam was breathless, cock being milked by Sebastian's mean hand, your own palm loosely held on for the ride. The blonde looks at you with those puppy-dog-blues, playing the nice one out of the good cop bad cop routine Sebastian had put upon you. You managed to huff an endeared sound, God how could you say no to him?

“Yes- y-yes..” Your free can cradles the Blonde's cheek while your head tilts back to rub against Sebastian's temple.

“Pretty girl wants to take us together? We’re gonna have to stretch you out then, huh?” You hear the snicker in Sebastian's voice and feel the grin of his lips stretch over your skin while his fingers jam their way into your cunt with a newfound vigour. “Why just share you around like a little whore when we can fuck that little cunt at the same time?” Hey give the man credit, he sounded convincing to you, with your brain gone all mush and your pussy kissing a squeeze against both of their knuckles.

The pair finger you open, dirty words and praises dripping off of their tongues while you whimper and keen, humping into Sam’s flat palm, wiggling your hips to meet Sebastian’s finger-fucking. Sam kisses your lips, drooly and sloppy, riddled with his own moans thanks to Sebastian’s multitasking, mewling those noises into your mouth while his cock gets stroked. You’re not sure if Sebastian’s teeth ever even left your neck, teeth-filled kisses sinking up and down the curve of your shoulder.

God, you were messy- Thanks to the wet orgasm Sebastian had pulled out of you just minutes before helping the entangled fingers work together to stretch your supple hole. It's not long before Sebastian makes the first move, popping off of your neck and slowing down his mean fingers, urging you up on your knees while he fists Sam’s cock towards your finger-stuffed cunt.

“Hmmn.. Think you can take Sammy? Start off slow?” The man teases, knowing too well that Sam’s cock was thick, girthy and heavy- Dare to say even bigger than Sebastian himself. You’re sure he knew it, felt it even, right in the palm of his hand. Sam hisses through his teeth, feeling the weepy pudge of his head kiss and slide through the sticky plush of your folds. He slips his fingers from your heat, giving your clit a soothing, even loving rub before his tip replaces them, tapping and grinding on your tender bud with the help of Sebastian.

The blonde was mostly speechless, watching on with bewildered eyes, his brain seeming as if it was still not completely up to date with the current happenings. Oh, but when he slides into the warmth depths of your pussy- Squeezed by your creamy, velvety walls, hugging on his girth, twitching on his veins. Sam’s throat dares to choke a whimper, his lips wrapping into a wordless string of profanities. You look down at him with a blush on your face, a wobble on the edge of your lips, straddled on his lap with his cock tummy deep, pretty chest on display and all.

He can’t help a few rocks of his hips, sweet little humping fucks into your cunt, feeling the kiss of your creamy folds on his base, wettening him up. It doesn’t take long for you to realise the fact that Sebastian’s fingers still lay nestled in your walls, pressed up against the thrumming vein of Sam’s length, even teasing the underside of his tip with the tops of his digits.

“Hmmn.. Sam… S-Seb..” You call for them softly, giving your own experimental wiggle, biting into your bottom lip, neck craning to look at the darker-haired man behind you.

You honestly don’t catch his gaze, sharp eyes all the more focused and interested in the creamy mess on his fingers, the stretch of the soft ring of your cunt. With his hand now free, it goes straight to the plush of your ass, pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look.

“So pretty like this.. How’s it feel? Sitting on a cock in front of another man?” More mean teases. And yet it makes you twitch. “What's one more? Hmm? Heh.” He gives a few mean, quick scissors of his fingers, mocking a moan with your own when your chest ripples with noise. You’re sure you feel Sam twitch with you- But Yoba, you can honestly barely tell.

“F-Fuck.. Seb-” Sam bites into his lip, uttering your name on the end of his tongue, after spewing out the other man’s. His hips squirm a little, chasing the friction of Sebastian's fingers, those digits rubbing and pressing into the swell of the underside of his head, his sensitive glans getting stroked and brushed.

“Nawh, look at him.” Sebastian’s voice is right in your ear, breath tickling your neck. Your elbows twitch, flexing to keep you held up, eyes fluttering at the pulse of arousal in your core. Sebastian’s fingers spread hard, scissoring apart, forcing a matching mewl out of both yours and Sam’s lips.

Oh, you feel it. The blunt, velvet tip of Sebastian's cock, daring to press against your cock-filled hole, by the stretch of his fingers making room in your gushy little thing.

“Fuck- Sebastian.. I- don’t t-think..” You whimper, throwing your head back to look at him, eyes doll and worried, showing off the swirly nervousness happening in your brain. For a moment the man’s eyes soften, dropping to a little look, a quirk to his upper lip and a careful pout to add. The moment is gone as soon as it comes. Sebastian’s tongue lodging itself down your throat, the pudgy tip of his dick making its way into your entrance, his mouth eating up the yelp you cry. One hand balances on Sam’s chest, nails digging into the supple softness, seeking out comfort against the stretch the raven-haired man had to offer up.

Yoba. It's like Heaven and Hell. Feeling so full right up to the brim, tummy bulging with cock, cunt wrapping around two gorgeously thick lengths. The sting is there, achy with the bullying stretch, feeling like you're going to split apart-! But God does the squish of their tips feel so wonderful against the mush of your cervix. Those pulsing girths flexing and drooling against each other, throbby vein to vein, sensitive tips kissing each other inside your wet pussy. You mewl for them, each and every breath you make tainted with your voice, throaty and needy little noises while you tilt and crane your hips.

You pop off of Sebastian’s lips, back arching down, a sweet curve right down the middle of your spine while your head tilts back to let a mewl out.

“Holy Fuck.” What. A. Sight. Pussy on display for Sebastian to see, stretched pretty and stuffed full of cock. Dribbly with slick cream, running down the length of him like a weepy teardrop, mixing with the dark wiry hairs on his base as if your cunt was crying out.

Yoba, he flexes inside of you, urging Sam’s thick and pudgy tip to dribble with a flushing throb of his own. Sebastian nuzzles back into the sanctity of your neck, teeth grazing as his sharp eyes catch a glimpse at the blonde; freckled cheeks all pink, plump lips bitten as he eyes the kiss of your pussy on his base, raking them up to meet the piercing gaze of Sebastian.

“Sh..Shit-” It's all the blonde can manage.

It starts with a hump. You’re not sure who starts moving- Fuck, no one really cares.

The trio moves in tandem; Your palms flat on the mattress dug into the sheets on either side of Sam’s ears, letting your tits bounce in front of him while he spears you down on his length. His large, warm palms rest on your hips, thumbs pushing pressure into the swell of your tummy, against the bump of his and Sebastian’s cocks, feeling their lengths from the outside. Sebastian’s own hands dare to rest on top of Sam’s, crudely intertwined as his hips snap into your ass, making the flesh jiggle with each grinding hump. His movements are unlike Sam’s rougher, harder, quicker- breaking up the pattern the blonde sets for you, keeping you on your toes, forcing out breathy surprised whines and mewls, pretty little juts of your voice each time he hits a new spot.

You were tight- so, so tight for them, thanks to the thick of each man’s cock. Your skin burnt with hot pleasure, taking over any ounce of staging pain you may have felt from the thick stretch, it was like your blood was on fire. It was like a high, a thick wave of desire blanketing over you, making your hips rock and squirm, fucking into Sam’s lap, grinding back on Sebastian’s cock, squelchy and slick, drooly, drooly mess.

“Ughh take that- Fuhck, take those cocks- That's it. Ohh You’re such a slut for cock aren’t you?” Sebastian breathes, growly and behind his teeth, grit tight. You can barely speak, humming an airy “Mmhm~” as your answer.

“Love takin’ our cocks yeah? Pretty Pussy’s jus’ suckin’ us in!” Sam joins in on the word fun, fingers tight on your hips, manhandling you down, watching that pudgy bulge in your tummy greet him with each hump of his hips.

Sebastian growls another laugh. You feel his hand flatten on your upper back, fingers hooking around the back of your neck with a squeeze before he pushes you down.

This was a new angle. Good for him to fuck, face down and ass up, cunt fully on show now, the poor ring of your hole surely stingy and bruised. You cry out, a whiny choking hiccup, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Be.. Nice t’herrr-” Sam was there to comfort. He wraps his arms around you, locking behind your back, shoving his way between you and Sebastian, squishing you close to his chest as he lays back, draping your body over his front. Your tits squish into his chest, head moving to nuzzle into the safe, warm crook of his neck, inhaling the smell of some kind of classic men’s body spray- boyish and cute, making you sigh from your lips, hips wiggling in his lap. Sam plants his feet nice and firm on the mattress for leverage, using the bouncy thing to fuck up into you with a lot more ease.

“She likes it- hahh.. Dontcha?” The Raven haired man hums out a moan of his own, snarky, sharp eyes squinting at Sam. “I can be nice,” he assures, weaseling his hand between the soft of Sam’s lower tummy, over the sticky little thing between your legs, that bud of a clit all for him to rub and caress. You mewl into Sam’s ear, spitty and wet as your lips part, ending the pitiful little noise with a pleading pepper of kisses to his jaw. One of his hands slides up your back, tangling into your hair, petting as best he could considering he was positioning his hips into the depths of your weepy cunt.

Sebastian lets up, slowing down his movements to a more.. Tender grind of his hips. He leans down, draping himself over your back, chest sweaty, skin all tacky.

“Nice enough?” He smirks at Sam, planting a lingering kiss to your hair, even managing to connect with Sam’s hand. The Blonde’s hips slow as well, coming into a rolling push, pressing himself deeper, deeper, deeper- Tip poking into your cervix. The walls of your cunt squelch on them, all juicy-wet from their mean and fast fucks, slippery with slick, your own essence used as lube.

Noises tumble from lips, soft groans, huffed and choked up at the back of the throat, deep and guttural with each push and pull. One cock presses in, the other pulls out. Rubbing, frotting inside the squeeze of your pussy, tip to tip, weepy and drooly making a mess over themselves and painting your cunt with their own beads of pearlescent slick. You sigh so sweet, all nuzzles into Sam’s neck, grinding back the best you can on both of their dicks.

Sam’s paw of a hand captures Sebastian’s jaw, cradling him from the kisses he gives your hair, swallowing down his saliva with a thick gulp. The plush of Sebastian’s cock was getting to him, feeling so sweet as it rubs up on him, pulsing veins, sensitive undersides gliding against each other.

“Jealous, Sammy?” Those sharp eyes glint at him, hips rolling hard with purpose, Sebastian’s hand still working hard at your clit. Sam’s cock gives a hearty pulse at his quip, forcing another whine out of each of you.

The blonde doesn’t even respond, opting to pull Sebastian by the jaw, fingers squishing the man's cheeks, pursing his lips into a pucker before Sam laps his tongue into the other man’s mouth. Yoba, This was something. Now, not something unfamiliar to the men, oh ho no- but the sight of them, the slick and popping sounds of their lips kissing and suckling against each other had your cunt squeezing, drooling more sweet cream for them, hips craning to meet their movement. Their own fucks never falter, heck, they grind harder, breathing into each other's lips with a smack, pulling apart for barely a moan before the other shoves his tongue down and the cycle runs again.

This was intense- More than quick fucks and feverish bucking, slower, harder, dicks kissing your core, tummy full and swollen with their lengths, skin warm with the press of either man, Sebastian’s hand circling your clit in tandem with their passionate fucks.

“Hmmph Fuckk~ so good..” Sam whines, keeping his grip on Sebastian tight. His other hand comes up your back, tickling at the edge of your hairline, his own affections while he slobbers on the other’s tongue. You don’t help at all, lips suckling bruises into Sam’s neck, kisses and licks up to his ear where you mewl and praise. The dark haired man lets out a nasty groan, sinking his teeth into Sam’s tongue, lapping and licking up his saliva, hips rolling against your ass, drilling his dick in your wetness.

“Shit-” Sebastian slurs on Sam’s tongue, hips stuttering, hand still flat and mean pressing on your back. Sam hums an affirmative noise, a sweet “Mhmm!” in agreeance, feeling that build in his gut.

“I- ahh.. Hahh. m’gonna cum~ gonna make m-me-!” You’re the first to announce it, pussy clenching in anticipation.

Just hearing those words had Sam blowing ropey spurts into your cunt, dick flexing every time he blew another pool of salty-sticky nut into your guts. He mewls sweetly, pulse, pulse, pulse against your walls, flexing on Sebastian’s dick, muffled, tongue blabbering sounds clumsily called into the other man’s lips. His hand tightens in your hair, twirled and twisted, pushing you over the edge with the sweet sting- and with the help of his sweet, sweet orgasm.

You squeak your own noise, waily and hiccuped in Sam’s neck, hips wiggling against his pulsy dick, grinding into Sebastian’s fingers, chasing that sweet climax. You twitch and squirm when you cream on their cocks, adding to the wonderful mess between your legs, squeezing on their length, cunt kisses flexing with each pulse. Your toes curl and fidget, sweet cries of each of their names tumbling off of your lips; “Sammyyy~ Seb- Seb, please-!” Grinding back on him, desperately wanting to get the man off too.

Of course, it works.

A hot flex of his orgasm, popping off of Sam’s lips with a long, drawn-out groan, nosing into the tacky, sweaty skin of your neck, mouthy kisses back on your shoulder, just adding to the bitey kiss marks he’d left on you already. He spurts his own creamy mess, filling up your cunt to the absolute brim, coating your insides, sticky over Sam’s twitchy head, painted nice and white with his cum.

It's all swears and profanity, twitchy grinds, hiccuped breaths each time an extra sensitive spot is touched. God, do they separate? Absolutely not. Rather, hot and wet kisses over skin, praises and squishes, coming down from the intensities, bewildered eyes with huffy half laughs. A clicky swallow here, a soft ask of “You okay..?” directed at Yoba knows who, mean persona’s dropped off. A talk was surely in order. But not right now. Let’s just.. Lay here a while.

→ Kinktober Masterlist & Taglist ←

A rare extra long fic from Risa <3

Thank you so much for reading! If you have any thoughts please let me know! I'd love to hear them <3 your words spur my heart on!

Property of : SashiAvi

TagList

@deepestnightcolor @madsw9 @the-massive-simp @neetily @wrongdodo @modern-gremlin @blakebearsblog @skelitea @saoirse06 @yumelurve @kiwibyssongg @scrunkle-writings @regalchick33 @sydbeenis @kasasim @cheerupbabie @shinypainterturtle @callinz @jellyfishlord123 @b-lossm @tetatitanica @princesstiti14 @cherryminxx @kyrothehornypuppy @animeandobeymefandom @thecr0w @toorusproblems @joviaschaoticmind @quiurifam @sturniolopowers @hon3yydew @ghost--heart @booitzbellie @skullkroncher @maryenette @asssholeuwu @cowboyweevil @heylisin @its-starlight-farm @cheezydoritos69 @sephreads0 @hitatwiin @avocado-sloth-blog

763 notes · View notes

lesbikaiser · 4 months ago

Text

freak in you – s. ryusei.

wc: 4k.

cw: size, breeding and mirror kink, a tiny winy little bit of thigh riding, belly bulge, fingering, lots of spit and an abnormal amount of cum (yours and his!), squirting, dirty talk, subspace mention, literally one clit slap, reverse cowgirl → (semi) full nelson → honestly idek what position it's but he's using your body like his personal fleshlight!! reader has a pussy but no pronouns were defined ^-^ shidou is nasty, a pervy and a meanie! you get cockdrunk at some point so dumbfication!!! also dacryphilia! reader gets called small a lot so beware!

a/n: this is straight up pure smut, no plot, just filthiness!

also i always try to make reader as neutral as possible in every feature so anyone can fit in my writings but for this especially reader is shorter than shidou – nothing impossible though since he's 6'1" tall and all but anyway! other than that, there's no specifications for skin/hair/eye colors, weight or anything! hope everyone is comfortable with what i write!

the atmosphere in your bedroom is suffocating as ryusei devours your lips, you feel his hands everywhere on your body at once and they make you feel so, so hot, your panties are soaked and practically glued to your core with how wet you're, and you know shidou can feel it too when he whistles, his muscular thigh meeting your clothed cunt.

"mmh, you're dripping all over my pants, sweets." the smirk stretching his lips is audible through his tone, fingers sinking on your hips and bringing you closer to him, you can't hold back the moan bubbling up your throat at the delicious friction his muscles give your sore clit. "is it all f'me?"

"shidou..." you only get to whimper, long lost in the trance he's put you in, it's like you're intoxicated as soon as his lips touch your skin, your mind unable to formulate thoughts about anything but him and his hot kisses trailing your neck, sharp teeth nibbling on your flesh.

"that's my name, pretty." he sings, wet tongue coming out to lick a fat stripe up your collarbone, it's all too much to your poor little head – and pussy. everything is foggy, you can only focus on your boyfriend before you, legs spreading wider to give him more room between them. your hips move on their own, grinding against shidou's thighs and oh, he loves it so much, how desperate you get for him everytime he kisses you on the right spots, the shy whimpers in that sweet voice of yours are music to his ears, he wants to consume every single part of you, fill your brain with him and only him – as if he needed to.

his lips leave burning spots on your skin when he pulls away, knee pressing further onto your drooling cunt as his large hands grab your sides, a squeal erupting from your throat and your fingers grip shidou's shirt, watery eyes staring at his devious ones.

"quit teasing, ryu." his antics bring a pout to your swollen lips, he can't help but snicker at your cute face – makes him want to totally rail you.

"no need to say twice, darling." and suddenly he's pushing you against the mattress, fingers hooking on the sides of your panties and sliding them down your legs and into his pocket – but not before sniffing them heavily. oh, he's such a pervert.

his digits plunge into your pleading hole without any time for you to get used to it, you can only moan in response at the way they stretch you out, your thighs lock around his wrists, earning a smirk from him before he pries them open, watching the way your greedy cunt swallow his thick digits.

"ryu–! ryu!" his name feels like a mantra on your tongue, he's just fingering and prepping you but it already feels so deep, his skilled fingers have no trouble in finding that spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your hips bucking up, the way he's thumbing at your little clit, rough pad adding to your pleasure as you slowly fall apart before him.

"gonna cum already, honey bun?" his teasing tone goes straight to your core, you try and whine in retaliation but shidou knows you love it, your cunt getting impossibly wetter tells him you do. the squelching sounds of his fingers dragging against your sensitive walls are quite embarrassing – for you, at least. because your boyfriend thinks it's one of the hottest things his ears have ever been graced to hear, your cute, desperate pussy so wet for him it literally soaks his palm.

his face comes down to your breasts level, his hot tongue poking at one of your perky nipples before placing the wet muscle flat on it, lips wrapping around your soft flesh and sucking the hard bud into his mouth, the squeal you let out at the extra stimulation is so adorable he feels his dick nearly exploding.

when he pulls away from your mound, there's a string of saliva connecting his lips to your slick nub – so sensitive that the mere breeze of his breath against it makes your body twitch and a whimper escapes you. your skin burns under the boy's tongue licking up your collarbone, neck and jaw before reaching your cheek, leaving a trail of spit all over you, it feels nasty – and it makes your head spin.

you can barely process your surroundings, all the thoughts that aren't related to your boyfriend vanishing from your mind like steam, you can only think about how good his fingers make you feel, how they fill you up so well and reaches all those spots inside you that your smaller hands can't, it's like your whole body is on fire, toes curling on the mattress and thighs quivering, threatening to close but the tall man hovering over you won't let them. the coil in your stomach only tightens and tightens, you know it's about to snap at any time now, and if you do, shidou does too – you can tell by the way his thrusts speed up, fucking his fingers into your fluttering hole at an inhumane pace – because of course, that's what he's; a demon luring you into his sweet temptation.

his hand grabs your face harshly, smushing your cheeks together to force your lips into a pout, your eyes opening as you stare at him with tears pooling on them, wetting your lashes and he swears he could cum untouched, right then and there, just by watching your face twisting in such hot expressions.

his tongue itches to be inside your mouth, tasting and consuming you entirely, claiming your body and soul as his – again, as if he needed to. his lips are on yours in a blink of an eye, sharing a bruising kiss and you can only moan when his teeth tug at your bottom lip, urging you to part them open and let him explore the depths of your mouth, his tongue licking against yours makes it so messy and dirty, spit running down your chin and leaking from the corner of your lips.

at this point your brain has already turned into mush, you're drunk and dumb on the pleasure he's giving you, unable to even kiss him back, all you can do is mewl loudly against his lips. your senses are filled with shidou ryusei and only him, you don't realize when you raise your leg up and your foot presses down on his growing bulge, earning a whimper from the man above you.

"heh, playing dirty now aren't we, sweets?" he mumbles, lips swollen and shiny brushing against yours as he speaks, tone giving away how much he yearns for you.

your desperation is so palpable he can taste it, your nails scratch his biceps to try and ground yourself when his wrist touches your denied clit along with his fingers pinching your nipple, shock waves running through your whole body making it tremble, your back arching off the bed when it gets too much for you to handle, the tight knot in your stomach loosening up and you cum so hard your vision goes white for a moment, eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

“that's it, make a mess for me.” his voice affects you like some kind of spell, your cunt gushing out more and more of your cum onto his palm, the bedsheets already soaked with your fluids only getting wetter and wetter as shidou keeps fucking his fingers into your hole, helping you to ride out your orgasm. “you're so fucking hot.”

the praise rolls off his tongue smoothly, going straight to your core and making you desperate for more of him, a whine ripping your throat at the sudden emptiness when he pulls his fingers out, you have no time to calm down from your high before your walls clench and beg for more, your brain not even considering that you might just break when it tells your lips to move and speak up, words leaving you so naturally.

"m–more, ryu…” your voice comes out strangled and laced with desperation, shidou's lips stretching in a wide smirk as his tongue darts out to lick them, contemplating the state you find yourself in – cheeks stained by dried tears, lips slightly parted as you try and catch your breath, eyes staring at him so sparklingly and so needy, pupils blown out and gaze overflowing with lust when yet again your foot presses down on his bulge. "wan' feel you inside."

oh, who's he to deny such a request? in one swift motion he's pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, you can feel your mouth watering at the sight of his huge cock standing tall and proud, leaky tip looking so inviting and seeming to be calling and telling you to wrap your lips around it.

you lift your upper body off the bed, supporting on your elbows as your eyes literally ogle over your boyfriend's dick, cunt drooling and clenching around nothing feeling so empty, craving to be filled to the brim with his gooey cum.

shidou is pleased by your reactions, staring at him so dumbly and without a single thought in your head, just him and his stupidly huge cock that could easily rip you open – and it seems to be exactly what you want.

so that's what he does, hands holding your waist and hoisting you up so easily it reminds you of how bigger than you he's, how he could overpower you without any fight and literally manhandle you – just like he's doing now. in an blink of an eye he's seated down on the mattress, facing your back as you're on top of him, your fluttering pussy hovering over his sensitive tip as both of your eyes set on the mirror in front of you.

you take a few seconds to look at yourself, your skin is covered up in hickeys from your neck to your breasts – a beautiful work of art in ryusei’s opinion; lips swollen and eyes puffy from the previous tears, your hair a little disheveled and inner thighs shining with your arousal. then you move to check your boyfriend and you swear you almost cum just from the sight, his own thighs apart in a manspreading as he supports his weight with one hand on the bed, wide chest in full display – you don't even know when he took his shirt off – and that intoxicating gaze in his eyes staring directly at you, his huge frame making you look even smaller compared to him.

with shaky hands, you reach for his knees to steady yourself, eyes catching through the mirror the exact moment when shidou holds your waist with one of his hands, the other lining his dick with your entrance and you bite down on your lip in anticipation, his words giving away how eager he's.

“c’mon, hurry up and sit.” he lowers your body onto him, both of you hissing at the contact of his leaky, fat tip with your slippery cunt, even after all his preparation and the ridiculous amount of lubrication dripping down your thighs, your hole still flutters and clenches around him trying to accommodate his sheer size and you need a few seconds to get used to the stretch, you can't help the few tears pricking the corner of your eyes at how good it feels to be filled up, that familiar sensation of fullness hitting you and you're ready to start moving but then there's more.

you look down to where you two are connected, only to be met with a few inches of your boyfriend's dick still out, your pussy all stretched around him and yet there's more to go in. it can't be true, your eyes must be betraying you because you can't believe it, of course you've had him all the way in and of course you knew how massive he's but you've never tried this position – and it's ridiculous how impossibly deeper he can reach in it. your hands fly to grab his, holding onto them as you try to stop him from sinking you further down.

“w–wait, ryu.” your eyes meet through the mirror, there's clearly a scoff on his face as he stares at you with one raised brow, you can feel the way his cock is pulsating against your walls and how much he's holding back to not just fuck you dumb already. your next remark blooms a proud smirk on his lips. “you're too big! ‘s not gonna fit…”

“‘course i am, pretty. gonna make it fit and y’gonna take it like you always do, yeah?” he teases, guiding your hips to meet his pelvis and literally splitting you open on his cock, you scratch at his forearms, wiggle your ass trying to escape from his vice grip on your waist, whine for him to wait and that “‘s too much, can't take it!” and squirm restlessly on his lap but none of these seem to stop him. he sinks you further and further down, your walls squeezing impossibly tighter around his shaft and making it no easy for him. “shit, loosen up a little f’me baby.”

you can't even make out his words, it's like you're being torn apart by his dick but god, it's amazing, the feeling too overwhelming for you to understand anything. it feels like he's in your ribs when he finally bottoms out, it feels hard to breath, a sigh making its way through his lips as he gives you an experimental thrust, watching how you'll react – but you're too light headed to complain, getting only to whine his name, head thrown on his shoulder.

his eyes trails down your limp body through the mirror, catching a glimpse of what seems to be a bulge on your belly. his fat tip rests against your cervix, you can feel the way his cock twitches and can't understand why until his fingers apply some pressure on your tummy, you whimper and immediately look down to where he's pressing, only to be met with the skin of your stomach slightly distended trying to accommodate your boyfriend's girth, and you feel dizzy.

“ehe, pussy so tiny it can barely take my dick.” he growls in your ear when your cunt starts clenching uncontrollably around him, but you can't help it. it's how he said, his cock is so huge that your pussy can't take all of it without a bulge forming on your stomach, your mind is all fogged up and you don't stop your hips from lifting before letting them down, starting to ride him lazily.

a proud, wide smirk appears on shidou's lips as he watches you struggling to move on his dick, your hands holding onto his knees to balance yourself, your arousal all over his strong thighs with how you're humping him. and you're being so damn loud, desperate moans overflowing your mouth because surprisingly it's not enough. not his dick – no, you've never felt so full in your life, but you can't seem to do it right, trying desperately to make him hit the right spot inside you.

shidou, however, is delighted, eyes fixed on how your pussy swallows him whole, your fluids forming a white ring around his base and soaking his balls, your frustrated cries reaching his ears and you sound so cute, he can't end it just now.

it doesn't take too much for you to grow tired, thighs giving out from trying and pleasure yourself, your body laying back and resting on ryusei's chest as you start to hump him pathetically, gaze finding his on the mirror and you mewl for his help, clenching your walls around his pulsating shaft and trying to convince him to fuck you.

and you look so vulnerable like this, grinding against his crotch like a bitch in heat and whining his name so helplessly, he's going crazy – feral, insane. with a sudden urgency, he's hooking his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up to your chest and exposing your stuffed pussy, his fingers gripping tightly on your thighs as he literally ogles your abused hole spamming around his length – the bulge on your tummy even more notorious now.

"woah, what a privileged view we've got here, don't y’think, sweets?" he whistles, bouncing your body experimentally on his cock and almost losing his mind with how easy he can move you, using your pussy like his personal fleshlight.

"shi– shidou–!” you yelp at his actions, feeling too ashamed to look at his face, the way he's holding you up against him with your legs wide open, cunt on full display for his hungry eyes, mirror reflecting the way his dick stretches you so well, your toes curl in the air as you paw at his hands – that's not what you meant when you asked for his help. "w–wait, ryu, this is embarrassing–!”

he doesn't listen to you – he never does. ignoring the way your nails scratch his skin, he starts bouncing you more fervorously, lifting your little frame off his cock – only the tip in – before slamming you down again, then repeating again and again and again. he's acting like an animal already, panting and grunting at your gummy, warm and tight walls rubbing against him so well, it's like you're trying to milk him with how much you're clenching, high-pitched moans spilling from your lips along with a few whimpers whenever his tip hits either your cervix or that sweet spot inside you that has you seeing stars – the spot that only his massive dick can reach.

there's not a single thought on your head aside from how well shidou is fucking you, using your body as he pleases like you're a ragdoll, made with the only intention of pleasuring him, your tongue lolling out of your mouth as your eyes are trained on the mirror – more specifically, on the dick going in and out of your hole in a inhumane pace.

oh, and shidou thinks you look so sexy like that. your face contorting in pleasure, spit dripping from your loosen tongue and eyes clouded with lust, you're unable to even formulate a phrase, only incoherent whimpers coming from your lips – completely drunk and dumb on his cock. “look at you, fucked dumb on my dick already, letting me use you as my cocksleeve, so small and so nasty.”

your nails dig into his biceps’ flesh, using them as some kind of leverage as he literally rails your pussy, you feel like you're about to melt under his touch with the way his tip hits your sweet spot over and over and over again, lazy eyes watching how the bulge on your tummy disappears before reappearing whenever he sinks you down.

it feels so good, to be manhandled, overpowered, left helpless with the only option of taking it, you're on the verge of tears and your throat is sore from moaning so loud but you can't help it when wave after wave of pleasure runs through your veins, the feeling is so overwhelming yet so amazing, you feel so damn full yet you don't want shidou to ever pull out, walls clamping down on his length furiously like your pussy is trying to get every single drop of him – and it's.

he growls and moans at the feeling, a smirk reaching his lips as even dirtier thoughts crowd his mind. he wants to make a mess of you, fill you up with his cum and spurt his seed so deep in your womb to claim you as his, marking you in every possible way as a sign that you belong to him, and your cunt belongs to where it rightfully is – being pounded by his cock.

“a–ha, such a dirty little thing, aren't you? so fuckin’ tight sweets, gonna make me cum so hard.” he's licking at your tears, biting your earlobe and whispering such nasty things against it, he seems to be on a mission of making you lose your mind – and he knows that he already succeed on it. “gonna fill you up so good, make you cum all over my cock, y’want that don't you?”

it's insane. the way he's pushing your knees together, one arm looping under them to hold you against his chest and he's holding you with just one arm, his free hand sneaking between your thighs to rub harsh circles on your neglected clit – and you nearly explode. “so good, so good, it's so good!” is all you can think, he's thrusting his hips up to meet yours and bouncing your body up and down, you can feel the way his dick is pulsating and how every single vein on it rubs so deliciously against your gummy walls, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your nub so fervently and it's all too much.

the knot inside you snaps and your toes curl in the air, your head thrown back on your boyfriend's shoulder when you cum on his dick, a long moan leaving your lips and your mind is blank, unable to process anything but the way your orgasm hits you.

“that's it baby, cum all you want, y're so hot.” you barely understand what he's saying, still lost in cloud nine due to your climax, slowly riding it out as you calm down, but shidou doesn't falter on his moves, hips still slamming into your ass and thumb still rubbing your clit – though it's a more feather touch this time. you whine and writhe in his grip, slurred cries about it being too much but he's not listening, he never is. “keep crying pretty thing, my dick’s gonna explode.”

he's a freak, you feel your whole body on fire as he continues to bounce you on his cock, the squelching sounds so louder now you've came, your body going up and down easier and you're so sensitive, even the tiniest thing is enough to make you snap yet once more – in this case, shidou's palm giving your clit a light slap. your eyes roll back to your skull behind your eyelids, your sore throat unable to make any sound but a high-pitched cry, legs shaking uncontrollably and your ears going deaf for a second when you squirt.

your cum drenches everything – shidou's arms, his thighs, your thighs, the sheets, even the mirror gets dirty with a few drops, you're truly making a mess, and ryusei loves it so much, he's brought over the edge as well, thick, hot ropes of cum spurting in your core.

he moans in your ear like a whore, dick throbbing and twitching as he blows his load inside you, it's so much it nearly bloats your stomach, some of it leaking from your hole as he keeps moving you up and down.

“y–eah, so damn hot sweets, gon’ knock you up, breed this pussy real good ‘till i’m satisfied.” he knows you're not listening, watching through the mirror how your body writhes in his arms as you try to ride out your orgasm, it's so intense and the way his hot cum is filling you up doesn't help at all, you feel so overstimulated that you can't even open your eyes, seeming to be on the verge of passing out, lips dumbly murmuring your boyfriend's name.

"uh uh, don't sleep on me now, pretty face, we're not done yet." when he finally pulls out, it's a true mess. his sticky cum is flooding from your cunt, dripping down your thighs and onto his along with your own fluids, it's the hottest thing he's ever seen and he takes a few seconds to fully admire it, before laying back on the mattress with you on top. he lines his dick with your entrance yet again, teasing voice breaking your subspace walls as he thrusts up, shoving all of his size in you with one swift motion. "gotta breed this pussy a few more times to make sure you're nice and full.”

#blue lock smut #bllk smut #shidou ryusei smut #shidou smut #ㅤ𔘓 – my works...!

768 notes · View notes

sp0o0kylights · 4 months ago

Text

Eyes wide, body frigid in terror, Eddie felt the sheer horror of the current situation sank in.

He was at Gen Con.

In their hotel.

With zero vacant rooms and one minor, Henderson created, screw up.

The room only had one bed in it.

“It’s fine, we can share.” Steve said, brushing past.

Like this was not the life ending, earth shattering, soul rendering issue that it was.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Eddie croaked trying to remember how a normal person acted instead of someone whose stomach had just fallen out of their ass.

“Nah, I did this all the time with the basketball team.” Steve said as Eddie actively regretted every single decision that had led to this point in his life.

“Hell this is even a king sized bed. We have plenty of space!”

Steve did a goofy little spin jump, landing butt first on the bed and bouncing on it with glee.

“Space, sure.” Eddie echoed.

Hands shaking, eyes determinedly focused on anything but the ex-jock, Eddie found himself chanting a mantra over and over in his head.

One that would valiantly get him through the next weekend, God and D20's willing.

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

“I don’t have cooties, if that's what you're worried about.”” Steve waggled his eyebrows. "Here, I’ll even let you have one of my pillows.”

Said pillow was flung through the air, to smack Eddie dead in the face.

'Fuck it." Eddie thought wildly. "I am NOT fine!'

And after Eddie got his hands on him, Dustin Henderson wouldn't be either.

xXx

“I am going to kill you.” Eddie snarled, the very second he could get Dustin alone.

“No you won’t, you love me too much.” Henderson dismissed, a smug little smirk in place.

The absolute brat.

“I do not, and if I did, I would take it back after this.” Eddie glanced around once again, beyond paranoid about discussing this in the open parking lot of a shitty hotel, but knowing he needed to get this under control, now.

“What were you thinking!?”

“That I read a really interesting zine about this exact scenario, mostly.” Dustin shrugged. “Worked out great for them, I thought I’d try it for you!”

Eddie groaned, head flying back as he fisted both hands in his hair.

(if only to prevent himself from wrapping both hands around Dustin’s stupid throat.)

“What did I tell you? This isn’t something you fuck with man!”

“I know, but as I told you, Steve is perfect!” Dustin protested, and didn’t even have the decency to flinch when Eddie lost control and grabbed him by the collar.

“Perfect!?” He sputtered, actually sputtered, shaking the fist that held Dustin's shirt captive. “Perfect!?”

“Trust me on this--you have a crush on him, he desperately needs someone in his life--seriously, Eddie, it’s sad how he acts when he’s not dating--and you guys get along great now! What’s the problem!?”

“He’s straight!” Eddie shrieked, startling several onlookers.

“Laced!” He added immediately after, in panicked afterthought. “He’s so straight laced we could never get him to agree to that plan!”

Dustin leveled an unimpressed look at him.

“Dude, really?”

“We are still in Indiana, Henderson.” Eddie said, then got close enough that he felt comfortable hissing the next part through clenched teeth.

“They don’t exactly care for the queers here, even at a place like this.”

“Are you sure? Because the Con’s welcome packet has a few different panels that--”

Eddie scrubbed a hand over his face, letting go of his idiot, freshman friend's shirt to grab at his hair again.

“Henderson, for once,” He pleaded, and maybe it was the sheer desperation in his tone or how upset he looked but either way Dustin seemed to finally realize how serious he was.

“just once, I need you to listen to me. You cannot let Steve know I’m gay. This is something that has to stay between us, especially now I’m sharing a bed with him.”

Which Dustin knew, because Dustin was the one who’d called and changed the room.

“But Steve’s--”

“Most likely bisexual, I heard you the first several times you said it, but you can’t just--assume that about someone!” Eddie was well and good on a rant now, two seconds away from pacing about. “Even if you’ve been to a salon with them!”

He pointed firmly at Dustin’s stupid face (and the kid's equally stupid mouth) before he could once again insist Steve was into men purely based on how anal he was about his hair.

“Steve might be cool with--other people,” Eddie was unsure of who knew what about Robin, and was not about to hand Dustin another secret given how he was acting about this one, “but that does not mean he will be cool with me--or you, pimping him out, to me!”

“I’m not pimping him out!” Offended, Dustin patted at his shirt where Eddie had previously been holding it. “Look I’m sorry, but--”

Eddie groaned, loud and dramatic.

“But,” Dustin doubled down, “You trusted me with the whole, you know.” He waved his hands in some sort of vague, unreadable gesture. “Can’t you trust me about this?”

“I didn’t trust you with that, you barged into my room and then dug around my closet insisting your character notes got mixed in with mine when I was hi-sleeping!--and then read something personal!”

The snort he got in return let him know Dustin was well aware he’d been high as hell, but that was neither here nor there, given what had happened after.

When Dustin, rifling through Eddie’s closet, came across one of Eddie’s private notebooks.

The ones that contained equally private stories, penned by Eddie's hand.

One of which might have had characters--who did not sound like Steve, thank you,-- and definitely not paired with a character based on Eddie himself.

(“So Sir Sylvan Harrachtáin and Edwin Morningson are random names you pulled out of your ass, huh?”

“Shut up.”

“Sir Sylvan with his great hair and--what’s this? A horse named…Beamer?”

“Henderson so help me--” )

It may have led to the two of them growing closer instead of Eddie getting chased out of town with pitchforks, but that hadn’t stopped the sheer panic it had caused when he realized just what it was Dustin was reading.

“Potato, tomato.” The little shit dismissed, and Eddie felt the urge to strangle him return in full force. “Look I get it--I promised I wouldn’t tell and I keep my promises. But since there aren’t any other rooms in our inn…”

Eddie looked at the sky, because if he saw the little dipshit wiggle his eyebrows in relation to himself and Steve Harrington, his new friend, who baked cookies with Jeff and once helped Grant jump his car, Eddie was going to lose his mind.

Loudly, and with much fanfare.

“You owe me. Big time.” He declared to the clouds.

He pretended not to hear the sigh that got him, either.

“If you so say. Now can we go to the convention?" A whine crept into Henderson's voice. "Steve’s going to think we’re fighting.”

"Fine.” Eddie finally lowered his head to glare Dustin dead in the eyes.

“But to make my ire clear, Henderson? That magic sword your dwarf just acquired is gone. Disappeared. Vanished like a puff of smoke."

He made a ‘proof’ noise, hands spreading out as he did it.

Dustin’s jaw dropped.

“What!? Eddie--”

“Nope.

“Edd-iieeeee--”

“I’m not listening.” He plunged both fingers in his ears, walking determinedly towards one of the other three hotel rooms Hellfire had crammed themselves in.

Wished desperately that he could manage to swap beds with Jeff, or Grant, or someone without making Steve feel like shit--which it would, because Eddie knew things like that about Steve now.

Behind him Dustin rampaged, which at least, made Eddie a little happier.

xXx

“We can switch rooms.”

“What?” Eddie asked, startled out of his present thoughts (and the giant pile of D&D related papers spread in a circle around him.)

He turned to look up at Steve, who was hovering awkwardly behind him.

“You’ve been weird ever since you realized we’re sharing a bed. If it’s making you that uncomfortable we can just switch.” He shrugged, like saying that didn’t hurt him, even as the kicked puppy look holding court on his face very much screamed ‘emotional damage.’

"I have not!” Eddie twisted himself around immediately. "I am perfectly fine, thank you!"

Steve frowned down at him.

“Eddie, this is the longest conversation I’ve had with you since we got here." Steve deadpanned. "I’d blame that on the whole, you know, nerd herd gathering, but it’s pretty clear that’s not it. I watched you literally turn around and walk the other way when you spotted me earlier."

Shit.

"It's kinda obvious you're avoiding me."

Shit, shit, shit!

“I'm not, promise!" Eddie lied. "I’m just--distracted. There’s just so much happening and it’s--a lot.”

He said it like the con was overwhelming, and not chaos he was positively thriving in.

Steve searched his face.

“Alright," He said doubtfully, "but I mean it. Say the word and we can switch. I'm sure Jeff'll let me share a blanket or something."

Which was the last thing anybody needed, on grounds that Jeff would try and fix things.

(Jeff, bless him, had never been good at fixing things.)

Drumming up every acting skill he possessed, Eddie flashed two thumbs up in response, painting a fat grin on his face.

“We're all good Stevie. Besides, I’m going to be up late at so many panels, you won’t even notice me coming back. You're practically gonna have the room to yourself!"

Because that was exactly what he was planning on doing, the second he realized the convention itself could provide a nice, neat little way out in the form of two different late night panels.

Who needed sleep anyway? Not him!

"Okay." Steve said, somewhat mollified.

Crisis averted, Eddie dove back into his plans, distracting himself as best he could while trying to ignore that Steve had dropped onto the bed.

(One of those plans might have involved revenge on Henderson, and that one he gave special attention to.)

xXx

There were no late nigh panels.

“Not until tomorrow, my friend!” The jovial guy dressed in what Eddie was pretty sure was supposed to be a wizard costume told him. “We had a few but the folks running them got stuck in traffic, so we had to cancel."

He beamed, like he hadn’t just disintegrated Eddie's one and only escape plan.

"Besides, if you go to sleep now you can catch some of the early morning panels!”

As if he hadn't planned on rolling into them anyway, lack of sleep be damned.

“Can we go back now?” Gareth grumped to his right, the only person who’d agreed to stay out all night with him (and who was not a 14 year old who’d been overruled by Harrington.)

"We could go find a room party?" Eddie hedged instead, as they made their retreat.

"Dude."

"Fine," He muttered, defeated. "We can go back."

To Steve.

And the single bed.

In his head, he plotted out Henderson's death.

Maybe he'd use fire.

Or sticks, or even a fricken--toy horse, or something...

xXx

He'd done it.

Changed into the oversized shirt he called sleep clothes, and crawled into bed like a completely normal, totally straight human being.

Had even done a remarkable job of laying perfectly still. Exactly how a normal, not panicking person slept!

'I'm fine, this is fine, everything's fine...'

Steve was laying next to him.

He had to of course, that's how a bed worked, and yet somehow, Eddie couldn't get past it.

Or the fact that the dick wasn't wearing a shirt to bed.

His thoughts chased each other in nervous little circles, anxiety gnawing on his gut like a favored bone as Eddie did his best not to move one single inch.

Pity that the thing about attending a large convention, was the sheer amount of walking, talking, and expending general energy one had to do.

Entirely against his will, Eddie fell asleep.

He had been planning on laying awake in frigid terror all night, to prevent any possible way Steve might clock him, but his body had other plans.

Some of which involved sleeping like Eddie normally slept--arms hugging a pillow, head buried in it's soft, comfortable, kinda ticklish surface.

He rubbed his nose further into it as the tickling sensation increased, pulling him away from the sleep he hadn't realized he'd fallen into.

Grumbling, Eddie went to adjust his stupid pillow when he had the weirdest realization that it too, was moving.

Pillows, his sleep addled brain informed him, did not move.

Steve would, though.

"Fuck!" He screeched, flying up into a sitting position as he registered that he'd gone full octopus--cuddling Steve with all four limbs.

Steve flew awake, his own body flying up into a sitting position.

His mouth started moving a mile a minute, and it took Eddie a second to parse that Steve was still partially asleep as he let out a string of absolute nonsense about code reds and being upside down.

"Whoa!" Eddie said when the guy nearly fell out of bed. "Shit Steve, it's just me!"

"Eddie?" Steve asked, halfway out of bed. "Are we--is everything okay?"

"Yeah I--yeah." He grimaced, grabbing a strand of his hair and pulling it protectively over his face. "I think I woke you up."

"S'okay." Steve ran a hand through his hair, before slowly sinking back into the bed, alarm fading. "Are you okay? Nightmare?"

Eddie blew out a breath.

"Probably. It's fine, don't worry about it."

Steve eyed him doubtfully.

"If you're sure..."

Eddie gave him a wobbly smile back, patting the space on the bed next to him as he made himself lay back down. "Promise. I'm--I'm sorry, I guess maybe I should have slept elsewhere..."

That did it.

"You're good. Startled me is all." Steve let out a sort of forced chuckle before laying back down. "I overreacted."

Eddie hummed, not trusting himself to say anything as the two of them settled back down.

It did not escape him that unlike most people who'd been rudely woken up in the middle of the night, Steve didn't try to keep any distance between them.

No, he had to scoot closer, like he needed to know his friend was near.

Eddie squeezed his eyes closed and prayed for death.

"I get nightmares too, sometimes." Steve admitted in the following quiet and oh, God, no, Eddie could not do an emotional late night talk right now.

"They definitely suck." He said flatly, before rolling over to face the opposing wall. "Night Stevie."

Steve snorted, but it sounded amused instead of hurt.

Eddie sighed quietly in relief as he too, turned away to face the wall.

He could do this. He just had to make sure he didn't screw up and fall asleep again, and everything would be...

Perfectly...

...fine.

xXx

"--ddie, you're on my arm man."

"Wha?"

"My arm." That was Steve, Eddie's brain dutifully identified as it crawled it's way to consciousness. Steve who was his friend now, and was also talking very close to his ear.

"Also my leg. And torso."

"You have a nice torso." Eddie mumbled thoughtlessly.

Why was Steve here? They were doing something that should have been stressing him out, was stressing him out, but it was hard to think when he was this tired.

"Thanks," Amusement threaded it's way through Steve's voice, "but I'm going numb here. You have a hell of a grip."

Eddie frowned, the words sludging through the fog, until finally, the dots connected.

Eyes opening wide, he carefully took stock of the position he once again found himself in--wrapped around Steve like the guy was the only life raft left.

Oh my God.

"Shit sorry--" Steve oof'ed as Eddie smacked an elbow into his ribs as he let the poor man go, madly scrambling to get as far away as possible.

He tried to apologize for that, but was too busy fighting the bedsheets to get anything out.

"Eds." Steve laughed, grabbing him as Eddie tangled them both up. "Calm down."

"I'm calm!" He protested, far too loudly, limbs flying every which way as he tried in vein to get the fuck away.

Stupid sheets-!

"Eddie." Two heavy hands came down on his shoulders, Steve having managed to get himself into a sitting position. "It's alright."

"It's not Steve." Eddie spat, and then panicked harder because fuck, that is not what he should have said.

"Hey, easy." Steve was talking quieter now, hands squeezing gently, like Eddie was some kind of spooked wild animal and fuck, he was really losing it here.

"I mean it. We're at the convention, remember? We're sharing a hotel room and you have a bunch of dorks and dumbass things to do in like, two hours."

Eddie violently shrugged him off.

"I know that!"

Steve, somehow, did not take offense to the very aggressive tone that had been snarled in.

"Then you know you can breath for a moment. Seriously, you look like you're gonna pass out."

Which was probably true, given the rapid, rabbiting beat of his heart.

"Is this what you were worried about?" Steve added, as Eddie finally freed himself from the damn sheets. "That you have nightmares?"

“It's not nightmares.” Eddie spat instantly, chest heaving.

His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and he was exhausted to the point where he wanted to cry about it.

God did being gay suck.

“Then--what? That you cuddle in your sleep?” Steve was teasing, Eddie knew Steve was teasing but that was too on the nose. “Dude trust me, Tommy was an octopus growing up. I don’t care.”

“No it’s not, that, exactly--”

"So what is it then, exactly?"

Too. Fucking. Close.

"Drop it Steve--"

Emotions rose like a tidal wave, all encompassing. Overwhelming.

"I would if you weren't clearly upset about something--"

He lost control.

“I’m gay!” Eddie yelled.

Then he clapped a hand over his mouth, like he hadn’t just panicked himself out of the closet.

It died.

The crazy, huge emotions. The way he'd been fighting himself, tooth and nail, the panicked thoughts that were zooming around his brain.

“I didn’t say that.” He said, eyes wide.

Steve blinked.

“I mean, you kinda did.”

Eddie shook his head.

“Nope. No. I said, I said--”

“That you’re gay.” Steve finished, then frowned when Eddie flinched. “Dude it’s okay--”

“Is it, Steve!?” He interrupted, hand finally falling from his mouth. “Is it? Because if you ask half the people at this convention--who are my kind of people and understand I’m not shilling souls to satan--if it's okay!? They'd say no!"

Tears pressed against his eyes, a reaction he hated that he had.

"They'd say no, and then they'd try to kick my ass for sleeping in the same bed as them!"

A tear escaped and he swiped angrily at it.

“I’m okay with it.” Steve said quietly, which had the effect of making Eddie shut up. “And those people suck.”

The laugh that escaped Eddie's mouth was brittle.

Bitter.

He turned his head away from Steve, angry that he’d gone and admitted the very thing he knew better than ever speaking aloud.

“Yeah well, I didn't think you would be, given how you used to accuse anyone and everyone of being a queer loser right along with the rest of the basketball team.”

Which wasn't fair, exactly--Eddie knew Steve had changed. Had seen it in the way he and Robin talked quietly about Will, when they thought no one could overhear.

(A habit Eddie would break them of, if he and Steve made it out of here as friends, still.)

He wasn't Will though, and Will wasn't the one presently sharing a bed with Steve.

“That’s because we were all making out with each other at away games.” It was said so fucking quick Eddie briefly thought he hallucinated it.

Lucky for him, Steve wasn't done.

“Robin thinks that whole thing was some kind of group denial. Like if we made enough of a thing out of it we could all pretend we didn’t have our hands down each others pants all the time. I am not exactly on speaking terms with that group anymore.”

He shrugged like that his fall from grace hadn’t been the center of the rumor mill for most of his senior year, and came with a lot of shit talking at his expense.

“But I can still prove it to you, if you’d like.”

Shock--and six million thoughts-- hit Eddie like a mack truck.

‘You’re lying/No way/that makes so much fucking sense/how did that even start/was it every game/whose pants exactly did you have your hands down and how do you feel about my pants--’

“How?” Eddie got out, sounding only slightly strangled.

“Well--you’re here. I’m here."

And then Steve gave him a smile Eddie had only ever seen aimed at women, a slow lazy curl of the mouth that implied a hell of a lot.

"I'm fine with making the math work."

Maybe he was dreaming this.

(Eddie pinched himself and found that somehow, he was not.)

“I realize I don’t look like it, but I don't the whole casual kissing thing." Eddie blurted out. "Hasn't exactly gone well for me."

He regretted it the second it left his mouth.

That was sharing too much of himself. The vulnerable gooey part who'd kissed a few girls (and even, once, a guy) and found he couldn't for the life of him make such things casual.

Plus Steve was kind of a good friend now, and Eddie had a crush so big that doing this and then never doing it again would kill him, and--

(and, and, and…)

“It can mean something if you’d like.”

What.

“What?”

Eddie stared at him.

Steve stared back.

“Steve Harrington." He said flatly. "Are you trying to get in my pants?”

‘I will rip them off right here and now if you are,’ He thought wildly, like he hadn’t just tried to die on some “it has to be meaningful” hill.

(Sue him, he was a horny teenager who'd just learned sex might be on the table, he could change his mind.

It totally wouldn’t tear his heart apart after either!

Nope, not his, made of steel Eddie’s heart was--)

Steve raised his hands in the “don’t shoot” pose, looking all too pleased with himself.

“Hey, you can’t fault a guy for trying. But,” and here he dropped the flirty little grin, which Eddie was only now realizing he was utilizing, “I meant it. I'm not opposed to trying this out, with you."

Trying? What the hell did that mean!?

Steve hadn't stopped talking.

"I won’t take it anywhere if you don’t want to though, don't worry.

Then he tilted his head and added; “I can also leave if that made you uncomfortable. Robin keeps telling me I can’t flirt with men like I flirt with women and--”

“No.” Eddie’s mouth betrayed him yet again, terrified Steve might talk himself into leaving. “No--you offered!”

Steve raised an eyebrow.

“I did.”

“To have--” God Eddie couldn’t even say the words, “with me?”

Somehow that last part came out as a question, and Eddie planned immediately to throw himself out of a window.

The grin was coming back. “Yes. With you.”

“And it would…mean something?”

That was pushing it, Eddie knew that was pushing it, but it was like he couldn't stop himself.

This whole thing was now a runaway train and he'd ride it to it's inevitable wreck.

“For me it would.” Steve said, raising himself up on his knees.

He inched forward, planting his hands down on the bed, face awfully close to Eddie’s own.

“I don't like doing things anymore without it meaning something. To be honest, I don’t think I ever did. Besides, Robin's right."

"About?" Eddie asked, goin cross-eyed as Steve leaned ever so much closer.

"That when I say I admire you, or I miss you, or that I want to see you, I'm not exactly meaning it in a friend way."

Oh.

"Oh." Eddie said dumbly.

Steve closed the distance, mouth first.

They were kissing.

Stars exploded in the sky. Fireworks went off outside, birds sang, people cheered--

(Eddie bit Steve’s lip, twice, in some sort of overexcited maneuver before he was gently guided into Steve’s lap, the ex-jock twisting to lay back down and bringing Eddie with him.

It was smoothly done, a slow maneuver, and Eddie had to go and ruin that too by ripping his mouth off Steve’s to press sloppy kisses all down his neck.

Thankfully Steve did not shove him off for that, or the hickie he definitely left on that stupid, tan neck, instead arranging them once again until things, finally, started to be less frantic.

It was the best night of Eddie's life.)

xXx

“So what does mean something involve, in this little situation we have here?” Eddie said some odd amount of time later, cuddled happily against a now naked Harrington.

“I’m not supposed to say boyfriends.” Steve mumbled into Eddie’s shoulder. “Scares people off."

Apparently he was the type to need naps immediately after having the naked kind of fun.

“Who the fuck told you that?” Eddie reached down, lacing their hands together tightly.

Steve kissed his shoulder.

“We haven’t even gone on a proper date yet.” He said, rather than responding directly.

“We can’t, Steve, or did you forget where we live?”

Another kiss, this one turning into a grin when it made Eddie shudder.

“Oh we absolutely can. I’ll prove it to you. Next Friday?”

It took him a moment--a stupidly long moment, for someone who prided himself as a wordsmith--but Eddie got it.

A smile exploded over his face.

“Next Friday." He said. "It’s a date.”

(A very long time later, Henderson would find out about all this and gloat about this so hard he’d fall off the steps of Eddie’s trailer.

Eddie would only let him live on grounds that Steve was also there at the time, and was worried about Dustin’s ankle.

This did not stop Eddie from standing above the little shit, announcing karma would one day get him soon, and if not, than Max Mayfield, who absolutely could be bribed into committing murder.)

This was the bonus for Door Prize/Sugar, Spice (and Everything Dicey) which can be read in it's entirely here: LINK

#one bed trope #door prize #S4 AU #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #0o0 fanfics #stranger things #convention #Dustin Henderson meddles #Eddie has a panic attack #bed sharing #fade to black sex scene

726 notes · View notes