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msgexymunson · 8 months ago

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The Ink Shop

Description: Desperate for a job, you answer an advertisement not knowing it's a tattoo shop. It's not particularly difficult work, except for one thing: having to deal with Eddie Munson.

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI or I'll tell your parents, fem reader, thick sexual tension, angst and smut. Fingering.

A/N: I finally wrote it! The teach me fic I've been day dreaming about forever. This will be part one of three, and honestly this is one of the hottest things I've written. If you enjoy it, please comment and reblog, it means the world to me.

8k words

Masterlist Part 2

Screwing your nose up in confusion, you look at the meticulously cut snippet of newspaper neatly attached to your resume with a paperclip. Sure enough, receptionist and administrator wanted for a place called ‘The Ink Shop’.

The outside of the building looks a little bleak, all decked out in black with frosted windows, but the fading lettering above does indeed spell out ‘The Ink Shop’.

Weird. This does not look like a printers.

You smooth down a minor wrinkle in your white shirt and open the door with unsure hands, the bell above ringing out loudly.

Oh.

This is not a printers. This is a tattoo shop.

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors.

Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it.

“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look.

“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’.

“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare.

“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.”

The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…

“No, no, I'm here about the job?”

He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare.

“Really? You?”

“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance.

“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?”

Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over.

“You can let go now princess.”

Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing.

“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume.

A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up.

“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.”

As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac.

“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!”

Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips.

“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?”

Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again.

“Are you immediate start?”

“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-”

“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.”

Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.

“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.”

Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you.

********************

So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it.

It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this.

A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations.

“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.”

Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.

“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.”

Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time.

Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.

Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad.

“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled.

“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.

At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place.

Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that?

“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand.

Oh I'm not falling for that again.

You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed.

“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.”

“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.”

He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here.

“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms.

He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him.

“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.”

Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away.

“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.”

He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing.

You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie.

********************

Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie.

“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?”

“Any appointments with Eddie?”

“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?”

It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back.

“Any walk-ins?”

The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm.

“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?”

Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?”

You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any, princess?”

“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.”

The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement.

“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!”

The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back.

“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!”

It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind.

Chloe walks over, coat in her hand.

“Hey, how you getting on?”

“I'm good, just bored.”

She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?”

You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers.

“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.”

She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe.

“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown.

“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.”

A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.”

“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.”

Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe.

Right, let's just play nice.

Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing.

“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light.

“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.

“You know, that's a waste of a needle.”

Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you.

“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?”

“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-”

Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo.

“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing.

“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.”

Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step.

********************

Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people.

It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots.

You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were.

“Morning Eddie.”

“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words.

He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him.

“I'll be nice if you will.”

Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee.

“I'm sorry Eddie.”

Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs.

“Are you sorry…?”

“What for?”

Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away.

“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop.

“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face.

“Yeah, how do you know?”

“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client.

It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again.

He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move.

Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first.

“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?”

Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?”

He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.”

“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.”

Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.”

He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement.

“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?”

“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.”

Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.

“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?”

“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.”

He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process.

“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”

Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word.

“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you.

“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson.

“So, questions. Can I go first?”

“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin.

“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?”

“23.”

He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.”

“How old are you?”

“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.”

Act younger is more like it.

“I'm gonna start, you still alright?”

“Uh huh.”

“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.”

He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.

The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling.

“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?”

The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow.

“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.”

He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink.

“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.”

Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask.

“How did you start working here?”

Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.”

“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look.

“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.”

You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen.

“What band is that?”

It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt.

“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.”

“Oh, what do you play?”

His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.”

After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.

“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?”

It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away.

“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red.

There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply.

“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.”

Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing.

“Your turn princess.”

“I don't want to play anymore.”

“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.”

“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?”

To your dismay, he smiles yet again.

“You, sweetheart.”

Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.”

He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.”

“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused.

“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”

It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you.

“All done.”

“Huh?”

He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.”

It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip.

“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.”

The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.”

Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second.

“Eddie what do I owe-”

“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”

********************

The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him.

Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line.

Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap.

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what is it Miss?”

“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?”

“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee.

“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him.

He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.”

“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer.

Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear.

“What you up to, princess?”

“Fuck!”

You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach.

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look.

Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass.

“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!”

Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal.

“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.”

Pouting, you hit him on the arm.

“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-”

Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands.

“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home.

It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you.

Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing.

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.

There's a gentle knock on the door.

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it.

“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there.

“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.”

He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest.

As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away.

After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?”

“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself.

Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away.

“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?”

“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.”

Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist.

“For your modesty. Come with me.”

Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried.

“What's going-”

Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?”

Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods.

“Not a problem.”

“Thanks, man.”

Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth.

“I'll be right back.”

If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin.

“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar.

John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face.

“What the fuck are you doing here.”

“Oh come on, you know you missed me.”

John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.”

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.”

A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal.

“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.”

You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you.

“Eddie, we're still working I-”

“It's one beer. It's alright.”

You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?”

Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug.

“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.”

Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier.

“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.”

Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?”

“Come on, don't make me say it.”

Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you.

“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.”

Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty.

‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull.

“And I'm the Easter bunny.”

Giggling, you take another sip of beer.

“Come on, friends? Talk to me.”

Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?”

“I promise.”

You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough.

“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.

“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?”

“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar.

“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles.

“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.”

“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.”

Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes.

“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.”

He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face.

“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings.

“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.”

There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it.

“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.”

Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice.

“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.”

You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.”

“We can keep it professional.”

You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord.

“Professional? You?”

“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.”

A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words.

“You're really confident.”

“You haven't seen what I can do.”

Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.”

“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.”

Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need.

“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?”

“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?”

“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind.

“Final rule. No kissing.”

He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?”

“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.”

Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out.

“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness.

You shake it.

********************

For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it.

Those theories are put to bed on day three.

After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.

Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?”

“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes.

“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely.

“Maybe.”

Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek.

“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.”

Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands.

“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.”

By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards.

In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision.

The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?”

“Hey princess.”

“Come on up.”

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy.

“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles.

“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?”

You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table.

“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.”

He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.”

He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin.

“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt.

“Yeah, you know who they are?”

“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.”

You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.”

He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.”

Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve.

“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own.

“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms.

“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him.

“Come on then, sit down.”

Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed.

“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?”

Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?”

He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?”

Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes.

“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him.

“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more.

“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“Porn, sweetheart.”

It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.”

“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.”

“Huh?”

“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him.

“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-”

He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.

“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.”

“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.”

His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?”

“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.”

“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just relax.”

You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm.

You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop.

“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?”

“Alright.” You whisper.

“You comfortable?”

“Yeah it's just- well-”

“Tell me.”

“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine.

“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed.

“Now just chill sweetheart.”

His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck.

“Fuck, that's really nice.”

He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed.

“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word.

“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.

“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.

“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.

“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe.

“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!”

Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment.

“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.”

“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck.

“I- I haven't decided yet.”

“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core.

“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him.

“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?”

Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words.

“N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.”

He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.”

“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast.

“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point.

“Really?”

There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back.

“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand.

“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more.

He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass.

His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you.

Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples.

“Holy hell!”

He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach.

“Eddie, please.”

Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit.

The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest.

“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?”

Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs.

“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”

Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel.

When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more.

“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?”

You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.

“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple.

The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess.

He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison.

“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control.

“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-”

You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him.

“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”

The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent.

You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.

“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair.

“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.”

“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-”

You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up.

“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light.

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...”

He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.”

“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief.

“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again.

“You seem better already. Right, I better go.”

Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.”

“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.”

And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting.

As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you #tattoo artist eddie munson #tattoo artist!eddie #teach me/show me Eddie #eddie my beloved #eddie x fem reader

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tittiesnhrtz · 2 months ago

Text

ghostface!ellie x reader

minors & men dni , fingering, cunnilingus, knife play, nipple play, overstim

it's a chilly october night, the leaves are still vibrant with autumn hues outside your window. a crisp breeze weaves through the trees outside, sending a gentle rustle through the branches. the faint scent of vanilla, pumpkin spice and cinnamon hangs in the air inside your home, wrapping all the furniture and the trinkets like a shroud. you’re sitting on your sage couch, wrapped in a cozy crocheted sweater, wearing loose shorts and leg warmers to keep your feet warm on the cold tiles beneath you. your parents are away for a few days at your grandma's, with her health getting worse, it's been hard for her to take care of herself.

the glow from the TV feels distant now, the reporter’s voice filling the otherwise silent room. it’s the same grim news cycle: more bodies found, more gruesome and grotesque details of the dead bodies that should make your skin crawl and erupt with goosebumps. but honestly? you’re just tired. tired of the stories and the police coming up empty.

two of your friends from your friend group are dead, and what'd they have in common? you dated them both at some point. this detail shouldn't probably be necessary or even worth dwelling on, but considering how almost everyone who's either flirted with you or gone on a date with you has no doubt ended up dead—killed by the infamous ghostface himself.

yes, a him. that's what mostly everyone believes but you're somehow sure it's not a man. the way ghostface toys with his victims, the blackmail and emotional mind games—it all feels too calculated, too clever to be the work of a man. not that you think men are stupid, but something about this whole situation just feels... off.

the sound of the doorbell jolts you out of your thoughts. ellie, your best friend, is supposed to be here any minute. she's been your rock through the whole ghostface ordeal. and you think you might be catching feelings for her. her stupid puns and that goofy smile plastered on her face whenever she'd talk about space, dinosaurs, comic books or anything that interested her really, got to you at some point.

with a sigh, you push yourself off the cozy couch, and shuffle over to the door. but when you swing it open, what should've been ellie on the other side is just empty air. that’s strange. you step outside, scanning the porch and the yard, half-expecting to see some kids laughing at their ding-dong ditch prank. instead, you’re hit with a chill as a dark figure catches your eye. a ghostface mask. your heart drops. but before you can even process what you just saw, it vanishes into the shadows.

you stumble back inside and lock the door, but then you hear it—a crash from the kitchen. a china dish smashing to the floor. fuck, what if this is it? what if you’re ghostface’s next target? with a tentative breath, you step inside the kitchen, holding a lamp, ready to strike. except, it's not ghostface, it's just ellie, standing there with a sheepish smile on her face.

"fuck- i thought you were-" you start, your voice trailing off as the memory of the figure outside flashes in your mind.

"i'm sorry, jus' thought i'd surprise you and come in through the back." she explains, motioning toward the kitchen door, which was slightly ajar. "you should seriously learn to lock your doors."

her gaze then drops to the shards scattered across the kitchen floor, the delicate china dish now a jumbled mess of white and pastel blooms. "sorry 'bout that." she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck.

you let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and irritation. lowering the lamp, you speak. "next time, just ring the doorbell?”

ellie grins. "yeah, sorry."

"whatever, just help me clean this mess." you motion to the mess on the white and black kitchen tiles.

"yep."

you can't stay mad at ellie and it's not the first time she's done something stupid like this.

𓍯𓂃

after what felt like an eternity of cleaning up the mess, you and ellie finally collapse onto your bed, grateful for the distraction of a movie. the small TV on the cabinet across the room flickers to life, and the eerie sounds of SAW II fill the space. you can feel ellie’s presence beside you—she’s sitting awfully close, her warmth radiating against your side. you steal a glance at her, and to your surprise, you catch her gulping, almost instinctively, not once, but three times already. though you're not sure if it's because of the proximity or the gore-y scenes displaying on the screen.

“not a fan of gore movies?”

she chuckles nervously, her eyes glued to the screen. “not exactly in love with the idea of people torturing each other.” a hint of laughter in her voice, but you can sense something else underneath. something you pass off as anxiety.

you turn your attention back to the movie, but it’s hard to concentrate when you can feel the heat radiating from her. the scene on the screen darkens, and the tension builds as the characters navigate their terrifying predicament. you can’t help but steal another glance at ellie, who’s now looking directly at you.

the characters on the screen scream in despair, but you hardly register it. instead, your focus is drawn to the way her tongue glides over her plump pink lips. and god you want to kiss her badly, to taste the sweetness of her lips.

you don't miss the way her eyes dart down to your lips or the way her chest rises and falls with each breath. you take a breath, steeling yourself, and decide to be bold. you lean in slightly, heart pounding as you gauge her reaction. the air is tense, and you can see her breath hitch, taking that as an invitation, you close the gap.

her lips are slightly cracked but surprisingly soft. she makes a noise against your lips, hands gliding up to rest against your hips, but then they slowly start to wander. under your sweater, from your hips to your waist. ellie can’t help how warm her hands feel against your skin, how smooth, there’s not even callouses on them like hers. the kiss is a bit hungry and impatient, her tongue licking the seam of your lips. your hands move from your lap to cup her face as you part your lips.

the unexpected warmth of her tongue against your cheek sends a shiver down your spine, silencing the whirlwind of thoughts that had been racing through your mind. it’s a ticklish sensation, one that catches you off guard. you let out a small gasp which is muffled into her mouth. ellie continues to explore, her tongue tracing the soft contours of your cheek as if she’s savoring every little bump and curve. there’s a clumsiness to it, an awkwardness that feels endearing rather than off-putting.

when you pull away, a delicate string of saliva connects your lips. your cheeks heat up as you notice the drool glistening in her chin, a sight that is enough to make your panties wet. you lean in and lick the drool off of her, and you can feel her tense up, her hands on your waist squeezing gently. the only source of light is from the TV, and it casts shadows over both of your bodies, the screen and the voices of the characters now completely forgotten. you can feel her hands move from your waist and she’s suddenly cupping your breasts over your bra.

“is this okay?” her thumb traces circles over the soft mounds, staring at you for an answer.

you nod in return and help her remove your sweater and your bra, tossing it somewhere in the darkness. her gaze flicks down to your breasts and for awhile, she just stares. and then a quiet curse follows. her hands move to knead your breasts, watching the skin closely. then, she takes a nipple between her fingers and gently pinches it, watching your every reaction. her mouth latches onto your other breast, her tongue darting out to swirl around it and suck the hardened nub as she pleases, the soft symphony of your quiet noises echoing in the night.

you arch your back, pushing your breasts further into her mouth. she alternates between both of them, giving them both equal attention. her mouth goes dry and she has to pull away with a pop, her green eyes searching your own.

“i wanna feel you.”

her breath hitches and before she knows it, your hands are on the waist band of her jeans, fingers looping into her brown belt. her eyes darken with desire as she looks at you.

“yeah, baby?” she exhales.

the nickname makes your cunt tighten around nothing and you're hastily unbuckling her belt and tossing it away. your fingers work to unbutton her jeans and you slip a hand inside. she lets out a gentle groan as your teeth bite into the flesh of her neck. you leave a series of bruising kisses in their wake as your palm comes into contact with her boxers. to your surprise, she's soaking wet. you almost want to tease her but your desire prevails over it and you're slipping your fingers into her boxers, tracing her slick folds. she's making the prettiest noises too, already falling apart under your touch. but little did you know, she's spent years dreaming of this moment. paintings and drawings of you hidden under her bed, along with the candid pictures that she oh so eagerly waits to get off to every night.

"say you want me."

her breathing is unsteady as she opens her mouth to speak. "fuck." she grunts softly and leans her head into your shoulder. "i want you, baby. please."

her pathetic begging and whines are enough for you to give in, her cunt throbbing as your fingers rub her slick along it. it greedily sucks in your digit as you slowly add it. she feels ecstatic because this isn't a dream anymore, it's real. you add another digit, eliciting a pornographic moan from her. it isn't long until your fingers are curling around her g-spot and her walls are squelching around them.

""m close..s-so close."

"i know. just cum for me, yeah?" you coo into her ear before nipping at the skin just below her ear. and she does exactly that, letting out a strangled sob as her body gets the release she's been chasing for. you take your fingers out of her boxers and suck them clean. ellie still has her eyes shut and her head against your shoulder but she can hear the way your mouth wraps around your fingers and sucks her juices off. she's pulling away and looking at you.

and then, she's guiding you down to lay on the bed, lifting your hips up to remove your shorts until you're splayed in just your cotton panties and leg warmers in front of her. she almost moans at the sight.

"you're so-" she starts, but cuts herself off. leaning down to hover over you and planting a kiss on your temple, on your cheek and one on your collarbone. one of her hands starts rubbing the inside of your thigh as she leans in and kisses you, sloppily. her hand comes to rub your clothed cunt and you feel her muffled moan inside your mouth, as you swallow the noise. she pulls back to look down at you.

"look how wet." she smirks and you almost regret not teasing her about her own drenched underwear.

you can only whimper and lift your hips up in return as her hands hook under the waistband of your underwear and pull it off of you.

"god, so gorgeous and so wet....all for me." she murmurs, more to herself than you. her pupils are blown wide, lips parted as she moves your legs up and pushes them apart. your hands find purchase on her ass beneath her flannel as she mouths at the skin of your neck like it's her hobby. as you squeeze her jeans-clothed ass, you swear you feel an outline of something resembling a... knife. in her back pocket. you take the object out and it's indeed a knife. ellie was in a daze to notice or feel what you were doing— to busy enjoying your skin after only having imagined what it must have felt like in her dreams. your voice, however, causes her to look up from your neck. you dangle the knife in front of her.

"..why do you have a knife?"

her eyes widen a fraction before she smirks and takes the knife from you. "protection. why else?" she answers like you were dumb to even ask the question in the first place. “don’t wanna risk getting killed with ghostface on the loose.”

a pause. "but...it could come handy for other things." she glides the knife down your clavicle to your breasts, the hitching of your breath only serving to encourage her. she presses it down against one of your nipples before moving it lower— where you're aching for her the most.

the cold blade presses against your puffy clit and you moan loudly. "ellie..."

"shh." she coos, grinning down at you, almost sinisterly. she pushes it further against the bundle of nerves, making you whimper. "i need-" she cuts you off by lining the knife along your delicate entrance, you let out a cry and your eyes widen in fear and shock. she seems to notice it and pulls the knife away, but not before gliding it up and down your folds.

"i'm not gonna hurt you, baby." the words roll of her tongue like honey and you feel bad for fearing her in the first place. she places the knife beside you on the sheets and moves to place herself in between your legs. a couple of kisses to your clit before she's greedily licking at your pussy. tongue moving at a relentless pace against your clit as her hands come up to grope your tits. moans fall out of your lips like a prayer and she pushes her tongue inside your cunt before pulling back and lapping away at your juices. you're awfully close and she knows it, she can sense it by the way you're arching your back and gripping the sheets, your knuckles almost white.

"cum on my face, pretty girl." her words vibrate against your clit, causing you to moan out her name.

that elicits a moan from ellie, herself. something stirs in her, hearing you moan her name out like that. and she inserts two fingers into your sopping cunt. curling them graciously against your g-spot, hitting it over and over again as her mouth does the same to your clit.

"ellie..i can't..fuck-" your final cry of pleasure, reverberates through her body. she removes her fingers but keeps lapping at your pussy even after you cum. your weak cries do nothing to pull her away. her grip on your thighs tighten and she pushes them apart from closing. you squirm and squeak due to the overstimulation, nudging her away with all your force, but it's too weak. she doesn't seem too keen on stopping, a hand pushing down on your stomach to stop you from squirming.

"s-stop." it isn't until that word comes out of your mouth that she stops and pulls away to look at your wrecked form. cheeks flush and hair tousled. you don't know how much it affects her. you never do.

"sorry, got too carried away." she murmurs. but she's anything but sorry. after helping you lay your head down on the pillow, she pulls the covers up your body. she can tell she's tired you out by the way your eyes are half lidded and your limbs look sore. she soothes you by wrapping her arms around you, intertwining your hands, and placing a kiss on your forehead. eventually, you drift asleep.

the longer she looks at you, the world outside fades further into obscurity. you, who's sleeping blissfully, completely unaware of the fact that the knife that was pressing against your clit a few minutes ago was the same knife that she used to brutally stab and dismember the body of a classmate who dared flirt with you. you, who's probably having sweet dreams while she has to go and take care of the unconscious body of the guy who rang your doorbell this very night.

this is my first time writing smut or anything close to a fan fic!! so if you see any mistakes js ignore it :3

#ellie williams #lesbian #ellie williams smut #tlou #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ghostface #i have my physics exam tmr and im writing smut in the middle of the night #definitely failing my exam #smut 🗝 ‧₊ ഒ

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intromortal · 3 months ago

Text

OLDER!ENHYPEN OT6 HEADCANONS.

part 2

⚠︎ | nsfw, mdni. daddy/sir/master kink, age gaps (every party in this is an ADULT, no minors involved) dub-con for hee's part, stepcest for jay's, infidelity for jake and jay's, teacher-student dynamics for jungwon's, sunoo is mean as hell, big cocks enha and i'm not sorry lol, yes this is a repost

HEESEUNG | tried to stay away from you for so long, tried with all his might to resist you. you are just too young, and you’re his friends’ daughter. he knows it’s wrong but how can he help it when you’re so pretty? so gorgeous? and such a dirty little thing too, always trying to wordlessly seduce him. he notices how your lustful eyes follow him everywhere whenever he’s over at your parents house for dinner and you happen to be there too. he notices how you bite your lips raw and the way your thighs clench so hard under the table when he speaks to you. he notices how you always wear the most revealing outfits you can get away with for him, little shorts and tiny tops enhancing your curves so beautifully, an open invitation for him to completely ravage you. it makes him want to fucking ruin you.

that’s how he ends up sneaking in your room so late one night, after everyone already went to sleep, your parents so naive for offering him to stay the night too. your innocent sleeping form making his cock twitch in his pants as he thinks of all the dirty things he could do to you. the things he could make you do to him for being such a sly little slut.

he carefully slides in your bed, face hovering over your clothed cunt before lowering himself and pressing his tongue on it, spit smearing on those same shorts that make his mind go places it shouldn't. he works on your pussy just like that, fingers slipping past your shorts and inside your dripping hole, wet tongue sucking on your clit over the fabric but never actually touching you with it. he knows if he got a taste of your sweet little hole he would be a goner forever. he can tell you're awake by then, just pretending to sleep as your hips start to ride his digits and needy mewls leave your lips oh so sweetly. ones he will have to silence with his thick cock inside your mouth if you don’t stop it, “can’t have your parents find you’re such a whore for me… what would they think, angel?”

JAY | who has had a soft spot for you ever since he started dating your mom. to the oblivious eye merely a healthy stepdad-daughter relationship, but anyone paying attention more closely would find just how weirdly close you two are. always spending way too much time together, always making up some excuse to leave gatherings together, jay always so protective of you and straight up mean to any boyfriend you bring home for him to meet. he always says it’s because he just wants the best for you, sweet thing. only he knows that what he means by best, is himself.

“always bringing home these boys, never a worthy man,” he whispers against your mouth, spit dripping everywhere, as his warm hands encourage you to keep bouncing up and down his veiny length, salty tears still drying on your face from the pain of the stretch his unusually big cock always provides you. no matter how many times he makes you take it all, the first minutes are never easy. always slow, always filled with him whispering reassurance when you say you just can't take it. “what is daddy gonna have to do to make you understand you just deserve better?” he mouths at your neck, low groans in response to your pink manicured nails grabbing his slowly graying hair, sending heat straight to your core. he licks a stripe up your sensitive skin, relishing in the way your cunt that's already so stretched out and tight against him flutters at his words, trying to suck him in even more. “does daddy have to put a baby inside you, sweet thing mhh?”

you shake your head vehemently, the thought of your mom finding out what you’re doing with her husband making guilt knot in the pit of your stomach. he lands a few harsh slaps on your clit that have you yelping in his hold, clearly dissatisfied with your reaction. “you will take anything i give you,” he says in your ear, his firm tone leaving no room to talk back. he picks up his pace, quite literally hammering into your cunt as he holds you down by your waist with his strong hands. “daddy always knows best, pretty girl.”

JAKE | hates to see a pretty girl like you in tears over scummy little boys. especially when the boy in question is his own idiot son. he couldn't understand how he even got such a gem as yourself to waste time with him, a liar and a cheater. jake knows his son better than anyone else. so finding out he was cheating on you and creating a fake instagram account to anonymously send you all the proof and the screenshots he collected was easy. it’s also easy to welcome you inside his home when you go there to confront your boyfriend, and sweetly comfort you when you find out he’s not there. jake’s rough and warm hands are so soft on your thighs, thick thumb swiping over the flesh so carefully, as if you might break any second. his tone is so smooth and buttery as he whispers soothing words in the crown of your hair. how you deserve so much better and how you’re a strong girl, you will be okay precious. his presence is so strong and he radiates such a manly energy, so different from that of your boyfriend, it makes you feel all fuzzy inside. jake notices how you clench your thighs right away, how your breathing becomes labored under his soft touches and affection. “i’m sorry for being such a mess right now, sir,” you sheepishly say, and his cock jumps at the term. you’re just so so sweet, he thinks as his full lips ghost over the shell of your ear, “just give me permission, and i’ll make you feel so much better, precious.”

you’re under him in no time, back pressed to your boyfriend’s sheets as jake ghosts his fingers along the slit of your fluttering pussy, already weeping for him. “so messy… so wet babydoll… who is this for?” he asks, purposefully collecting your slick to make a mess with it on his son’s sheets. “you sir!” you reply eagerly, hips rocking into his hold in search of more friction. he chuckles as he lowers his warm mouth to your cunt, eyes locked with your own. “i’ll take care of you so good precious… so good you won’t even know why you’re crying anymore.”

SUNGHOON | watches enamored as you glide across the ice rink, all dolled up with the dress he chose and gifted your for this competition, the gemstones in the shape of an S on your lower back reflecting the light so prettily with every movement you make. he’s been coaching you for months now and he thanks every entity he can think of for bringing such a lovely thing like yourself in his life. he knows most people wouldn't approve of your age gap, but they don't understand what being under your spell feels like. that’s exactly what you did: put a spell on him. your accidental brushes against his crotch while he corrected your form, your little groans as your joints stretched past your limit whenever you trained, your big doe eyes always looking at him for some sort of reassurance for any sort of praise. so fucking eager to please. so desperate for love.

you’re so obedient for him as he makes you ride him silly on the seats next to the ice rink after the competition is done and everyone’s already gone home. knowing very well anyone could walk in at any moment and catch you. but you're such a needy little slut for him he can feel how hard you clench around him whenever he mentions that possibility, whenever you think about anyone seeing you so full of his thick cock that took you twenty minutes to get used to. his length twitches so deep inside you when he notices how close you are but still won't let yourself cum, so whiny and desperate in his ear because you’re waiting for him to tell you to let go. so eager for his voice even when he’s making you go dumb on his cock.

“my little girl… you can let go baby, i got you,” he whispers as his mouth latches on one of your nipples, the metallic taste of the piercing adorning it filling his mouth and overwhelming his senses. such a dirty little slut hidden under your good girl façade.

you shake your head and pick up the pace, but can do nothing to stop your walls from fluttering around him as he literally forces your orgasm out of you, holding you down on his cock and pressing his tip so deeply inside you it makes you see starts, telling you that "it's okay little girl, you're making daddy feel so good"

SUNOO | acts like hiring you, on request of his daughter (your best friend), was such a big big favor. and initially you thought so too; the money is good, the office is close to your apartment, your coworkers are nice too! sunoo even made sure you climbed up the ladder quicker than any other employee of his ever had. sure you are competent and you do your job well, but you were also so naive for thinking he wouldn't expect anything back.

after all he takes such good care of you in the company, why wouldn't he want you to return the favor?

it’s not rare for you to find yourself on your knees under his work desk, the door of his office open.

“open up for me… gonna let master use your mouth huh?,” he says, tapping his leaking cock on your lips and smearing all of his salty precum all over your pretty features.

“yes, master.” you do as you’re told right away, glossy eyes never leaving his as you stretch your mouth wide open for him, anticipating the struggle that always comes with welcoming his length anywhere in your body. and you’re right, he rams his cock in your mouth without giving you any time to adjust, his cock so thick and big you’re already choking all around him and it’s not even halfway in. his tip already brushing the back of your mouth. he tilts his head sideways and stares at you like you’re dumb, waiting for you to take more. you truly do try, big tears falling from your eyes as you try your best to not disappoint him. and he laughs at you. “useless little puppy,” he sighs, grabbing a handful of your hair and pushing you against his dick. “this should be easy for you by now. i know it’s big but i’ve been training you.” he cooes, his bottom lip jutting out in an expression of fake pity. “been making you gag on this cock for so long and you still can’t take it?”

your lashes are all wet with tears now, and you can’t tell if it's the hurt of having disappointed your master or the physical pain his member is causing you, but you can feel how it twitches in your throat when he notices your distress. he takes it out of your mouth, needy whines leaving you at the loss of weight in your tongue, and holds it over your face. “since you can’t suck cock properly,” he punctuates the last word vehemently. “lap it up. like the stupid little dog you are.”

JUNGWON | is everyone’s crush in your university. he’s that one teacher everyone is constantly daydreaming about. so gentle, helpful, smart, funny and charming. he just has it all. it doesn't help that he’s so open about how much he loves his two year old son, always showing anyone that comes to his lectures pictures upon pictures of his baby on his phone. every single person swooning over he’s taking such good care of his kid as a single dad.

he takes such good care of you too, in the backseats of his car before you both go to your lectures: him to teach and you to learn. you’re straddling his face, his mouth latched on your sensitive little bundle of nerves as he switches between sucking on it and lapping at it like a man starved. you’re a moaning mess over him, your hips moving on their own volition as he ghosts his fingers on your thighs and traces them up to your lower back, his big hands bringing your entire weight down on his mouth.

“fuck jungwon… feels so good,” you moan as you throw your head back, eyes closed shut at the overwhelming sensation. you yelp out in pain when he nibbles on your clit a little too harshly for it to be a mistake. “sir… sorry sir.”

he goes back to lapping at your cunt, the tip of his tongue only occasionally prodding at your entrance, ignoring your mewls and whines for more. he makes you cum like that, depriving you over and over of what you really want until just a slight swipe of his tongue on your neglected clit is all it takes for you to gush all of your juices in his mouth. “so good for me… such a good girl…” he whispers as you come down from your high. and before you can even register it he pushes you lower, down to his cock and slaps it over your sensitive cunt a few times, making you jump slightly because of the overstimulation. he grabs your neck and clashes your lips to his, tongue lapping at your own as he lets you taste your own release, “gonna fuck you so good baby,” he says as he locks eyes with you, a glint you’ve never seen before hidden under the lustful shadow covering his irises and blown out pupils. “wanna give you a baby of your own… want to fill your tight little pussy up…”

a/n: tumblr jebal those are just petnames get off my cock

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fairyysoup · 5 months ago

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easy living

pairing: eric (a quiet place: day one) x fem!reader

summary: You ran into Eric on accident. Now you're facing the end of the world together. How do you get to know someone when you can't make a sound?

tags: smut, oral (f receiving), dry humping, piv sex, silent fucking, angst, hurt/comfort, survival, discussions of trauma, slight suicidal ideation by reader, words of affirmation as a love language, stay silent or die (obviously), strangers to lovers, apocalyptic, the cheesiest ending bc it's me writing, billie holiday lyrics bc it's also me writing

a/n: here it is, the silent fucking fic i promised y'all a year ago when this movie was announced. it was supposed to be like 1-2k words of plain smut but then I got too into the theory of what one does when you can't show affection through words and I genuinely discovered a tidbit of trauma I didn't know I had while writing it so I will be talking to a therapist about it, and also I'm literally out here baring my soul lol.

i also want to thank @bigtiddythanos @raraeavesmoriendi and @maximoffwxnda for supporting me throughout this writing process <3 this fic literally would not have been finished or published without y'all

ALL MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

The rain has ended. Morose, you stare up at the ceiling, wondering when you’ll get something close to free reign with your voice again.

Of course the world had to end while you were at fucking Whole Foods.

You’ll miss certain things. Things you always took for granted, that you never even considered made a lot of noise until now. Typing on the computer. Making stir fry. Microwaving a burrito at 3am. Lighting a match, washing your face. Taking a shower.

And other things, too, that are more obvious, like singing while making cookies. Slurping the bottom of a milkshake. You’ll never be able to have a pet bird. You’ll never be able to see another concert again, and damn it if you didn’t really want those Glastonbury tickets a month ago. But it all just seems trivial, now. You don’t see why you shouldn’t just lay here on the couch forever.

On the other side of the coffee table there’s a gentle shuffling. Eric rouses as quietly as he can; at the very least, your apartment creates a hospitable enough environment that he isn’t startled awake. It’s so silent in the apartment that you can hear the slight shift in his intake of breath, the rustle of the pillow as he turns his head to look at you.

You want to look at him, but you fear that you’ll end up wanting to talk. So, you say nothing. You do nothing. You stare at the white paint on the ceiling and you wonder whether it would be better to get on one of the boats headed out into the water, or to move inland, away from people, away from sound. There has to be somewhere far enough away from the city that the… creatures won’t go, right?

Eric waves his hand in your periphery, so that you have no choice but to acknowledge that you know he’s awake. You have no choice but to turn your head and look into the depths of his eyes, and feel all the pain of the last 48 hours return to you. You’d been able to talk last night, just enough, in time with the rain and the thunder– enough to learn that he has family across the world.

You can’t imagine knowing that somewhere, across an ocean and half a world away, your parents may or may not be dead. No way to contact them, no way to know what’s become of them. You can’t even begin to fathom the fear that he’s feeling, as much as you’re despairing.

Eric’s big eyes tell you everything. Sadness and fear, and trying to grasp at the smallest hint of normalcy he can get. He blinks at you, and mouths, You okay?

No, you’re definitely not okay. Things are not okay. Things are broken and can’t be fixed. Things will never be the same again. He knows that, as much as you know that. But you nod anyway, even though you feel your heart beat a little bit slower than usual, like it wants to just go ahead and give up already. Tears prick at your eyes, and you have to close them before you let on that you’re lying.

Eric knows you’re lying, of course. How could anyone be okay, in this kind of situation? But he waits until you open your eyes, and then he mouths, Coffee?

You let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile that’s indescribably warm crosses your face. Even though he can’t make a sound, he knows exactly what to say.

You don’t have a coffee maker that doesn’t also make a ton of noise. But through some kind of witchcraft, Eric quietly empties two k-cups into a glass measuring cup and boils a soup pot full of water on the stove, and suddenly you have hot coffee in front of you.

On a notepad left on the counter, you write, Wish I had some tea for you.

Eric’s lips turn up at the edges, and he takes the pen from you. You’re able to doctor your coffee for about one second before he slides the notepad back to you.

Bloody American.

Your ensuing huff of a laugh is enough to make him turn pink around the ears, and he turns to place the dirty measuring cup into the sink. He reaches for the faucet, but then thinks better of it. You’ll have to figure out how to wash the dishes later.

You both drink your coffee in silence on the couch. You never considered yourself uncomfortable with silence; you’ve lived alone, you’ve gone for weeks without uttering a word before. But it’s so difficult to be sitting next to someone– someone you feel you could really get to like– and not be able to say a word. To make a sound, laugh or cry or snort or grunt.

You’ll never be able to know what Eric’s laugh sounds like, or listen to his favorite song with him, or watch some stupid rerun of Friends with him while ignoring your responsibilities. He’s right there next to you, he’s risked his life to save you once already, and yet he’s so far away. You’ll never get to know him in all the ways you want to. Will you ever really know him at all?

He’d created a diversion when one of the fucking things had you trapped in a corner, between a dumpster and a brick wall. He chucked a rock at a car and set off an alarm, and then ran with you down an alleyway, his arm wrapped tight around your waist. Eric looked so sad, following you like a lost puppy. He was fucking drenched, too, so you know he’d probably been through one hell of a morning. And then the rain started, and the creatures were confused and… well, you weren’t just gonna leave him, scared and alone.

You, too, were scared and alone.

Eric’s hand appears to brush away a tear that had begun to fall down your cheek, betraying your internal monologue. You look to him with puffy eyes, and he pulls his hand away, suddenly unsure of whether you’re okay with such an intimate gesture.

Your coffee cup meets the table with a quiet tap. You’re slow to move, but you scoot towards him, his arm still outstretched towards you, his eyes wide. Eric has the prettiest eyes in the world, you think. You want to tell him so.

But you’re a little too choked up to form words, anyways. Your forehead meets Eric’s shoulder, and his arm comes around you before you can huff the first silent sob that brims up. He coos softly into your hair, so softly that you can barely hear it, but it conveys enough. It does enough.

The world is fucked. Your life is fucked. You have tunnel vision and you can only see things getting worse from here on; the only good thing you know anymore is holding you and caressing your head so gently that it pushes your tears out for you.

You’ll never get to see a movie in a theater, and smell the stale popcorn again. You’ll never drive down the highway with the wind in your hair. You’ll never ride a roller coaster or sing karaoke. You’ll never go to a club and have a drunken heart to heart with a stranger in a bathroom.

“Do you think it’s worth it?” You whisper, so faintly that it’s barely above a breath, your lips pressed to the shell of his ear. “To try to exist in a world where you have to pretend like you don’t exist?”

Eric pauses, holding you to him. You can see the wheels turning in his head, while he tries to figure out what to say. Then he turns his face to put his lips against your ear, the same way you’d done to him.

“I think it’s worth it to try to survive.” His breath tickles your skin when he whispers, “So survive with me, yeah?”

You nod solemnly, your tears threatening to rise up again. “I can’t stand not talking to you.” It’s so hard to keep your voice from cracking, from rising above the merest hint of a whisper, directly to him and no one or nothing else.

Eric takes it in stride. “You are talking to me.” He pulls back and bats his eyelashes, and you think, he oughta fucking know what that does to me.

“Not like this,” you breathe to him, because that’s really what it is– it’s a breath. A sigh. A gust of air and nothing else, barely anything that registers on your vocal chords. Your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him close to you. His hand, tightening on the middle of your back, holding you there. “I want to talk– I want to get to know you.”

“Well, this isn’t so bad, is it?” Eric turns his head. His forehead nudges yours at the temple, and you swear you see a flash of a smile on his face. “What do you want to know?”

His forefinger traces up and down, up and down, a gentle pattern that keeps you grounded. You bite your lip, trying to keep from letting the sounds come out too loud. You say the first thing that comes to mind. “What’s your favorite song?”

“Easy Living. Billie Holiday.”

“You’re kidding.” You’re blushing, hot in the cheeks. You’re imagining it; slow dancing in the kitchen with him while oldies plays on the radio. You didn’t think such an innocent question would send you spiraling like this, but it hurts worse to know that it will probably never happen.

“Absolutely not.”

“Somehow… I can’t picture you listening to jazz.”

“Picture it all you want,” he whispers. Eric swallows, and continues, “My granddad used to have these records, and we used to play them on Christmas. But when– when he died, the records went missing. I couldn’t find the song until a couple years ago,” he explains, and his voice cracks just slightly into a murmur.

You both freeze. You wait for the sound of creatures coming down the hallway, busting down the walls… nothing happens. You let out a breath, and you pull his face closer to yours. His eyes flick over your face, and you put your lips against his ear.

“You have to be so quiet. Can you do that for me?” Eric nods in your hands. “I wish we could do anything but this. I wish that we could have met in better circumstances. I wish… I wish I had known you before all of this. I think we would have had a lot of fun. But if this is the only way I can get to know you, and hear your voice now, I’ll take it.” You’re nodding as well now, like you’re trying to convince yourself of it. “I’m telling you this because I don’t know how long we have. Together, I mean. And I don’t want to waste it passing notes. Okay?”

“Okay.” He sounds clipped. His hand fidgets on your back, and you pull away to find him misty-eyed, his brows turned up. He fishes for words that don’t come, and then he nods. “Okay.”

Neither of you move. The atmosphere around you feels heavy, like it’s pressing in on all sides. Eric’s hand slides up your back and to your face, and you remember that you’re still holding his. You’re near sitting in his lap with how close you’ve become, and the realization of that feels like a punch to the gut.

You think you should pull away. You don’t.

Eric’s thumb traces a gentle arc across your bottom lip. It’s so featherlight it’s barely there– his eyes are honed in on your mouth, clearly lost in thought. You’d let him stay there as long as he wants, but you want every minute you can get. “Eric–”

He closes the gap and kisses you. The way you’d said his name– or not said it, rather, you sort of mouthed it against his thumb– had done the job you wanted it to. It feels like this was the obvious conclusion to the system you’d worked out, the close proximity and your shared fears. He’s scared, he said as much last night. You’re scared, you said so just now.

Nowhere to go, nothing else to do except be right here, living. Alive, together. Kissing Eric, and him pulling you close by the waist, so that you do swing your leg and seat yourself in his lap. And as much as you love talking, and it breaks your heart that you can’t jabber at him, there are some things you just can’t put into words. Like the way that his hand on the back of your neck lights you up inside, or that you can’t think of anything other than all the areas where his skin is touching yours, and how you suddenly wish there was way more of them.

It’s stupid how much you like him already, really. You can feel your nonexistent friends clucking their tongues and shaking their heads, saying, “One day? That’s all it takes? You find some guy at the end of the world and you fall in love in 24 hours?” And they’d be right– maybe it’s not love. Not yet, anyways. But you could see it easily becoming that. And that fact scares you even more.

Your hands find Eric’s chest and the frantic beating of his heart tells you nearly the same thing. You break the kiss, trying to quietly catch your breath without gasping like you’re half-drowning. It’s harder than you expected.

“Been wanting to do that all morning,” Eric whispers. And just like that you’re falling again, faster this time, like he’s just melted your wings right off and sent you plummeting.

You struggle to keep from gasping aloud when he kisses your jaw, just beneath your ear. It’s the lightest touch but you swear it burns, sears your skin.

Your hands find the back of the couch, twitchy fingers digging in to keep you steady. Your mouth finds his again, his tongue tasting of coffee, and Eric kisses you a bit harder now, a bit sloppier.

Breaking away, you open your eyes to find his wide, starstruck, his mouth hanging open like he’s been shocked beyond belief. You didn’t honestly intend for this to happen– you wanted to talk. But somehow this seems better, more appropriate.

How do you get your feelings across when talking isn’t really an option? When innocent attraction becomes… whatever this is?

You press a single finger to his plush lips, signaling exactly what you mean without a word. Quiet.

Eric purses his lips, kisses your finger without breaking eye contact. His pupils are blown out so far that the barest hint of golden brown surrounds them, glinting in the sunlight from the window.

You lean forward, until your mouth touches his ear. “Your eyes are so fucking pretty, Eric,” you whisper to him, and your teeth latch onto his earlobe to tug gently. You can’t help it– you grind your hips down into his lap, without even thinking of doing it. “You’re so pretty.”

Eric whimpers. It’s a soft sound, hollow in the back of his throat, but it’s still too loud for the world that you’re in. You clamp your hand down over his mouth, and his breath comes out sharp and hot over your knuckles as he tries to regain composure.

“Do you want me to stop?” You ask him, whispering gently in his ear. Against you, he shakes his head no. “Want me to keep going?” Eric nods his head yes.

He’s shaking under you, his fingertips digging into your lower back like he can’t hold onto you hard enough. At the thought, your pulse pounds, blood positively humming through your veins.

You nuzzle his cheek, and give him the sweetest kiss you can while your hand is still clamped over his mouth insistently. “You have to be. Fucking. Silent. Do you understand?” He nods. “We can’t make a sound. Okay?”

Eric nods again, and keeps nodding until you let him go. If the rain was still pouring like earlier, you could tell him how much you want him, too. How you don’t want to be mean, you just don’t want to get hurt. This is a bad idea, all things considered. But Eric slides his hand down and cups your ass to lift you up a bit, and the words bad and idea suddenly fucking vanish from your vocabulary.

You stand long enough to kick off your sweats, your day old panties going down with them. You hadn’t dressed to be sexy yesterday, you dressed to get groceries. You don’t necessarily want Eric to see your faded cotton underwear with the stretched out elastic and multiple frayed holes. You don’t think it would add to your sex appeal right now.

He doesn’t notice the lack of a strip tease– he’s already taking you by the hips, not even waiting for you to shuck your t-shirt. He pulls until you’re stood in front of him, and then hooks your leg over his shoulder.

So. Eric doesn’t need to be asked to go down on you, he just does. The gentleman. His hands are firm on your ass as he nuzzles into the patch of hair between your legs, and the precarious balancing act makes you snatch onto the back of the couch again.

His tongue glides through the folds of your pussy slowly, methodically. You aren’t sure if he wants to take his time, or if he’s going slow so that he doesn’t make too much noise when doing it, but he latches onto your clit and sucks agonizingly softly, like he knows he should do it harder but won’t risk making you moan.

It’s so gentle, and it builds. Pretty soon, you’re having a tough time keeping your whimpers in, even when he’s basically just teasing you, flicking his tongue over your clit with even the barest pressure. Your head has fallen back on your shoulders, your hand now clasped over your own mouth to stifle your sighs.

Then, Eric’s hand glides up to splay across your lower back, and he sucks long and hard at your clit, and your hand squeezes murderously at the back of the couch while you ride out your orgasm on his tongue.

Knees buckling, you collapse into Eric’s lap. He has a doe-eyed look on his face that’s way too innocent after what he just did to you. With panting breath and shaking hands, you cup his rosy cheeks in your palms, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eric’s brows tilt in worry, like he did something wrong. He opens his mouth, but you put your fingers against his lips to silence him, and lean forward to breathe, “You’re too sweet for me, Eric.”

He traces his fingers lightly up your spine, and turns his head. “Maybe one day I won’t have to be sweet. Maybe then I can really fuck you.”

The sound of his whispering voice in your ear makes you shiver, your lust reaching a boiling point. The idea of him really fucking you– that this isn’t even him as normal, that he’s having to hold so much back– makes you burn hot all at once. That this isn’t something he’s planning on doing once. That there’s a ‘one day’ that he sees in the future with you in it.

With a nod, your breath catches in your throat. You find your way to his mouth again, kissing him desperately. You can taste yourself lingering on his lips, and your hips rock forward against his again.

Eric inhales sharply, stifling his own moan. You guess you have to take it just as slowly as he did, ease him into it. You work your hand beneath his unbuttoned fly and palm him, keeping your touch gentle against his hot skin. He shakes, his hands laid out against your spine, his eyes sparkling when he looks up at you.

You push your forehead against his as you sink onto his cock, letting yourself adjust to his size. His breath stutters as he tries to keep quiet, small puffs of air spilling out and meeting your electrified skin. You curl your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck, rocking your hips just barely, settling into his lap.

This is more intimate than you can ever remember being with anyone, but right now it just feels right. Maybe it could be cathartic to fuck like a couple of animals in the face of doom, but Eric pulls your body flush against his, one strong forearm around your waist, and his nose nudges yours, and you think this is better. This is what you both need. Closeness. Sweetness.

There isn’t a lot of movement– you can’t risk it. You and Eric seem to be in agreement on that, because as soon as you start trying to move in earnest, he just pulls you back to him, his arm around your waist and his hand petting the back of your head.

Eric rocks his hips up into yours slowly, deeply, and it’s the depth of it and the slow sensuality that keeps you floating. Your clit catches on the patch of hair at the base of his cock each time you roll your hips with him, and you have to kiss him to keep from keening aloud. He doesn’t seem to mind it.

You know he’s close when he tucks his face against your neck, his arm tightening around you. “Feels so fucking good,” comes his whine in your ear, and you gently shush him, your hand resting on the back of his head to keep him muffled against your shoulder. You want so badly to look at his face when he cums, but there’s that pesky issue of staying alive, and that hinges on whether or not he can keep quiet when he does.

To his credit, he bites your shoulder and only whimpers a little bit. It’s just a squeak, but really, he could have been much louder about it, and then you would have both been in trouble. Imagine having to run for your life with your pants down.

Ever the gentleman, he keeps you there even after he’s spent and sensitive, his hand clamped down on your thigh to prevent you from moving. His thumb finds your clit, and he lifts his head to watch you, his hooded eyes trained on your face as he brings you to the edge and over it again. He watches the way your brows tilt up, the way you struggle to keep your own eyes open, and the silent moan that threatens to break past your parted lips.

Eric claps his hand down over your mouth before it can. Your eyes fly open, your cunt clenches down around him, and he bares his teeth as you cum hard. It’s cyclical, comes in waves as he continues to stroke you through it, as he keeps his hand clamped down on your mouth to keep you quiet.

To keep you quiet.

Feverish and exhausted, you come down with your chest against his, Eric’s head flopped back onto the backrest of the couch. Your knees fucking hurt and you have yet to get off of him, and you sort of dread the moment when you have to. But this means your mouth is positioned right next to Eric’s ear, and you’re nothing if not a talker.

“Eric?” you whisper, and he turns his head just enough to let you know he heard you. “I’m glad that I met you when I did. Even if it’s terrible timing, I’m glad we met.”

A sweet, tired smile flits across Eric’s beautiful face. He nudges his nose against your temple. “I’m glad, too.”

You shift off of him, and he squeezes your thigh just at the same time as he scrunches his face. He’s such a trooper about it, you kiss his cheek as you go, leaning over to grab a pair of earphones from the coffee table.

You hand one ear bud to him, watching as confusion crosses his face. He watches you type on your phone as he tucks the bud into his ear, and you the other.

On low volume, you listen to the soft piano and saxophone intro to an old jazz standard. Eric grins, his hand finding your cheek before he pulls you in for a kiss.

And then, Billie Holiday’s voice plays for only you two to hear.

Living for you is easy living, It’s easy to live when you’re in love And I’m so in love, There’s nothing in life but you.

#eric a quiet place day one #eric a quiet place x reader #a quiet place day one #roses*#eric x reader #eric a quiet place day one x you #eric a quiet place x you #eric a quiet place day one x reader #eric fan fiction #eric x you #joseph quinn

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cherrygirlfriend · 4 months ago

Text

hidden away

pairing: brother's bsf! rafe cameron x reader

genre: smutsmutsmut, minors DNI!!! / oral (m receiving)

synopsis: your brother's best friend convinces you to give him head in a closet

word count: 1.9k

a/n: part three of brother’s best friend but can be read as a standalone!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩

Music blared in your headphones as you closed the front door behind you, a heart-shaped lollipop between your lips, still on a high from spending time with your friends, moving your body along to the music that came from your headphones, one of your favorite songs playing as you kicked your shoes off of your feet and made your way to the kitchen.

However, when you arrived at the kitchen doorway, you almost let out a loud yelp, startled by a blonde guy you had never met before standing at the fridge. As he turned to face you, you removed your headphones and put them down on the counter, now hearing faint music coming from the living room. "Who are you?" you asked him, your brows furrowed, and you could basically see the lightbulb above his head light up in realization. "Oh, I'm Topper, one of Scott's friends." The stranger said with a smile. "You're his sister, right? We're hanging out in the living room."

You scoffed, storming off to the living room, hell-bent on giving your older brother a piece of his mind about how even if your parents were away, it didn't mean that he had free range to have his friends over at whatever time he'd please, and if he didn't get his friends out of the house, you'd-

Your train of thought was cut off when you felt yourself bumping into someone's broad chest, a pair of piercing blue eyes looking down at you accompanied by that same grin you could make out from a mile away, causing the annoyance in your chest to die down as you cleared your throat, stepping away from him.

"Rafe." You said his name softly, the self-satisfied grin on his face only widening further as he placed his hands on your waist to help keep you steady, causing you to furrow your brows and look up at him like he was insane. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"What's wrong?" He arched his brow suggestively, his hands slowly moving to your hips as his tongue flicked out of the mouth you had gotten to know quite well as of late. The tall blonde brought his lips close to your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine as he whispered into your ear, "From what I remember, you were asking for much more the last time I saw you."

You were suddenly attacked by memories of his head between your legs, of him pressing kisses down your neck as he fucked into you, making you tremble and-

Forcing yourself to stop thinking about what had happened, you tugged him by his hand to the closest door, forcefully pulling him inside and closing the door before realizing you had just trapped yourself into a small broom closet, Rafe's semi-hard cock now pressing into your abdomen as the blonde sported a shit-eating grin on his face, leaning down slightly to bring his lips closer to yours.

You put your hands on his chin, keeping his lips away from yours as you looked into his eyes sternly, "Rafe, you can't just... put your hands on me when anyone could see us, especially my brother. He'd kill you if he found out what we've been doing behind his back."

"I could easily take him. It's not my fault you look so fuckin' tempting... You wear those shorts just for me, or what?" The boy grinned, bringing his hands down to cup your ass, pulling you closer to his body. "Rafe," you looked up at him, noticing that his pupils were dilated and his eyes slightly pink, "are you high right now?"

"Just a tiny bit." Rafe grinned, taking your chin between his index finger and thumb, "But that doesn't change how much I wanna fuck you right now..." He sighed, one of his hands slipping under the hem of your shirt, the feeling of his cool hands against the bare skin of your back, your breath catching in your throat as your back automatically arched into his touch.

"Rafe..." You sighed, his lips finding their way onto your neck, latching onto the skin as you wrapped your arms around him, wanting nothing more than to give into him, to give in to the arousal you could feel stirring inside of you. "Rafe, we can't..."

"Come on, you know you want to..." He whispered, sucking on your neck slightly, the suddenness and intensity of it causing you to let out a small whimper, "I heard that cute little noise... You clearly want it..."

"It's not about that." You said, forcefully pulling him away from your neck, Rafe grinning at the red mark he had left on the skin on your neck before his gaze finally roved over to your eyes, the blonde cocking his head to the side expectantly, silently implying you to give him the reason to your refusal. You sighed, knowing just how insistent he could be, so muttered your reasoning quietly, causing Rafe to furrow his brows.

"Princess, you know I can't hear you."

You rolled your eyes, looking at him with an irritated expression, "I'm on my period, Rafe."

"So?" Rafe shrugged, making you widen your eyes, "You know, I hear that orgasms help with cramps." He grinned, and you softly smacked his forearm, the blonde feigning offense with a small laugh, "I'm just trying to be of assistance!"

"Well, unfortunately, I'm not really into period sex. Even the idea of that mess..." You shiver dramatically, causing him to chuckle as Rafe rests his head against the wall of the broom closet, looking at you pleadingly. "What?"

"Well, could you at least... suck me off or something?" Rafe asks, pouting at you pleadingly, the fakeness of the gesture causing you to roll your eyes in exasperation. "Princess, it's been two weeks since I last saw you, I need something... I'll make it up to you, I promise..."

"How?"

"By returning the favor to you when you're no longer on your period..." He said in a gruff voice, biting down on his lower lip as he sized you up, clearly enjoying the sight of you in nothing but your frayed denim shorts and tank top, "Until you've come on my tongue so many times that you can't even remember your own name."

When the words left his lips, you could feel your breath hitch in your throat, the memory of his mouth sucking greedily on your clit still vivid in your mind as you stepped closer to him, pressing your chest against his, looking up at him through your lashes. "Promise?"

He placed his hand on your jaw before bringing his lips down to yours, kissing you intensely, his hand going to your hair, running his fingers through it softly before pulling away, his kiss still leaving you just as dizzy as it had the first time he had kissed you. "Promise." He said huskily, bringing your hand to the front of his pants, the blonde letting out a hiss as you palmed his erection through them.

Within seconds, you were on the floor of the broom closet, on your knees in front of Rafe as he looked down at you, his pants at his ankles, the blonde quietly groaning as you palmed him through his boxers. He held onto one of the shelves as he threw his head back, more than eager for you to finally stop teasing him. "Come on..." Rafe breathed out, making you chuckle softly before finally giving in, pulling down his boxers to let his hardened cock spring free.

You spit onto your hand, wrapping it around the base of his long cock and giving him a few strokes, the boy letting out ragged breaths as he opened his eyes to look down at you, mouth open as you were preparing to take him into your mouth, his hands running through your hair as before gathering it all into a makeshift ponytail.

When you licked a stripe up the vein running across the underside of his cock, he couldn't help but shiver and slightly tug on your hair as your lips wrapped around the sensitive head of his cock, your tongue darting to get the drop of precum that had leaked onto his tip into your mouth.

With your cheeks hollowed out, you looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, a wave of arousal washing over you as you took half of him into your mouth, bobbing your head at a slow pace as your hand was at the base of his cock, stroking the part of his cock that you hadn't yet managed to get into your mouth.

The fact that you hadn't been able to take all of him into his mouth didn't seem to bother Rafe, though, the blonde's head thrown back in pleasure as you picked up your pace, and when he tugged your hair, you couldn't help the small moan you let out around his cock, causing vibrations to go through all throughout his body, his cock twitching in your mouth as he groaned your name, "Fuck, you're so good..."

When you finally dared to take even more of him into your mouth, his grip on your hair tightened once again and a small whine left his lips, the sound going straight to your core, the sight of the pleasure you were giving him turning you on.

Once you had all of him in your mouth, you gagged around him when the swollen head of his cock hit the back of your throat, causing tears to well up in your eyes. You picked up your pace, Rafe biting down on his lower lip to stop himself from letting out the loud, needy groans that were just begging to get past his lips.

When he let out a shaky breath and tightened the grip he had on your hair, you knew that he was getting close, his already unsteady breaths turning into pants as he opened his eyes, looking down at you with glassy, blue eyes. "Gonna cum in your mouth... Want you to take it all, baby, take all my cum into your pretty mouth..."

You moaned around his cock, causing another wave of vibrations to hit him as he closed his eyes and thrust himself deeper into your mouth, now guiding your head by your hair, the head of his cock now hitting the back of your throat repeatedly until you finally started feeling hot, salty ropes of cum coating your tongue while you helped him ride out his orgasm.

Rafe's eyes fluttered open, looking down at you with a grin as you pulled your lips away from his cock, his grip on your hair loosening as he ran his hand through your hair gently before his index finger and thumb went to your chin, making you look up at him. "Open your mouth."

You felt shivers run down your spine from the commanding tone of his voice, and you did as he told you to, showing him that his release was coating your tongue, the blonde boy letting out a low groan. "Swallow." He said hoarsely, and you closed your mouth, swallowing his cum.

He helped you to your feet, looking down at you with a small grin as he shook his head, pulling his boxers and pants back on. "Do you know how adorable you look when you do what I tell you to?"

Rafe's hand is on your cheek, and you lean into his touch as he brings his lips closer to yours, but just as your lips are about to connect with his, you hear a familiar voice outside of the closet.

"Rafe?" Your brother called out, causing all of the color to drain from your cheeks as you looked up at Rafe with wide eyes.

#outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #outerbanks rafe #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe fic #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #outer banks fic #outer banks smut #outer banks

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sweetpascal · 4 months ago

Text

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞

gif by @iamasaddie

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: it's the first day under your stepdad's care, and boredom hasn't crept in at all. you suggest having a movie night, and to your surprise, he agrees immediately.

warnings: MINORS DNI. age gap [18/52], pervy thoughts, joel is condescending, sweet nicknames (sweetheart, babydoll), joel calls himself 'daddy', overprotective joel (in a bad way), innocence kink, DUB-CON, NON-CON, sloppy thigh fucking, somnophilia, we're starting out soft

wc: 2.9k

notes: DON'T LOOK AT ME.

series masterlist | next chapter

Waving at your mom from atop the porch, you couldn't help but feel the giddiness bubbling up inside. At last, the house would be peaceful without her snide remarks about what you're, how you're speaking, how you're sitting, and so on. The comfort of relaxing in your own sanctuary was something you've eagerly anticipated since she announced her week-long departure. Although it meant seven days of serenity, your stepdad, Joel, would still be around, which was fine by you. Compared to your mom, Joel was the cool, calm, and collected one, making him the favored parent in your eyes.

As her car disappeared around the corner, you dashed back inside and inadvertently slammed the door with too much force. You winced and clenched your jaw, hastily covering your mouth with your hands as Joel stomped around the corner, his deep frown evident, and large hands planted on his hips in a wide stance.

"What have I told you about slamming doors in this house?" he asks, eyebrows raised, head tilted, waiting for your response. He gestures impatiently when you hesitate. His tone is stern, and his expression suggests he is not in the mood for games.

"Sorry, Joel," you say meekly, your lips curving into a small pout, your heart pounding in your chest while his stern expression remains unchanged. Tears begin to fall before you can hold them back. With a soft sniffle, you turn away, embarrassed, to wipe them off.

You hear him let out a deep sigh from as you try to hold in your little cries. You hear his slow, heavy footsteps as he approaches. Then, you feel his big hands rubbing up and down your arms before turning you around to pull you into his chest. He hushes you softly, tutting quietly when your cries turn into whimpers.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmurs, bending down to kiss your head softly. "No need for tears. I ain't mad at you, silly girl." With a curled forefinger, he gently lifts your chin. He dabs at your tears and plants another kiss on your forehead, the sensation of his scruff against your skin causing you to close your eyes.

"You're not?" you ask shyly, sniffling quietly as you begin to calm down. "But you seemed angry at me, Joel. It was very scary." Fidgeting with the buttons on his flannel shirt, you remain too nervous to meet his gaze, especially given the close proximity.

Joel's lips form into a grin as he realizes the storm of emotions that you're feeling. Now that the two of you will be alone for one whole week, he finally has enough time on his hands to break you down and put you back together repeatedly. He's finally going to be able to mold you into his perfect little dream girl.

"What can Daddy do to help you feel better?" Hm? Tell me," he says softly, urging you to gaze into his eyes, which you did. Hearing what he called himself made you laugh, which made his grin grow wider. "What's so funny, huh?" Poking you in your side, he laughs when you squirm.

"Mom said I shouldn't call you that," you say, releasing a soft sigh and returning to your button fidgeting. "She says that I'm old enough to use your name, and she thinks it's weird." Your voice carries a touch of sadness that Joel picks up on. He clenches his jaw at the thought of your mother's judgment over something so inconsequential to her.

Joel lifts your head gently, placing his finger under your chin. He gazes into your shining eyes, your eyelashes stuck together from the heavy tears that are beginning to dry. His other hand grips your hip, causing you to make a small noise. Being this close to him, looking up like this, felt so wrong. It was an uncomfortable closeness, especially from an outsider's perspective.

"Alright," Joel says with a playful sigh, bringing a smile to your face. "Fortunately, we have the entire house to ourselves for a whole week. I might not be as young as I used to be, but I'll do my best to keep up with whatever you want to do. Does that sound good?"

You hum loudly, swaying your hips from side to side in Joel's embrace while resting your chin on his head and jutting your backside out to gaze up at him more comfortably. He swallows hard, stifling a strained groan. You remain unaware, preoccupied with thoughts about how to kick off your week. Suddenly, as if an invisible light bulb shined brightly atop your head, your expression lights up.

"Movie night! With snacks! Oh, please, Daddy? Pleeeaaase," you whine, stretching out the last word as you pout and make puppy-like noises. Joel rolls his eyes and gives your backside a gentle pat, a familiar gesture from your private moments together. Now, he can express his affection openly, without hiding it from your mother in the same house.

"Get your butt upstairs and get ready," he motions with his head, signaling you to hurry. With a delighted squeal, you leap up, press a kiss on his stubbled cheek, and scamper up the stairs, slamming your bedroom door shut. A muffled apology comes through the door, and he chuckles, shaking his head.

The market was unexpectedly bustling. Each cash register featured a lengthy queue of customers eager to check out. Amidst the commotion, you found yourself drawing nearer to Joel, clutching the back of his shirt as you attempted to match his brisk pace.

"Make sure to stay close to me, sweetheart. We don't want you to get lost, okay?" Joel had repeatedly told you during the drive and now.

You nearly regret wearing such a pretty outfit on a hectic day. Dressed in a simple summer dress with delicate straps, sheer thigh-highs, and petite wedges, you find yourself wishing you had planned more wisely. But Joel's constant compliments, calling you pretty and ain't you a peach made it worth it.

As minutes passed, you inadvertently drifted away from Joel. You had both wandered through the candy aisle when the array of lollipops, gummy bears, and jellybeans captured your gaze. Standing there, like a child in a candy store, you were practically quivering with excitement at the thought of your stepdad purchasing anything you desired. While reaching for a small bag of gummy worms, you were jostled by someone, prompting a gasp to escape your lips as the bag slipped from your grasp.

A hand reaches down, picks it up, and extends towards you, presenting the bag. You tentatively accept it from the man, turning to face him and feeling a wave of discomfort at his unkempt appearance. He gives you a once-over as he licks his bottom lip. The sight of his thinning hair and prominent belly does little to ease your unease.

"I apologize for that, sweetheart," the term makes you recoil as it feels off when he utters it. When Joel says it, it elicits a sensation of floating and tingling. "I wasn't paying attention where I was going, but you certainly are a pretty sight. Are you here by yourself?" His unsettling stare compels you to want to shield your skin and escape to a distant place.

You sweep the aisle with your eyes, searching desperately for Joel's familiar broad form. Your heart and thoughts are calling out to him, wishing he could sense your distress telepathically and come to your aid against this nasty man. Gripping the candy bag closer to your chest, you watch as he edges nearer, feigning interest in a label just over your shoulder.

"My, uh, my stepdad... he... he, uh..." You couldn't bring yourself to form words as the man's fingers adjusted the fallen strap of your dress. Whimpering quietly, you pressed yourself harder into the shelf, closing your eyes tightly and silently hoping that this man would just go away.

Before the man could approach further, a large shadow loomed over your closed eyelids. As you opened your eyes, you were confronted with Joel's broad back, his masculine scent overwhelming your senses. His hands were balled into fists. Peering around him, you caught sight of the man's eyes, wide with fear, his expression betraying his predatory intentions. As your gazes locked, Joel once again shielded you with his frame.

"I suggest you walk away right now before you find yourself picking up your teeth from the ground," Joel warns in a low, menacing tone that you've never heard before—not even with your mother or step-uncle. It's terrifying to hear him like this, yet there's comfort in knowing he can protect you should things turn violent.

The man dashes out of the aisle, abandoning his basket of groceries without hesitation. Joel remains in front of you briefly, ensuring the man doesn't come back to check if you're alone again. As he turns to face you, the anger in his eyes and the scowl on his face grow more pronounced. He presses you against the shelf, invading your space in an intimidating manner.

"What the hell did I just tell you before we came here?!" he exclaims, almost shouting, his brows furrowed and his voice booming. "I ain't the one you should be playin' games with, little girl." He points a finger at your face, leaning in until his breath skims across your skin. "Repeat it," he commands in a deep, rough voice.

"I… I…" Overwhelmed by the situation, you burst into tears and cling to Joel, burying your face in his chest once more, sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm so sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to get distracted! And then that man, he wouldn't leave me alone!" Joel struggles to understand you through your sobs, but he hushes you gently, enveloping you in his strong arms and softly patting your back.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture of exasperation at your naivety, so oblivious and innocent to the world around you. As your cries subside to hiccups and faint squeaks, he gently eases you away from his chest, indifferent to the tear stains on his shirt.

"Listen to me, and listen well," he says, his tone stern yet his large palms gently cupping your cheeks. "Men like that are the ones that wanna take you away from me. They wanna keep you locked away and keep you for their own. You're not smart enough to be left alone, sweetheart, because you get put into these situations and you don't know how to act. That's why when Daddy tells you to do something, you do it. Is that understood? Nod your head." He notices your eyes glazing over as you listen to him speak. Mimicking a nod, you snap out of your trance and return the gesture.

"I don't want anyone to take me away from you, Daddy," you whisper, the thought of being separated from Joel filling you with terror, and tears swiftly gather at the edge of your eyes once more. "It's scary."

Joel tuts at you, lowering his head to kiss your tear-stained cheeks. The salty taste of your tears on his tongue had a warmth spreading throughout his lower half. "I know, babydoll. I know," he murmurs, giving your butt a series of gentle pats as he kisses your forehead. "Daddy's here now. Get your snacks so we can leave."

That evening, you change into your sheep-patterned sleep shorts, a light white camisole, and cozy thigh-high socks. As you spin in front of the mirror, Joel's voice faintly calls you downstairs to start the movie. Laughing with excitement at the prospect of a movie night free from your mother's watchful eye, you clutch your beloved stuffed plushie and head out of your room.

Joel lounges on the couch, clad in sweatpants and a casual t-shirt. A bowl of buttered popcorn and assorted snacks are spread out on the coffee table. Beside him, a beer for himself and, thoughtfully, your preferred strawberry kiwi juice. The sound of your footsteps hurrying down the stairs reaches him. He contemplates reprimanding you, yet as you appear, the words dissipate unspoken.

The cool air made your nipples turn into peaks that poke through your thin top. The thigh-highs squeeze your thighs and makes them look extra plushy and grabbable. He takes a deep swallow and sips his beer, his gaze fixed on your appearance. You extend your hands, silently inquiring about your look. Joel scans you from head to toe once more, giving a nod of approval as his jaw tightens.

"You look very pretty, baby doll," he tells you in a strained voice, motioning for you to come closer as he lays out across the couch, his back against it. "Come cuddle so we can start the movie."

Approaching, he could detect the uncertainty in your body language and facial expressions. "Are… Are you sure we should cuddle? Will my mom be upset?" The naive inquiry prompted a rough chuckle from Joel. Your embarrassment was palpable as he laughed openly at your question.

"Oh, honey," he mocks sympathy and stares at you from his sprawled position on the couch. "You seem to keep forgetting in that little head of yours that I'm in charge of this house, and whatever I say, goes. Now, when I tell you to come over here, I expect you to do it without questioning me."

The commanding tone of his voice brooked no argument. To enjoy the week with Joel, you had to push your doubts and hesitations away, instead of fretting over your mother's opinion on the closeness between you two. Joel seemed to understand better; he knew what was best for you, and as he put it, his word was final.

As you approached where he lay, you could just make out him whispering, "That's my girl." The praise made you blush, cherishing the moments when you're told you're doing well and being a good girl for it. Joel consistently offered such verbal reassurance, never hesitating, even in your mother's presence. She, however, often showed her irritation with his way of praising you.

For god's sake, Joel. She's a woman, not a little girl anymore.

You eagerly lay beside him, your back pressed against his chest, as Joel draped a blanket over both of you and started the movie, "The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent." It was a moment you had anticipated ever since you mentioned to Joel how much the character Javi resembled him. Trembling with excitement, you snuggled closer to Joel, your smile buried in the stuffed animal you held, while his arm drew you in even tighter. A pleasant hum vibrated from his chest against your back.

Only thirty minutes into the movie, Joel heard a soft snore beside him. With furrowed brows, he leaned over and saw your closed eyes and parted lips, your arms clutching your stuffed animal to your chest as you hummed sleepily. Shaking his head, he lay back and pulled you closer, smiling to himself as you unconsciously snuggled into him. When Joel makes sure that you're fully asleep, he inches hips back and lowers the blanket off your body. Your sleep shorts had ridden up your thighs, further exposing your lower cheeks and giving him a glimpse of your panties.

"Fuck," he breathes out, feeling his cock beginning to harden and thicken in his sweatpants. With one hand holding onto your hip to keep you steady, Joel begins to grind his cock against your ass, slotting his covered thickness between your cheeks and breathing heavily into the back of your neck. "Goddamn."

You never once stir as you're so deep in your slumber, unaware of the world around you and what Joel is doing to your unconscious body. He can practically feel his tip leaking in his sweats, the gray color darkening as precum stains the fabric. Erratically, but careful enough to not wake you, he lowers his sweatpants and guides his thick cock between your thighs, the tightness of them closed creating a delicious friction that had his mouth dropping. Joel hikes your shorts higher up your waist, forcing the fabric tighter against the shape of your virgin pussy.

He fucks his hips forward and back, sliding his cock deeper between your thighs and further against your covered cunt. Sweat dots at his hairline and the back of his neck as the warmth in his gut coils tighter and tighter. He hears the distinct slick of his precum staining your inner thighs as he abuses them without your knowledge.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunts low in his throat, his hand tightening on your hip to position your body in a better way for him to fuck your thighs. "Daddy is such a dirty man, ain't he?" He fucks your thighs faster and faster, his thighs slapping against the back of your own gently. Surprisingly, the movement and noise doesn't wake you.

As he continues muttering to himself, Joel doesn't realize just how close he was. His balls were heavy with cum, waiting to be exploded onto your unexpected skin. The tip of his cock was throbbing with need and dribbling with more precum. His abdomen tightens when you shift and arch your back in your sleep, briefly tightening your thighs and rubbing them together.

The sudden friction had Joel choking on air before he hunches over your body and watches his cum shoot out of his engorged tip and onto the couch. He's biting down on the pillow as his thighs shake. He just won't stop cumming.

"Holy shit," he grunts quietly, falling back against the couch and swiping a hand down his sweaty face. He breathes heavily, wincing and tucking himself back into his sweatpants. He glances over at the tv, and Javi comes onto screen. He scoffs and shakes his head to himself. He doesn't see the resemblance.

taglist:

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!! let me know if you wanna be added to the next chapter !!

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel miller x reader #dark!joel x reader #stepdad!joel x reader #stepdad!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller tlou #joel miller x you #joel miller the last of us #dark!joel fic

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pedroscowgirl · 4 months ago

Text

A Younger Revelation

Hugh jackman x female!reader

Part 2

Warnings: smut! Minors, DNI!!

Age gap (reader is their (mid) 20s), p in v, creampie (wrap it up), choking, hugh is posessive (?) , daddy issues (i can't help it) and squirting

lmk if i missed some!

Words: 4.5k

A/N: I saw a few ppl say that hugh (and his son) are into older women and i just had to write something about it cuz i want to be his controversial younger gf i hope you like it!

You and Hugh had been friends for over three years, ever since you starred in a movie together. The on-screen chemistry was profound, and off-screen, it quickly turned into a deep, genuine friendship. But as time passed, you began to notice a shift in your feelings. It wasn't just admiration for his talent or his kind-hearted nature, it was something far more intense. You had always been drawn to older men, a fascination born from perhaps, some unresolved issues with your father. It was a part of yourself you had come to understand, but with Hugh, it became an irresistible pull.

The age difference was glaring. Hugh was closer to your parents' age, even older than your dad. The thought of being attracted to him felt wrong, almost taboo, like a secret you shouldn't entertain. Yet, the more you were around him, the more you craved his presence, his voice, the comforting maturity he exuded. The way he moved, the timbre of his laughter, and the warmth in his eyes, it all made you want him even more. It didn't help that you had come across interviews and internet whispers, and even a hint from his ex-wife, all pointing to his preference for older women. It stung, knowing that you probably weren't his type, but it didn't stop the fantasies from consuming you.

One evening, the two of you sat on the terrace of his apartment, sipping wine under the silver glow of the moon. The city lights twinkled in the distance, but the world felt confined to the small space you shared. It was a beautiful, quiet night, and the air was thick with unspoken words. You had always enjoyed these moments with Hugh, comfortable, intimate, and filled with a sense of ease that belied the complexity of your feelings. But tonight, the tension felt different, more visible. The usual comfort was tinged with a sharp undercurrent of desire.

Taking a deep breath, you decided to break the silence. "You know," you began, your voice soft and deliberate, "we have something in common." Hugh glanced at you, curiosity sparking in his eyes. "We're both attracted to older people."

He paused, his glass halfway to his lips, caught off guard. You saw the confusion in his eyes as he processed your words. "You're attracted to older women," you continued, watching as his expression shifted. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. The tension in the air thickened, and you felt a heady rush of adrenaline. "And I'm attracted to older men."

Hugh choked on his wine, coughing slightly as he set his glass down. The look of surprise on his face was priceless, but you pressed on, feeling bolder with every word. "Have you ever tried a younger woman?" you asked, your voice dropping to a sultry, almost teasing tone. You leaned in closer, your breath ghosting over his skin. "Don't you ever crave it? The energy, the freshness... the excitement?"

He looked at you, a mix of shock and intrigue in his eyes. There was a visible shift in the atmosphere, the air charged with a new kind of tension. Hugh's gaze darkened, his eyes roaming over your face, then down your body, as if seeing you in a new light. He swallowed again, visibly trying to maintain his composure. "Sweetheart," he began, his voice low and rough, "I'm too old for you."

You tilted your head, a sly smile playing on your lips. "But you know what it's like to be into that," you said, leaning in so close that your lips nearly brushed his. The proximity sent a shiver down your spine, the anticipation building to a fever pitch. "Maybe you could try something different, something... younger."

Before you could second-guess yourself, Hugh's hands were on you, pulling you onto his lap with a smooth, assertive motion. The sudden intimacy made your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the firmness of his chest beneath your hands. His grip on your hips was possessive, his fingers digging in just enough to send a thrill through you. The reality of the situation hit you—this was happening.

Hugh looked up at you, his eyes intense and filled with a mix of desire and conflict. "I mean," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, "we can try something, and I'll get back to you on that." His words were laced with a sensual promise, an unspoken agreement that sent a rush of heat through your veins.

You felt the weight of the moment, the gravity of what you were about to do. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles. You could feel the slight tremor in his hands, a testament to the struggle between his self-control and the desire simmering beneath the surface.

Leaning in, you whispered against his lips, "Let's see where this goes." The tension was unbearable, the air thick with anticipation. And then, finally, his lips met yours. The kiss was slow and exploratory at first, a tentative test of boundaries. But it quickly deepened, becoming more urgent, more passionate. His hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The world outside ceased to exist. There was only the sensation of his lips, the taste of wine, and the electric connection that sparked between you.

In that moment, everything else faded away. The doubts, the fears, the societal norms—they all melted into the background. All that mattered was the way he made you feel, the way your body responded to his touch, and the intoxicating promise of what was to come.

As you broke the kiss, a delicious tension lingered in the air, thick with the promise of more. Sitting on Hugh's lap, you felt the heat of his body radiate through his clothes and into your skin. His hands, strong and sure, moved from your hips to your ass, squeezing gently. The intimate touch made your breath hitch, and your eyes locked with his, the burning gaze between you sparking an electric connection.

"I'll admit, you're a good kisser," he whispered, his voice low and dripping with that irresistible Australian accent. The words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but bite your lip, savouring the compliment. "You're not so bad yourself," you replied, a playful smile tugging at your lips. He chuckled softly, his eyes briefly dropping to your chest, where the rise and fall of your breath betrayed your growing anticipation.

Hugh's hand slowly slid from your ass up to your shoulder, the touch sending a trail of warmth in its wake. With a deliberate slowness, he hooked a finger under the thin strap of your tank top, pulling it down with a teasing grin. The fabric slipped off your shoulder, revealing more of your skin, and you felt the cool night air against your bare breast, sending a jolt of awareness through you. You weren't wearing a bra, and the sudden exposure made you feel both vulnerable and excited.

His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of awe crossing his face as he took in the sight of you. "Beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself, before he leaned in closer. His other hand joined in, deftly removing your top entirely. As the fabric fell away, leaving you bare from the waist up, you felt a delicious thrill of exposure, the night air cool against your skin. Hugh's gaze was hot and heavy, his admiration evident as he took in the sight of your nakedness. You could see the desire in his eyes, mirrored by the lust in your own.

Feeling his intensity, you felt a flush spread across your cheeks, your breathing growing shallow. There was something incredibly erotic about the way he looked at you, fully clothed in his short-sleeved shirt that highlighted his toned arms and muscular biceps. The contrast made you feel even more exposed, more vulnerable, and yet, it was thrilling. Before you could say anything, he leaned in, his lips capturing your nipple. The sensation sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, making you gasp.

Your hands instinctively reached for his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as his mouth worked its magic. He alternated between soft licks and gentle bites, each touch sending ripples of pleasure coursing through you. Your hips began to move on their own, grinding against him as you sought more friction, more connection. You could feel the hardness of his arousal pressing against you through the fabric of his pants, and the knowledge of his desire only heightened your own.

As his mouth continued its sweet torment on your sensitive skin, your body responded eagerly. Every flick of his tongue, every nip of his teeth, sent sparks of pleasure straight to your core. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more. The feel of his warm, wet mouth on your nipple was intoxicating, and you couldn't help the soft moans that escaped your lips.

Hugh's free hand roamed up and down your back, caressing and holding you close as if grounding himself in the reality of this moment. The feeling of his hands on you, the weight of his body beneath you, and the heat of his mouth all combined to create an intoxicating mix of sensations. You felt powerful and utterly desired, lost in the pleasure of the moment and the knowledge that this man, who had seemed untouchable, was now very much within your grasp.

As you continued to grind against him, the friction and heat built up between you, each movement sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Hugh's breathing grew ragged, his grip on you tightening as he responded to your movements. His mouth left your nipple, trailing kisses up to your neck, where he nibbled softly, drawing another gasp from you.

You felt like you were on fire, every nerve ending alight with desire. The air was thick with the scent of wine and the heady musk of arousal, and you knew there was no turning back. The night had taken a turn into the forbidden, and you were more than willing to explore this uncharted territory with him.

As Hugh's lips lavished warm kisses on your breast, each touch sending electric jolts through your body, you felt an irresistible urge to feel more of him, to uncover the mystery beneath his shirt. Your fingers moved with a mind of their own, sliding up his torso and curling into the fabric, giving a gentle tug. It was a subtle yet unmistakable sign for him to undress. He paused, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with you, a playful grin spreading across his face. His hands moved to the hem of his shirt, peeling it off with an effortless grace that left you breathless.

As the shirt fell away, revealing the sculpted lines of his chest and the ripple of muscles beneath his skin, your eyes widened in astonishment. You couldn't help but let out a soft, appreciative gasp. "You have an amazing build for your age," you murmured, your voice tinged with genuine admiration and a hint of awe.

Hugh's smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. "You know what else is great for my age? My stamina," he replied, his tone dripping with confidence and a hint of mischief. The promise in his words sent a delicious shiver down your spine. You bit your lip, the anticipation making your pulse race. "Let's test that out," you challenged, your voice barely above a whisper but full of bold intent.

Without a moment's hesitation, Hugh's hands found your waist. With an effortless strength that took your breath away, he lifted you and set you down on the cold surface of the terrace table. The sudden contrast of the cool marble against your warm skin made you jolt, a soft gasp escaping your lips. It was a shock that only heightened the pleasure coursing through you.

His hands worked at the buttons of your pants, sliding them down your legs and casting them aside. You felt exposed, vulnerable, yet undeniably excited. The night air kissed your skin, adding to the thrill of the moment. Hugh's eyes roamed over you with a hunger that made your heart pound. As his fingers trailed down your thighs and found their way to your wetness, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"Aren't you a little embarrassed?" he teased, his voice a low, seductive purr. "To be this wet for a man older than your own father?" His words were provocative, laced with a taboo allure that made your cheeks flush. You knew there was a truth in what he said, but the forbidden nature of it only heightened your desire. Hugh was unlike any man you'd ever known—there was a raw, magnetic allure about him that drew you in, making you forget about the world beyond this terrace.

He was a god in human form, exuding a potent mix of masculinity and confidence. His touch was confident and assured, his fingers exploring you with an intimate knowledge that made your body sing. The cool night air combined with the warmth of his hands created a heady contrast that made you moan softly. Hugh's thumb found your clit, and he began to circle it with a tantalizing slowness, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You're so responsive," he murmured, the huskiness of his voice sending a thrill down your spine. Then, with deliberate slowness, he pushed a finger inside you. The sudden intrusion made you gasp, your body arching towards him, craving more of his touch. The intensity of your desire was palpable, a living, breathing thing that consumed you.

"Already?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I'm not even inside you yet." You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, which only made him chuckle. There was a warmth in his laughter, a sound that wrapped around you and heightened the anticipation building between you. "Go ahead then, go inside me," you dared him, but the words came out more like a plea, your voice breathy with need.

Hugh's expression shifted, his eyes darkening with lust. "My god, you're such a slut for me," he said, his voice thick with desire. The crude declaration sent a jolt of excitement through you, making your heart race. "Fuck yes, Hugh, I am," you confessed, the honesty in your voice making your cheeks burn. It was liberating, admitting just how badly you wanted him, and his smirk told you he relished every word.

"Fine, I'll give you what you want," he murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his face. With deliberate slowness, he unzipped his pants, letting them drop to the floor. The sight of him, hard and ready, made you swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry with anticipation. You couldn't help but stare, your eyes tracing every inch of him, the primal hunger in your gaze unmistakable.

Then, as if breaking the spell, Hugh looked up, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Oh, I don't have a condom with me," he suddenly said, a hint of concern in his voice. You barely hesitated, the words tumbling out before you could think. "It's okay, I'm on the pill." The moment hung in the air, the intimacy of the situation crystal clear. His eyes darkened further, a predatory gleam shining in them as he absorbed your words.

"If you say so, babygirl," he murmured, his voice low. He positioned himself at your entrance, and with a slow, deliberate thrust, he entered you. The sudden fullness made you gasp, your hands gripping the edges of the table for support as your back arched involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pressure that made your mind go blank.

Hugh groaned, his head tilting back as he savoured the feeling. "Gosh, you feel so delicious around me," he breathed out, his voice laced with raw desire. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he began to move, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Better than anything you've had before?" you managed to ask, your voice shaky with the intensity of the sensations coursing through you. It was a question born of curiosity and a bit of pride, wanting to know if he felt the same electric connection that you did. His response was a low, guttural moan, his eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity.

"Much better," he rasped, his voice dripping with sincerity. His movements became more urgent, more insistent, as if he couldn't get enough of you. The rhythm he set was intoxicating, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the table beneath you shaking with the force of his movements, the cold surface a stark contrast to the heat building inside you.

Hugh's hand slid up your body, fingers tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers through you. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder of the power he held over you in this moment. The pleasure built to a crescendo, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it felt like you might explode. The world around you blurred, and all you could focus on was the delicious friction and the overwhelming sensation of him filling you completely.

"Fuck, you're amazing," he growled, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he could scarcely believe the intensity of the moment. The praise sent a thrill through you, pushing you even closer to the edge. You could feel him pulse inside you, every inch of him fitting perfectly, as if he was made for you.

As the intensity of the moment reached its peak, Hugh's thrusts grew even more purposeful, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that left you breathless. You felt a different kind of pressure building within you, a sensation that was new, raw, and overwhelming. It was as if your body was responding to him in ways it never had before, every nerve electrified by his touch.

Sensing the shift, Hugh slowed his pace slightly, maintaining a deep, steady rhythm that drove you wild. He leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. "I can feel it, baby," he murmured, his voice a low, seductive growl. "You're so close. Let go for me. I want to feel you come apart."

The deep timbre of his voice and the promise in his words sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you continued to mount, reaching an almost unbearable level. You gasped, clutching the edge of the table as if it were a lifeline, your body shaking with the effort to hold back. But Hugh was relentless, his thrusts hitting just the right spot, coaxing you closer to the edge.

He placed a firm hand on your lower abdomen, pressing down gently. "Just let go, sweetheart," he urged, his voice soft yet commanding. "I want you to let it all out. Don't hold back." His words were like a key, unlocking something deep within you. The sensation became too much to contain, a dam about to burst.

With a strangled cry, you felt the floodgates open. A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, your body convulsing as you squirted, a hot rush of release that left you trembling. The sensation was so intense, so utterly consuming, that you could hardly breathe. Your vision blurred, and your mind blanked out everything but the exquisite feeling coursing through you. Hugh's eyes never left yours, a satisfied, almost possessive smile playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he coaxed, his voice dripping with pride and satisfaction. "Let it all out. You're amazing."

As the intense waves of your orgasm began to subside, Hugh didn't slow down. Instead, he kept the pressure steady, his thrusts deep and precise, as if he was determined to draw every last ounce of pleasure from you. Just when you thought you couldn't handle any more, he reached up and wrapped a hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to send another thrill of excitement coursing through your body. The sensation of his strong hand on your neck, combined with the powerful thrusts inside you, was intoxicating.

He leaned in close, his eyes locking onto yours with a dark, possessive intensity. "I'm gonna cum in you sweet girl" he growled, his voice low and commanding, sending shivers down your spine. The weight of his words hung in the air, adding a dangerous edge to the moment. "And you can never spill it, okay? Or I won't fuck you ever again." There was an undeniable authority in his voice, a challenge that made your heart race even faster.

The combination of his hand around your throat and the raw dominance in his voice sent you spiraling into another wave of pleasure. You nodded, breathless, barely able to form words. "Okay," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with the pressure on your neck and the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.

"Good girl," he murmured, a satisfied smirk on his lips. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to leave you breathless. You felt him pulse inside you, his release hot and thick, filling you completely. The sensation pushed you over the edge once more, your body arching towards him as you came again, the intensity almost too much to bear.

Hugh groaned, the sound deep and primal, as he found his release. His hand around your throat loosened, his fingers caressing your skin in a tender contrast to the roughness of his thrusts. The mixture of gentle and rough was intoxicating, leaving you utterly spent and completely satisfied.

"No young man has ever made me feel this way," you whispered, your voice shaky but filled with awe. The admission felt both liberating and surprising, as if you'd just discovered a new facet of yourself.

Hugh's smile widened, his eyes darkening with a mix of pride and desire. "That's because no young man knows how to treat a woman like you," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking your cheek. "You've got so much passion inside you, and I'm just the man to bring it out."

You looked up at him, a playful smile curling your lips. "So, have I changed your mind? Are you not into older women anymore?" you teased, your voice light and flirtatious. Hugh paused for a moment, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. The question seemed to catch him off guard, but his response was swift and sincere.

"Babygirl," he began, a slow smile spreading across his face, "I can only think about your pussy right now." His blunt honesty made your heart flutter, a delicious thrill coursing through you at his words. It was as if nothing else existed for him in that moment but you, and the intensity of his focus made you feel desired in a way you hadn't experienced before.

Still, amidst the raw passion, there was a tenderness in his gaze that reassured you. He reached out, gently cupping your face in his large hands. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft and filled with genuine concern. It was a simple question, but it spoke volumes about the kind of man he was, capable of both dominance and deep care. You nodded, feeling a warm glow spread through your chest.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a sweet, loving kiss. It was a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic passion from moments before, and it left you breathless in an entirely different way. The kiss was tender, lingering, as if he was savouring the moment. When he pulled back, his eyes were warm, a soft smile on his lips.

With gentle hands, Hugh reached down to pull your panties back on, his touch careful and deliberate. He made sure nothing spilled out, his fingers grazing your sensitive skin, sending a shiver through you. As he adjusted the fabric, he leaned down and pressed a light, teasing kiss over your clit through the thin material. The unexpected gesture made you gasp, your body jolting with a mix of surprise and lingering desire.

Your legs felt weak, trembling slightly from the intensity of everything that had just transpired. Hugh chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that made your stomach flip. "Next time, we'll just do it in bed," he said with a smirk, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You couldn't help but laugh, the tension breaking into a shared moment of light-heartedness. The intimacy of the moment, combined with the playful banter, felt like a perfect culmination of the intense connection you shared.

Together, you went back inside while Hugh was holding you bridal style. The cool air giving way to the warmth of the house. The bathroom was steamy as Hugh turned on the shower, the sound of running water filling the space. Without missing a beat, he scooped you back up into his strong arms, cradling you against his chest. His strength was evident as he carried you with ease, his touch reassuring and protective. You wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingertips.

As the warm water cascaded over you both, it felt like a cleansing, a washing away of everything but the present moment. Hugh held you close, his hands roaming your wet skin with a mix of possessiveness and reverence. The water created a curtain around you, isolating you in a cocoon of heat and steam.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he pressed you against the shower wall, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the warmth of his body. His lips found yours in a searing kiss, the water pouring over you both adding to the intensity. It was a hot make out session, his tongue exploring your mouth with a passionate fervour that left you breathless. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as the kiss deepened, turning into something more primal and urgent.

The way he kissed you, hungry, demanding, yet tender—was intoxicating. You felt enveloped by him, his presence overpowering in the best possible way. Every touch, every kiss, was a promise of more to come, a hint at the depths of his desire for you. The water flowed over you, mingling with your sweat, as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment.

As you finally pulled away, gasping for breath, you rested your forehead against his, both of you panting from the intensity of the kiss. Hugh's eyes were dark with desire, a satisfied smirk on his lips. You knew that this was just the beginning, that the connection you shared was far from over. The shower may have been meant to cleanse, but instead, it became another chapter in your shared passion, a testament to the chemistry that crackled between you like an unquenchable fire.

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Taglist:

@melaninjoys @ermlady @haytchee @elloredef

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #marvel #marvel smut #wolverine #wolverine and deadpool #wolverine smut #ryan reynolds

1K notes · View notes

hyunniesgirl · 1 year ago

Text

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

5K notes · View notes

muntitled · 5 months ago

Text

Virginity Files: Enha Edition

▪︎ Summary: how Hyung Line would respond to finding out you're a virgin

▪︎ Cw: Established Relationship, nsfw, virginity kink, Heeseung's part is a little unethical, +18, Minors dni

Heeseung | 희승

Abstinence had never really been a major factor in Heeseung's philosophy. In fact, he believed quite the opposite. Always choosing to forgo self control, in favour of being passionate, hedonistic and sometimes even borderline lecherous in your relationship.

Discussions of sex would plague you early on in your relationship because sexual gratification is something Heeseung refuses to compromise on- and you look too fucking gorgeous in nothing but a simple bathrobe for him to be expected to have pure thoughts.

He kisses up the side of your neck first, with his arms encircling your waist from behind like ivy creeping along the sides of an archaic mansion. You tilt your neck, welcoming his kisses as you rub the rest of your lotion along your forearms, the smell of cocoa butter having dire effects on Heeseung's restraint.

"I could fucking eat you alive," he whispers drunkenly in your ear, causing the sharpest of gasps to leave your throat when you feel his hardened length push up against your ass.

'It's happening' you think idly to yourself as Heeseung's hands crawl up your front until they're dipping into the opening of the robe.

When his fingers make contact with your breasts you freeze and Heeseung groans as he dips his head between your neck and shoulder.

He squeezes and tweaks your nipple, his cock growing impossibly harder when he feels your nipples turn to hardened peaks.

"Fuck-" he whispers before dragging you down onto the bed. Your body is limp and unresponsive when Heeseung hovers over you, your back pressed against the comforter as he inspects the expanse of your body with his large domineering hands.

You should've known what you were getting into with a guy like Heeseung.

He lives, eats and breathes sex.

How could you ever be so dumb?

"I need to touch you," he whispers, undoing the belt of your robe.

"You'll be good for me?" He asks- but his movements stop when your hand on his, stops all movements.

"I haven't had sex yet-"

Heeseung only blinks once before flashing you that dazzling smile. "Well obviously we haven't had sex yet- that's what I'm trying to correct."

"Ever. Heeseung." You release a shaky breath. "I mean ever."

It only takes a maximum of 15 infuriating seconds before Heeseung continues to slowly undo the knot of your belt as he says, "Would it be unethical if I said I'm more hard now than I've ever been?”

Jay | 제이

The idea of sex comes pretty early on in the relationship because it's all Jay could ever think about in your presence. Sex had never been anything monumental in his previous relationships- it had always been exceedingly casual, like a mutual business transaction with both parties guaranteed to step away from the venture wholly satisfied.

But here Jay is, on his knees in front of you like a martyr at the altar.

The blazer he had worn is discarded somewhere around him but all that plagues his mind is evil, diabolical thoughts of you. He looks completely wrecked as he kisses up the sides of your legs, his dress shirt half unbuttoned with his sleeves rolled up to his forearms. At the start of the evening he had looked dapper, not a single hair out of place and not a single wrinkle on the prada shirt. Ready to meet your patent.

But for you… here, he's a mess.

"What has gotten i-into you?"

You dig your hands into his hair, urging him to stand up but all he does is groan and nuzzle his face further between your thighs.

"You know how beautiful you looked tonight?” he breathes, lifting the fabric to reach more skin, “It was torture having to save face for your parents but secretly wanting to eat you out the whole the night-"

Jay punctuates his mind numbing confession by lifting the ends of your dress and ducking underneath. He hooks his fingers into the sides of your lace underwear and he pulls-

"Jay, stop-"

"Why?" His voice cracks under the weight of his own desire, and he peaks up from under your dress to look up at you with pleading eyes. "Baby, just let me taste you." Your heart shatters. "I know we haven't done anything, and that's fair- maybe you don't trust me yet- I don't know-" as Jay speaks all you can do is shake your head, "But I'm fucking attracted to my girlfriend- I need to be inside of you, I need to taste you and fuck you and hold you-"

"I'm a virgin."

Jay's rambling dissolves into complete and utter silence and you're left to watch as he sits back on his haunches, completely mystified.

"What?"

"That's why we haven't done anything- I-"

Your words of embarrassment completely dissolve in your throat once Jay ducks under the skirts of your dress once more, sending your heart into complete overdrive.

"Tonight's the night then,"

Is all he says with the mission of eating you out with absolute ardour.

Jake | 제이크

Being in a relationship with a boy made of literal prince tendencies meant there were a lot of lecherous acts that you had to coax out of him. When you and Jake first shared your first kiss under New Year's fireworks he had tenderly placed his hand on your cheek as if your skin was forged of porcelain and he muttered, "Is this okay?” Those three words haunted your relationship to the point that you feared your boyfriend saw you as less of a girlfriend, and more a fragile, precious thing he coveted.

These thoughts spin in your head as Jake rubs circles on your inner thigh through the duration of your Friday-night movie.

You couldn't focus on Toy Story 2 because Jake's large hand and its glorious callouses left nothing but goosebumps in their wake, and you're completely and utterly brimming with energy when you pause the movie to gain his attention.

"Can we kiss?" You ask.

You're not sure why you ask but this running theme of always seeking for consent I'd a habit that is difficult to shake off.

"Fuck, if I wasn't thinking about it for the passed hour," he replies before scooping you into his arms. "Get over here."

You're straddling his hips and his mouth crashes against yours, eliciting an unsteady moan from the confines of your throat.

Jake is such an eager kisser. Always eager to please.

Always eager to do good for you. It's like he was purposely trying to kiss away every other guy you may have come into contact with.

If only he knew how embarrassingly small that list really is.

"Woah- Bunny, what're you doing?" Jake's hands are still on the soft sides of your hips when you grind down against his length. You're both fully clothed but the intention of your actions is very much clear. He curls his arms around you as if urging you to stop, but his steadily hardening cock gives him away.

"F-Fuck," he curses under his breath finally relenting and choosing to lean back against the couch as you grinded down against him. He watches you with hooded eyes. "This is how you're feeling tonight, yeah?"

Your bottom lip clamps between your teeth, "Yeah..." and it completely erupts a wave of arousal in the pits of Jake's stomach.

"You want Jake to take care of you?" It's the way in which he says it, like every word had to be meticulously asked in order for you to understand the severity of the situation. It made you feel silly, and juvenile and so incredibly blissful.

"P-please," you whine, locking your arms behind the back of his neck as you grind down harder against the bulge in his pants. "I'm ready."

"What- like ready, ready." Instead of admiring how cute your boyfriend is, all you're able to do is bury your face in the crook of his neck.

"I'll take good care of you." He says eventually, with his large hand rubbing soft circles into your back. "Jake'll take good care of you..."

You need him to make you feel good and that alone has him soaring along the silver lined clouds.

Sunghoon | 성훈

Unlike the rest of Sunghoon's meticulously planned life, falling helplessly in love with you- and then your body- had been something to hit him quite unsuspectingly.

You stormed into his life, and shook up every aspect of his fully functional brain, making him question just how good of an idea it was to invite you to live with him. Seeing as you two were quickly becoming a serious ensemble, Sunghoon knew the time to solidify the relationship was quickly approaching, still, it caught him wholly by surprise when you admitted your inexperience under the soft glow of his overhead light. Wine intermixed with saliva lay on both your lips due to the sweet, drunken kisses you've exchanged on the couch. Sunghoon didn't mean to get handsy. He rarely does.

In fact, Sunghoon prides himself on his restraint when it comes to you. Seeing you, however, in this space, amongst his things, as if you were a part of his property... he lowered the wine glass onto the coffee table to swoop you into his arms.

"D-Did you hear what I said?" You felt embarrassed to have to admit to being a virgin but somehow you felt that consent was needed. Perhaps he may not be completely comfortable being made subject to the daunting task of being someone's 'first'.

"W-We don't have to do this?" You try to whisper. You try to push him away by his chest but his teeth sink into the crook of your neck drawing a heightened gasp out of the confines of your throat.

"We should get you ready first," he whispers instead, knocking all the air out of your lungs in one fell swoop. His hands glide down over your silk pyjamas until he's cupping your sex- the most private, most vulnerable parts of you. "We'll go slow." Sunghoon said with his nose still buried in your neck as he snuck his hand down your pants. You were a gasping mess, so unused to the feeling of it being someone else's hand on that particular spot.

"Just relax, Baby,"

"Sunghoon-"

"Right here," he whispered, drinking in your gasps like they were the finishing remains of crimson red wine. "I'm right here,"

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maiko-san · 10 months ago

Text

Catnap + Dogday x Reader ( Part 2 )

<<< Part 1 , Part 3 >>>

Relationship: Fluff

Character focused: Dogday, Fem! Reader

Plot : You're giving Dogday a groom after he got himself covered in mud.

A/n : I will try to include the other Smiling Critters in here, they deserve love too.

A month has passed and things went on normally with your life. All the Smiling Critters get a minor check up everyday either by you or other coworkers.

These mascots work with children 24/7, they often are climbed on, tugged around or have paints/food stuck on their fur.

"I guess that's all of it"

"Oooh! My mane looks even prettier and shiny than before!"

You just finished cleaning up Craftycorn from all the glitters and paint off her white coat and cyan hair. Which took you half an hour to clean.

You put on a pink bow on her braided mane so she looks cuter.

"I really love how you do my mane! You know, we should do this more often! You're so creative, just like ME!"

" *chuckles* I'm glad that you like it, Craftycorn but I am NOT that creative as you are"

You dismiss the unicorn and give a handful of candy for her to enjoy. You call in the other mascot and Dogday pops his head in.

The dog is covered in mud from head to toe.

"Now, what did you get yourself into this time, Dogday?"

It was the third time this week.

Dogday only looks away, both hands on his back as he kicks his feet.

"KickinChicken and I got carried away while playing football, sorry..." /he lied.

You quirk an eyebrow, you know Dogday is really bad at lying. There are no muds at the football field since the field has fake grass carpet.

You wonder where he got all the mud from....oh well.

To Dogday, he likes being around you and wants to see you everyday but the other staff members didn't let him. Not even for a bit.

So the only way for the smiling critters to see you was to getting themselves dirty, either by accident or on purpose.

For Dogday, he did it on purpose so he could see you.

You usher the mascot on to the large bathtub so you could wash him up. You run the warm water over his body and rinsing the mud from his fur.

You know that they can clean themselves up but they seem to prefer having you to clean them.

It's a lot of work to clean a two story high mascot but it's fun.

You and the smiling critters would have a conversation, sometimes the smiling critters would tell them about their days.

Like a child telling their parents what they do at school.

"How's your day at the play care today?"

"It's really fun! We do a lot of things!"

"Oh, really? Tell me all about it. I'm curious"

"We play tag, we play hide n seek, we play red light green light with everyone! It was fun!"

"Did you have fun playing football with KickinChicken?"

"Oh, yes I did! The football was fun but what's even more fun is when you play in the mud!"

"Oh, really? KickinChicken just came a few hours ago and he told me he had fun playing skateboard"

"I—"

"Ha! Gotcha!"

You smirk as Dogday hangs his head down slightly. You scrub off the dirt from his ear and tell him that it's fine if he wants to see you.

Just don't get himself dirty all the time.

"The other staffs doesn't let me see you..."

"And why is that?"

"They said you stole their work...."

"....."

Recently your coworker has been glaring behind your back, gossiping and telling you to quit your job. Saying you were proud of your work which you never at all.

It is not entirely your fault that the mascots prefer you over them.

You knew how these mascots were treated before. It was during your interview at the playcare and your manager gave you a tour around the place.

You witnessed how the maintenance workers strapped these mascots in a tiny space and treated them like a wild animal.

"It is our fault wasn't it?"

"No, it's not. I'll deal with that matter myself and it is not yours to worry, alright"

You gave the canine mascot an assuring pat on the head which he leans into and his tail wagging behind him. You continue with your work and dry him in the blower machine and then you begin to groom his fur.

You notice that his fur had gotten longer by the day, so you decide to give him a little trim.

You hold his large paw, combing out the matted fur and snip some of them so it looks neat.

You did the same thing with his ears and chests.

Dogday watches you do you work, out of all staffs in this place. You are the nicest and the most gentle out of all staffs. You never strap them down or keep them in a small cage.

You treat them like a real person.

Like they used to be.

Dogday wants more from you, he wants to feel loved by someone. Someone that cares for him and everyone's well being unlike those scientists....

You care for him, so he will do the same to you.

You are his angel, after all....

"Alright, everything's done!"

You fix his collar and give his pendant a little shine. You decide to wrap a red scarf around his neck to compliment his orange colour.

"Is this for me, angel?"

"Yeah, it suits you well"

Dogday brings you into a tight hug, with his tail wagging aggressively behind his back. It seems the canine couldn't contain his excitement.

I mean, who doesn't like gifts? Especially from someone you like!

"Thank you! I will cherish it, always!"

"You're welcome, bud"

A/n : Since the first chapter received a good amount of views, here is the second chapter for all of you, sweeties!

I will assume that Dogday is the oldest out of all Smiling Critters, maybe around 13-15. We don't have a clue who Dogday really is but I decided to make him one of the older orphans.

Also, all the Smiling Critters in my stories share sibling relationships! and the reader is their oldest sibling or maybe parent figure! ☺️

#poppy playtime x reader #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime #dogday #dogday x reader #catnap x reader #various x reader #fluff relationship #platonic relationship #Reader is a parental figure #catnap #smiling critters #smiling critters x reader #craftycorn #bobby bearhug #bubba bubbaphant #hoppy hopscotch #kickinchicken #picky piggy

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reiderwriter · 6 months ago

Text

🫂 Transference 🫂

Pairing: Spencer Reid x virgin!Fem Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Summary: He saves your life, and he keeps saving it every day, but Spencer won't let you love him until you finally beg him to. Is transference really that much of an issue?

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, Mentions of Case details - reader is the unsub victim, mentions of rape and attempted rape, gunshot, death, kidnapping, imprisonment, parental neglect, abandonment, loss of virginity (positive), semi-public sex, bathroom sex, fingering, penetrative sex (p in v), missionary, praise kink (good girl), moaning kink (?), safe sex, slight cum play/ oral, aftercare.

A/N: I wrote a virgin reader fic for kinktober that people loved a lot (thank you all!), and I had a lot of requests for something similar, so please - enjoy!

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You'd met him at the library, as if the world wanted you to forever associate the comfort you found in between the pages of a worn book with the man that tried to end your life. At first, you'd thought it a coincidence, then he'd flashed a smile at you, and you'd believed it to be fate, drawn in by the charm he wore as a disguise.

Your first date was sweet, flowers and dinner. Your second date was sweeter, and they kept on that way. Sugar dropped into your ears until you were floating on cloud nine, right as he turned his charm off.

“Really?” He started one day, his tone accusing from the get-go.

“What?”

“You're really going to eye fuck that man in front of me?” His voice was loud enough to catch notice in the small café you'd joined him in for the morning, and all the life drained out of your face.

“I'm not- what?”

“No, forget it,” he chuffed, taking another sip of his drink and turning away from you.

You noticed it more and more from then on, how he would accuse you of small things like looking at other men, like you had the choice to ignore them when they were shop clerks, bus drivers and just fucking people living their lives.

Your friends were even weirded out when you joked with them about it, telling them all about your silly boyfriend who ripped a poster off your wall because it had some actor or singer or something on it. It wasn't even that important to you, but as you laughed, you were greeted with silence, with sideways glances and concerning questions.

It was all starting to crumble, and there was nothing you could do to stop it but cling on.

The next thing was his pushiness. You'd been up front with him at the beginning of the relationship that you were a virgin, something that he was more than happy about.

He'd said it was because he was a man of God, and he understood your commitment, which confused you as you weren't a virgin for religious reasons. But you brushed it off as everything else about him was so… gentlemanly?

Until he started pushing his hands up your thighs when he kissed you. He tried multiple times to push his fingers into your underwear as you tried to pull back, each time apologizing immediately when you displayed more panicked displeasure.

“I'm sorry, something must have… The devil got to me for a second there, Y/N, but I won't let him win.” He kissed the top of your head, and he walked you to your door before giving you another chaste kiss and leaving.

They found the first body the next morning.

She was young, maybe 16 or 17. Beaten, raped, mutilated, and asphyxiated. They said he'd kept raping her body long after she'd taken her last breath. It took them two weeks to notify her parents because of the way he'd left her.

You'd watched the news report the same week with your boyfriend, shocked and horrified at the news and cuddling closer to him for comfort.

Each step you came closer to him, each time you allowed him to touch you, he took it as a sign of his ownership, his claim on you. Not a single other person could get in between him and his prize. Each time you rejected him, he killed another girl.

By body five, they'd called in the BAU.

“Did you hear they're bringing in the FBI to solve that Cathy Renaud case? It's all over the news. Apparently, the team is super special.”

You'd brought up the words while cooking him breakfast. He didn't live with you, but any good girlfriend would feed their man, so he woke you up every day on his way to work to let you prepare him something.

His whole attention was on his phone, though, as he nodded through your conversation, grunting and moaning at each word.

It was only when you brought him his plate of pancakes that you realized that he was just as interested in the subject as you were. Because he was staring at the photos of the girl he mutilated the night before.

You didn't want to think about everything that happened after that. After the plate fell to the floor and cracked, splintering into your foot and causing you your first injury in a long line.

You didn't want to think about the things he showed you, the way he touched you, or at least tried to. You heaved and wretched and emptied your stomach every single time you thought about the restraints on your wrists, how he'd tried to rape you but couldn't bring himself to do it because you weren't young enough anymore. You weren't dead enough.

Instead, every time you thought back to that week, you found yourself back at the end. You replayed the bullet lodging into his brain as a comfort, which told you more than you needed to know about your mental state. It was Spencer Reid who'd shot him. He'd been quick enough to realize that the man would never have been talked down, and he'd fired the shot as a mercy to you. He may have killed your boyfriend, putting him down like he was a sick animal, but you were the one put out of your misery.

He didn't stop to watch the body hit the floor before falling to your side, the other agents clearing the room and checking the corpse. He'd helped you to your feet, drawn an arm around your waist and pushed your head into his chest so you didn't have to see the carnage on the way out, didn't have to deal with the camera flashes as the press scrambled for pictures of the monster's willing victim.

“One step at a time, this isn't your fault. Just stick with me,” he said, moving you from the house to a waiting van as you clasped his vest desperately, needing the lifeline he'd thrown you.

“Ma'am, ma'am. I'm a paramedic, I won't hurt you, I just need to take your vitals, make sure you're okay.”

The voice was vague and in the distance, and you were so sure it wasn't directed at you that you simply let yourself wrap around the man who'd saved you when you got to the ambulance. Nothing else was around but his chest, his hand on your back, your legs wrapped around him as they finally gave out.

“Ma'am… Please, you're injured-”

“Y/N,” he spoke finally, and you grabbed him tighter, nails digging into the skin at his neck.

“You're Y/N, right? We've been looking for you for a long time. I'm not going anywhere, I won't let anyone hurt you.”

The words were enough to reassure you, pulling back slightly as the paramedics began working on you, but not enough for you to embrace their touch. You clambered away from the paramedic the moment you saw he was a man, close in build and coloring to the corpse in the building behind you.

You screamed, you cried, you pounded at the doors as Spencer held to you him, letting the paramedics sedate you, rocking you to sleep on the step of the emergency vehicle.

He was by your bedside every time you woke up, too. It was funny seeing him there when you still didn't know his name. Your parents hadn't visited, too ashamed to be associated with the entire thing to even check in on you.

He had himself assigned your emergency contact after six days of your parents not showing up. In all that time, he'd sat patiently by your side as you wailed and raged and went numb, and the cycle repeated itself in perpetuity.

He was there, too, with a bag of clothes and a fresh start waiting for you when you were ready to be discharged.

His team had since moved on to another criminal of the week, putting the lives lost behind them as they traipsed through more cases and corpses and killers. He was still there, though. Somehow.

You were old enough to be able to discharge yourself from a hospital, old enough to not need a guardian to take care of you. Spencer stayed anyway, and you didn't bother asking why.

“I don't want to leave the hospital,” you said, climbing back into the bed you'd forced yourself into for the last week. The same bed where the nurse had ran your rape kit even after you'd told her he'd never touched you like that, after you'd explained and denied and shouted to high hell that no-one had touched you like that and she sure as hell wasn't going to be the first.

Spencer had put a stop to the traumatic experience when he'd returned with your coffee, always picking up something for you when he went out.

The nurse had gripped and moaned and murmured an apology, and you knew you'd not been an easy patient, but you couldn't bring yourself to feel bad about it.

That didn't mean you wanted to leave yet, though.

“I can't leave, I have nowhere to live.”

“Y/N, you can't stay here forever.”

“Spencer, I can't go home. My apartment is a crime scene, I almost died there, and there are reporters posted there 247 waiting for me to come back. They think I'm evil, they-”

“They think you're a victim,” he said calmly but firmly, cutting you off before you could spiral again. “Which you are. And you'll be a victim forever if you don't get out of that hospital bed and start moving on.”

He dumped a bag on your bed, a bag you recognised as one of your own overnight bags from your apartment. He looked at you again, the question in his silence.

Are you going to keep being his victim?

You huffed as you got out of your bed, throwing off the covers and standing in front of him. He didn't budge.

“Well?” You asked, looking at him as he stood still, not moving even an inch.

“Well, what?” He replied, eyebrows knitting.

Instead of replying, you rolled your eyes and reached behind you to the ties in your hospital gown, opening it until you could pull it off your body before pulling out the clothes he'd left in the bag.

You didn't glance at him again until you were fully naked, readying your underwear so you could pull it on. When you turned back to him, his gaze knocked the wind out of you.

You'd stopped feeling like a woman the minute he'd carried out of that room. You were a child, a fragile doll, a specimen to be studied. For some of the nurses, you were an infection they could catch.

Spencer Reid, against his better judgment, was looking at you like you were a woman. Like you were the object of his every desire.

“S-Spencer…” you said suddenly feeling the shame and embarrassment of being naked suddenly in front of another person. You pulled the sweatshirt he'd packed you over your torso, covering all of your intimate areas as you stammered out your apology.

“I- shit, I'm sorry-”

“I'll wait - I’ll wait outside. If you need anything you can… you can do whatever.” He said, dragging his eyes off of your body and letting them fall anywhere that you weren't. His eyes darted from the floor to the wall, to the air next to your head and finally to the door where he took himself out.

You dressed in a hurry and followed him.

“Spencer? Spencer, I'm ready,” you said, running down the hall to him and grabbing his arm, holding it for support and comfort, but mostly just to be close.

Since waking up from that first sedation of many in those first few days, you hadn't been more than a few hours without having him hold you.

His team had sent many warning looks watching you wrapped around him like a scared child, hiding behind him like a small, shaking dog. You hadn't seen a problem in it, truly clinging to him like a lifeline.

After whatever the hell had just happened in your hospital room, though? Now you felt each solid ridge of him. You hadn't felt like a woman, sure but you equally hadn't acknowledged Spencer as a man until then. A very attractive man.

The stubble on his jaw only made it sharper. His gentle, curving eyes, cut at the corners by the start of laugh lines, his mouth straight and… and kissable. For the first time in months, definitely for the first time since you'd met your monster, maybe even for the first time ever, desire heated the depths of your stomach.

Your breath hitched, and you held him tighter as he led you out of the ward and ushered you into your new life.

“We're not going to your apartment. Your landlord released you from the lease for…obvious reasons after some persuading. Your parents-”

“My parents?” You asked in disgusting, halting in the hall. For the first time since you'd left the room, he had to turn and look you in the eyes. He'd done his best to dampen the desire, but some part of you still recognised it, even as your logical brain fought to be heard.

“Your parents agreed to fund three months in a new apartment. After which time, you will have a job and some stability, so you'll be able to pay for it yourself.”

You tried to argue and tried to talk back, but your tongue was thick.

A new apartment. Living alone, being alone, for any amount of time, felt daunting.

But Spencer took one more step towards the door and then another, and you had no choice but to walk with him, hand slipping down and grasping his like it was your lifeline.

The drive to whatever new apartment your parents had leased for you was silent, and the storms in your head grew until they'd taken up so much space they erupted forth, darkening the actual skies. A crash of thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance just as he pulled into the building. Luckily for you, there was underground parking, so you didn't even need to contemplate letting the lightning hit you.

There was one space left, and Spencer pulled his car in, flipping the engine off and getting out without another word.

He led you up the stairs, then he led you to your floor, then he led you to your door and handed you the keys.

You felt cold as you opened the doors, knowing you were about to confront items of boxes that had watched you be burned, cut, slapped, beaten.

There were no boxes behind the door. Everything had, to your shock, been unboxed and staged already.

You recognised magnets on the fridge, stuffed animals on the bed when you made your way to your bedroom. Your toiletries were neatly tidied into your medicine cabinet, hell, even your bookshelves had your own dog-eared copies of books well past their prime.

You had every comfort and joy without having to push yourself through the pain of thinking about where these items had last been kept.

There were new things too. The couch was definitely second-hand, but it wasn't the one you'd brought at Goodwill the week after your college graduation. That one was stained red, no doubt, somewhere in a tip. There was bedding and sheets and blankets and plates and forks and knives - a whole household of items that someone had chosen.

You turned back to Spencer and cried. You buried your face in his chest and wrapped yourself around him again as he held you.

And then, realizing he'd been the one to orchestrate this, if not the one who had arranged everything himself, you pushed up on the balls of your feet, and you kissed him.

For the few seconds it lasted, it was brilliance. The pressure on your lips after a second had your heart singing as he kissed you back, your hands balling into his shirt as you stepped closer and closer, needing to be wrapped around him, buried in safety and warmth.

He pulled back and stepped out of your reach too quickly, the back of his hand reaching up to his mouth as if checking that it was still there, that he'd actually just been kissing you back.

“Y/N, you don't…we can't do that.”

“Do what?” You said, creeping forward, needing to feel him beside you again.

“You're not… you don't feel about me the way you think you feel about me,” he said, pushing your hair behind your ear as you wrapped your arms around his waist again.

“How do I feel?”

“Grateful. Y/N, this is gratitude. I saved you, and so you think you are in love with me. It's called transference, and you will deeply, deeply regret this one day.”

The urgency in his tone had you flinching, even if he was trying to talk to you as softly as possible. For a moment, you'd done as he'd asked and forgotten you were a victim. It was apparently something he himself would not forget anytime soon.

You stood around awkwardly for another minute or two.

“What…what now?” You asked, avoiding the kiss and whatever lay in that direction.

“I'll walk you through the emergency contact numbers. The apartment building is pretty old, so there's a wall phone in the kitchen, but there are some modern amenities, too. The laundry room is on the first floor, next to the porters office. I'm in apartment 23 on the second floor, and-”

“What?” Your entire body buzzed, hearing him speak, and you almost forgot to breathe, rushing to stand straight again.

“I… I live on the floor below,” he said, almost cautiously now that you'd thrown yourself at him. “I thought you might enjoy the company.”

He gave you a weak smile and you wanted to kiss him all over again, to press your lips again and again into the soft flesh of his skin, his lips, his nose, his cheeks, his neck, his chest.

You wanted him to hold you. You stood by the sofa and let your grip on a cushion tighten to stop from throwing yourself at him again. One rejection was enough for the day.

Not that you stopped in the weeks to come.

Spencer had himself relegated to office work for the first month as you rode out the waves of your grief, sticking by his side for comfort.

Your friends came and went, but they wore the stench of ‘I told you so’ and ‘I saw that coming,’ and you suffocated on it after so long.

Every day after he returned home, you arrived at him door and threw yourself into his open arms, sitting with him for hours. Most days, you read together, ignoring that the man flipped pages three times as fast as you did. Some nights, you watched shows or movies, making your way through three companions worth of “New Who” in a week.

Each time you came, he took care of your food, ordering or cooking simple pasta dishes for you.

He told you about the time his coworker had taught him how to make the perfect pasta, berating him for putting oil in his pasta water, and damn near drawing his weapon while he made sure he salted it.

You laughed together and ate together, and you forgot together.

Your life was back to normal when you got your first job interview. It's nothing spectacular, but it was enough that it would pay the bills to the apartment whose lease is a ticking bomb counting down to 0. It was a normal office, where you would be doing normal work that you had absolutely done before.

The interview was normal, the female employee that meets you first reassuring you that the company is safe, their employees vetted and supported.

And the company makes feminine hygiene products anyway, so they don't attract too many men, or at least none like the monster you'd known.

All in all, the interview went well.

It went well all the way until you reached the bus stop. You felt eyes on you, watching your movements, but you couldn't see anyone else focusing on you particularly.

You felt the stares on the bus, and the stares when you got off the bus two stops early. You felt the stares walking around the block three times to throw whatever was following you around off your track. You felt the stares as you sat outside Spencer's apartment until 6:45pm, when he came home and found you there. Your interview had been at 1pm.

“Y/N, what's wrong?” He said, immediately holding you and guiding you into the apartment.

Your anxiety and fear had settled into self-loathing and disappointment. You let him hold you quietly, rejecting food and conversation.

You sat quietly with him on his sofa as he held a book in one hand, stroking your hair with another as you laid on his chest.

The emotions of the day were overwhelming, consuming the part of your brain that had started being happy again for the first time. You grew angry at the sadness for seeping back in, and in an act of rebellion, you pushed back up and kissed Spencer once more.

His brain was slower to react this time, even if his body wasn't.

You straddled his hips as your lips joined his, melting together in a hot embrace. He dropped his book quickly, hand resting on your hip as the one that had been stroking your hair angled your jaw up so he could set the pace.

All your emotions were swept away in a wave of desire as you slowly rubbed against him, butt shifting as you clumsily followed your arousal past your worldly knowledge.

You couldn't even think about what was next because your tongue was clashing with Spencer's, and your brain was short circuiting.

The second you let out your first whimper of pleasure, he pushed you away and stood up, crossing the room to put distance between you, just as he had a month beforr.

“Y/N, you had a bad day, but this isn't… This isn't how you should make yourself feel better.”

“Spencer-”

“I told you about transference before, Y/N, you need to listen to me. I'm not… I'm not the one for you.” His voice shook as he ran his hands through his hair in stress, body tense in a way that informed you he was holding himself back.

“Transference. Transference…” You sat upright on his couch and let all the logic rush back into your brain at once.

“Y/N?” He asked, voice shaking as he watched you zone out of the conversation, almost afraid that he'd damaged you again.

“Is there… Is there something wrong with transference?” You asked, voice impossibly calm as you still stared straight forward.

He moved towards you again and knelt at the floor in front of you, clutching your hands in his.

“Y/N, you don't really want me like that, you don't, you can't-”

“Love you?” You asked, your voice finally breaking, eyes finally meeting his.

It was as if you knocked the wind out of him. He sat there completely dumbstruck.

“It might not be love, okay, I'll admit that. But you're… you're strong and smart, and you take care of me. And you're attractive, and you make me happy, which is something I didn't think I'd ever be again-”

“Y/N, something happened to you today, and you threw yourself at me. You threw yourself at me when you moved into your apartment. You felt stressed, and you reacted, Y/N. You don't love me.”

You sat calmly listening to his words again, your body still aching for his touch, your heart still pounding in your chest.

“Okay. Okay. So if I do…this when I'm not feeling vulnerable, then what? Then you'll believe me?”

“Y/N…” he sighed in defeat, hand again raking through his hair.

You grabbed your things and stood up off the couch, bending to press another kiss to his lips before you parted.

He was shocked silent, but that didn't stop him from chasing your lips as you rose, rising to his knees and then his feet as you walked away from him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, Spencer. Get some sleep,” you said, letting yourself out or the apartment and carrying yourself, heavy and dejected, upstairs.

If Spencer was anticipating seeing you again the next morning, he wasn't anticipating seeing you in his office.

“Spencer,” you called out as you walked into the bullpen, clipping your visitors badge into place again, making sure it wasn't crooked.

Immediately, he stood from his desk and rose to meet you, ignoring the looks from his coworkers as his hands landed on your arms, immediately checking on you.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He whispered, checking for tears, or injuries, or something to show him your motive for seeking him out.

You just smiled at him, brushing a hair behind your ear when you saw him hesitate making that same gesture.

“I was summoned. They need my statement to corroborate your weapon discharge paperwork, and Agent Hotchner called earlier.”

His hands dropped as he breathed a steady sigh of relief, trying to make his reaction smaller than he knew it was. He was afraid something had happened to you again, and he was so caught up in his relief, that he didn't notice you moving closer until your lips were on his cheek and you were waving him off as you ascended the stairs to Hotch's office with your escort.

“Spencer,” Morgan's voice called from behind him, and he turned hesitantly.

“What was that?”

He felt the eyes on him, and he pushed all thoughts of you to the side in place of total rationality.

“I explained transference to her but… she doesn't seem to - she doesn't care.”

“Spencer the last time I saw that girl, she was practically the walking dead. She just smiled.” Morgan said, shaking his head. But Spencer was watching you, and not his friend, and really, he wasn't even listening.

“Spencer? Spencer?” Morgan said again, rising to get in the man's face some more until he finally looked at him again.

“She thinks she's in love with me.”

“How do you know she isn't?”

You kept working on him, little by little, day by day, until Spencer's field work started again.

A little part of you was sad that he wouldn't always be around every day anymore. But you'd got that job and got over yourself as you started going out more. You made friends at your office, and you went out and laughed and joked with old college roommates. You felt like a human being again, and to no one's surprise, you still wanted Spencer Reid.

He left every Monday on a case, and by the time Wednesday rolled around, you missed him. Going out to drinks with some coworkers after clocking off certainly didn't sate your appetite for him.

“Spencer,” you said, breathily into the phone when he picked up, throwing yourself onto your bed.

“Y/N, what happened? Is everything alright? Do you need me to come back?”

“No, Spencer, I just-” you hiccupped and giggled before continuing. “I just missed you so much.”

The silence on the line was suddenly so funny to you, and you giggled again. Feeling hot, you stripped down to your underwear and started talking again.

“I miss cuddling up to you and crawling all over you. You're really soft, you know?” You sighed, hands trailing up and down your stomach lightly.

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

“I miss your face. I'm switching to video call,” you announced and fumbled with your phone.

“No, Y/N, wait-” he said, but pulling the phone away from his ears, he realized his protests were too late to matter as he took in your half-naked form.

Though your face took up the majority of the view on the camera, he could see the soft trim of your lace bra poking into the camera, and the generous push of cleavage your angle facilitated to boot.

Checking around him for people looking, he tucked himself into a corner and scowled back at you.

“Y/N, this isn't a game. Turn the call off and go to bed.”

“But I miss you,” you whined.

“Y/N,” he hissed, eyes falling to your hands where you'd begun massaging your heavy breasts.

“When are you coming home?” You asked, whining again like a petulant child as the alcohol flushed through your system, bringing all of your desires to the forefront.

“Soon,” he said, not trusting himself to say more than a word.

“Good. Because I miss you. Spencer, I- I think I want to have sex with you.”

His eyes shut as he tried to remain calm even as your words rang in his ears from 1000 miles away.

“We'll talk soon, Y/N. Good night,” he closed, finally hanging up and covering his face in his hands. He made his way quickly to his motel room, threw his phone down on his bed, and ignored as best he could his throbbing cock in his pants and the three pictures you'd sent him since he hung up.

He didn't resist for long.

Three nights later, you found yourself at a bar, living life to the fullest. You'd taken back to society like a swan to water, and you weren't letting the stern words of Spencer Reid keep you down. Knocking back another shot, you smiled and cheered with your friends until you felt the eyes on you again. It was different this time, though, hotter, and closer. You turned to look at the door and saw Spencer Reid and the other people who'd saved your life walking to a booth. It was Spencer's eyes on you.

You definitely did not believe in a higher power - how could you, after all - but you did believe that this was fate.

You blew him a kiss as he watched you walk back to your table with another cocktail in hand, letting a man who'd been trying to flirt with you earlier follow you to your friends.

When you went for your next drink, you found him at your side in a heartbeat.

“I'm not checking up on you,” he said, even though he was. “I'm ordering a drink.”

“Two drinks,” you said, shooting him a flirty smile as you pressed yourself against him again, chest to chest.

“You're ordering two drinks, Spencer,” you whispered into his ears as his head dropped down to within an inch of your own. The air felt changed, but you refused to move to close the gap. You'd put in the work the last few times. You needed Spencer to be the one to take the chance this time.

He ordered your drinks, and still you didn't move apart, huddled together as if you were whispering conspiracies to one another.

When your drink was firmly in your hand, he grabbed your wrist and led you to a dark corner of the bar. You sipped your drink quickly, managing two swigs before he took it and placed both drinks down - right beside Penelope Garcia - and dragged you out into the hall.

The bathrooms were empty when he pushed you inside, and your heart throbbed as his hands pushed you into a stall, lifted your legs to wrap around him, and then his lips finally crashed into yours.

Transference or whatever else it was supposed to be, you didn't give one shit in that moment as his tongue coaxed your lips apart.

His hands didn't stay in place for long as he dragged them up and down your body, exploring every part he'd memorized from the pictures. Every curve or inch he'd previously held tenderly, gently, he now raked over with the hunger of arousal, pushing your short skirt up until it was past your hips and his fingers could sink into you instead.

You were soaked before he even had one digit inside you, his thumb rubbing roughly against your clit as you turned to jelly in his hands.

You'd masturbated before, sure, you were a grown woman. But the feeling of someone else's hands, someone else's hest, the knowledge that someone else desired you so badly that they'd drag you into a bar bathroom just to sate their lust? That was new, and it was exciting.

His lips covered yours as your legs shook, silencing every moan, every whimper with his tongue. It was wild, messy, your tongues clashing wildly and messily as your hips rocked violently, trying to reach that high, but also trying to make this last past his fingers.

It wasn't to be though as you shuddered around his three digits, your orgasm ripping through you silently, leaving you wide-eyed and wide mouthed.

“We're done,” he said, gently kissing your cheek as be stood you up, letting you stretch out the soreness in your muscles.

“For now?”

“Forever, Y/N. This was a mistake.”

Your heart hit the ground, and he stomped on it, but the anger filling your gut pushed up and out before he could completely bow out.

“No,” you ground out through gritted teeth.

“Y/N, you aren't in love with me. You feel grateful that I saved you, you feel attracted to me because I'm older and you think I can protect you, and a little part of it is that you've always been attracted to men who are dangerous. You're not in love with me, so-”

“You sound like him.”

Shocked, he paused, and his grip on your hips tightened until his nails were biting into your skin.

“What?”

“You're telling me how to feel, you're telling me what to do. You sound like him.”

“Y/N, that is unfair-”

“Unfair is denying that I'd know how I'm fucking feeling to let you wallow in self sacrifice, Spencer. Unfair is playing the martyr when we can both see that you want this as fucking badly as I do.”

You didn't give him a second longer to react, but grabbed him by the wrist and, making sure your skirt was once again in place, pulled him back out of the bathroom and into the club.

Stopping by Penelope, you put his drink in his hand and grabbed yours, downing it quickly. He followed your actions, taking a sip until you were done and slamming your drink back on the table.

Then you kept him moving, pushing doors open, hailing a cab, and climbing in with him hot on your heels.

You kept your grip on him tight until you'd marched him to his apartment. Releasing him, you flattened your back against his door, letting him slowly unlock the door as you spoke to him again finally.

“Do it, Spencer. Be my first.”

It was like he was a different man walking over that threshold. His hand were on your face, his tongue again fighting yours as you stumbled back into the apartment, crashing into the wall, then the coffee table, and then the couch.

You cursed in anger hitting his closed bedroom door and pushed him away to open it yourself, but his arms wrapped around you from the back and he sucked bruises against your neck as his hands grabbed your breasts and squeezed them.

His cock was rigid in his pants, and your body ached for the unknown, the soon to come pleasure that he was to deliver.

He pushed you down onto the bed quickly, and you rolled yourself over, pulling your own dress off as quickly as possible.

“That's my job,” he moaned, meeting your lips again as his hands fell to your underwear once again.

“You have a long to-do list, Spencer, I'm just helping,” you smirked as he kissed you again, your hands shakily working down each button of his shirt as you acted to tear it off of him.

“We have all night,” he replied, fingers once again rubbing at your bundle of nerves, hips pushing up and into his hands.

“No, Spencer. No, we don't. I need you now.”

His mouth covered yours again as you finally, finally got his shirt off, letting him throw it to the floor as you started working on his belt. Your legs spread as he inched closer, sitting between your thighs comfortably as he waited with bated breath for you to finally touch his cock.

You knew what dicks looked like, you knew what they were supposed to feel like, but you never realised you'd want to touch one so fucking badly until his sprung from his pants.

He took your hand and spit in it before you wrapped your fingers around him and felt the heat of his cock pulsing against you.

He was big, long more than girthy, and you wondered how thousands of years of women had managed to survive coupling if this was the weapon meant to numb them into horny submission.

One stroke, and you were a mess, his fingers hooking into you as you flicked your wrist up and down.

You watched his precum rise and swiped it up in one finger, tasting it as he groaned and started thrusting up, fucking your hand as he scissored his fingers inside of you.

He stretched you out, readying you for his thick cock, and you gladly sat there, letting him use you and ready you all at once.

When you were ready, he wrapped his arms around you again, lifting you onto the bed properly and laying you down softly in the sheets. Kneeling to roll on the condom he'd grabbed from his bedside table, you watched in curiosity as you tried to memorize every movement, every second of him sinking into you.

The tears in your eyes were emotion just as much as pain, your heart hammering in your ears as he whispered praise into your ear, dropping confessions like bombs.

“You're taking me so well, Y/N, that's good…” he moaned, pushing in one inch.

“That's it, Y/N, just a little more. I love you, you can do it,” he said, sinking in two more.

“You feel so good, Y/N, made just for me,” he said as he finally hit your limit.

You knew the stretch wasn't the end, and he rested there for a second, letting you get used to him before you lost patience with him.

“Spencer just, just push through,” you grit out, and he did, snapping his hips up just that.inch or two more and sending that spark of pain through you.

In an instant, his lips were on yours, his fingers on your clit, flooding your nerves with pleasure as all you could think of was the pain.

But when the pain faded, there was still him, and his cock neatly sheathed inside of you.

His hips moved languidly at first, his entire body weight pushing down on you, lazily twisting and writhing as of this were just one of your cuddles on the couch.

You whimpered, and he moved faster, and you learnt quickly that your noises and sighs to him were what his praise was to you - motivation.

You moaned, and he picked up his pace, moving faster as you whimpered a lustful ‘yes’ into his ear.

“Good girl, good girl, Y/N, that's it. Good girl,” he repeated, unable to say more as you whimpered and cried under him, speech lost as he split you in half with his dick.

You grew louder, and his cock buried itself deeper, your moans dragged on longer and he picked up speed.

He whispered that you were his perfect little slut, and you jolted in his arms, cumming on his cock and screaming his name.

He kept pumping into you, careful to make sure the condom stayed in place as he finally bottomed out and let pleasure roll through him again.

Coming down from his high, your tongue pushed into his mouth, and you rolled him over, sitting yp on his dick as he watched.

You rose off his cock, letting him stare in wonder as your own arousal dripped off of your skin, his cock coated in arousal, and spit from his fingers and, yes, a little bit of blood.

You crawled back and peeled off the condom, tying It quickly and discarding it before you tasted his cum quickly.

It was just a soft lick, but it had him declaring his love for you again, and you decided that there were very few things you wouldn't do to hear those words.

As delightful as your lips felt, though, he quickly bundled you up and forced you to the bathroom, turning on the taps in the bath and placing you on the toilet before leaving.

Even now, after everything, he was still taking care of you. Maybe especially now.

You finished, and he came back. More stolen kisses and moans and a bath that turned into more later, and you found yourself bundled into his spare clothes and wrapped in his arms on his couch again.

He clicked play on another episode of Doctor Who (you'd finally reached Donna, and he was excitedly introducing you to the new character), and you finally looked up at him again.

“I love you,” you said again, loudly this time, with no fear.

Though his training told him the response he should give, Spencer just looked down at you again and gave in to his heart.

“I love you, too.”

You fell asleep quickly after that, head resting over his heart, the sound of the steady beats lulling you to sleep.

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everyonewooeverywhere · 8 days ago

Text

NSFW | MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED

summary: you can't fail this class or you won't graduate on time, and you'll embarrass your parents. you could go to the tutor that your school so graciously provides...or you could just fuck your prefessor

pairing: professor!yunho x female student!reader

genre: smut | non-idol au | university au

rating: 18+

word count: 3.3k

content/warnings: female reader, pet names (sweetheart, baby, sweet thing), sir/professor kink, unprotected sex, squirting, spitting (spit swallowing), infidelity, age gap (mc is in her early twenties, yunho's in his early 40s), dubcon (coercion), spanking, light bondage, breeding kink, copious amounts of dirty talk

notes: this got out of hand really fast... (and i didn't edit it at all)

"professor—" you gasped, fingers digging in to his linen suit.

his office was dark. the only light coming from the green desk lamp situated behind you. it was well past office hours, but you didn’t see yourself leaving this spot anytime soon.

you’d come to his office after receiving a notification that you were failing his class, a class you needed to pass in order to graduate on time. and you’d been studying so hard and working so late to try and get your grade up but nothing was working.

and when you walking into his office he smiled softly at you, "what seems to be the problem miss l/n?"

a few tears fell from your eyes as you explained to him that you can’t fail this class because then you’d have to take another semester, and you were mortified at the idea of disappointing your parents who were expecting you to start working at their company in a few months.

he looked at you with concern deep in his gaze, "oh sweetheart, why didn't you come to me sooner?" he looked up at you from his desk chair and gestured for you to stand in front of him. "i hate to see one of my favorite students struggle." he reached out for your hand and you slid it into his with little hesitation.

"one of your favorites?" you asked, flattered by the idea that he enjoyed you in his class so much.

he smiled, "of course, sweetheart." his thumb brushed over the tops of your knuckles, "i'd be stupid not to cherish such a bright and beautiful young woman in my class."

the tips of your ears flushed at his flattery, "thank you professor jeong."

"i'm always here to help if you need it," and when he stood up out of his chair he loomed over you. his closeness making you take a step back. your thighs consequentially pressing up against the back of his desk. your hand still in his as he brought it up to his mouth. kissing the backs of your fingers to your palm to your wrist. closing his eyes and taking a deep breath amidst every kiss. "you are so beautiful miss l/n."

"y/n. you can call me y/n." you whispered.

he raised an eyebrow at you. "yeah?" he took another step toward you, making have to grab his arms not to fall backward onto his desk. he leaned his face down to your ear, his breathe soft on your neck, "you seemed to like when i called you 'sweetheart' though."

"professor—"

his lips grazed your ear, "call me 'sir.' you can do that for me, right?"

you nodded, eyes welling up with tears at the anticipation, "yes sir."

a low growl rose out of his chest from you compliance, "god you're so perfect." he pulled back and looked you in the eyes again resting his forehead on yours. his hands started tracing the edge of your skirt, letting his fingers graze your upper thigh, "just a good girl who will do anything to impress her professor and get a good grade, right?"

you averted his gaze, suddenly ashamed about what you were doing here.

"oh sweetheart don't be embarrassed. you're just putting in the effort that your other classmates won't. you came to me for extra help, and i'm gonna give it to you, okay?"

"okay..."

you let yourself melt into the touch of his hands. the soft pads of his fingers caressing your inner thigh. he watched your face intently as you took in his little touches. how you clearly waited in anticipation for him to finally brush his fingers over your pretty lace panties.

he pinched the white frills of your underwear between his fingers. “we’re all alone here sweetheart,” he ran a finger under your jaw, “so you can be as loud as you want. i want to know what feels good.”

“yes sir.”

he leaned back from you for just a moment. hooking a finger under his black tie and pulling it loose. you bit your lip as you watched him unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and roll his sleeves up around his forearms.

when he leaned back in, he pressed his forehead to yours. "fuck i wonder what you taste like," his hand cupped the fabric over your already dripping pussy, and you rolled your hips to grind against it. "i bet you taste like fucking heaven. what if i just..." he pulled your panties aside, running his middle and ring fingers through your folds. he hummed in delight, "oh you feel so perfect, sweetheart." he kissed your cheek, "i can't wait to sink my cock into this perfect pussy."

a pathetic moan rose out of your throat, "please—"

he smiled softly and let his lips brush over yours. the tips of his fingers pressing into your soft cunt. "oh you sweet thing," he finally lifted you up onto his desk, letting your skirt rise up on your thighs, "be patient, and your professor will give you just what you need baby."

he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them up to his lips. looking deep into your eyes as his licked your wetness off of them a string of his saliva sticking to the tips when he pulled them out. "oh i was so right. you taste like heaven sweetheart." he pressed a long kiss to your lips. letting his tongue pass over yours so you could taste yourself on his mouth, "you taste like you were made for me."

he eyed the white button-down you had tucked into your little skirt. his fingers delicately popped open the buttons. unwrapping you like his perfect, pliant little toy. his hands brushed over your shoulders as he slid the shirt off your skins. he pulled it out of your waistband and tossed it behind him.

"you're so fucking beautiful," he cupped your breasts. that were still partially covered by the white sheer lace of your bra. his thumbs lightly circled your nipples that were fully visible through the mesh. you watched as his tongue came out and licked his lips. like he was on the edge of eating a meal he'd been waiting on a long time.

"you dressed up for me today, didn't you?"

you nodded, biting your lip to try and hold yourself together, "do you like it, professor? i picked it out just for you."

"oh you're just the sweetest thing aren't you?" his hand slid around to your back, "it's so beautiful but i think—" he pinched the clasp and let in come undone and fall into your lap, "i like you much better without it."

the cold air of his office caressed your chest, making your nipples harden. you shivered at the sudden feeling.

he placed his hands on your knees, "play with them for me, sweetheart."

the request threw you off guard, your eyebrows scrunched in confusion, "huh?"

"play with your tits for me. i wanna see how you touch yourself," he leaned in close to you, "do this for me, and i reward you, okay sweetheart?'

"yes, sir," and you hesitantly cupped them in your hands. massaging them as he watched your chest intently.

"that's it. roll your nipples for me," his hands slid up your thighs. your back arched into him as you pinched your sensitive nipples between your fingers. you let out a soft moan. "good girl." he hooked his fingers into the waistband of you panties, "lets get these off of you."

and you lifted your hips so he could slide them down your legs. he slid them into his back pocket, and you didn't even try to stop him.

you reached for the button on your skirt, but he grabbed your hand, "keep the skirt on for me, baby. it looks so cute on you."

he flipped it up, though, and revealed your desperate pussy dripping all over his desk.

finally pulling his tie over his head, he let his shirt hang halfway open. "give me your hands, sweetheart."

you looked at him confused, but obeyed nonetheless, giving into his every demand with blind compliance. he slipped your wrists through the loop in his tie and tightened it, wrapping it a couple times into an inescapable knot. "perfect." he breathed. taking in the sight of his favorite student tied up and naked on his desk, just shaking with the anticipation of him actually fucking her. "my pretty plaything..." he muttered to himself.

his hand slipped between your legs, letting his fingers tease at your folds. playfully spreading them and letting the cold air hit your sensitive pussy. you shivered at the contact, "please professor..." looking up at him desperately, "i need you."

"oh, you sweet thing," he playfully pouted at you, "you've been so patient, haven't you?"

you nodded, resisting your urge to grab his wrist and grind into his hand. he positioned his ring and middle fingers at your entrance, "well let me reward you, sweetheart."

and he slipped his two fingers inside you so gently. letting your warmth surround them. slowly pumping them in and out of your prefect pussy. he found it endearing how you struggled to find a spot for your hands. your hands flexed and twitched trying to resist the urge to reach for him. he was going to tell you to hold onto his dress shirt, but he much preferred watching you struggle to hold yourself together.

he finally got a soft moan out of you when he pressed his thumb into your clit. rubbing slow circles on it and watching as your back arched into him. he kept a steady pace with his fingers, not letting himself lose control to his own desire. but he couldn't help but let his pointer finger slip inside.

you sucked in a sharp breath, "ohhh..." one of your legs wrapped around his waist. tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.

"how does that feel, baby?" he muttered against your ear. his breath on your neck making you shiver.

"it hurts.." he sunk all three fingers inside and curled them, "sir!" you gasped.

"shhhh..." he ran his other hand over your hair, "just breathe, sweetheart. breathe. i got you." he kissed your temple, "your professor's gonna take such good car of you, okay? i'm not gonna stop until your little pussy is squirting all over my desk." you moaned loudly at the thought, "oh? you like that? you're dirtier than i thought, baby. have you thought about this?" he loved how you trembled under his touch, "do you have dirty thoughts about your professor during class? maybe that's why you're failing. because you can't stop imagining me bending you over my lap in the middle of my lectures."

you tightened around his fingers at the idea. imagining laying over his knee with your skirt flipped up as he spanks you like the little slut you are and fingers you until you can't even thing straight. "well, we'll have to try that sometime, won't we? want me to fuck you in the lecture hall? where all your classmates and instructors can hear just how pretty you moan."

he smiles at the little nod you give him, but he notices how little you're comprehending his words. "you close, sweetheart?" you just hum in acknowledgment. "hmm, what about now?" he curls his fingers and pressed them directly into your g-spot. pumping in and out making sure to hit it every time with his fingertips.

"oh...oh!" you throw your head back, "i'm gonna cum! oh fuck.."

"cum for me pretty girl. make a mess baby. all over my desk."

your tied hands gripped onto his dress shirt, the pleasure from his fingers making you lightheaded. you let out the prettiest moan as your orgasm hit your. pleasure wracking through your body as he continued to fuck you with his hand. hitting your g-spot over and over again. determined to make you squirt all over his desk.

he dragged his fingers over the spot one last time before you felt it. your orgasm washing over you in messy spurts as you came all over his hand. you juices spilling all over his desk. he chuckled as he kept his fingers inside you. letting your pussy pulse around them. his lips graced your hairline, "i knew you could do it, sweetheart. you listen so well. what did i do to deserve such a perfect toy?"

"thank you, sir," you looked up at him, your pride obvious in your eyes. oh that little praise kink of yours made his life so fucking easy.

"of course my sweet thing," he brushed a thumb over your cheek. "you think you can take more? i think you would look so pretty on my cock."

"please, sir..." you leaned into his hand, "i'll be good. i promise."

his hand slid down to your neck, "oh i know you will." you watched as his tongue slid out of his mouth and wet his lips, "you'll do anything for that passing grade, won't you? even let your professor fuck you in his office after hours. that's a little pathetic don't you think?" he smiled as your expression changed into one of shame. "couldn't get anything into this dumb little brain of yours, so you had to come visit me in this slutty little outfit and just beg me to fix your grade? yeah?"

the fingers on your neck squeezed lightly, "i can imagine how mortified your parents would be if they knew how their perfect little angel got her good grades. just whoring herself to a professor twice her age. because she's not smart. she's just a dumb little whore who lets her pussy solve all of her problems."

tears pricked at your eyes, "i tried professor jeong! i did! i just—" you choked on a sob, "i just couldn't get anything. i'm a good student i promise! and i study hard."

he hummed, "like you did in professor park's class?'

your breathing stopped, "wha—"

"oh baby," he kissed the tip of your nose with a touch of his own condesending sweetness, "i know i'm not special. you should know that mr. park and i are really good friends. and when i told him that you were failing my class, he let me in on your little secret."

"professor please," a tear fell down your cheek, mortified that he was telling you this.

"my sweet thing...messing around with older bachelors is one thing," he swiped at your tears with his thumb, "but i can only imagine how mr. park's wife would feel."

you choked on a soft sob, trying desperately to hold it together, "oh god, please don't tell her. i didn—" you shook your head, "it was just a one time thing. and i really needed to pass his class."

"hmmm i'm sure you did, sweetheart." he leaned in and let his tongue wipe up a tear on your cheek, "and don't worry, i won't tell anyone. it'll be our little secret, okay?"

you nodded hesitantly, "thank you professor jeong."

"of course. but i do ask for something in return," he threaded his fingers through your hair, "you're such a sweet, submissive little thing. i don't think i can let you go so easily. i'm gonna need a couple more..." he looked you up and down hungrily, "favors from you."

"favors?"

"mhm..." he tightened his hold on your hair, "favors." he yanked your head back, "i wanna see how far i can go until i break you."

you whimpered.

"i know that you're a filthy whore deep down, baby. you just haven't found the right guy to try and slap you around a little bit." he forced your mouth open with his free hand, "you're gonna take ever little thing i give you." a wad of spit fell from his mouth and onto your tongue. you fought the urge to swallow it, waiting on his command. he smirked at how easily compliant you were. "swallow."

you let his saliva trail down your throat.

finally, you watched as he unbuckled his belt. instead of letting it drop he set it on the desk next to you before unlooping the button on his pant and letting them fall to the floor. he grabbed your tied wrists and pulled you off of his desk. "turn around."

you obeyed without hesitation, turning toward his desk. he pressed his hand to your back and pushed your chest down onto the desk. you heard him shuffle out of his boxers before grabbing the belt next to you.

you heard the leather snap against itself. "we're gonna play a little game, okay?"

"yes, sir," you nodded with your face pressed into the desk.

"good girl," he trailed the belt along your spine and you shivered. "we're gonna play a little game. i'm gonna fuck you on my cock. and i'm not gonna hold back. but you aren't allowed to cum until..." he snapped the belt against your ass. you yelped in pain, your hips jerking forward in surprise, "you count thirty spankings."

"thirty!?" the belt made contact with your ass once again.

"yes, baby. thirty. and if you can't do it, then your gonna have to go home and cum all alone in your bed. because i'm not gonna give you anything you don't deserve."

his cock slid through your folds, and he ran the tip along your clit. delighting in how you shuddered under him. you gasped when he finally sunk into you. filling you up in ways that you weren't sure were even possible. "perfect little pussy," muttered to himself.

he pulled out and thrust into you, hard. his tip smashing into your cervix. but you couldn't even catch a breath because he immediately brought the belt down onto your ass.

"one!" you choked out. followed by a "two! three!' and the leather snapped against your skin again.

"good job, baby. you're doing so perfect."

you whined, "thank you, sir."

"four!" you felt the sting again. this time much harder than the last. and five, six, seven, and eight felt like they were burning into your skin.

he already had you sobbing into the wood. after nine and ten, he let your skin breathe, but he continued to fuck your pussy relentlessly. and you could already feel your orgasm creeping up on you.

the next spank surprised you, "eleven..." you sobbed into the desk. and he kept going, keeping his relentless pace on both fronts. surely bruising your ass and your cervix.

by the time he hit twenty-five you were desperately trying not to cum. your legs were useless, no longer holding you up at all. and your ass was going numb.

"you're so close, sweetheart. count five more for me, and i'll let you cum so hard, okay." he kissed the nape of your neck.

before bringing the belt down again two more consecutive times, and you counted between sobs. and you were already tightening around him, on the verge of your release.

and maybe he was feeling gracious, because the last three strikes were much softer and his thrusts started becoming much more erratic. "fuck! i'm close baby." he grunted in your ear.

he pressed his chest into your back, the buttons of the dress shirt he still wore digging into your back, "oh god i'm gonna fill you up so good. gonna breed this dumb little pussy so you know it's all mine."

"all yours," you cried, "it's all yours." your whole body shook under him, "oh i'm coming! shitttt sir i'm coming."

"yeah, baby," he growled, "cum with me. cum around my cock while i breed you so good. ahh shit! yeah there we go baby. there we go..."

his cum filled you up as you came together. seeping out of your pretty little hole when he pulled out to admire his handy work, your pulsing cunt pushing his cum out in little spurts.

he kissed your shoulder and leaned into your ear, feeling you breathing heavy under him, "we are gonna have so much fun together, sweetheart, just you wait."

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@sushiinmidnight @atiny-dime-p1ece @mismatchfluffysocks @vic0921 @vampzity

@breadpuddingboys @woolysium @desirehorizon @im-ovulation @pommelex

@dancingwithdeities @maidens-world @jycas @kirbrary @aftertherain-atr

@staytinyinmybpack @m4n4-s4m4 @jjcanwrite @yvnhoos @uninterested-ghost

@yizhou-time @shinyj3lly @kyeos4ng @prettygirlslietoo @miriamxsworld

@tiny2018 @ttdogsworld @kejingken @fandom-freak-geek @painted-hills

#yunho smut #yunho x reader smut #jeong yunho x reader smut #cromernet #yunho #illusionet #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #jeong yunho x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #jeong yunho imagines #ateez imagines #jeong yunho smut #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ yunho #*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dj's work

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