#JUST HIM N HIM N RIDING HIS THIGH ! MY STOMACH IS TURNING !!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punkshort · 5 months ago

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The Farmer's Daughter

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader one-shot

Summary: Forced to sell your body after your father's farm went under, you find yourself hand picked to service the Roman army on their latest battle away from Rome. What you didn't expect was to be selected to share General Acacius's room for the duration of the journey.

Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), heavy talks of prostitution, mentions of SA but none occur, reader is a (new) prostitute, virginity loss (no blood mentioned just some discomfort), descriptions of battle wounds/blood, food and alcohol consumption, one bed trope, enemies to lovers-ish, unprotected piv sex, thigh riding, angst, possessiveness

WC: 10.2K

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

A/N: I know by this point his character is mostly referred to as Acacius in the film but I'm sorry, I can't wrap my head around someone moaning that name in bed. So let's just ignore that, okay?

How did this happen? Why did fate play you such a cruel and twisted hand?

When you were younger, you expected to be married off to be a housewife to a solider. From what you heard growing up, it wasn't a terrible life. The men were gone most of the time which allowed the women to run the household and raise children in peace. Unfortunately, your mother died during childbirth and your father, a humble farmer, passed away too early in life, leaving you and his few workers to keep the farm operating for as long as possible. To make money, you spent much of your time at the market, selling the food you made on the farm and the goods you weaved and molded from the scraps.

It wasn't enough. You lost the farm after a handful of years and you were on the brink of becoming destitute. Already you were malnourished and dehydrated, but as hard as you tried, you couldn't find work.

That was how you found yourself in a long line of women, standing silently with your heads bowed and your hands clasped as you were all throughly inspected by a senior officer of the Roman army. They were choosing their group of whores to hire to accompany the men on their next battle across the sea. You were left with no other option but to sell your only remaining asset. The thought turned your stomach, but the idea of starving to death was worse.

One by one, women were hand picked to step forward and exit the room. All in all it had to have been close to forty whores hired to service an entire army.

The odds were not in your favor if you were picked.

It came as a relief when you ended up not getting chosen. You breathed a deep sigh and lifted your chin, scanning the room of remaining women and senior ranking soldiers. You would make do somehow. At least you wouldn't be spreading your legs multiple times a night for different men after they've spent the day fighting and working up their appetite.

You turned to follow the women back out onto the streets of Rome, no doubt searching for another way to sell their bodies, when you heard a deep, familiar voice call your name. You froze in disbelief, wondering who could possibly know you, and then you slowly turned.

It was General Acacius. The fearless leader of the Roman army, but you knew him from your stand in the market. Whenever he was home from battle, he always found you and purchased more than he could possibly need, feeding you and your farmhands for weeks. He never said much and neither did you, but you had grown fond of seeing his greying curls and dark, smoldering eyes approach your stall, albeit with a new wound or scar to show for his travels.

You did not even realize he knew your name.

His eyes drifted up and down your worn tunic, noticing the stains and rips and your poor fitting sandals. Your gaze flickered nervously around the room at the other men impatiently looking to wrap up their work and begin their long journey, but remained silent, deferring to the general.

"You will come with us," was all he said, his voice booming in the small room. Your blood ran cold and panic seized your throat.

"But the choices have already been made-"

"I am paying. I believe I am allowed to decide how many whores we bring along."

You clamped your mouth shut, brows furrowing in anger. How foolish you were to assume he was a man of honor, a man who wanted to help you when he bought your meager wares in the market. As it turned out, he was no better than any other, only out to seek pleasure between your legs.

At that point, you knew better than to argue. Your fate was sealed. Begrudgingly, you forced yourself to follow after the other chosen women, walking past the high ranking officials who sized you up as you went.

The army was to travel by ship. Or multiple ships, to be exact. The women were counted off and told to stand in smaller groups, one handful of whores for each ship of hungry soldiers. When your group was assigned, you heard that familiar powerful voice come out of nowhere once again, stopping everybody in their paths.

"She is to travel on mine," General Acacius announced. A few men exchanged confused glances and Acacius grew irritated. "That one," he clarified, pointing directly at you. The other men quickly nodded and shuffled you into another group, and you thought that would be the end of it, but then he spoke again as the others began to board.

"She will stay in my chambers."

If the soldiers were surprised, they hid it well, but you didn't. You whipped around and glared at him defiantly, a litany of disrespectful curses on the tip of your tongue. Thankfully, you remembered your place and who you were speaking to and caught yourself before you got killed, but as you turned to board the ship, you noticed an amused smirk play across the general's lips.

A young solider shoved you into the general's quarters, ordering you to not go through his things or they would cut off your hands, then slammed the door shut, leaving you all alone. The rest of the women had gone below deck, most likely to a shared room that was filthy and freezing cold. You, on the other hand, had a beautiful soft bed and a roaring fire to warm yourself by a small wooden dining table. There was a bookshelf tucked into the corner and your fingers itched to pull the books out and examine them, but you didn't dare. Instead, you sat on the small cushioned bench next to the only porthole in the room, tucking your knees against your chest protectively while you waited for the inevitable.

Sleep took hold of you at some point while you waited for the general to retire. The last thing you remembered was the open sea and the glorious golden sun beginning to dip just below the horizon. When you awoke, it was dark, the only light in the room coming from the fire. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and unfurled yourself from your bench to look around, then nearly yelped when you found the general quietly sitting at the table pouring himself wine.

Your heart raced violently in your chest, knowing full well what he expected of you. And despite offering yourself up earlier that day as a whore, you had decided you would not do it for this man. Because this man came to your booth in the market under the guise of kindness that turned out to be a lie, and it simply did not sit right with you.

"I will not lie with you willingly," you announced boldly with your arms crossed. The general quirked an eyebrow and took a long sip of his wine.

"When was the last time you have eaten?"

You scowled, body vibrating with energy and ready for a fight only to be met with indifference.

"I am not hungry."

"You will eat or you will die," he said, avoiding your eye and standing to collect a plate of food by the door. He dropped it onto the table and pointed angrily at it. "Eat."

"Why?"

"You need your strength, you are frail."

"You do not like your whores thin, then?" you shot back. Acacius clenched his jaw, eyes still cast down. "You wish to fatten me up so you have something to hold onto when you force my legs apart?"

"That is enough!" he roared, fiery eyes finally finding yours and pinning you with an intense stare that had you trembling. "I will not be forcing you to do anything except eat. Now sit down, do not test my patience."

It was a combination of fear and hunger that made you obey, sinking down into the chair opposite his where the plate of lukewarm food awaited you. Acacius sat down and picked up his goblet, watching you from over the rim as you slowly began to pick at the food. You both remained silent while you ate and he drank, the only sound to be heard was the crackling from the fire and the distant laughter and yells from his men in the galley below.

He was right. You hadn't eaten in days. It was no wonder you fell asleep so quickly earlier. You wanted to express your thanks, but you were too stubborn. Instead, you finished your food and put the plate in the basin of water by the door before looking around the room once again. It was easily the nicest room on the ship. You had to imagine most of the soldiers would be sleeping in hammocks stacked on top of one another down below, but the general had the biggest, softest looking bed you had ever seen in your life.

But there was only one.

He watched you from his place at the table, studying your face as you worked out the mechanics.

"I will not force myself upon you if we share the bed," he said, dragging your attention back to him. He was still in his armor, all shiny and clean from the public celebration that took place prior to the army's departure.

"Why am I here, if not to pleasure you?" you asked. You sounded calmer than before but you were still very much on edge.

"You believe I would find pleasure in forcing myself upon a woman?" he questioned before draining his cup. You thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

"Perhaps. Yes."

He stared down at his empty chalice, your heinous opinion of him rolling around in his head and making his chest ache.

"Well, I do not," he proclaimed, standing up quickly and causing his chair to almost topple backwards. He began to unhook his heavy armor, dropping it into a pile on the floor until he was down to his tunic.

"If we were to lie together, it would be because you wish it so," he said softly with his back to you. You swallowed thickly.

"What am I to do here, then?" you asked as he began to turn down his sheets. He slid his tired body into bed and sighed.

"Whatever you like. So long as you stay in this room, you will remain unharmed."

You blinked rapidly, desperately trying to put the pieces together.

"That is all?"

"Yes. That is all. My only wish is you are safe and fed."

You couldn't help it. You had to ask.

"But... why?"

But the general rolled onto his side, effectively ending your conversation and leaving you wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

That first night, you did not share his bed. You slept on the bench by your porthole, curled up small, arms wrapped around yourself protectively until the sun rose. When you awoke, the general was gone, but a plate of food was left on the table for you.

The first week on the ship went exactly the same. You stayed in his chambers, staring out at the sea or sleeping until he returned way past dark with some food for you and a tired look in his eye. And every night, you slept on the bench, still far too distrusting of him.

The second week, the general brought a game with him at dinner time. Two cups and two wooden dice. The idea was you had to guess what you would roll. If you won, you got whatever you bet on the round. It wasn't that entertaining at first since you had only the clothes on your back and nothing else, but what you did have were stories or songs or a slight of hand trick your father taught you when you were young.

You wouldn't realize until much later that it was his way of getting to know you better.

"You released all the cows from the pasture?" Acacius repeated in disbelief. You giggled and nodded.

"I was only six years old! I thought they were being held against their will!"

Acacius laughed, the sound making you grin like a fool and your cheeks warm.

"Alright," he said once he got ahold of himself. "Go on."

You picked up the die and tossed them into a cup, giving it a firm shake and smiling when he shot you a playful wink.

You clapped the cup firmly over the table and before you raised it up, you announced, "One three and one five."

"What is your wager?"

You nodded towards his bookshelf. "One of your books."

He looked up at you in shock. "You can read?"

You gave him a fake look of disgust and nodded. "Of course I can read."

"And you have been here this whole time without picking up a book?"

"Your men told me they would cut off my hands if I touched what is yours."

His face softened and he sat back in his chair.

"No one will touch you," he told you firmly. You stared at one another, the heavy moment weighing between you, the implication of his words impossible to deny. No one will touch you because you are his.

To break the tension, you smirked and said, "So I suppose that means I do not need to wager the books?"

Acacius grinned and shook his head. "Too late, little one."

You rolled your eyes and lifted the cup, pouting when you saw two six's.

"Your turn," you said, pushing the cup to the side.

Acacius collected the dice and dumped them into the cup, shaking it while looking at you curiously from across the table and admiring the way the light from the fire flickered over your beautiful face.

"You can still take a book."

You perked up but shook your head. "That is against the rules of the game, General."

"I make the rules. Take a book tomorrow," he insisted before slamming the cup down. His large hand gripped the top of the cup, keeping it pressed tightly against the table.

"Your wager?" you asked, cocking your head to the side.

He swallowed, wondering if he should say what he wanted to say. The fear that you would pull away from him again fought against the insatiable attraction he had harbored for you for years. But the wine must have won the fight because he said, "One kiss."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and for a moment, he thought he made a horrible mistake. But then you squared your jaw and narrowed your eyes and said, "Go ahead."

He grinned, pulse thrumming excitedly in his throat when he said, "One one and one four."

But when he lifted the cup, his face fell. A three and a six.

"Ah, well," he said, shoulders drooping. He yawned and stood to collect the dice. "Better luck tomorrow."

Before you could stop yourself, you stood as well and leaned up to peck a chaste kiss against his scruffy cheek. He looked at you in surprise and you gave him a crooked grin.

"For the book."

He smiled and nodded, doing his best to hide his disappointment as you got yourself ready for bed. You had a small pillow and thin blanket to curl up with by the porthole, and it irked him that you wouldn't take more. He feared you would catch a sickness and your malnourished body wouldn't be able to fight off an infection, but you were so stubborn that he couldn't convince you otherwise.

However, the third and final week at sea had you shivering on your bench. Acacius could hardly sleep knowing how cold you were. He could hear your teeth chattering from across the room.

"I beg of you, please sleep in my bed," he said one night as you began to make your little nest by the porthole. You shook your head.

"I am fine, I swear it."

"You are not fine. Please, I will not touch you, you have my word."

You chewed on your lower lip and looked over his shoulder at his warm, plush bed. He could see your resolve begin to falter, so he offered to sleep on the bench in your place.

"No, do not be ridiculous. You have an army to lead tomorrow, you cannot be tense as a knot because you slept on a too small bench."

"I will if it means you are safe and warm," he said softly, his vulnerability taking you off guard.

"General-" you sighed, but he cut you off.

"Please. I promise I will remain on my side of the bed. Just stop being so stubborn for once in your life."

You scoffed and propped your hands on your hips. "For once in my life? And what would you know of it?"

He squinted at you and crossed his arms. "I know more than you think. I know you would not quit until you broke in that filly when you were twelve years old. I know you nearly pushed a boy down a well when he tried to kiss you in front of the whole school. I know you argued with your teacher over the correct spelling of amaranth and I know you poured every last bit of yourself into a dying farm just to keep the memory of your father alive."

Your jaw hung open in surprise, taken aback by the way he stored all of the little snippets of your life you had given him over the past two weeks only to end it with his own observation of you at the market.

You could feel yourself growing weak for him, the temptation to give in too much to bear. He had been slowly wearing you down since you arrived and perhaps he was right, perhaps you were far too stubborn because the last thing you wanted to do was go back on the proclamation you made that very first night.

So, you chose to be defiant.

"Fine," you snapped, swiveling on your heel and stomping towards his bed. "If you wish to share your bed with a whore so badly, then so be it."

Acacius rounded the bed and slipped in beside you, making sure to leave plenty of space.

"You and I both know you are no whore."

"Oh, you know so very much about me, I forget."

You tugged the heavy blankets up to your chin and tried not to audibly sigh at how comfortable it was in his bed.

"If you are a whore, tell me then: how many men have you laid with?"

You clenched your jaw, angry that he was able to figure you out so easily. Instead of answering, you rolled onto your side, your back to him, and muttered, "good night."

Acacius grinned and closed his eyes, proud of himself for besting you.

"Good night."

The following morning, you awoke earlier than usual. When your eyelids fluttered open, the first thing you noticed was the ache in your bones was gone. The large, soft bed had been enough to cure you in just one night.

Not something you planned on admitting to the general, of course.

The second thing you noticed when you sat up in bed was that the ship was not moving. It was completely still, and you could hear loud, quick footsteps outside your door and above your head. Men were shouting to one another and the clink of swords and armor were echoing throughout the halls. Then, through the walls somewhere above you, you heard the general's deep, booming voice yelling orders to his men. You threw off the blankets and hurried to the porthole, your eyes widening when you saw land and small boats being lowered into the water.

You had arrived at whatever distant land the emperors demanded Acacius claim for Rome, and the soldiers were getting ready to depart for their first fight.

You chewed nervously on your nail, curled up against the wall and peering out the window for hours until the very last boat sailed away. In the distance, you could see the general's broad back covered in armor, his dark curls fluttering in the sea breeze and his massive sword tucked dutifully at his waist.

He had left for war and didn't even say goodbye.

Why would you care if he said goodbye? Maybe if they all die, you could escape to shore and be free, find a new city and make a home for yourself.

Even you had to admit that fantasy was foolish. No matter where you went, your fate would always be the same. You had no money, no prospects, no skills and no family. Your destiny was already written and it was a miracle your first attempt at prostitution landed you in the cushy quarters of Rome's surprisingly respectful general.

Your nerves kept your feet moving all day. You tidied up the general's desk, sorting his papers and maps. You scrubbed at the dishware until they sparkled and you made the bed, fluffing up the pillows and tucking in the loose edges until you had nothing left to do. The room was as neat as possible, not a single item out of place, and yet you still floundered around looking for something to occupy your busy mind.

When the sun began to dip and his room grew darker, you went around lighting candles to allow for more light. You were in the middle of lighting the last candle when you heard a timid knock at the door.

Nobody had ever come to his chambers the entire three weeks besides the general himself. You swallowed anxiously, wondering who it could be and if you should answer when you heard a woman's small voice from the other side of the door.

You decided it was safe and opened the door a crack to find one of the whores you had boarded the ship with waiting on the other side with buckets of water and a basin.

"For the general," she said softly. You nodded and dragged the buckets into the room, trying not to stare at the bruises and dirt littering her dry skin. Your stomach twisted with guilt after she left and you locked the door. The other women were living like cattle and you were living the life of luxury. Not only was the general not forcing you to fuck him, but you were giving him sass at every turn.

It was a harsh reminder of your fortune, of what your life could be like. The thought of living the life of the women below deck frightened you, so you had decided that evening when the general returned, you would give yourself to him to show your appreciation, as well as out of fear he would soon get rid of you if you didn't give him what he wanted.

You remained at your post, staring out at the dark sea until you could see the bobbing of lanterns making their way across the black expanse, letting you know the men were returning for the night. You rushed to warm up his water over the fire, dumping it into the large basin. You poured some scented oils into the bath just as the door unlocked and opened, revealing a very filthy and exhausted looking general holding two plates of food.

"Good evening," you said, standing obediently. Acacius paused at the door, confused by your formality before closing it with his heel and setting down the food at the table. "I have a warm bath ready for you, General," you added, pointing towards the basin. He nodded tiredly and began to work on the hooks of his armor. You rushed forward to help him, once again taking him by surprise until he was stripped down to his red tunic.

"Would you like to eat or bathe first?" you asked. The general sighed and looked longingly at the bath.

"I will clean myself while you eat," he said. He pointed towards the table and motioned for you to turn around.

"May I assist you instead, General?" you asked with your back turned. You could hear the shuffle of fabric falling to the wooden floor and then a sharp hiss when he sunk down into the warm water.

"Assist me with what? Cleansing myself? I believe I can manage," he chuckled. You turned around to stare at the back of his head, his body now submerged in the water and hidden from view, but you could still see his shoulders and arms. They looked bruised and bloodied.

He didn't notice your eyes on him, of course. He was busy scrubbing the dirt and blood from his skin while he looked around the tidy room.

"It is very nice in here, you did not have to straighten up."

It was the least you could do and you knew it but said nothing.

Instead, you shakily lifted your worn tunic over your head and let it crumple to the floor. Nerves fluttered in your stomach as you slowly approached him, the general completely unaware as he continued to scrub his skin.

"I can think of another way to assist you," you said nervously as you stepped into his eyeline. His chin tilted up and he did a double take when he saw your naked form standing before him. His cloth dropped into the water and his jaw fell open in surprise, eyes wide and greedily raking over your body.

"Wh- what is this?" he stammered, gaze glued to your chest. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides under his scrutiny.

"I thought I would show you my appreciation for your hospitality," you explained. "I would like to repay you in some way for choosing me to share your quarters."

A small smile tugged at his lips as he eagerly reached forward, then stopped when he registered your words. He looked up at you questioningly, excitement falling from his face when he asked, "What do you mean, repay me?"

You shrugged and took a hesitant step forward, close enough now so he could reach out and touch your cunt if he chose.

"I realized today my fate could have been much harsher," you explained. "I have not been showing you my appreciation and respect, and in return, I wish to give you my body to use as you see fit."

Acacius frowned and turned his head away, searching for the cloth so he could continue cleaning himself.

"I do not want your body as payment, I believe I told you that weeks ago."

"You said we would not lie together unless I wished it so," you protested. "I now wish it."

"You wish to lay with me out of obligation, not desire. That is not something I want."

Embarrassment and confusion flooded your mind as you slowly stretched your arms across your exposed body, trying to hide yourself out of shame.

"I apologize-"

"Get yourself decent and eat," he commanded without looking up. His voice sounded hard and cold and for some reason, it made you want to cry. You did as you were told, dragging your dirty tunic over your head and sat quietly at his table to pick at your food. You were confused and ashamed, sitting in the tense room with him while you tried to work out what he wanted from you. The idea of wanting a man out of desire never occurred to you. You had grown up under the impression women of your station did not get to experience the luxury of desire, and instead came to terms early on in life that you always had one asset to use at your disposal.

Not one time did you ever imagine being with a man out of affection or love.

"I apologize," you tried again after he had dried off and joined you. He had changed into a clean, white tunic and was clenching a similar one in his fist.

"You may use this," he said, ignoring your apology yet again. He thrusted the tunic towards you and you fumbled when you took it from his grasp. "The one you are wearing looks as if it might fall apart the moment you step outside and feel the sea breeze."

"Thank you," you murmured, fingertips brushing over the soft and expensive material in your lap.

"I will also call for more water tomorrow so you may wash yourself," he said before biting into a chunk of bread.

Your cheeks went hot with shame, still feeling guilt over the mercy and generosity he had shown you.

"I do not know what it is to desire someone," you said after a few quiet moments. Acacius continued to chew and kept his focus fixed on his plate. "I never imagined it would be a part of my life. May I remind you we come from different worlds."

He grunted in response but you noticed his shoulders begin to relax.

"I understand. But you must stop treating yourself as a whore. You are so much more than that, I have seen it with my own eyes. And to watch you debase yourself, to think so lowly of yourself, breaks my heart."

Your breath caught in your throat and you felt tears begin to well up, quickly threatening to spill down your cheeks. How could you have been so wrong? How could you not see the man for who he really was? He was a man who was gentle, kindhearted, protective and most importantly, cared very deeply for you. To what extent, you were unsure, but if he wanted you to desire him and he saved you from being used by countless other men, he certainly must have harbored stronger feelings than you ever thought possible.

"Alright."

His dark eyes flicked up to yours when you spoke.

"I will not debase myself," you said flatly. The corner of his mouth twitched before he looked back down at his food.

"Very well. I am pleased that has been sorted," he replied before shoving his plate off to the side and standing to collect the cups and dice. "Shall we play a few rounds before bed?"

You grinned and nodded, gathering up your plates and dumping them in the water by the door to clean later before joining him back at the table. And somehow, the awkwardness from the evening faded away after a few rolls of the dice.

It had been two weeks docked off shore on some foreign land. You hadn't left his room in over a month and you were beginning to feel insane. You told him as much early one morning when he was dressing for battle. It was still dark outside. Acacius had mentioned he wanted to arrive on shore before dawn so that he might get into position under the cover of night.

"When I return tonight, I will take you up on the deck for some fresh air," he promised as he cinched up his armor. "Do not leave this room when I am not here."

"Why not? Are your men not with you during the daytime?" you asked from his bed.

"It is not my men I worry about," he explained, sheathing his sword after lacing up his sandals.

"Then what do you worry for?"

"I worry about everything," he confessed. His hand was on the doorknob poised to leave, but he stopped to turn to you one last time. "I do not trust the soldiers from this city not to try to climb aboard the ships whilst we are gone. It is important the ships appear empty."

You nodded in understanding before burrowing back in his sheets and he couldn't help but smile at the sight of you looking comfortable and radiant in his bed.

"Behave, my dove, and we may dine on the deck tonight," he said, making you smile wide. He slipped quietly out of his room and locked the door behind him, fearful if he lingered any longer, he may not leave the ship the whole day.

You spent the afternoon reading and bathing and cleaning the general's dirty clothes in the extra water he had brought up after he left. You weren't sure how it happened, but the two of you had fallen into a life of domesticity amidst war without even sharing so much as a kiss.

What surprised you the most was you enjoyed it. You enjoyed tending to his things and cleaning what you could during the day, and then caring for him at night when he returned all bloodied and tired.

It had not once crossed your mind that he may not return until it happened.

That night, you saw the lanterns bobbing over the water, your signal to begin heating up his water for a bath. Your hair smelled like the expensive oils you poured into his water from your own bath earlier. You smiled to yourself when you thought of smelling like him, and him of you.

Heavy footsteps landed on the wooden floorboards above your head and outside your door. At first, nothing seemed amiss. Acacius usually didn't come to his room right away. He typically visited the wounded soldiers in the infirmary, making sure they were well tended to and fed before doing his rounds, assigning a night crew, and then finally gathering food for you both before retiring for the evening.

But more time passed than usual. You could tell because your stomach began to rumble and his water grew lukewarm. You paced around the room, ears straining to hear the voices from the other soldiers, trying to discern anything from their muffled conversations.

It wasn't until two hours went by that you heard a sharp rap at the door and a man's voice echoing on the other side, announcing he brought you food.

Your blood went cold and you wondered if you should open the door, but then you remembered Acacius told you he wasn't worried about his own men, the underlying message being that his soldiers would never touch what was his. So after a moment's hesitation, you swung open the door.

"Here," a young man said, shoving one plate of food towards you. His face was stained with dried blood and dirt and you frowned before taking the food and thanking him softly.

"Where is the general?" you asked timidly.

"He fell in battle," he grumbled before turning away. Your heart plummeted as you reached out and grabbed his shoulder, taking him by surprise.

"What do you mean?" you exclaimed. Fear and adrenaline mixed with something foreign coursed through your veins as you felt your lower lip tremble. The solider shook you off with disgust before stepping back.

"He was struck down. Last I saw of him he was lying still on the battlefield."

When he saw the look of despair on your face, he took pity on you.

"Others were assisting him, his body will return to Rome," he assured you before giving you a firm nod and disappearing down the long hall, leaving you to collapse into a fit of sobs behind the locked door.

The feeling you had in your chest was similar to the way you felt when your father passed, but something was different. It felt like a piece of you went dark, like you may never smile or laugh ever again. Grief consumed every fiber of your being and you found yourself crawling into his bed, face streaked with tears so thick you could hardly see your hands reach for his pillow. You pulled it tightly against your chest and you curled up around it, muffling your wails until your head began to pound and your body felt weak.

You drifted in and out of sleep, tossing and turning until the room grew cold and the fire dissolved into embers. You stood and wrapped a blanket around yourself, sniffling and shuffling over to the fire to stoke the flames wearing the general's spare tunic he had gifted you. After a few minutes, the fire roared back to life and you sat back with a heavy sigh.

Just as you were wondering what you would do come morning and how you would ever be able to move on without him, you heard footsteps approaching. You whipped around in fear and tightened your grip on the blanket. With the general no longer around to protect you, you had assumed the other men would eventually come looking for you, but you had to admit you didn't expect it so fast.

You curled yourself into a ball on your old bench, staring at the doorknob, expecting to see it jiggle and eventually forced open from the other side, but to your surprise the lock clicked quietly and the door slowly creaked open.

When you saw the general appear, limping and bloodied but still alive, you practically screamed. You jumped to your feet and rushed over, moments away from throwing yourself into his arms before you caught yourself.

"Acacius," you whispered in disbelief, the informality slipping easily past your lips for the very first time. He gave you a tired smile and locked the door behind him.

"I apologize for missing dinner," he said. You laughed as two fresh tears trickled down your cheeks. Your hands hovered nervously over his armor as if you weren't sure where you could touch him.

"Apology accepted," you replied before gingerly unhooking the armor around his shoulders. He groaned with relief when you lifted the heavy metal off him and set it against the wall by the door to polish another time. When you turned back around, you gasped at the blood that had seeped through his tunic, staining the yellow fabric a dark red.

"You are hurt," you whimpered, then hurried around his room for clean cloths, healing oils, and salves he kept in his desk. "Take that off and sit down. Allow me to tend to your wound."

He wordlessly lifted the ruined tunic over his head, wincing slightly when the wound at his side pulled, and he sat down at the table just as you instructed. You collected some of the unused water from his bath and set it over the flames to warm up before scooping up some more and setting it on the table next to him.

"They stemmed the bleeding on the boat," he explained. "It just needs to be cleaned and perhaps -"

"I will handle this. You just rest and eat," you told him, pushing your plate of uneaten food in his direction. His eyes fell onto the food and he frowned.

"It is untouched," he said, "why did you not eat?"

"How could I when I thought you were dead?" you snapped as you brought a soaked rag to his side and began to gently pat at the nasty looking gash.

Acacius took a bite of food, the flavors melting onto his tongue and making him groan. He didn't realize how hungry he was and before he knew it, he had eaten all of the food except for the grapes. You were leaning across his lap, bandaging up his wound with intense focus. He sighed contentedly, basking in the warmth from the fire and the soft touch of your hand on his skin. He could already feel his strength beginning to return.

"That should hold," you said, sitting upright to inspect your work. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at the neat little bandage you had adhered to his wound.

"You did a very good job. Where did you learn such things?"

You shrugged and began to clean up the salves and oils. "On a farm, many accidents happen. You learn quickly how to tend to a wound."

He smiled and sipped from the wine you had poured for him while watching you move around the room, disposing of his soiled clothes and rags and then bringing the bucket of warm water over to the table with a fresh cloth.

When you pulled the other chair closer and sat, fitting your legs between his knees so you could reach him, he began to protest.

"You do not need to -"

"I want to," you said, cutting him off with a warm, wet cloth on his aching shoulders. His eyelids fluttered with a groan, leaning back into his chair and giving in. It felt so wonderful to be washed by your hand, to have you so close and safe while tenderly caring for him. It was all he had been dreaming about for years, ever since the first day he saw you at the market.

"So many scars," you whispered, swiping the cloth down his broad, strong chest. His breathing stuttered when you reached his stomach and he tensed.

"I have been in many battles," he murmured with his eyes still closed. You hummed to yourself and continued to work, diligently and carefully scrubbing away the layers of blood and grime until you cleaned everything you could see.

"Can you lean forward, General?" you asked, "I would like to cleanse your back."

He nodded and with a grunt, sat upright so he could lean forward. You stood from your chair and positioned yourself behind him, taking great care with every swipe of your cloth, afraid of unearthing a new wound under all the filth.

"Back to general now, are we?" he asked.

Your hand paused on his shoulder blade. He sensed your confusion and he chuckled.

"When I first arrived, you called me Acacius," he explained.

"Oh," you breathed before continuing your work. "That was disrespectful, I -"

"No, I quite liked it," he said before you could finish apologizing. "You may call me Marcus when we are alone, if you prefer."

Your eyes widened and although he couldn't see you, he could tell you were surprised.

"That would be highly irregular," you finally said softly, putting down the wet cloth and picking up a bottle of perfumed oil. You sprinkled a few drops into your palm and you rubbed your hands together. "That name should only be used by those closest to you."

He opened his mouth to respond but when your slick hands found his shoulders and your fingers began to dig into the knots in his muscles, he moaned and felt himself go lax.

"Oh gods, that feels incredible," he rasped. The deep timber of his voice sent a wave of arousal right to your core. You continued to work on his back and shoulders, privately marveling at his broad frame and firm muscles under his scarred, bronzed skin. He was truly something to behold. So strong, handsome, and fearless. Yet also kind and gentle. The proximity of his body and the ricocheting emotions you had experienced that evening had you reacting to him in a way you never had before. It was confusing and strange yet also exciting, and the noises you were drawing from his mouth with every roll of your thumbs was causing a dull ache to form between your thighs.

You blinked and cleared your throat, trying to shake the heavy curtain of lust that clung to you.

"What happened out there? One of your men informed me you were dead."

Marcus sighed and sat up straight, the angle causing you to drop your hands from his tight shoulders. One of his massive hands reached back to take yours so he could lead you to stand in front of him, between his knees.

"They had called a truce. They requested to discuss terms of surrender, so I called off my men and went to speak with their king," he began, his hand still engulfing your own as he gazed up at you with his soft, dark eyes. "It was a trap. They ambushed me when I got out of range. It must have been twenty of them," he continued solemnly, his thumb brushing against your wrist as he spoke. "I slayed them all, one by one, but once I took down their final solider, an archer took aim from the wall. I was able to dodge the arrow but I was not quick enough," he chuckled and looked down at his wound. "I am not the young man I once was."

"I cried for hours," you admitted quietly. His eyes darted up to yours again, holding his breath as you spoke. "I had never considered you would not return to me at the end of the day. However, when I got word you had died-"

You paused when a sob got lodged in your throat. You knit your brows together, hoping to stave off your tears while Marcus patiently waited. Eventually, you gave him a watery smile and lifted your free hand to cup his cheek.

"I felt a grief I never thought I would feel again," you said, voice shaking. His eyes searched your face, watching the way your anguish rolled through you at the memory. He swallowed tightly and, with his other hand, gently gripped your waist.

"Tell me," he whispered, "did you feel these things only because you feared for your safety if I was not here?"

You shook your head as one singular tear trickled down your cheek.

"No," you breathed, "it was because I felt like a part of me died, too. Because I could not imagine my life without you."

When you saw the joyful look in his eye, you quickly closed the remaining distance between you, leaning down the rest of the way and slanting your mouth desperately over his. He moaned and dropped your hand so he could cup the back of your neck, pulling you even closer so you were forced to straddle his lap.

"Do you know what you do to me?" he groaned amid kisses that were growing increasingly messy as the heat between you grew. "How badly I want you? How long I have waited?"

Your mind was blank. You couldn't think of a single thing to say, but Marcus didn't give you a chance to respond, anyway. His tongue slipped past your lips, greedily swirling in tandem with yours and forcing your jaw to open wider. The hand on your waist dropped to flatten against your lower back and he pressed you forward so not even a sliver of moonlight could sneak between your bodies.

Underneath your gifted tunic, you were bare. When you joined the other whores all those weeks ago, they told you there was no use for undergarments, that the men would just destroy them if you bothered to wear any, so just like all the others, you never did. It had never been a problem until that very moment, when Marcus had you writhing in his lap, hips stretched wide and cunt free to rub against his thigh. When you first made contact with his leg, the firm muscle brushing against your sensitive clit, you jumped in his lap and moaned into his mouth.

"Tell me, sweet thing," he murmured when he finally broke the kiss. You were panting heavily, eyelids drooping with need as you gazed down at him. "I know you have not sold yourself to a man, but have you ever laid with one before?"

You shook your head and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, holding him close. His lips brushed up against your throat and he began to suck on the sensitive skin there as both of his hands fell to your hips. Gently, he rocked you back and forth, sliding your slick, bare cunt over his thigh. He heard you sigh and smiled against your skin when your head dipped backwards in pleasure.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes," you whispered, voice raspy and thick. "Oh, yes, it feels... heavenly," you told him with a sigh.

"Good," he grunted, "keep going. Do not stop until you come. I will need you soft and wet before you take my cock."

"Yes, General," you replied obediently, making his cock jump behind his thin loincloth.

Marcus tugged at the back of your loose tunic, stretching the material across your breasts so your hardened nipples poked through. With a low growl, he lunged forward and wrapped his mouth around one, cloth and all. His teeth added a surprisingly tantalizing amount of pressure that had you gasping for air as your hips quickened their pace over his thigh. You must have been leaving streaks of arousal all over him but something told you he didn't mind.

"You desire me, yes?" he questioned when he switched his attention to your other breast. You nodded feverishly, face tilted towards the ceiling as you chased your pleasure.

"Yes," you gasped, "yes, Ge- Marcus."

He groaned so loudly you thought he might wake up the whole ship.

"Fuck, say that again."

You smiled and circled your hips faster, grinding down onto his thick leg. You were so close, you could taste it.

"Marcus," you whined, "oh, Marcus. I cannot wait to feel you inside of me. I just know you will make me feel so good, will you not?"

Suddenly, his hand was back on your neck and his mouth was pressed tightly against the underside of your jaw, not unlike a wild animal pinning his prey against his sharp fangs. You could feel his hot puffs of air fanning across your skin and his teeth scraping your throat. His intensity might have frightened you if you weren't on the brink of an earth shattering orgasm.

"I will make you feel so good, you will never want to take another lover again," he said darkly. The hairs on your arms stood up but you continued to rut yourself as fast as you could against his thigh, your own chest heaving as you fought for air. "And if I have it my way, you never will," he added.

His words were what tipped you over the edge. You cried out his name and clutched at his shoulders for support as your orgasm rolled through you, covering him with your slick.

Your body was still trembling in his arms when he lifted you up and carried you to the bed. You blinked rapidly in response, poised to argue with him about potentially reopening his wound, but before you could get a single word out he had tossed you onto the sheets and climbed on top of you, caging you in.

"Before I ravish you, my sweet, what do you know of coupling?"

You scoffed. "I am no fool, I know how it works."

Marcus chuckled at your snark and sat back on his heels to peel your tunic over your head, exposing yourself entirely to him. A groan rumbled through his wide, bare chest as he stared down at you hungrily, all spread out and ready for him.

"I cannot lie. Ever since you first stood before me naked, your beautiful body has consumed my every waking thought."

"It shows incredible restraint, then, for you to share a bed with me each night," you teased, eyes dancing playfully as he stripped himself of his loincloth.

"You have no idea," he growled, falling back onto his forearms. The tip of his nose nudged against yours affectionately. "I have waited years for this, my sweet."

The idea of any man pining after you, let alone the mighty General of Rome, was a strange and foreign concept.

"I am just the daughter of a poor farmer," you muttered, fingers brushing his peppered curls behind his ear.

"Your station means very little to me," he replied, looking down between your bodies so he could notch the thick head of his cock at your opening. "The heart wants what the heart wants."

Your pulse quickened when you felt the slight bit of pressure he applied. Knowing how it worked was one thing, experiencing it for the first time was another.

"I-I was told it may hurt," you said meekly. Marcus's eyes found yours and he tenderly cupped your jaw.

"Yes, that is true, but I promise it will not last long," he assured you. You swallowed and nodded before spreading your legs wider and hooking your ankles around the backs of his thighs.

"Tell me if it is too much," he murmured. He pressed your foreheads together, lips hovering above yours, ready to soothe you from the pain.

"Go on, then," you said bravely.

Slowly, he breeched your opening and sunk one inch inside of you. You gasped and dug your heels harder into his thighs, but Marcus held steady.

"Speak," he demanded after a few seconds of listening to your heavy breathing.

"It stings," you admitted, "but it is not... unpleasant."

He nodded and pecked a chaste kiss against your lips before giving you another inch. You whined and squirmed a bit but once you settled, he took it as his cue to continue. It went just like that until he finally found himself fully seated inside of your tight heat.

"The worst is over, my sweet," he told you.

You wiggled underneath him, moving this way and that until you got used to the feeling of him inside you. Your hands wrapped around the backs of his biceps and you stretched your neck so you could bite and nip playfully at his prickly jaw.

"I enjoy being full of you," you admitted shyly, eliciting a grunt from the back of his throat.

"Good," he grumbled before drawing back his hips and slowly easing himself back inside your warmth. "Because I intend on having you full of me as much as possible. I fear I will never have enough now that you have given me a taste."

Your jaw dropped open when he began to move faster, gently and steadily working you open, carving a space for himself inside of you forever. The only thing you wanted was to have him as close as you could, so you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face against his neck, molding your bodies together as one.

"My sweet girl," he panted, mouth hunting for yours. "You feel better than I ever dreamed. So fucking tight and wet. I cannot believe my fortune, that you would give yourself to me. I wonder if I did indeed die in battle and have ascended to the heavens."

The stretch was divine, his heavy length dragging in and out of you and nudging against a spot that made your stomach clench and your head grow fuzzy.

"Do not say such things," you scolded him breathlessly. His hips stilled for a moment, waiting for you to continue. "Do not jest about your death. My heart cannot handle it."

His eyes softened and his mouth crashed against yours with a groan, overcome that you would feel so strongly for him. He began to roll his hips again but kept his mouth latched onto yours, swallowing down your whimpers and moans.

"I will never leave you," he whispered against your lips. His thrusts grew quicker but he tried his best to be careful and not drive himself too deep for fear of causing you pain. "I will always return now that I have you waiting for me. I shall be invincible in battle."

You laughed lightly, dragging your mouth down his throat and tasting his freshly perfumed skin.

"Was that all it took for you to become immortal?" you teased.

"Yes," he hissed, "a cunt as snug and perfect as yours is all a man needs to give him purpose."

His hand slithered between your back and sheets, pressing his palm firmly against your spine so you arched underneath him. His knees spread wider so he could get better leverage, and he began to roughly snap his hips. You gasped and grabbed onto his hair, giving it a sharp tug and making him groan. It was lewd yet somehow romantic, hearing the sound of your skin slapping together in the otherwise quiet room.

"Does it hurt?" he managed to ask through clenched teeth.

"No," you whimpered inbetween the soft moans he drew every time his cock slammed back into you. "Oh gods, Marcus, please-"

"What do you need, my love?"

He sounded breathless, his voice slightly strained, and your chest burst with pride. You loved the idea of being the one who made such a strong man so very weak.

"I- I am not sure," you admitted truthfully. "It feels so wonderful, but it is different than before."

As it turned out, you didn't need to figure out what you needed because Marcus knew. Somehow, he managed to know your body better than you. He knew how to make it sing and thrum just for him.

His hand snuck between your bodies and the pad of his thumb found your clit. He rubbed firm, slow circles over the sensitive bud, and his name instantly flew from your mouth, loud and wild. You likely could be heard from shore, but Marcus never shushed you. In fact, he smiled and worked his thumb faster, drawing out more delicious moans with every stroke.

"You are so beautiful," he murmured while sucking a mark into your neck. He could feel your lower belly begin to tense and heard your breath waver, so he circled his hips faster, cock greedily plunging in and out of your soaked cunt, chasing his release with reckless abandon now that he could feel you were close.

"I have obsessed over you for years. Dreamed of having you all to myself, just like this," he continued. He could sense his words had a great effect on you. Your walls fluttered and pulsed around him when he admitted his deepest secrets, so he kept talking.

"Long nights spent on the cold ground in the middle of war, I would dream of you. I would wonder what you would be doing back in Rome. I would pray you did not find a husband while I was away."

Marcus gasped when your cunt gripped around him so tightly that it took his breath away. "The thought of you belonging to another was enough to drive me insane," he groaned before capturing your lips with his.

"I am yours," you rasped when he pulled away, and when your eyes locked, he could see the adoration he felt for you reflected right back. "For as long as you will have me, I am yours."

Marcus's eyes slid closed in bliss after hearing the words he so longed to hear. "Come for me, my love. Come for me and when we return home, I shall make you my wife. I will take care of you. I promise you will never go hungry again."

Your hands grappled with the back of his head, fingers threading through his unruly locks as you pulled him down for a searing kiss. He muffled the sounds of your orgasm, cries of his name dying in your throat while your body bucked wildly beneath him.

It only took a few moments before he joined you. With his hand roughly squeezing your hip, he yanked you towards him. His body stilled, pumping you full of his seed while your tongues danced together in tandem until his shoulders sagged and you began to shake.

Marcus flicked the sheets so he could toss them over your trembling bodies. He planted kisses along the side of your head and jaw, then brushed the hair away from your face until your breathing leveled and your eyes reopened.

"Are you alright?"

You nodded and gave him a weak smile. "I am tired."

Marcus withdrew his hips, sliding his softening cock out from your clutch. You cried out in pain and he instantly jolted out of bed to soak a clean rag in some leftover warm water, then hurried back to press it between your legs.

"Better?"

"Yes," you sighed. "Thank you."

He gave you a quick kiss and slid back under the covers. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest so he could nuzzle your hair and murmur sweet nothings in your ear.

"Must you leave me in the morning? Can you not spend just one day recovering from your wound?"

Marcus kissed your bare shoulder and shook his head.

"The war is almost done. Tomorrow, I will make them surrender so we may sail home and start our life together."

You grinned and burrowed deeper under the covers. "Did you mean that?"

"What is that, my love?"

"When you said you would make me your wife," you said sheepishly. "Or was that just your mind getting lost to desire?"

"No, I meant every word," he said before rolling over and snuffing out the candle next to the bed. "When we return to Rome, I will make you my bride. You will bear my children and I will watch them play in the garden with you by my side."

You hummed and closed your eyes. "That sounds lovely."

You had very little idea of the politics in Rome and how the highest ranking general of the Roman army could possibly announce he was going to wed a poor farmer's daughter, but you knew deep down if Marcus wanted it, he would somehow make it happen. You knew this because his determination always won, on and off the battlefield.

After all, you were living proof of it.

#marcus acacius #marcus acacius x reader #marcus acacius x you #marcus acacius x female reader #Marcus acacius x f!reader #gladiator 2 fic #gladiator ii #gladiator 2 fanfiction #gladiator 2 fanfic #the farmer's daughter fic

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belovedmusings · 1 year ago

Text

Am I Playing All Right Now?

Kento Nanami x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Kento Nanami has been your respectful, loving boyfriend for two months now. All you’ve done so far is kiss, and you want more with him. He refuses for your sake, warning of his roughness. So, you take matters into your own hands and convince him to put in ‘just the tip’.

Relevant tags: just the tip challenge, dom! Kento Nanami, clothed sex, couch sex, clit slapping, brief use of leather belt, hard and rough sex, doggy-style, hair pulling, manhandling, big dick-Nanami <3, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex, creampie, I don't use "y/n" for immersion

Music recommended while reading: Dollhouse (The Weekend, Lily Rose Depp, …baby one more time (The Marias), Like U (Rosenfeld)

A/N: this is filthy and I love it, my first Nanami piece <3 enjoy!! (Read on Ao3 if you prefer!)

Read below cut:

The night had gone great. You two had a fantastic dinner at a fine restaurant, and now you’re at his house, getting hot and heavy on the couch. You’re sat in his lap, straddling his waist, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs as the fabric gives to accommodate him between your legs. Your hands are running over the muscles of his chest, only the thin layer of his dress shirt between your touch and his skin. His palms are on your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you so firmly against him that you can feel the blunt heat of his hard cock beneath the confines of his slacks.

You can feel adrenaline pumping through your veins–tonight is the night. Every time you two get close to having sex, he pulls away, saying he isn’t ready, but right now it feels so different, so electric–

He hums, punctuating the kiss and pulling back, giving you room to breathe. Your stomach sinks, no, this isn’t what you want, you want–

“We should stop here for the night,” He murmurs, and you look into his eyes, a frown tugging your lips down at their corners.

“But you’re hard,” You protest, “Kento, please…we’ve waited long enough, and you clearly want this…”

His jaw tightens as he takes a breath. “I do…but we can’t.”

Now you’re just confused. “...can’t?”

He sighs heavily, giving you no explanation, but nodding. “Now, let’s m–”

“No, hold on,” You interrupt him, “Kento, tell me why? I-is it me? Do you…not want…?”

“It’s definitely not you,” He dispels quickly, “It’s me, okay?”

“What about you?” You press, searching his eyes. “Is it…are you…worried about your performance?”

That gets him to widen his eyes a fraction in surprise. “N-no, it’s not that. It’s…alright, look, it’s…it’s that I don’t want to hurt you.”

It isn’t enough of an answer for you. “And…what do you mean by that?”

“You…you know me to be this nice, gentlemanly man, don’t you?” He asks, a sort of resigned weight to his eyes. “Which, I am. But not when it comes to sex.”

The wheels turn in your head. “So…you’re…?”

“I’m rough,” He finally states, “And it’s…it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m afraid to hurt you or scare you away. Of course I wouldn’t do anything you don’t want, but…you just seem so sweet and–”

“Woah,” You stop him in the middle of his sentence. “Do you think you’re the only one with duality? You don’t think I can be different in bed? Do you think I’m some porcelain doll you’ll break if you’re not careful?”

He considers this for a moment before sighing. “You don’t understand.”

“So then make me understand,” You challenge him, running your hands up his chest. “Please, Kento. I can take it.”

“No,” He denies, “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

Seeing his hesitance, you decide to switch tactics. You reach for his hands on your waist, taking his wrists and raising his palms up to the front of your dress. You guide them to rest over your breasts, allowing him to touch them through the thin cloth. You’d decided not to wear a bra for the night since the article had thin straps, and he immediately can feel that, a flash of desire flitting within his eyes.

Riding the wave of his interest, you tell him, “I want you bad, Kento.”

He inhales forcefully, allowing himself to knead the soft flesh beneath his hands. His thumbs graze over your hardening nipples, your teeth dragging over your bottom lip instinctively. To drive your point home, you grind down on him, the only thing on beneath your dress being the panties you’d hoped he’d see when you had put them on earlier in the day.

“You’re playing dangerous,” He warns, voice thin and strained.

“Maybe I want dangerous.”

He finally lets out a groan, surging forward and capturing your lips in another kiss. It’s more forceful this time, and all you can do is give complete control to him.

He flips your positions so smoothly, you hardly feel it; you just suddenly feel your back hit the cushion of his couch, a gasp pushed from your mouth. His hands make quick work sliding up your dress, fingers hooking underneath your waistband.

Kento speaks against your mouth lowly. “Lace?”

You swallow hard, nodding. “Yeah.”

“Expensive?”

The question catches you off guard. “Uh, no, not r–”

A swift, harsh tug and the sound of fabric ripping later, he holds the scrap lace in his hand, now mangled and unusable. He just tore them clean off.

“Holy shit,” You breathe, now suddenly aware of how bare you are beneath your dress. He must become aware of that fact too, because without a moment to spare, he’s pushing the article up to your waist, exposing you to his eyes. A rosy flush spreads over the bridge of your nose as he looks at your naked lower half unabashedly, a type of hunger you have never seen before nor known he was capable of in his eyes.

He tosses your ruined panties to the floor and fiddles with his belt, undoing the buckle. Your gaze follows his movements, watching his hands expertly tug the leather strap from its loops in his pants.

Then, he surprises you by holding the edge without the buckle and running it along your inner thigh. You shiver, observing him and wondering what his next move will be. He runs it all the way up, reaching the apex of your leg and placing it right over your mound. The cool leather feels unfamiliar there.

“Can I?”

Your attention is pulled to his voice, and for a moment you aren’t sure what he means. Then it dawns on you.

Oh.

No one’s ever done that to you. But…you aren’t opposed. You’re curious.

You nod.

“Words.”

Oh, damn.

“Yes, you can.”

“Good girl.”

You don’t have time to pay attention to the rush of hormones that praise gives you, because a harsh sting of pleasure suddenly hits your senses as he brings the end of the belt down, slapping your clit with it.

“Ah!” You jump slightly, shock, arousal, and fascination flooding you all at once.

“How was that?” He asks, watching you carefully. You take stock of yourself…and are intrigued to find that you liked it. As soon as you realize that, you understand that Kento is about to show you an entire new world previously unexplored to you.

Your eyes lock with his. “It was good.”

A mixture of relief and desire swarm his gaze. “You liked that?”

“Yeah.”

Without warning, he does it again, a little harder, and you cry out this time, unused to the strangely welcome sensation.

“Still good?”

“Yes.”

“Good girl.”

Your next breath is shaky. “More.”

He wastes no time in delivering exactly what you want. Over and over again, until your pearl is red and swollen and the folds beneath are glistening with need, belt shiny with a bit of it. He stops once you reach this state, making sure you see as he licks it off the belt. Your lips part, entranced, and he drops the accessory, instead moving to undo the front of his slacks. Your heart begins racing–but then he pauses, seeming to deflate slightly.

“I’m not gonna go all the way,” He states, “I don’t have condoms.”

“What?” Your voice is more than a little indignant. “But…how?”

“I wasn’t planning to do this tonight.”

He pulls his cock from its restriction in his briefs, pushing his waistbands down to the tops of his thighs, and the sight of the thick, red shaft as your mouth watering and your core pulsing around nothing.

You think he’s changed his mind as he lines it up, but then he just glides it against your folds, coating it in your essence and using it to rub against you, the feeling intense due to the sensitivity of your previously abused clit, but not what you crave.

“Kento,” You whimper, watching him rub himself off as he plays with you using his cock. “Please…”

“We’re not risking a pregnancy,” He maintains, “It’s not wise.”

You are beyond frustrated at this point, entrance weeping for attention, and you swear the desire is so bad you can feel your entire core sore and empty, vying to be filled and stretched.

What can you say that will get him to do it, even just a little bit?

Wait. Just a little bit.

“What about just the tip?”

His eyes narrow. “What?”

“Just the tip,” it comes out needier than you had intended, but god damn it you’re horny and all out of shame twice over.

Kento takes a good look at you, at himself and the position you’re in, sucking in a controlled breath for the umpth time that night.

Then, he lines up again, cockhead pressing against your entrance. “You’re going to regret asking for it.”

Is he challenging you? Whatever. What. Ever. You’ve reached a point where if you don’t get his cock soon your heart may actually give out.

“Let me decide that.”

His jaw sets tightly before finally, finally, he cants his hips forward, pushing the tip of his shaft inside of you.

As soon as it’s in, your head falls back on the couch, hips starting to roll without your permission. Your body wants him all on its own, and you’re no longer in command of it. He groans, pulling out and then pushing it back in, only the tip again, and you whimper in half bliss and half frustration.

You want more.

You understand the true meaning of temptation now. You’ve had the first bite of the proverbial apple, and it’s shocking how eager you are to devour the rest to its core.

Everytime he pushes in, never going past the smooth head of his cock, you moan, wordlessly begging for more. There’s a worry in his brow and a tenseness to his jaw that indicates just how much self-control he’s exercising, and as you look up at him, you realize he’s still pretty much fully clothed—his tie is pristine around his neck, shirt fully buttoned up, only his dick out and vulnerable to your eyes.

It’s unfair, and you seek to change that.

Your hand loops into his tie and yanks him down by it, taking him by surprise. He has to catch himself on his hands to avoid falling on you, a grunt escaping his lips as it causes him to slide further into you.

In a lowered hiss, he asks you, “what do you think you’re doing?”

The tone is so vindictive it has any words dying on your tongue. All it takes is a moment before he’s forcefully breathing out and lifting himself off of you, cock withdrawing from between your legs.

You open your mouth to protest, and that’s when your world spins.

You were face up, but now you’re on your hands and knees on the couch, having to brace yourself as he manhandles you silently. There’s not even a moment for you to acclimate to your new position before you feel his fingers loop through your hair as you’d done to his belt, and in one motion, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams all the way into you, pulling your hair back hard to make you arch for him.

A loud cry splits through the air and it’s only when he starts repeatedly fucking hard and fast into you with the entirety of his monstrous size that you realize the sound was from you.

“See what happens when you push me?” His voice is hoarse and gritty, more like a growl than a whisper, a dull ache inside of you where he’s currently remolding the shape of your walls.

All you can do is make incoherent noises, and you aren’t sure whether they’re from pain, pleasure, or a mixture of both. His grip on your hair isn’t letting up and it hurts, but you’ve also never felt so completely out of control of yourself and somehow it just feels freeing to you.

“Huh?” He asks, and it’s then you realize you never replies to him verbally. You muster up the strength to speak.

“Y-yeah…” it sounds breathy and whiney, completely foreign in the contours of your voice.

“You happy now? Happy you got me to fuck you like the greedy whore you are?”

The harsh word ripples through you hotly and you moan, nodding as good as you can. “Yes…”

“Yes?” He asks, breathless, and he lets go of your hair in favor of wrapping his hand around your neck from behind. “You like being screwed like a whore?”

Apparently, you do. This is new information to you as well. You nod, gasping as he grabs your hand and presses it over your abdomen, where you can feel the flesh rising and falling in tandem with his thrusts.

“Feel that?” He asks, “that’s me inside of you.”

“Oh god,” You rasp, the knowledge of him so deep inside your body going right to your head. You can feel your mound weeping all over yours and his thighs, the wet slap tell-tale of just how much you’re enjoying this. Just the realization has you fluttering around him, a sensation that isn’t lost on him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “You really do like this, huh?”

You nod. “Yes, yes, Kento…”

He groans, leaning forward and kissing the juncture of your neck and shoulder, brushing your hair out of the way.

“Such a good girl for me…my good little slut.”

You shudder, eyes squeezing shut as he speeds his movements up, the hand that was pressing yours to your stomach moving down to the slippery mess that is your swollen clit.

The big palm of his on your neck slides the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders and dips into the neckline of it, grasping your breast as if to claim ownership of it.

“Oh my god,” You breathe again, hips twitching at all of the stimulation, face hot, entrance thoroughly fucked open and sloppy, debauched by Kento like a destructive form of artwork.

His middle finger massages circles into your sensitive pearl as he continues the grueling pace of his hips, lips pressed to the back of your neck, and all at once it becomes too much.

It crashes into you like the unforgiving wave of the raging ocean, sweeping you into the depths of pleasure.

You cum so hard on his cock he physically has to stop moving, your hold on him so tight he’s locked inside of you. That’s the moment that he follows, spilling his pent up, heavy load into you with a hiss of pleasure.

Your arms and knees feel like jelly. Your walls are sore and throbbing, completely exhausted from his ravaging. But all you feel is feather-light. Finally, finally you did it. And it was better than your wildest imagination.

Lips place a tender kiss on your shoulder, his labored breaths slowing back to regulation. You feel his cheek rest upon the skin of your upper back. Both of his hands massaging along the sides of your hips.

“I’m sorry we waited so long. I just figured it would be too intense for you.”

You shake your head, turning it to look back at him as he straightens up and carefully pulls out.

“Don’t do that again.”

The corner of his lips turns up slightly. “Oh no, I won’t make that mistake twice. In fact…there’s something else I want to do now.”

“And what’s that?”

“I want to test your limits.”

A/N: here's my Nanami masterlist :) this is the first piece but lmk what else you want me to write for him! Hope you enjoyed.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami #nanami fanart #nanami x you #nanami x y/n

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ghostedbunnie · 8 months ago

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nightmare in the daylight

knight!ghost x fem!reader

based on my prompt that you can find here.

warnings: non-con/dub-con, size kink, spanking, oral (f.receiving), fingering (f.receiving), thigh riding, biting, creampie, breeding kink

a/n: i feel so rusty so please be gentle i rewrote this way too many times, it was a lot longer and had more plot but i might just end up writing pt.2 if there is interest, I added a tag list for those who wanted to see this! 🫶

Ghost hadn't anticipated encountering a robbery on the forest trail while en route to collect his king's future wife. It was unexpected but not unwelcome; he was yearning for a skirmish, for blood and broken bones. The recent tranquility had left him restless. These bandits wouldn't pose much of a challenge, but they would at least satisfy his craving.

The skies began to pour as soon as he dismounted from his horse, startling the highwaymen. They were engaged in a one-sided fight with a few knights who had undoubtedly been sent to protect the carriage on its way to his kingdom. Before any of them could react to his arrival, heads started rolling. Chaos erupted once more, with screams of terror cutting through the forest and startling the remaining fauna.

After the final enemy fell to a sword through his abdomen, Ghost approached the carriage with slow, deliberate steps. As he opened the door, he was taken by surprise as a curtain was thrown into his face and a shard of glass was aimed for his neck by a scrawny, wild-looking maid. Despite your trembling, there was a fierce determination in your eyes, a vow that you would not give up without a struggle. Beneath his face plate, the corner of his mouth curled up, and with a wry snort, he deflected the shard from your bleeding hand. Seizing you by the back of your neck like a feisty kitten showing its claws, he pulled you out of the carriage and dropped you onto the chilly, muddy ground. As he turned back to the carriage to retrieve the princess, he realized she was no warrior; she had fainted at the sight of his imposing figure silhouetted against the moonlight.

As he carries your mistress to his horse, you launch at his back, kicking and screaming, trying to make him let her go. He unceremoniously deposits her on the horse like a sack of potatoes. Finally, he turns back to catch your hands, which have been beating at his back, with one of his much bigger hands. Your eyes go wide with terror as the reality of your position with this beast sinks in. He can't help but relish in the look of you now, wet hair sticking to your face, wild eyes, and scratches on your cheek from the broken glass. You look like a tasty meal for his beastly appetite and he's been starving for far too long. You are unaware of it but attracting his attention will be the worst mistake of your life. As he draws you closer with your bound wrists, he whispers into your ear so that you can hear him over the pouring rain, “Yer brave but stupid, girl.” After that, he hits the back of your neck and everything goes black.

The next thing you know, you are standing in front of the king who explains the entire situation. However, somehow that doesn't help the sinking feeling in your stomach, especially when the king mentions a reward for the behemoth of a man towering over you. He is still covered in blood, and daylight doesn't make him any less terrifying. He stalks around like a nightmare in black leathers that hug his form tight and emphasize his width. As if sensing your thoughts, he takes a step closer, taking up more of your space, and before you can move away, you catch the last words uttered by the king: “You brought me, my bride, Ghost, it's only fair you get a reward. Take your pick - anything you wish for will be yours.”

A weighty, gloved paw settles on the nape of your neck, causing you to startle. "I'll take 'er." Your mistress immediately starts to protest but despite her objections, the king simply nods and smiles, disregarding you entirely. You have no option but to allow the beast, that he called Ghost, to guide you away with a firm hand on your nape.

After navigating through several twists and turns, you find yourself in an unremarkable room. It contains only the absolute necessities—a bed and very little else. The one thing that draws your attention in the room is the sizeable tub that is still emitting steam, indicating it was just filled a few minutes ago.

Silently, Ghost pushes you towards the tub, and you promptly begin to retreat away from it. You refuse to bathe in his presence. Even though you are just a servant, you are still a virtuous lady.

“Either you go voluntarily or I'll throw you in kickin' and screamin'.” He growls and then says, "I'll relish it either way." You can sense the predatory undertone in his voice. You're fighting a losing battle, as going willingly gives him complete control, yet resisting might provoke an even more... primal response.

You break free from his hold, realizing that he let you go willingly.

"Can you... turn around?" he scoffs, moving to a chair that creaks under his weight. Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, he gestures for you to proceed. Though you want to scream or lash out, you hold back, sensing that he's waiting for you to lose control. Instead, you turn around and slowly peel off your muddied and torn dress. As you reach the chemise underneath, you sneak a peek and notice he has removed his helmet and face plate, revealing short dirty blond hair, black coal marks around his eyes, and prominent scars cutting through his lips and brow. Despite his broken nose, he remains strangely alluring, which frightens you. Hastily, you turn back, slide the chemise down, and attempt to hide under the steaming water.

"Good girl," he growls, satisfied with your obedience. Just as the relief that maybe this is all he wanted starts to sink into your bones, it's replaced with dread when you notice he starts shedding his clothes too. He loosens up his dark, blood-stained leathers with ease and deftness you wouldn't expect from a man his size.

"What are you doing?" Panic is evident in your question, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all.

"Can't bathe with my clothes on," he answers matter-of-factly. Once again, a wave of indignation courses through you, but it's quickly overshadowed by a pang of heat that forces you to rub your thighs together underwater. Your eyes can't help but stay glued to him, just as he did to you when you were taking your dress off. He is now down to his breeches, and when he pulls them down his thick thighs, you audibly gasp when you notice he is not wearing anything underneath. This earns you an amused chuckle, especially when he catches you looking again through your fingers.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, but before your thoughts can drift to what lies between his powerful thighs, he steps into the tub with you. Water spills over the edges, though he doesn't seem to mind. He pulls you close, turning you so your back presses against him, your body nestled between his legs, leaning on his firm chest. The light tickle of his hair brushes against your skin, and his strong arm rests across your stomach, fingers splayed making you feel even smaller. The contact makes you squirm, but as you try to pull away, you only stir the hardening length behind you, making you flush with heat.

“Relax,” he grunts into your ear, more command than a suggestion.

“How can I possibly –ah.” Your reply gets cut off by a moan as his other hand falls from the edge of the tub and wanders between your legs. Your attempts at closing your legs seem futile even with one hand he is strong enough to force his way in and drag his fingers through your folds nearing the opening. Your spine arches instinctively and he answers with a nip to your neck and jaw, while forcing a finger up to the first knuckle in.

“Gotta loosen you up a bit, pet.” You have no choice but to surrender to his touch as he sinks his finger in and curls it, drawing a moan out of you before you clap a hand over your mouth to keep the sounds in. But all that decorum is forgotten when he adds a second one and scissors them before slowly prodding you with the third making you see stars. The tension building in your body suddenly snaps, sending you reeling, legs going numb and your fingers digging into his arm still wrapped around your stomach.

With your mind hazy from your first-ever orgasm, you don't even register that he pulls you out of the bath, drying you, and carrying you to the bed in the center of the spacious room. Your body already half asleep.

His gravelly voice pulls you out of your post-orgasmic haze. “Naive, little thing.” Suddenly he is trailing hungry, open-mouthed, and nippy kisses down the length of your body. Marking your neck and collarbones with angry red marks, biting down harder than necessary on the underside of your breast leaving behind imprints of his teeth, and making you hiss when the pain mixes with the pleasure, he licks a trail down your stomach and in a moment of clear-headedness you try to fist his hair and tug him up and away from your center but his hair is cut too short for any leverage. When you lock eyes with him, between your legs forcing them open with hunger and lust written all over his face you try to get away just for him to deliver a loud smack to your outer thigh before dragging you closer and licking a stripe through your folds with a loud guttural groan that you feel more than you hear it.

His thumb circles your clit while he alternates kissing, sucking, and fucking you with his tongue. When your squirming in an attempt to get away turns into grinding your hips against his face, his other hand rests on your stomach adding slight pressure and making you cry out which only spurs him on. The sounds that reverberated through his chest were nothing short of animalistic and when your second orgasm shot through your core, you fell limp against the sheets with a moan that would make you blush if at least half of your brain was still functioning properly. A new wave of panic sets in when you realize that he isn't stopping. On the contrary, he probes you with his fingers in addition to his tongue. You can feel the coil in your lower belly tightening again, heating up with his ministrations.

You plead with him, saying you can't take anymore just for him to disregard it with a growl, “You've got plenty more in ya.”

You've lost count of how many times you came when he manhandled you around onto your hands and knees propping your hips up with a pillow. You turn to look at him with heavy-lidded eyes and your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him standing behind you with his massive hand tugging at his thick, angry-looking, and leaking cock with his eyes glued to your core, still pulsing and wet from all your previous orgasms. Without warning he grabs your hips, aligns the blunt head of his cock with your entrance, and pushes in. Your fingers dig into the sheets from the sheer stretch as you mewl and whimper when he drags himself all the way to slam back in. Everything is too much and not enough at the same time, with every thrust his fingers dig into your hips and you are sure there will be fingerprints left with how hard he is gripping you and the idea makes you wetter. Prompted by the delicious drag of his cock your walls keep tightening around him, as he pushes you closer and closer to your release. One of his muscular arms circles your waist, his chest flush to your back, as his other arm comes to rest next to your head with one of his legs still firmly planted on the floor and the other resting next to you on the bed for better purchase. This new angle combined with the gravelly grunts so close to your ear become your undoing and you hurtle full-force into another mind-numbing orgasm with Ghost following close behind.

“Come f'r me, pet.” Again, not a suggestion but a command and who are you to refuse him? So you do as he says, pussy fluttering from the aftershocks as he fucks you through it, thumb circling your clit before he fills you up, not allowing you to move an inch, keeping your hips propped up and when he pulls out which drags another set of whimpers from you he meticulously pushes his spend back with thick, calloused fingers. “Gotta make sure it takes.”

If your consciousness weren't slipping away, you'd likely be alarmed, but instead, your eyes begin to close again, and this time, sleep claims you.

You wake to a heavy weight pressing down on your back, and it takes a moment for your mind to catch up with the events of yesterday. When it does, your entire body flushes and you attempt to move out of bed, only to find it futile. You're pinned beneath strong arms marked with scars—some from arrows, large and small, and others older, circular, and still appearing raw.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted as a thick, muscular thigh presses deeper between your legs, forcing them apart. Without much thought, you begin to grind against it, a primal urge stirring within you. Despite the lingering soreness from yesterday, a fresh wave of need starts to build, and any trace of resistance fades in the face of overwhelming pleasure. It feels shameful, but you can't stop the tentative movements, slowly finding a rhythm—until the sudden flex of his thigh makes you gasp, your eyes rolling back.

“So needy,” he growls close to your ear but there's no trace of anger in his voice, if anything he sounds pleased. “Come on, ride it harder.” He punctuates the sentence with yet another flex of his thigh and a nip to your neck, making you shudder but follow through with his command. As you grind back against his thigh you take a note of his cock stirring, resting heavy and hard between your bare ass. You push against it absentmindedly and find yourself pinned under him, your legs still held apart with his thigh that's now embarrassingly slick with your arousal. The visual of it makes you turn your head away, eyes closed and whimpering. Ghost doesn't like that. His massive paw of a hand grabs at your cheeks, your lips puckering involuntarily while he grunts at you to keep those eyes open for him. As he licks into your mouth, it suddenly dawns on you—this is your first kiss. You had already let this beast inside you before even sharing a kiss, and everything felt so out of order, that it made you want to scream and cry. Instead, you settle on throwing your hands around him and clawing at his back as he aligns himself with your needy, sore pussy and thrusts to the hilt without so much as a warning.

Even after yesterday, the burn of the stretch to accommodate his length makes fresh tears spring up into your eyes and roll down the apples of your cheeks. You swear you see his scarred lips twitch up into a savage smile at the sight of them before he licks them clean off your cheeks with a satisfied groan. In retaliation you dig your nails deeper into his sturdy back, hoping to break the skin and leave a mark that only ends up urging him to fuck you harder, faster. The sounds reverberating in the room drive you crazy; over them, you don't even notice a soft knock at the door but whoever it was scurries away registering the sound of the moans he wrings out of you with one particularly hard thrust that pushes so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat. Effortlessly he manhandles your legs on his shoulders to hit a different angle. As you struggle with the overwhelming feeling of fullness he leaves a deceptively soft kiss on your ankle before he folds you in half again and wrestles another mind-shattering orgasm out of you and succumbing to one himself, painting your insides with his spent. Pulling out, he doesn't bother moving, he simply rests his head on your chest between your breasts, squeezing the air out of your lungs with the sheer size of him. “Rest now, pet. Plenty of time for more o' that later.”

At that moment, you know there is no turning back; you've been taken, branded from the inside out. You wonder if this is truly so horrible, perhaps this nightmare of a man will drive away all the other nightmares plaguing your mind.

Or perhaps he is even more dreadful than your imagination could have ever conjured.

taglist: @a66-1 , @ghostlythots , @rttxcmt , @september-22-1998 , @fluffysmiko , @gyusbrownie , @bumblebeesfromvenus , @magicalforestcat , @nommingonfood , @tami-doodles , @fateisnotafactor , @m-a-l-a-c-z-a-r-n-a , @nicolebarnes , @msdevil333 , @lilpothoscuttings , @tealeaftallulah , @not-reptilian , @moonfloweronmars , @aliceinwonderland-5678 , @marshmelloe , @i-love-you-just-the-same, @lazyperfectioniste , @tragedyinwaves , @thisisforthebest97 , @talkingcorn , @hxnneydew , @resplendantrosewood , @telvannitea , @the-casual-act , @hello-lemons, @kiwicopia , @just-a-sewer-goblin

#cod mw2 #cod x reader #x reader insert #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #bunnie writes #tw noncon #tw dubcon #simon riley x reader #cod smut

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imaginedisish · 8 months ago

Text

Everlong (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: This was not a request, just a thought I had and had to get out. "Everlong" by Foo Fighters just scratches my brain in a way very few songs can, and it fits perfectly for this fic. Hope you guys enjoy.

Summary: Logan offers you his bed as a friend, knowing how hard it is for you to fall asleep alone. But after months of sleeping next to him platonically, things finally take a turn...

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT! Thigh riding, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Cockwarming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint), cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, non-sexual intimacy to sexual intimacy, friends to lovers, man-handling, rough sex, afab!reader/f!reader, feelings, fluff, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 4,619 jeeeeeeezzzzz this is DEPRAVED

Sleep was hard—that is, until you started sleeping in Logan’s bed.

It had all started out so innocent. You were sitting on a couch in the study, flicking through the pages of your favorite book. You had just finished your fourth lap around the grounds of the mansion, and you decided you needed a break. The clock on the wall read 2:22 AM, mocking you, reminding you that of all the gifts you have, sleeping would never be one of them.

“What’re you doing awake?” You jumped at the voice breaking up the silence, but quickly recognized its bassy, deep tone. You turned to face Logan in the doorway.

“Just can’t sleep,” you answered, shrugging your shoulders. He wore a beater and gray sweatpants, and you struggled against the urge to trail your eyes up and down his body. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want him—you’ve wanted him for months.

Logan crossed his arms against his chest and smiled softly. “Can’t sleep either,” he said, taking a step closer. “You can come up to my room, if you want” he offered. “Next time you can’t sleep, or you have a nightmare, or you just can’t think of anything to do, come find me.”

You smiled at his words, at his kindness, at his willingness to help you. “Thank you, Logan,” you whispered.

“No problem, princess.” And then he turned to leave, walking back through the hallway and up the stairs to his room.

You’re still not sure what came over you in those following moments—still don’t understand where your confidence came from—but you forced yourself up from the couch and down the hall, following Logan’s path to his room.

He was already inside, already had the door closed, so you knocked. And the door immediately swung open. You swallowed, parting your lips nervously. “Lo, do you think I could take you up—”

But he didn’t even let you finish. He grabbed your arm and tugged you into the darkness of his room, navigating you carefully to his bed. He laid you down and walked to the other side, climbing in next to you. He brought the covers over your bodies, shuffling under the sheets, settling in, and then everything was silent.

You tried to get comfortable. You rolled onto your stomach and waited, eyes shut tight, hoping that sleep would take you under its current. But it didn’t. You rolled back onto your side, away from Logan, opening and closing your eyes frustratedly.

“You okay?” He asked. You could hear Logan inching towards you, his front suddenly pressing against your back.

You hummed in affirmation, leaning your back into him. He reached a tentative arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. “Is this okay?” He husked, his lips at the shell of your ear.

“Yeah,” you panted into the darkness of his room, taking shallow breaths, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You could smell him everywhere—on the sheets, the pillowcase, in the air of the room. It was all leather and musk and pine and denim. And there he was, holding you, his thumb drawing soft circles into your slightly exposed midriff. Something about it was overwhelming, but also comforting, as though all your senses were being cradled by him.

He could hear your heart beating, could hear your breath catching in your throat. “Relax,” he whispered. “I’ve got you. Go to sleep.” Your eyes fluttered closed, and you focused on Logan’s breathing. It was constant, stable, steadfast. He was so warm, so solid. And soon enough, you found yourself giving in to sleep.

You woke up a few hours later, the pale light of the moon still pushing through the curtains. Logan’s legs were tangled with yours, your face pressed into the center of his chest, his arm wrapped around your back, holding you tight. You tried to lift your head to read the clock behind you on the nightstand.

But Logan pulled you back down. “Go back to sleep,” he murmured against the crown of your head. “Too early.”

That’s how most nights have been since then—climbing into his bed, completely innocently, just to be able to sleep. He holds you all night, keeping you close. And when the sun finally rises, you both get up and head down to the kitchen, watching as Logan brews you a pot of coffee.

It’s shockingly domestic and incredibly intimate. And yet, the two of you have never talked about it. It’s a silent agreement, one based on pattern, convention, and repetition. These very events have played out more times than you can count—for months now. It has become so normalized that you don’t question it, don’t even think about it when you crawl into his bed, and he pulls you into his chest.

So, tonight starts out like any other. Your feet pad along the dark, mahogany wood floors, down the dim, quiet hallway, towards Logan’s room. You’re only wearing a pair of panties and one of Logan’s old t-shirts, the hem falling to the middle of your thighs.

You stand in front of his door and knock. You aren’t nervous anymore—aren’t anxious as he opens the door. He’s already shirtless, wearing just his boxers—which, however, is something you will never get used to. He smiles, his eyes trailing up and down your body as he steps to the side, inviting you in.

You know the drill by now—you walk to your side of the bed, lying down and pulling the covers up to your chin. Logan follows suit. You move in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence. It’s a silence shared by two people who don’t have to say a word, don’t have to communicate to feel connection. His arms wrap around your body, and he tugs you into his chest.

“Didn’t see you today,” he mumbles, his lips brushing your forehead. “Wish I could’ve.” His fingertips graze up and down your back, your t-shirt hitching up as you get comfortable, revealing your bare legs.

“I’m here now,” you whisper, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, smelling him, letting him overtake your senses. He tangles your legs with his.

“Is this my shirt, by the way?” he asks, his hands sliding down to the hem, which is now bunched up above the waistband of your panties.

You smile into his neck. “Maybe,” you answer, giggling softly.

His fingertips slip just under the t-shirt, tentative and hesitant, waiting for you to push him away, to tell him no. But you don’t. “Looks better on you than it does on me,” he husks, his thigh settling between your legs so that you’re straddling it.

“Th-thanks,” you stutter, trying to ignore the way he bumps against your core, the way his words make your heart race. You shut your eyes and wrap your arms around his center, letting him engulf you in his warmth. You swallow your feelings down and close your eyes. “Night, Lo,” you mutter.

“Night, princess,” he says, his lips against the crown of your head.

You listen carefully to his breathing, like you always do, and after a few moments, you find yourself falling asleep.

When you wake up a few hours later, your back is against Logan’s front. His arm keeps you pressed tightly to his chest, his nose nudging against the crook of your neck—you can feel his breath, warm on your skin. Your legs are intertwined, his knee just inches away from your core.

Logan moves in his sleep, his knee bumping against your core now, his nose nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin just under your ear. You take a deep breath, pleasure pulsing between your thighs as Logan moves again, his thigh dragging against you. You can’t help the moan that falls from your lips.

He moves again, and that’s when you feel it—his erection stiff against the curve of your ass. Heat spreads across your chest, up to your neck, your stomach somersaulting as his hips press harder into your ass.

“L-Lo,” you stutter into the darkness of his room. But he doesn’t answer. His thigh slides against your core again. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your panties. “Logan,” you choke, moaning louder this time.

He hums in response, nuzzling his nose deeper into your neck, his lips pressing against your skin—the ghost of a kiss. It’s too much—you want to grind down on his thigh, want to feel his cock pressing against your ass, want to feel his hips rutting against yours. You thought maybe this would happen, hoped that one night would lead to something like this, but you never dreamed it would actually come to pass.

Logan’s thigh rubs against your heat again, and you mumble his name, your breathing quickening. “Fuck,” you groan, involuntarily bucking your hips against Logan’s. His erection drags along your ass.

You force yourself to be still as Logan grunts into your neck. “You awake, pretty girl?” He whispers against your ear.

“Mhm,” you murmur, trying to play half-asleep. You don’t want to let on that you can feel him hard against you, and you pray you aren’t soaking through your panties and onto his thigh.

You swear you can hear him mumble a soft fuck under his breath. Your thoughts race around your head. Maybe he was awake the whole time. Maybe he felt your hips roll against him. Maybe he can smell the arousal growing between your thighs. You know he can hear your heart hammering against your ribcage.

But his arm tightens its grip around your waist, and he pulls you closer, holding you down against his thigh. “What were you doing, sweetheart?” He rasps, pressing a true, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. You gasp, a shiver running down your spine.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stutter, stumbling around your words as he kisses your neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin just under your ear.

He moves his knee, pressing harder into your core, dragging his thigh against your aching heat. You stifle a moan as he repeats the motion. “Felt you riding me, pretty girl,” he huffs, his hands gripping your waist, guiding your hips along his thigh. “Smelt you, too,” he whispers, his lips still at your neck. “Can feel that pretty, wet pussy dripping on me, darlin’.”

“Logan,” you whine, letting him move your hips back and forth. The pressure feels so good. You need more. “Please…” You trail off, grinding down onto him.

“Making a fucking mess of me, aren’t you?” He teases, his fingers gripping your hips like iron, so tight he might bruise. “Love watching you get off on me.” His voice is dark and honeyed, smooth like expensive liquor. Your walls clench around nothing as your clit drags along Logan’s thigh and you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder. “So sensitive, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you pant, letting him pull you back and forth. You’ll take anything you can get—anything he’s willing to give to you. “D-don’t stop,” you beg.

“Fuck,” Logan grunts. “Need me that bad, huh?”

“Y-you have no idea,” you stammer. He bites your pulse point as one of his hands wraps around your front, slipping inside your panties and finding your clit. “Oh fuck, Lo,” you whine, the pads of his fingers drawing tight, rapid circles around the bud.

“That feels good, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, and he’s getting off on it. You can feel his erection hard against your ass every time his hips buck into yours. “Bet it does, the way you’re soaking my thigh.”

“So fucking good,” you whimper. But you know you need more. You need him. “Logan, please…” You trail off, the words escaping you as pleasure pulses through your body.

“Please what, darlin’?” He teases, his fingers pulling out of your panties, his hands gripping your hips again, rolling you against his thigh. It’s not enough, and you groan at the loss of contact. “Use your words, sweetheart.”

“N-need more,” you croak, dragging yourself along him.

“More what, beautiful?” But you know he knows. You know he wants to hear you beg for it, wants to hear you beg for him.

“More of you,” you choke out.

“Yeah?” He chides, slowing the roll of your hips with his iron grip. “More of me how?” He’s so goddamn cocky, so unfair.

“I-I…” your eyes roll back into your head as he slowly, teasingly drags you up his thigh, pulling you against his erection and holding you there. “However you want me,” you whisper, pushing against his cock. “Just want you.”

He suddenly pulls away, his grip on your hips forcing you into the mattress as he rolls on top of you, caging you in, his hands on either side of your head.

Logan’s lips crash down onto yours, swallowing you hungrily, his teeth grazing your lower lip and licking away the pain. You part your lips, inviting him inside, tasting his tongue against yours. He slides a hand down your body, stopping at the hem of your shirt and yanking it up. He breaks the kiss to slip the shirt up and over your head, tossing it to the floor. He sits up on his knees, his eyes trailing your body, settling on your bare breasts.

“So fucking beautiful,” Logan praises, lowering down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand glides up your side and to your breasts. He palms your flesh, rolling his thumb over your pebbled nipple, pinching lightly. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” He traces across the valley of your breasts, his hand massaging the other side.

He grinds his hips into yours, his erection nudging against your core. “Wanted you so bad, pretty girl,” he pants, pressing another kiss to your lips. His fingertips drag down your body, gripping your hip tightly again. “Dreamed of fucking you, of tasting you.” He buries his face into the crook of your neck as he pushes you into the mattress, biting down on your pulse point. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.”

You moan as he sucks at your sensitive skin. “Want you, Lo. Need you,” you whine, your arms wrapping around his back, nails digging into his skin. “Always wanted you.”

He kisses a trail down your neck, to your collarbone, between the valley of your breasts. He slides down your body, peppering light kisses across your stomach, stopping at the hem of your panties. He looks up at you, his face illuminated by the pale, blue moonlight. You can see the desperation in his eyes, the need. He licks his lips—a man starved—as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties.

He tugs them down your legs, throwing them to the floor, and settles between your thighs. His face is just inches from your aching heat. Your chest heaves as he brings himself closer, his breath fanning across your cunt. You look down at him and find him staring up at you, watching your every move.

“Wanna know what you taste like, darlin’,” he huffs, his palms splaying on your inner thighs, spreading your legs wide open for him. “Want me to make you feel good?” His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs possessively.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, already arching your back off the mattress. “Please, Logan.”

He smiles, his eyes still trained on yours as his tongue swipes through your folds, long and slow, all the way up to your clit. “Fuck,” he mumbles against your core, flicking your clit, lapping at it twice before starting all over again. He licks another teasing stripe through your folds, landing on your clit and taking the bud between his lips this time. He sucks roughly, releasing your clit and swirling soothing circles around it. “You taste so perfect. Better than I ever imagined.”

He laves at you, devouring you, his head buried against your cunt. His right hand climbs up your inner thigh, nearing your folds as his teeth graze your clit. Your hips jolt back at the sudden feeling, and Logan is quick to slide his left hand under your thigh. He grips tightly, yanking you back to him, and pressing his face deeper into your cunt. “Don’t even think about it, pretty girl. You’re not going anywhere until I’m finished with you.”

You moan at his words, his right hand finally working its way up to your folds. His fingertips find your entrance, spreading your slick. “So fucking wet for me,” he murmurs, prodding your slit. “Want my fingers, darlin’?”

“Yes, Lo, please. Want all of—” He thrusts two long, thick fingers deep inside you, down to his knuckles. “Oh, fuck,” you cry out as he pulls out and slams back in.

His tongue swirls around your clit, his teeth grazing the bud every time he takes it between his lips to suck. It’s overwhelming, overstimulating, the way he laps at you, drinking you in, consuming you. If he could find a way to keep your taste on his tongue all day, he would. If he could slip under your skin to be one with you, to feel your warmth, he would. You know this isn’t want. This isn’t lust. This isn’t some one-off thing. This is need. This is longing.

Your eyes roll back into your head as he breathes you in, his tongue working at your clit as his fingers thrust in and out, dragging along your walls, scissoring inside you. “Doing so good for me, sweetheart,” Logan praises, and you clench down around him at the words. He smiles against your cunt. “You like that, don’t you? Like when I tell you just how good of a girl you are.”

Your walls flutter around him again. “I-I do,” you admit, your voice shaky as he fucks into you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every pump of his fingers.

Logan chuckles darkly, the reverberation pulsing against your clit. “That’s my good girl, giving me what I’ve been waiting for,” he huffs, lapping at you, sucking on your clit like it’s candy. “Would’ve waited forever for you.”

Your muscles contract and release at his words, at the intimate confession. “Would’ve waited forever for y-you too,” you whimper, his fingers still working you open. You’re so close. Fire burns at the base of your spine, your walls clenching around Logan’s fingers again as his tongue draws tight, rapid circles into your bud.

“No more waiting, beautiful,” Logan grunts, and you know what he means—he knows you’re close. “Wanna feel you come around my fingers, wanna taste it.” It isn’t a request; it’s a command. His fingers plunge deeper, his tongue laving at your clit roughly between sentences. “Know you’re ready to let go, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Come for me.”

You’re crashing down, falling, but not into nothingness—into Logan, into his warmth, into his touch. Your chest heaves and the room spins. Heat pours from deep at the bottom of your belly, fire spreading up your spine. Nothing has ever felt like this. His name is the only thing you can think, the only thing you can say: Logan Logan Logan Logan.

His pumps slow down, his fingers dragging gently along your inner walls until he stills inside you and carefully pulls out. His tongue is still lapping at you, still working your overstimulated clit.

“Logan,” you whine, your hands finding his head, digging your nails into his scalp. “Want you.”

He smirks against you, knowing full well what he’s doing. “You have me, darlin’.”

You groan, half in frustration, half in pleasure—the tension building back up between your thighs with every flit of Logan’s tongue. “Please,” you beg, tugging on Logan’s hair. He grunts at the feeling, smiling against your cunt again. “I want you, Logan.”

“Gotta be more specific, pretty girl,” he huffs, his face finally separating from your cunt. Your release glistens on his chin, his lower lip. He brings his fingers to his mouth as he waits, wrapping his lips around his fingers and sucking, savoring the taste of you.

“Want you inside me…” You trail off, watching as his fingers pop out of his mouth, his tongue darting out along his lower lip, rationing every drop of you he can find. “Want your cock,” you finally choke out.

The corner of Logan’s mouth turns up, his fingers hooking into his boxers and tugging them down. “Wanna fuck you so bad, beautiful,” he grunts, his cock springing free, bouncing against his stomach. He’s so much bigger than you had anticipated. You swallow nervously as he lowers himself down over you, resting on his forearm. “Thought about this for so long.”

His hand wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your folds. He swipes through you, spreading your slick, notching against your clit. You moan at the contact, your chest coming flush with Logan’s as your back arches off the mattress. “Logan, please,” you beg. “Just want you. Only ever gonna—”

He plunges deep inside you, down to the hilt with one thrust. You’ve never felt so full—his cock thick and long, splitting you open. His presses a kiss to your lips, swallowing your moans as his tongue darts out, tangling with yours. He’s still inside you, stretching you out, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. “You okay, pretty girl?” He asks as his lips part from yours.

“Y-yes,” you stammer, your arms wrapping around his back. “Feels good. So big.”

Logan pulls out and thrusts back in, splitting you open again. “Fuck,” he groans, his forehead resting against yours. “So fucking perfect. So tight, so warm. Made for me, darlin’.” Your eyes flutter open and closed as his free hand slips between your bodies, quickly finding your clit.

“Lo,” you whine as his fingers draw tight, rapid circles into the bud. He sets his pace, pumping in and out of your cunt with reckless abandon. His hips rock against yours, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing along the walls of the room.

“Knew you’d feel like this,” Logan soothes, flicking your clit as he fucks into you. “Knew you’d feel this good. Wanna be inside you forever, princess.”

His lips find yours again, his teeth tugging on your lower lip and then sucking the pain away. It’s rushed and frantic, like he’s dying for more, searching for a way to reach deeper inside you, to feel all of you at once.

He ruts into you, his hips snapping, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust. He pinches your clit roughly, and your back arches off the mattress, your chest pressing against his.

“No idea how much I wanted you…” You trail off as his cock pounds into you. He’s still stretching you out, still working you open.

Logan moans your name, his cock throbbing at your words. “Wanted to fuck you that first night you came in here,” he whispers at the shell of your ear. “Wanted you before that too. Knew I needed you the second I saw you.”

The confession rocks through you. You think of all those nights spent next to Logan, all those stolen moments. He wanted you—needed you the whole time.

“Lo,” you hiccup, his fingertips swirling your clit, his hips rocking against yours. He sinks deep inside, again and again, pumping in and out. Your walls flutter around his cock, dragging him in deeper.

“Fuck, pretty girl,” he groans, sliding out and plunging back in. “Squeezing me so good, taking me so well.”

Tears brim in the corners of your eyes at the pure pleasure drumming through your bones. You know you’re close, know you’re almost unraveling underneath him. Logan flicks your clit, drawing hard, rough strokes around the bud. You’re on fire, and you’re burning for him.

“Logan I-I…” You stumble around your words, unable to form a coherent sentence as he pounds into you. Your walls flutter around him again, and his cock twitches inside you at the feeling.

He groans, your name on his tongue like a prayer. “I know you’re close, pretty girl.” He throbs inside you, and you know he’s almost there too. “Wanna make you come again,” he grunts, pulling out and pumping back in. “Know you have another one in you, sweetheart.”

He’s right. You can’t hold on much longer, but you want this moment to last. You want to feel his cock dragging along your walls, filling you up, splitting you open. You want his chest flush against yours. You want to feel the way he bites your lip and sucks away the sting he leaves behind. You want it all—all of him—and you don’t just want it right now. You don’t want this to be a fleeting moment. You want it to be forever.

“Come on, beautiful,” Logan pants, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering. He twitches inside you again. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He strokes your clit, drawing those quick circles into the bud. “Let go for me. Know you want to,” he breathes, his forehead resting against yours. “I’ve got you, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

His words overwhelm you, and you let go. It’s all more forceful this time, more powerful, your body trembling, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as wave after wave of pleasure tears through your body. It feels like blinding, searing heat, spreading like a forest fire.

Logan is right behind you, moaning your name, his cock throbbing against your walls. “Gonna fill you up, pretty girl,” he husks, his chest heaving. You whisper a soft, pleading yes. “Fuck, gonna make you mine,” he moans. His cock throbs again, and then he’s spilling inside you, filling you with his release.

His fingers rub gentle strokes into your clit, his cock slowly pumping in and out before stilling inside you. His fingers slip away from your clit, his hand traveling up your body, and rolling you over so that you’re side by side, facing each other. He pulls you into his chest, his cock still deep inside you.

Logan’s arms wrap around your back, caressing your bare skin, tracing patterns and shapes with his fingertips. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head as you bury your face into his chest.

“Wanna stay inside you,” he mumbles against your hair. “Wanna keep you close.”

“You can,” you whisper, your heart hammering. “Wanna stay close, too.”

He presses another kiss to your head. “I’m not going anywhere,” Logan soothes, his fingers running up and down your spine. “Gonna want you forever.”

You lift your head to look up at him, his eyes immediately meeting yours. “Forever?” You ask, but you know it’s a dumb question. You know he’s telling the truth.

He smiles and nods. “Would’ve waited for you forever,” he says, pausing, his throat bobbing as he swallows. “Never felt this way before, pretty girl. Never felt this real, this perfect. Don’t wanna let you go.”

“Don’t,” you whisper into the darkness of his room. “Please.”

“I won’t,” he coos, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I won’t.”

His breathing steadies, and you listen to him like you do every night. Your eyes flutter shut, and you drift off to sleep with Logan’s cock deep inside you.

Forever. You think as your mind goes quiet and sleep drags you under. Forever.

Everlong.

tags: @ricefordays-blog1 @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @alsoprettyinpink @figsnpassionfruits @spiderset @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @starrdustss @wittyjasontodd @pedrohoe04 @fanfic-writing-barbie @evasmlp @derbygracie @cosmiccandydreamer @honeyfewr @movhoney @manipulatour @rammakela *I am so sorry if I forgot to tag you*

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littledes1re · 17 days ago

Text

Neighbours help pt. 2

Pairing: Old!Joel Miller x fem!reader

Summery: After this thing happened between you and your neighbour, you have been avoiding him at all costs. But one night he comes into your apartment, wanting to fix something he thinks it’s broken so he can see you again. Aka..he finally fucks reader😌

Warnings: 18+, Angst, praise kink, overstimulation, size kink, squirting, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, fingering, big cock joel, pinv, pet names, big age gap! (reader is 25-26ish and Joel is 60), switching between POV’s, hair pulling, Dom/Sub undertones, Mean!joel, but also Soft, joel mocks reader, really sensitive reader, darcyphilia, kinda naive reader, kinda pervy!joel

A/N: I didn’t think pt.1 was gonna do so well that people would ask me for pt.2🤭 i’m so thankful, but especially to @keseqna because they gave me the idea!! <3 I don’t know how to do a Masterlist so all my blurbs/writings are under #des1rewrites !!

“…Not want your annoying little ass anywhere near my apartment anymore, s‘that clear?“

This sentence has been stuck in your head, repeating over and over since the last interaction you had with joel. But not just in your head but somehow also in your heart too. Like a sharp blade, stinging you constantly, whenever it gets quiet and you remember what happened. Whenever you see him on the apartments hallway, completely ignoring you, sting. The times you come on your fingers, with that scenario in mind, imagining his hands gripping your skin, the texture of his jeans underneath you, the sweet pet names, sting. Because you bring to mind how he mocked you, how he looked at you and how he didn’t want to have anything to do with you after that.

You felt embarrassed, ashamed and hurt. First, you didn’t know what got into you on that day. Second, it would’ve been much more easier to handle this guilt afterwards if he was young and wasn’t living right next to you. His age turned you on, the roughness of it all. The manliness that comes with handling everything himself, demanding personality and the stern nature. But he was much older than you and you knew all the risks that came with dating much older men.

You didn’t know yourself like this. Being struck by a man, completely forgetting morals and self respect and just going dumb, while he mocks you. And then riding his thigh because he showed you one second of his soft side. Maybe he was just hurt? Maybe he was just joking around?

You slapped your hands on top of your face, squeezing your eyes shut and trying to overcome the sense of embarrassment. Apparently you were too naive and you also knew that you still wanted him. That you could not turn it off, you could not just ignore the throbbing between your legs, you could not ignore the attraction you felt for this man. He didn’t want you, he made it clear. But gave you a taste of what to except from him and left you with longing for more.

—

Joel wasn’t doing well either. The guilt was butchering him, it was unbearable and the fact that you really stopped with all of your annoying greetings and random visits made his stomach turn just more. Hell, they were not annoying. He was just being dramatic, messing with you. He knows that he is grumpy, he knows that he is annoyed with everything and maybe not the most nice human being but how could he? Since he lost his daughter he could not feel an ounce of happiness. He locked himself up from the rest of the world and let nobody in, wanting to protect his already broken heart and just live his life. In peace.

You come here with all that happy and quirky attitude, caring for him and being all joyful. He didn’t need that right now, he wasn’t— heck, he wasn’t ready for that. But deep down he knew that you didn’t deserve that. Even if the mean behaviour got you gushing like a faucet, it okey for him to call you annoying and that he didn’t want you near his apartment again. You are living alone, what if you need something? Advice, an open ear? Food? Something he has to fix? …to cum again?

Whenever he saw you he excepted a little ‘hello’, a smile, a something. Your face lacked any expression, your body moving fast to open the door and get in before he has to stand there with you. After that he realised what kind of damage he had done.

The day he let you ride his thigh was unusual, he was going to fix the damn fridge and would be out of there in 10 minutes. Then he saw how restless you were, leg shaking, eyes glassy and thighs clenching. Poor girl, he thought to himself. Was him sitting there and trying to read the instructions making you this restless? It was surprising, but nothing that he wasn’t excepting as he always saw how you looked at his arms or torso whenever he was outside, packing his car or when you visit him. He knew you needed to get it out of your system once in a lifetime to leave him alone, but what if he needed it also?

It was also crystal clear that he wanted you. I mean who wouldn’t? Pretty thing like you, swaying your hips from left to right, always trying your best to have manners and be nice, sweet doe eyes and a beautiful smile. He felt guilty, he was old, too old to be in your business, he would ruin you. It was killing him getting off on his fist with the thought of you and only you.

It was the middle of the night and you woke up at 2am, feeling this need and throbbing between your legs. Again. Your sleepy state of mind didn’t do much of thinking as you slide your hands down to your panties and started to rub your clit, eyes closed and lazily. The wetness spreading through your folds as you tiredly moan into the quiet room. Hips bucking in the need of wanting something more, something that leaves you as satisfied as the day your fridge broke. Joel.

You finger rubs faster with every breath that you take, the squelching sounds of your wetness getting more and more louder, just like your moans. Flashes of joel come up in your mind, the beautiful brown eyes, big strong shoulders, his rough hands and beautiful hair coaxing you into your orgasm as you start to cry out his name into the night until— a knock on your door.

You sit up as quick as you never did, the tiredness long gone, you wipe your fingers on your panties. Eyes widen you ask yourself who the hell it that is knocking on your door at this hour. Your pulse still high from your stolen orgasm going higher because now you are kinda scared.

Standing up slowly, you move to your door. Gently listening, trying to figure out if there was really someone standing there. But you could hear nothing.

You opened the door slowly, peeking trough the small gap and seeing him standing there. Hands on his hip, jacket and jeans still on. You swallowed, what the hell was he doing here in the middle of the night? Why was he still wearing his work clothes and looked like he was sweating? Your eyes widened just more, he was the last person you excepted on your doorstep.

“Open up, girl. S’just me.” He muttered, clearly trying to keep his voice down, not wanting to disturb your other neighbours.

“What do you want?” You whispered quickly through the gap, earning a sigh, his hand running through his curls.

“Just need to talk about something, open up. It’s important”

The confusion grew just bigger and bigger while in the pit of your stomach fear start to spread. Did he hear you?

you slowly backed off and opened the door for him. His huge frame didn’t change a bit, he just looked at you, the familiar brown eyes scanning you from head to toe. Your cheeks flushed, realising what you are wearing. The thin white silky nightgown you just bought, under that just your panties.

His breath hitched as he saw you like this. Your head was looking down, your arms nervously playing with the hem of your gown and if the moon didn’t shine trough the window, thank god it did, he couldn’t see your perked up nipples and the little panties you wore, the dress just barely covering your thighs. He was about to lose his god damn mind.

You looked up to him baffled, how he had the audacity to come to your apartment after telling you that he didn’t want you anywhere near his apartment.

“Uh, how ya’ doin’ girl?” You could hear the uncertainty in his voice. He looked around the room, his eyes always falling to your body, but looking quickly away but you noticed.

“What do you mean how am I doing? I’m trying to sleep?” You exclaimed, clearly getting frustrated and unpatient, crossing your arms on your chest.

“Yea, yea. You’re right. Disturbed ya huh?”

What the hell was he even talking about? Was he drunk? Did he really hear you? your nervous system almost falling apart at the thought of him hearing you moan his name at the night and him coming to you to ask you about it.

“Steve called me. Said there is something goin’ on with the sinks and the pipes, need’ta have a look.”

Steve, the landlord of this apartment complex. Something about this story wasn’t adding up, he looked so unsure, looking trough the room, avoiding your eyes.

“Steve? Called you? In the middle of the night?” You asked suspicious, his eyes landing on you.

“Yes, in the middle of the night because it’s an emergency, girl. Now if you would let me just quickly look into your bathrooms sink, I will leave the princess alone so she can get her beauty sleep.” His voice was rough, like he just woke up from his sleep. And that tone, annoyed and acting like he knows it all, no one should contradict him. So stubborn.

You looked at him up and down, something still wasn’t adding up. This was sure not a very logical story. Why couldn’t steve just call you? Why was he sending joel? And whatever is going on with the pipes, you definitely didn’t notice anything different while doing your nightly routine. So what was all of this about?

He sighed.

“Girl, listen. Ain’t happy about being here too, but I gotta look into this, promise I leave as soon as possible”

Deep down you were somehow happy to that he was here. His presence felt warm and the scolding and annoying tone felt familiar, like nothing happened between you two. But of course your body was betraying you once more, the aching and stolen orgasm from earlier was still present. Like an uninvited guest, pushing you further and further into an uncomfortable situation that you didn’t want to repeat again.

“Okey, come with me”

Joel didn’t know what the hell he was doing here. Not a single brain cell acted with caution in this scenario, not one thought came into his mind that told him it was a bad idea. He heard you moaning out his name.

Again.

He hears it every god damn night and it drives him absolutely mad. There is this little angel laying in her bed, desperately pushing her small fingers into her cunt, knowing it’s not enough, aching and begging for him and something more, for something bigger and something that full fills her completely. His cock throbbing like it hadn’t in the last 20 years, his heart aching, just wanting to be there and fill you to the brim, fuck you thoroughly and good just the way you deserve.

So he had enough, knocking on your door in the middle of the night like a mad man. His story dumb and not logical and if you were to ask a little more about that he probably would’ve run away in embarrassment. The sight of your small frame in that little tiny silk dress made it all worth it for him tho.

“Sorry, s’a mess in here. Not excepted any visitors.”

You stood there in your small bathroom, showing him your sink and he immediately got into his knees looking for the pipes underneath.

“S’okey. Not used to seeing something else anyways.” He chuckled but you didn’t smile nor did you make any expression because you were still mad at him.

He looked through the pipes and you looked at his board shoulders and back. But after a while it seemed to you like he didn’t know what he was doing. He just rolled the tubes around, inspecting them like they were showing signs of something wrong but there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Agonising 5 minutes you stood there behind him, your back against your washing mashing and him still not doing anything but just inspecting and touching the pipes. You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?

He turns around, looks at your eyebrows pinched and his gaze fall on your body. The bathroom was well lit so now everything was on display, your gown being see through and the cold in the night making your nipples hard, the patch of wetness visible on your panties.

Joel was about the lose it. He clenched his jaw, his eyebrows furrowing just more, his mouth going dry and the bulge in his pants making him uncomfortable, he could no longer deny the fact that he just came here because he wanted to see you—see you and totally take care of you.

“Can hear ya always, y’know?”

Your heart dropped, goosebumps spread all over your body as you looked at him dumbfounded. Completely loss at words as he just chuckled at your reaction.

“The walls are thin, sweetheart.”

Warmth spreading across your panties, a little gush. Your cheeks heated and red, you looked down, embarrassment washing down on you. Not only he was aware of your attraction to him, but also the way he had an influence on you and your body. Like he knew it like the back of his hand, knew what buttons to push to make you silent pliant doll for him.

Apparently that’s why he was there and somehow, you were happy. Somehow the deep embarrassment was leaving slowly by slowly and you completely wanted to give yourself to him, let him take the lead and do whatever he wanted with you.

Joel stood up, his tall frame caging you. His rough hand slowly landing on your hip, squeezing the flesh and earning a yelp from you. His tobacco and whiskey tinted smell clouding your mind once more, the desperation transforming to need.

You looked up to him while his hand explored your body, squeezing there and there, landing on your tits, massaging them roughly while giving extra attention to your perked up nipples, gently pulling them and pinching them. Your head fell into his chest, whining at the feeling on your breasts. He cooed into the room.

“Poor fucking, baby. Poor baby, got you so fuckin’ needy. Yea, got you so fucking needy baby.”

You felt like crying at how much needy he got you. His hands left your tits, gently grabbing your neck, then your hair tugging at it, making you look up to him with glassy eyes and a pleading look.

This is what he wanted to see. This fucked out look, lips swollen, eyes glassy and full of desperation and he didn’t even do anything yet. So easy to get worked up, so responsive to his touch.

He gently neared his lips to yours, you eagerly connecting them, kissing them with a whine. He was caught off guard but figured it out as the kiss intensified, his hands still in your hair, he made a pony tail tugging at it whenever you became too desperate, nearly bitting his lips off.

As he pulled away, you whined, always whining for his touch and his guidance. He looked at you for a good moment before tugging again on your hair making it fall back, revealing your neck to him. He hungrily kissed every inch of your cleavage, sucking marks there and on your neck. The impatience was growing, as you started to move around too much he pulled your hair again and strategically put his knee between your legs.

“Fucking desperate. How the hell am I supposed to work with this huh? Fidgety little girl. What are you gonna do when I bounce you on my cock? Gonna break it in half hm?”

“Nuh uh” you cried out, his knee starting to rub your cunt again just like the day he wanted to fix your fridge. His hands were still tugging your hair as you slowly get off to his knee, him just fixated on you, eyebrows pinched, completely mesmerised by your pleasure.

“Nah baby. We gotta set some rules. You wanna keep doin’ that, i’ll leave you with nothing. It’s either listening to me or I have you unsatisfied crying in your bed because your little fingers are not enough for you to get off.”

You nodded instantly, pausing your movements on his knee and looking at him as he let your hair free and slowly moved to the strings of your gown. Letting them fall down your arms and revealing your tits to him. He immediately latched on to your left nipple sucking and biting while you were controlling yourself not to buck on his knee.

“You do what I say when I say it, we clear?” He asked, your tit leaving his mouth with a pop.

“Yes”

“Repeat it.”

“I do everything you say when you are saying it.” You obediently repeated him, looking into his darkened eyes waiting for him to answer.

But he had other plans.

You yelped out as he unexpectedly hooked two fingers into you. You couldn’t even comprehend in what time he pulled down your panties and slid his hands down there. He groaned as you harshly tugged on his arms, making him closer then he already is, pressing you more into the washing machine behind you.

His fingers made a squelching sound whenever he drew them out and plugged them back in. Silent moans leaving your mouth, his fingers way bigger than his. It was stretching you, such an unusual feeling, hitting just the right spots you didn’t even know their existence about.

Sure you had sexual encounters before but none of these people ever took their time to really pleasure you.

Joels hand was dripping with your juices, it soaked his fingers full but he didn’t stop thrusting them into your cunt, not even when you shook your head from side to side babbling something about toomuch t-toomuch.

His gaze never left yours as he fucked you open, sometimes scissoring and curling them in you.

“Shh, shh. That’s it. Crying on two fingers already, how are you gonna take my cock hm? Have to stretch you out properly.”

Your fists were weakly banging on his chest as your body moved up and down on his fingers, your hips sitting on top his leg and back against the machine behind you. Your tits gently moving along the thrusts, he enjoyed the show, his face smug and knew that the pleasure was unbearable for you.

He pressed the palm of his hand on your clit, gently stimulating it while your legs completely shook, your body gone limb as you cry out into the bathroom cumming all over his fingers. Joel’s fingers slowed down but still going in a good rhythm so you could ride out your orgasm properly.

Your breathing was still coming in quick, you laid your head on his chest and started to calm down.

“Talkin’ about too much. Little cunt s’gonna take more than that now, baby.”

“Mhm, please” you whined into his shirt, his fingers were still inside you, not moving, just gently feeling the pulsing and clenching of your cunt. The mess you made on his hand was still dripping down.

He took your hair into his fist again and tugged you back. It was hard for him to control himself when you looked like this, he didn’t even do much. One orgasm and you were trembling. Eyes red and swollen because you cried, cheeks still wet and mouth full of drool. What was he gonna do to you on his cock? Break you apart?

“Fucking hell, drooling and crying all over yourself. Look at ya. Pretty fucking girl” he kissed the your tears away, kissing your forehead, your chin and then your lips again. You lazily kissed him back, the energy and eagerness already slowed down with the release, you were floating.

You suddenly broke the kiss, crying out, feeling his fingers going in and out of your cunt again. He chuckled, tugging at your hair and pulling you into the kiss again. There was no time to think for you, he was overstimulating you every second. It was so sensitive that tears started to form in your eyes again.

“Mhph—please. Not again.” You whined shaking your head escaping his kiss.

He mockingly pouted at you, slowing down with his fingers.

“Gonna replace it with my cock and show you what to cry and pout about, hon. S’that what you want? Without proper stretching? Poor cunt would get all achy, baby.”

You wanted him to fuck you, truly. But at what state this was going, it would probably hurt a lot. So you listened to him and let him finger you again, your pussy clenching releasing gush after gush. You bit your lips as he started going faster and harder again, body moving up and down as you buried your face into his neck, now fully sobbing at the overwhelming stimulation.

“Just one more, c’mon angel. Cum on my fingers, show me you can take my cock”

You bit down his jacket, this one coming very tingly, stronger than the first one but more releasing, like a relief washing over you. You bucked your hips into his fingers, him holding you and sitting you down on the washing machine finally. With his other hand he rubbed your back up and down, while he slowed down with his pumping in your cunt.

“Atta girl, s’what i’m talking about. Always listening to me.”

He grazed over your little clit with his palm once, twice as you let the aftershocks of your orgasm settle in. You didn’t even notice when he picked you up and went to your bedroom.

He gently laid you down on your bed, your head completely clouded, legs spread as you burrowed your face into one of your pillows, humming.

“What a sight. Pretty girl on her pretty bed, swollen wet cunt on display, clenching on nothing.”

Joel took his jacket off while speaking, then his jeans dropped down, seeing his hard bulge absolutely leaking his shorts full. It was truly a miracle how he didn’t already cum in his pants while fingering you.

The bed weighted down as you felt him get on top of you, putting the pillow away from you and looking at you like a little puppy.

“Hi.” You squeaked.

“Hi, baby. Already getting tired on me?”

You shook your head. “No, jus’ feel good”

He chuckles at that, kissing all over your face and peking your lips.

“Now you gonna feel even better, honey.” you looked down seeing his huge cock out, angry leaking tip, twitching and releasing pre cum all over. His tip was huge and the rest of it girthy and big, and on the end there was his salt and pepper bush, covering him all over.

“S’huge” your worried eyes found him as he slowly started to jerk off his cock, squeezing the tip lightly making it ooze some precum out.

“Yea, that’s why. I told ya.”

Your cunt was begging for him to finally fuck you, but you were still worried that it might hurt you.

“Gonna take care of you, don’t worry baby. S’okey.”

His reassuring words made you feel safe, warm and bubbly, you loved his soft side. His mean side was hot but this side you preferred more. You gently run your head through his curls, tugging him for a kiss. He hummed into the kiss, deepening it, his cock slowly starting to stretch you out.

“When you want us to stop baby—fuck. Ya just scream red, s’ that clear?”

“I scream red, yes.” You repeated him just like he told you, earning a kiss on your forehead for that and a little good girl.

At first it was a slight stretch and sting that made you mewl into his lips, but he hushed you, slowly feeding his cock into you, slightly pulling out and doing the same again.

You pulled away from his lips with a cry, tears starting to form in your eyes as he gently held your left cheek, whispering sweet nothings, looking into your eyes. His other hand coming on your little button, swollen from the previous releases, he starts to rub you gently.

Your whimpers turn into little moans as you clench down on his cock that’s only is halfway in there.

“Doing so well, honey.” He whispered “so so well.” and that with another rub on your clit was all it took for you to come on his cock again. This was the most powerful one. Your whole body shook as you buried your head into the pillows on top of you and joel making holding you close to him, as you ride out your orgasm. He grunts, trying not to cum with you clenching down on his dick hard.

Joel takes the chance to fully insert himself into you while you were still dealing with the climax, face still buried in the pillow, the moans filling the room, he loved every second of it. Turned you into a crying mess. Daddydaddydaddy you whimpered into out, his eyes widened, a deep growl coming from him, his cock in you throbbing with need.

He felt absolutely feral, he didn’t give you time to adjust you on his cock and placed his hands on your waist, slowly but surely thrusting in and out of you, your gushing heat perfectly hugging him and the lots of cum you already released mixing perfectly with his pre cum, making it easier to just hold you and fuck into you.

This is what you needed. You were always imagining this scenario in your head whenever you got off, imagining him taking care of you, handling you and making you feel safe in his arms.

“Was right with stretching you out huh? Look how easy you are taking this cock in you, baby.”

He held your neck, pulling you away from the pillows, making you slightly sit up and watch how his shaft is disappearing completely in and out. You whined, legs shaking as you tried to escape from his grip so you could burrow your face into the pillow again, but he didn’t let you.

“Nuh uh, watch how i’m fucking ya.” He growled, his hips never slowing down on you, your cunt feeling too good, too tight. He never wanted to stop.

“Always with the tears. Just crumbling all over daddy’s dick. S’what you are good for, dumb little girl like you”

So he kept fucking you.

In and out, In and out.

The matress underneath you completely soaked with your mess, one of his hands patiently rubbing your clit while the other one wiping your tears away. His lips always grazed yours, placing kisses all over your neck, suckling, knowing you are going to be all bruised up tomorrow.

“Please—gonna—daddy.” you cried out, his cock leaving your pussy as you squirted into his torso, your body shaking, legs going numb and your face completely sobbing.

“Fuck, angel. Keep going baby.” He kept rubbing at your little nub, while you released gush after gush, your body completely exhausted at this point, going limb on the mattress. It was unbelievable, you never squirted before and it felt like heaven came down on you. The pleasure was unbearable at this point, your cunt completely overstimulated, swollen and red. You looked up to him, breathing heavily you saw him jerking off his cock, dangerously close to your pussy. He wasn’t going to fuck you one more time right?

“S’too much”

“Y’know what to say, when it’s really too much.” He sternly told you, holding his hand on your chin making you look into his eyes. You nodded, mouth dry not having the energy to repeated anything right now. Luckily he accepted that.

Your body completely bucked and shook as you felt his cock entering you once more. Your fists tried to fight him off, but there was no use. He began thrusting again, he held your face in his hands and just stroked the tears away.

“Shh sh. None of that. C’mon now, with daddy. One more.”

He fucked you absolutely without slowing down. Your throat was hurting at how much you were sobbing and pleading him no. But he wasn’t letting up.

“What if I fill ya up hm? Make this belly full.”

You shook your head, eyes widening as he chuckled.

“People—the people are gonna talk. Would kill you”

“Yeah baby? They would kill me? For filling you up, making you a mama? What if we test that theory out hm?”

You couldn’t help but clench, his smugness turning you on, the way he insisted doing whatever he pleases, your mind going to the morning after pill you still had in one of your drawers. The relief washing over you, as you buried your face into his neck, feeling his thrusts getting messier and messier.

Your nipples were rubbed raw on his shirt, your hands tugging at his curls, his lips attaching them on your neck. He was growling and moaning into your ear, you’ve never heard something hotter.

“S’that what you wanted? Old man fucking you, filling you up, making you his hm? Taking care of you. Just like the little pillow princess she is” your hips bucked up to him, matching his thrusts, you were close.

“Please— s’what I wanted uh huh, yes” you nodded your head quickly, feeling his lips forming a smile on your neck.

His thrusts grew sloppier and sloppier and as you felt his muscles clench and one of his hand sneaking down, starting to rub at your poor sensitive clit again.

“C’mon with me, baby. One last time, cum for daddy angel.”

This one was more soft and more loving than the other ones because you guys came together, you clenched down on his dick while he released in you, filling you up.

He grunted into your ear while slowly and surely he was done, his cock growing soft in you. You kissed him on the cheek, making him look up to you. His face was exhausted pretty brown eyes droopy and lips were swollen. Now he was the one who truly looked fucked out. He smiled to you, feeling tiredness overcome him as he softly buried his face into your neck and closed his eyes. You stroked his curls, his back making him hum. And then you heard snoring coming, knowing he fell asleep.

“Poor old man.” You closed your eyes too, satisfied.

That was A LOT. I hope this somehow makes up for tomorrow’s episode (i’m not ready). Again, feedback is gladly appreciated, i’m still new to writing. i’m so happy that lots of people liked the first part and now I have almost 200 followers which is crazy! 😭🤭

Thank you for all the people reading and especially for the people who wanted a pt. 2! @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @iamsherlocked-1998 @viicwz @jasminedragoon @pedroswife69

#des1rewrites!#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller tlou #joel x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou #the last of us #old!man joel #dom!joel miller #smut

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bbyg4rl · 3 months ago

Text

make it fit ♡

cw: bf!JJ x reader, smut, aftercare, fluffy, happy ending !

summary: your bf's dick doesn't fit in you, so he makes it fit. MDNI

< size kink x100, use of papa J, aftercare, established relationship, fluffy, little overstimulation, unprotected piv sex, cream pie, slight praise kink; switch!jj and breeding kink if you squint >

a/n: for my short baddies ong !!! this also sooo self indulgent bc im also a 4'11 baddie 😫‼️

He didn't fit. It was as simple as that. He was just too big for you. Admittedly, that was what drew you both to each other in the first place— You loved how he enveloped you completely, how you had to stand on your tiptoes just to barely reach his face.

He loved how your face was barely the size of his hand. He'd always felt so small in his life, it was refreshing to feel so big near you. And boy was he big.

This was the first time you both were having sex together. You had the whole house to yourself, You were propped up on his lap, his big hands wrapped around your hips as he guided you against the bulge protruding out of his pants. The Tv playing in the background conveniently forgotten as you rutted into each other.

"I want you" you whisper to him in between soft pants. His eyes flicked open, intrigued at your words.

"Are you sure baby?" He asks you with an eyebrow raised.

"I'm ready" the words gush out of your mouth when his hands tighten around your hips.

He didn't need to be told twice, like clockwork you were lifted up from your seat on his lap and carried off to his bedroom. He laid you down on his bed, quickly discarding his clothes to climb on top of you. He peppered sweet kisses on your body as he slowly undressed you.

"you're so beautiful" he uttered as he faced your core, letting his fingers lightly dance over your clit.

Not an inch of your pussy is untouched by him. He's making out with your folds like its the only thing he ever wants to do. He's eating you like its his last meal on earth. He's pulling sloppy mewls out of you at every thrust of his tongue into your cunt. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, holding you down as he devours your pussy, restricting any movement you might make.

It's not long before he has you teetering over the edge of ecstacy. JJ notices as your hips buck into him harder and your wrists clench tight against the sheets.

"Give it to me baby. Give it to papa J" he hums against your heat, the vibrations from his mouth snapping the coil in your stomach instantly, making your back arch painfully.

He's reduced you into a creaming mess on his tongue. Moaning into you as you clench around his tongue desperately riding out your orgasm.

He pulls his head away from your arousal, his chin and nose covered in your cum as his fingers lap up the cream leaking out of you only to shove it back into you, He's fucking you with his fingers, watching with delight as your face scrunches up because of the overstimulation.

"Already so full baby?" he mocks you with faux sympathy in his voice as your walls spasm around his fingers in need.

"Ready for me mama?" He asks, his gaze locks in on your pussy, lust clouding his bright blue eyes.

You merely nod at his words, unable to let out anything other than moans from your mouth. He pulls his hand away from you, licking the arousal off his fingers.

"Use your words baby. Do you want this?" He asks, as he wraps his hand around his dick, beads of sticky precum leaking from his slit. He gives it a few strokes, low moans leaving both your mouths when he gives your clit a few taps with his tip.

"Please JJ. Need you" You mewl. Your words are like music to his ears, his hands reach under your knees to prop your legs upon his shoulders.

He reaches down to guide his cock to your heat, his tip nudges at your opening a few times before he starts pushing. Only- he struggles to push in.

Your face turns red as he tries to push in again, His face twisting in confusion as he drops your legs to your side to give him more space to work with.

Neither of you could lie and say it didn't turn you both on infinitely more when JJ struggled to fit inside you.

"J, it doesn't fit-" You moan as he tries to push again. A little embarrassment taking over your features as he struggles against you.

"Then I'll make it fit" His eyebrows furrow as he nudged his tip into your opening again. His hand left your thigh to place his fingers on either side of your hole, holding you open. His eyes find yours "Trust papa J princess?"

You nod and close your eyes in preparation. His eyes move back to your pussy. He starts bullying his dick into you slowly. Soft whimpers leaving his lips as your walls clamp down on him instantly.

"Fuck baby, you're so tight"

He pushes in more, wanting to feel your tight walls around all of him. Your eyes shoot open when you feel a sharp pain in your upper abdomen. He quickly connects his fingers to your clit, trying to soothe the pain.

He knew if he pulled out now, he wouldn't be able to last pushing his cock back in again without immediately climaxing. His attack on your clit works, pleasure taking over pain as he starts pushing again. He wasn't even halfway done yet but you could swear you felt him in your throat.

JJ was sure he'd see a bulge in your stomach when he was done. The thought making his dick twitch in anticipation.

Finally, he bottoms out in you. You're panting like a dog trying to adjust around his length. "So big" you whisper as you look down at him. His eyes trained on your pussy, silently admiring how beautiful you looked all stretched out for him.

He looks at you for approval before he starts slowly thrusting. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you feel inch after inch of his dick as he moved, it hurt a little but was quickly replaced by pleasure as JJ started rubbing hearts on your clit pushing you to reach your edge.

He eventually starts thrusting faster, desperation taking over his actions. His eyes were locked shut at the feel of your walls tightening around him so deliciously.

"Jay- I'm gonna-" you mutter as you near your edge, JJ's hand moves faster against your clit, encouraging you to finish around his dick.

"So perfect-" he drags his words as you clench hard around his dick, He relaxes for a second giving you both a moment to fill your lungs with air.

Before you know it, He's fucking you harder and harder. Now chasing his own climax. His thrusts leave you so overstimulated there's tears in your eyes. He bends down to kiss your lips.

"You're so perfect for me baby" he says as he buries his head in the crook of your neck "Please let me finish inside" he whimpers in your ear. His pleads send butterflies down to your clit.

"Please cum in me" You say as an attempt to push him over the edge, earning you a soft groan from him. His thrusts start to get sloppier as he shoots white ropes deep inside you with a moan so loud even your neighbours probably heard. He bites down on your neck, leaving small hickeys as he continues fucking his cum deeper into you.

He slowly pulls out. Shifting to the edge of the bed to catch a glimpse at his cum oozing out of your worn cunt. He pushes it back in with his fingers.

He presses a kiss to your clit and gets up in search of a towel to clean you up and gets you a glass of water before carrying you to the washroom to let you pee. After he's done taking care of you, he gives you his shirt to wear and snuggles you into him, holding you close as he peppers your forehead with light kisses and whispers sweet nothings in your ear. You drift off to sleep safe in his arms.

check out my other works ! masterlist

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lucidfairies · 1 month ago

Text

— mess around (part two)

part one • part three • part four

synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing

pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader

warnings: cheating, dom!sev, sub!reader, reader is bolder in this one, face sitting, fingering, finger sucking, size kink, back shots, breeding kink, rougher than part one(!), light bondage, sevika is a bit meaner in this one but not outside of sex, new pet names (!!!!), choking, thigh riding, cum plug

a/n: I want to make it very clear that even though pregnancy is mentioned several times, r will never get pregnant with an unwanted child or with the husband figure, it's solely for plot !

wc: 4.4k

collaboration: my biggest love and thank you to @sevsgiirl for literally leading me through this and giving me all the ideas and also reading my rough drafts lol! 🙏🙏

Sevika was obscenely tired. This was her third week running only getting two hours of sleep, tossing and turning, unable to fall back into sleep. When she did sleep, it was short and light, not sufficient enough. It was eating her alive.

There were a number of reasons - her dog had been sick for days, the horses needed a different feed schedule, she briefly had to travel up North to visit relatives, changing her time zone. But most of all, and most obviously, you.

Everything about you. Your eyes, your hips, your smell. The way your hair flicked when you walked, your smile when you greeted the neighbors, the way you knew something about everyone. You were the complete opposite of her, and it was driving her mad.

She hated you. Hated your perfection, and the blush in your cheeks. She hated the way you dressed, pretty sundresses that hardly past mid thigh, bows, and those fuck ass boots. She hated you because she needed you.

She was desperate to get you a real pair of boots, ones that weren't from some northern shop impersonating southern culture. She needed to show you off and parade you around, have you sit on her lap at the bar with her hat on while she played poker, and tell everyone that you were hers.

But that wasn't ever going to happen. You were never going to be hers, divorce was too much of a hassle for a woman like you, who probably wanted a million things she couldn't give you.

“Babe, can you come here?” Your husband called you from the kitchen. You were perched on your bed, folding the week's laundry. You stood and made your way to the kitchen, stomach twisting. Ever since your night with Sevika, your husband wanting to speak to you worried you. There's no way he found out. But what if he did?

“What's up, honey?” He beckoned you to sit down across from him at the small table, and you did. He had papers in his hand, messy scribbles covering the page.

“I wanted to have a serious conversation about kids,” he paused for a moment while his words sank in, “I asked you to stay home so that we could start our family, but you keep declining to actually start it. I can't keep you home like this if you aren't going to do anything.” You sighed.

You knew this was coming - every time he brought it up, you shut it down. Every time you slept together you had him wear protection, or you made sure you had taken the pill that morning. You couldn't identify why you didn't want to have children with him at the moment, but the feeling was there, and it was strong.

“I'm just not ready yet,” you insisted, “if you want me to go to work I can, but I do quite a bit around the house. Just because we don't have children yet doesn't mean that my work is diminished.” You stood your ground, annoyed at the constant assumption that you didn't do anything.

“Babe,” he sighed angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose while he formulated what to say, “every time we talk about this you say you're not ready. We've been married for three years, when will you be ready?” You shrugged, embarrassment getting the best of you. “You only have so many years to have kids. I can’t sit around and waste them while you figure out if you’re ready or not.”

His words were like a punch to the gut, especially because you knew them to be true. You got into this relationship and eventually this marriage knowing his intention with children, and up until recently, you thought you shared that intention. But the longer you thought about bearing his children, the more displeasing the thought became.

“We can start trying, then. But not until next week, come July.” If you had to do it, you would at least have it when you wanted to. Your husband grinned, rising from the table to give you a hug, and press a kiss to your head.

“I’m glad it’s time,” you put on your best fake smile, “I’m headed to bed. Mind cleaning up?” He waved towards the dinner dishes as he walked towards the bedroom. “See you tomorrow, my love.”

You sat in your seat at the table for a long time, simply looking at it. Sevika’s words from the night she had dinner rang in your mind like a screeching alarm - I’m a capable woman, babygirl. I can clean my own plate. She wanted to help, even after working all day. She chose to help.

Before you could choose the wiser, you were shooting up from your seat and clearing the dishes into the sink. You washed them quickly, not bothering to scrub very hard before tossing a robe over your shoulders and slipping on some shoes. Quietly, trying not to wake your husband, you peeled open the door and slipped it shut, sneaking down the steps carefully. You knew where they creaked now, you had lived here long enough for that.

There was a clunking sound and loud groan when you knocked on her door. Part of you hoped that, if you knocked softly enough, she wouldn’t hear it, or that she would be asleep. The other part of you begged to see her, even though it wasn’t right. Something about her drew you in, wrong or right.

The door flew open, and there stood Sevika in all her glory. Except, she didn’t look as if she felt glorious. There were eye bags under her eyes that made it look as if she hadn’t slept in a week, and her face was angry. Her downturned lips only frowned further at the sight of you, and you felt small, beginning to question your decision.

She must’ve noticed. Her face softened, still angry, but not as angry as before. She simply looked at you, waiting for something. “Hi Sev,” you whispered, meekly. “I don’t really know why I’m here.” You looked over your shoulder, gazing at the home that was calling you back, the husband that was asleep in the bed you shared.

“I can’t help you with that, sugar.” She said, gruffly. “When you know what you want, come and find me.” She went to close the door, but on instinct, your hand flew out to stop it.

“Can I come in?” She looked at you for a moment longer, eyes sullen and mind begging to send you back home. But she opened the door nonetheless, allowing you to step in. You had never been in Sevika’s home, but it looked just like you would think. Clean, homey, a little boring. Lots of pictures of people you didn’t recognize, aside from the ones you met at the bar.

“What can I do ya for, angel?” The name made you breathless. It effortlessly brought you back to when she had you riding her, calling you angel.

“I thought maybe we could talk,” You moved through her house slowly, taking a spot in the living room. It felt embarrassing, inviting yourself in like this, late. “Unless you’re sleeping. I understand if I woke you.” She punched out a laugh.

“I ain’t slept in weeks,” she plopped down across from you, the L shaped couch making it easy to see her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Husband doin’ you wrong?” You considered whether you should answer yes.

“We’re going to start trying for a baby,” you told her, cringing at the sentence. You could see her face drop and her eyes change, but she was quick to recover. “I’m not sure I want to.” Your gaze fell to your hands as you crossed your ankles.

“Want to try, or want to have a baby?” She clarified, brows knit as she leaned back and fell into her manspread once again.

“I guess both,” you sighed, “I don’t know if I’m ready to have a baby with him, and the trying part..” you trailed off, considering your options as to how to phrase what you wanted to convey. “When we.. did what we did, it was much more fun than when my husband and I sleep together,” a proud smirk found Sevika’s lips. “He’s very boring, he doesn’t like to try things. In out, in out.” You made a gesture with your hands and she laughed. “He’s always on top of me, it never really changes. I don’t like it.”

Sevika hummed. There were so many ways she could take this. “You don’t say,” her accent was thick this time of night. It made you wonder what she was thinking about. “So you want somethin’ rougher?” You nodded slowly, not 100% sure what ‘rougher’ meant. “Tell me, sugar, has anyone ever bent you over?”

Your eyes blew, and your lips parted. Sevika’s clit started to beat at the expression. It was perfect, she longed to frame it. “No, I don’t believe so.” She tapped her thigh, looking at you with low eyes.

“Come,” she instructed, and for some reason, you stood, and found placement on her thigh. Her hands gripped your hips in a tighter grip than the one she had the first time you were like this with her. There was something different in her now. “Tell me what you want. What he isn’t giving you.”

You thought for a moment. “I’ve always thought about having my hands bound,” you told her, quietly. You let out a soft gasp as she used her tight grip on your hips to roll them forward slowly. “I don’t know how that would work, but I’ve wondered. Sometimes I think about my throat..” Once again you trailed off, unable to formulate the right thing.

“What about your throat, darlin’?” Sevika pushed, bringing you down on her thigh again.

“Having it squeezed, being choked in a sense.” Sevika let out a soft ‘mhm’, reaching up and cupping your face, swiping her thumb along your bottom lip before her hand fell to your throat, gently wrapping around your windpipe. Your hands rushed to her wrist as she tightened her grip, forcing your head up. She held you there, large hand wrapped tightly around your throat while her mech hand worked with your hips.

The fuzzier your brain got, the better the muscle of her thigh felt under you. Sevika rocked you and rocked you until you were finding your own pace, forcing your cunt down onto her thigh in rapid, uncoordinated motions. You were so close, stomach twisting as you gasped for air under Sevika’s hand, just for her to hold you down and restrict your movements. “Sevy,” you whined, trying to push and get to your finish.

“No baby,” she hushed. “Y’r gon’ have to wait. You can do that, can’tcha?” With a huff you nodded, wondering how long you’d have to wait. What did she even mean by ‘wait’? Sevika lifted you off her lap and stood you up, standing with you and pressing a hand into your back, pushing you until you began walking.

Her bedroom was lovely. She had a large bed, probably because she was so tall. The sheets were a dark shade of purple and made, creating a clean look for the already clean room. Once you got in the room she shut and locked the door, as if anyone else would walk in. “Sit. I’m gonna get some things, sugar. I’ll be right back.” You sat on the edge of her bed and watched her move around, first grabbing a box from a drawer and then leaving, returning shortly after with a bunched up rope.

“What’s all of that?” You asked, trying to catch a glimpse of what she had aside from the rope. God, of course she had rope. She was a rancher after all, she probably took it from the stables. She sat her things down on her nightstand next to her bed, turning to you.

“Nothin’ you needa worry your pretty little head about, sweetheart.” Sevika came to you and leaned down, tilting your chin to her and capturing your lips in a kiss. It grew from a chaste kiss to a feverous one quickly, with Sevika bearing down on you, pushing her weight into you, making you hers, just for tonight. She pulled away from you, climbing into and laying back on the bed. “Get up and strip for me, peach.”

“What if I want you to undress me?” You pouted. It felt strange, acting like this. You wanted her hands on you, you didn’t want to bother doing it yourself. That’s what you were here for. Not having to do things yourself like you did with your husband.

“You said you didn’t want borin’,” she said, nonchalantly, as she laid back and placed her human arm behind her head, muscles flexing in the best way possible to keep her upright. “So get up and strip.” Huffing, you did as told.

You would never have looked at the situation and called it something as vulgar as a strip tease, but the slowness of you stripping yourself and the way Sevika’s eyes fell upon your body as you did made the thought cross your mind. You were slow to pull your pajama top up, slow to slide your pajama shorts down your thighs, slow to rid yourself of your panties. God, she could come off the sight of it.

Once you were naked, she beckoned you over with her mech hand, having you sit in her lap. “You look so damn pretty like this, all naked in my lap.” She felt as if this was her first time having a woman in her lap. She didn’t know where to start, all of her favorite things were before her, yearning to be touched and pulled and sucked.

She leaned into your neck, sucking the skin there briefly before traveling down your body. She caught your nipple in her mouth, and by some miracle, you could’ve sworn it felt better than the first time. Maybe it was because, in her lap, you had something to grind down against when her teeth clashed over the sensitive spot in your nipple, and when she pushed her tongue up into the spot after nipping it.

“Sevika,” you moaned, head thrown back as she did her best work on your tits. Fuck, your tits. She barely thought about them the first time, but now? Now. She got to see them in all their glory, nipples perky and waiting, so fucking ready for her. She didn’t even bother with her mech arm, she needed to feel you. Feel the way your nipple hardened when she rolled it between her fingers and feel the way you gasped and ground down on her every time she made you feel good.

She made you feel good. Nobody else. Only her.

She switched tits, and she couldn’t resist rutting up into you when a string of drool dripped from your boob. She didn’t even realize she was sucking enough that drool could fucking drip from you nipple, but it was a sight from God nonetheless.

She took much longer on your tits this night than she had the previous night you spent together, and it was lovely. But, to your humiliation, you had completely soaked through her pajama pants. The material was thin, but it was sopping from your grinding and dripping. She could feel it on her leg, and the feeling was driving her up the wall.

Sevika didn’t find herself begging very often, especially not at the mercy of a woman she had in bed, but when her eyes fell between your wet nipples and the patch on her thigh, she couldn’t find herself doing anything but. “Please ride my face, sweet thing, need y’on my face.” Her hands rested on your thighs in a tight hold.

You sat up, going up and up until your cunt rested over her nose, and your thighs found purchase on either side of her head. She brought her hands to your hips and pulled, dragging you down onto her mouth. You were quick to learn that sitting on Sevika’s face was the best feeling you’d felt at this point in your life.

However, you were also quick to learn that her nose had more purpose than just fitting her face and breathing. Your clit found purpose on her nose while you rode her tongue, so much so that it made the experience that much better. You must’ve looked like a fucking slut the way you were humping her face, but the feeling of her flattening her tongue and letting you take control was one that you never wanted to escape.

Your orgasm hit you like a punch, making you double over on her face. With ease, Sevika lifted you off her face and pinned you to the bed by your lips, licking you up and making your legs shake around her head. “Sevy, it’s too much,” you whined, but she didn’t care to listen. Her middle finger was pushing against your entrance no matter how much you whimpered and moaned, finding solace in your pussy as she fucked you again.

Her pace was ruthless, fucking you with two of her fingers and arching them into the best spot inside you. You were gripping the sheets, arching your back, doing anything you could to get away from her relentless abuse of your cunt, but she was stronger than you, and you loved it.

Sevika loved it too. She loved the way that, if she wanted to, she could get you to do anything she wanted. You were easy to hold down, easy to pick up and throw around the room, she loved being bigger than you. It drove her mad, the way you looked next to her, or under her, or better yet, on top. She simply couldn’t get enough.

“We’re gon’ try somethin’ new, peach,” she kissed your pelvis, overtop where her fingers were still logged inside you. “I’m gonna stretch you out, make you all good and ready for my dick.” The words hardly registered in your head before a third finger was probing in your entrance. And it hurt. Three of her large fingers were wider than anything you had taken before, and it made you wonder how wide her strap was if her fingers were stretching you this much.

“Vika it hurts,” you cried, and she paused, letting you adjust to the feeling before pushing more in you. She adored the view, the way your pussy gaped and pulled her in. With little further struggle, all three fingers were knuckle-deep in you, and you were clenching tightly around them.

“That’s my pretty girl,” her voice was hoarse, watching you take her. If this was this good, she couldn’t imagine what her strap would look like bottomed out in you, greedy pussy sucking her in. She fucked your cunt slowly, building up your orgasm with each pump, until you were on the brink, and once you were there, she attached her lips to your clit and sucked, pulling everything she could out of you.

You came again with a shriek, overstimulation getting to the best of you. She had you coming for maybe a full minute, getting everything she could out of you before stuffing her fingers in your mouth. You hoped this would become a routine - her fucking you then making you suck your cum off her fingers. The way she looked at you was irreplaceable.

When she was finished, she was giving you a whole new set of instructions. “On your knees, face the headboard.” You did as told, waiting patiently as she trifled through her things. You felt the bed dip and her body take position behind you. “Gimme y’r hands, bunny.” The new nickname had you reeling.

You placed your hands behind your back and she gripped them both in her mechanical hand, and soon after, you felt the rough material of rope lacing your skin. She pulled tight, letting the scratchy material dig into your skin. “Be good, or I’ll have you comin’ till you can’t fucking think.” She whispered in your ear, placing a small kiss below your ear before pushing you forward and bending you over.

With a squeal, you went cheek first into the pillows, ass up. Sevika pressed her mech hand into the arch in your back, pushing down and down until you were arching up as much as you could. Sevika smirked, not that you could see. You looked so pretty like this. Your pussy was drenched, waiting for her dick. She swiped two fingers through your folds, collecting your wetness and smearing her strap with it, before lining her tip up with your entrance.

You whimpered when she pushed into you, the feeling different than her fingers. It was different than anything you’d felt - the rubber wasn’t warm like when you got fucked by your husband, obviously, and as she bottomed out, it was insatiably better than any way your husband had fucked you.

Maybe her strap was longer, or maybe it was the position she had you in, but the stretch of your cunt and the feeling of her being in you made your head spin. She pressed a firm hand into your shoulderblades as she began to work her hips, fucking you gently at first. She couldn’t watch anything but the sight of her strap disappearing fully in you, and it was growing harder and harder each breathing minute to restrain herself from fucking you as roughly as she could.

Really, there was no luck for her the minute your little uh, uh uh’s started, matching each thrust as the air got punched out of you. She grabbed your hip roughly and fucked into you harder, the skin of her thighs slapping loudly against your ass as her pace quickened.

“Fuck baby, y’r so good, such a good pussy.” She groaned, base of the harness fucking against her clit in just the right place. Her pace only got faster, and you were practically crying to god. It was no less than the best thing you'd felt in your life.

“Vika,” you moaned, dragging out the ‘a’ while her pace grew restless. She needed your pussy. It was like she was high out of her mind, addicted to your body and your cunt. “Vika, Vika, oh, daddy!” Her hips came to a stuttered stop.

Before you could apologize, her mech hand was wrapping tightly around the back of your neck and pulling you up off the bed, against her chest. She continued her original pace, the new angle hitting even better than before. “You call y’r husband that, sweetheart?” She groaned.

“No,” you whined, and she grabbed the rope, pulling you into a deeper arch against her. “Just you, Vika.” Her head fell into the crook of your neck with a deep groan.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she pushed you back down, reaching around and rubbing your clit with her human hand. Her pace and the clit stimulation had your stomach twisting. “Wanna put a baby in you,” she moaned before she could think. The conversation you guys had early resurrected in her brain, and the thought of fucking a baby into you, just the thought. Fuck, she could've come on sight.

“Please,” you whined, high pitched and fucking disgusting. “Put a baby in me Vika,” she was going to fucking explode. Her hand found your throat again, leaning over you and squeezing as she fucked you as deep as she could. You were so fucking close, the feeling almost overwhelming.

“Gon’ make you a mama, peach,” the idea crawled into her mind and she knew it would never leave. Fucking you pregnant with her baby. If she could, she would never stop. “Fuck,” her moan was much higher pitched than any of her others, and you could tell she was growing just as close as you were, “take it, take it, take it,” she moaned in between thrusts, hand only tightening around your neck. “Fucking take it, nghh,”

You came at the same time, but you could barely keep yourself from coming again when she reached down and squeezed, filling you up and leaving you spent. You moaned again, rocking back into her.

She pulled out slowly, letting you adjust to being without her as your cunt drooled. You went to move and she slapped your ass, making you yelp. “Stay.” She commanded, and you did.

It was truly a humiliating position. You were ass up, drooling like a fool while her cum dripped from your cunt. When she came back, she had a toy, and she wasted no time pressing it into you. “Keep this in ya’ till you get home, y’hear me? Need you full of my cum, bunny.”

She unraveled your hands and you rolled over, the plug shifting in you just enough to roll against your sensitive g-spot. “How'd you like that, pretty? Rough enough for my girl?” You watched as she stripped herself of her strap and put on a clean pair of purple boxers.

You simply hummed, shifting in her bed and rolling onto her pillows. “I like you a lot, Sev.” You mumbled, fuzzy, fucked out brain speaking before registering. “Wanna keep coming over.”

Sevika sighed. “Wish you could, sugar plum.” She came to you and rubbed your thighs. “But for now, you oughta get home. Y’r husband's waitin’,” you groaned, shutting your eyes tightly. “‘m sorry, angel.” You sat up, letting her bring your clothes to you.

“Where are my panties?” You asked with a pout as you trifled through the mound of clothes she presented you with.

She pressed a kiss into your forehead, but you could feel her smirk under it. “I’m keepin’ those, peach.” You giggled, slipping your top over you and standing to slip your shorts up. “You best do what I say ‘nd keep that in you.” Her tone was low as she watched you dress from her relaxed position on the bed.

“I will,” you promised, reaching over and placing a finger kiss on her lips. “Wish you could watch me drip, though.” You pouted.

“Don't say shit like that,” she growled, “or I'll have you bent over again.” You shrugged, smirk painting your lips.

“Bye Sevy,” you said quietly as you slipped on your shoes and robe. “I'll see you.” She sent you a short goodbye and you were leaving her home, traveling back across the ride and into your house.

What a life, you thought. You spent the time before you fell asleep thinking about what life would be like with Sevika. Having Sevika’s babies, walking down the aisle to Sevika. And boy, it was good to think about.

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#sevika #sevika x y/n #sevika x reader #sevika arcane #arcane sevika #arcane smut #arcane league of legends #arcane league of lesbians #league of lesbians #league of legends

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babeforjjmaybanks · 5 months ago

Text

orange soda crush ༊*·˚

pairing: popular!rafe x shy!femreader ౨ৎ

summary: rafe's grades were slipping, to say the least. your school assigns you as his tutor, hoping maybe you could save him. one afternoon, rafe shows up to your house with in need of some help.

warning(s): dry humping, fingering, finger licking, mentions of biting (hickeys), thigh riding, marijuana use, swearing, size kink if you squint, mentions of scratching, slight overstim, rafe becomes whipped so possessiveness, innocence corruption(?), praise, slight perv!rafe, titobsessed!rafe, dni if you don't like!!!

mentions of: rafey, rafe is called a "sex symbol", y/n, sweetheart, good girl, baby, sweet girl, dumbass, needy girl, slut, doll, cute, pretty ౨ৎ

a/n: if not known already, this is basically a obx highschool au, pogues and looks still exist but it's more like jocks and nerds. both reader and rafe are seniors, not minors! I don't have much experience with writing fics but here's my current fixation, enjoy & leave notes! <3

word count: 4168

divider by: @issysh3ll

y/n had been sitting quietly in her history class, the bell signaling the end of the period ringing in the distance. she was gathering her books when the overhead speaker crackled to life, interrupting the usual noise of students packing up.

"pardon this interruption, y/n l/n, please report to principal phelp’s office immediately."

the announcement hung in the air, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. she froze, a slight chill running through her. she wasn’t the type to get into trouble—her grades were impeccable, she kept to herself, and she was always on time. so why was she being called to the principal’s office? her mind raced through all the possible reasons, none of which seemed likely. had she missed an assignment? was there a mistake with her records? or was it the skirt she decided to wear today that definitely didn’t meet the dress code?

her heart pounded as she made her way down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. as she approached the principal’s office, she noticed the usual hustle and bustle of students outside. some of them exchanged glances, their curious eyes following her every step, looking her up and down with whispers and sly looks. when she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly.

"come in," came the deep voice of principal phelps.

she opened the door to find him sitting behind his desk, a manila folder in front of him. the room was neat, almost too perfect, the smell of old books and polished wood filling the air. but what really caught her off guard was the figure sitting across from him.

rafe cameron, the school's golden boy.

her stomach dropped. rafe was sitting with his arms crossed, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he looked over at her. His messy curtain and athletic jacket seemed almost out of place in the sterile office, like he didn’t belong in this space. she had always known of him, of course. he was the star quarterback, the guy everyone knew by name, the one who seemed to glide effortlessly through life. and now, here he was, looking at her as if he had all the time in the world, while she, on the other hand, was caught off guard and confused.

"there she is, come on in we were just talking about you." principal phelps said with a warm smile, though she could detect a hint of urgency in his tone. "take a seat."

she sat down hesitantly, trying to avoid looking directly at rafe. the tension in the air was palpable, and she was acutely aware of how out of place she felt in this situation.

"y/n," principal phelps began, folding his hands in front of him, his expression turning serious, "I’ve called you here because I need a favor. you know rafe, right?"

you glanced at rafe again, his eyes diverted to something else in the room as if he wasn’t staring at you. he seemed unfazed by the situation, though there was a subtle flicker of something in his eyes. "um, yeah," you said quietly, not sure where this conversation was going.

principal phelps nodded. "well, rafe here has been struggling in a few subjects. he’s having difficulty with math, english, and history.” principal phelps cleared his throat trying to ignore the fact that he named almost every class. “and unfortunately, his grades are slipping dangerously low. If he doesn’t get his grades up, he could lose his eligibility to play on the football team, which would jeopardize his scholarship opportunities." he paused, giving her a moment to process the gravity of the situation.

she blinked, her mind racing. rafe? struggling? the same rafe who could probably get away with doing the bare minimum and still pass every class? the same rafe with the fancy sport cars and the fancy mansion he threw ragers in? (allegedly, she’s never been to one.) the same rafe who had never so much as acknowledged her existence in all the years they’d been in school?

"I’m asking you," principal phelps continued, leaning forward slightly, "to tutor rafe for the next few weeks. he needs to pass these subjects to stay on track. and I know you’re one of our top students, y/n. you’re smart, diligent, and patient—exactly what rafe needs right now."

rafe shifted in his chair, his smirk faltering for just a moment. "yeah, sweetheart," he added with a lazy grin, "I could use your help. think you can handle it?" he glanced down at her thighs, and then back up at her. she felt her face flush at the sudden name.

her mind was spinning. she had never thought of rafe as anything more than the popular guy—someone she’d seen in the hallways but never really interacted with. actually, that was a lie, the thinking part. she actually would think about rafe alot when she was bored, specifically his toned body and the way he bit his lip when he was thinking. she had no idea how to deal with someone like him.

"I—I don’t know," she stammered, feeling her face flush. "I’m not sure I’m the right person for this."

principal phelps’s voice softened, but there was still a sense of urgency in his words. "I’m sure you are. rafe, here, is a good kid at heart, but he’s under a lot of pressure. If you help him out, it could mean a lot to him—and to his future."

rafe’s eyes met hers again, and for a split second, she thought she saw something other than cockiness—a hint of desperation, maybe even embarrassment. but it was gone before she could fully understand it.

she took a deep breath. she had never been one to shy away from responsibility, even if the situation seemed overwhelming. she didn’t want to be the one to deny him help, especially when it could affect his future.

"okay," she finally said, her voice steady but unsure. "I’ll help."

principal phelps smiled, relief flooding his face. "thank you, y/n. I know this is a lot to ask, but I think you’re exactly what rafe needs."

as she stood up to leave, she felt the weight of the task ahead of her settle in. she glanced one more time at rafe, who was still sitting there, his posture slightly more relaxed now. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension between them already starting to form, a mix of uncertainty and something unspoken.

"see you tomorrow, then," she said, her words more for herself than for him, before leaving the office to prepare for what was about to be an unexpected and challenging journey.

over the past two weeks, y/n and rafe had settled into a rhythm, though it was far from smooth at first. their tutoring sessions started awkwardly—rafe's usual cocky demeanor clashed with y/n’s quiet, no-nonsense attitude. he would slouch in his chair, often cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments, testing her patience. but y/n, determined to get him through the material, refused to let him off the hook. slowly, she found ways to get through to him, breaking down complicated equations and historical events into relatable, bite-sized pieces. rafe, surprisingly, started to respond. he still struggled, but he began showing up earlier for their sessions, staying later, and even asking questions without the usual bravado.

as the days passed, the tutoring sessions shifted from strictly academic to more personal. one evening, as they were going over a particularly difficult history assignment, rafe let slip that his father had been pushing him to be the perfect athlete, to always be "the best." "It’s not just about football," rafe admitted, his tone more vulnerable than she had ever heard. "I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know?" y/n was taken aback. she had always seen rafe as the confident jock, but here was a side of him she hadn’t expected—a young man weighed down by more than just his grades. she listened quietly, offering a rare, understanding smile that made rafe pause for a moment. after that, their sessions felt different. the walls that had once separated them began to crumble.

In the weeks that followed, their conversations drifted beyond just homework. rafe started sharing bits of his life with you—how he used to love painting when he was younger, how he struggled with anxiety before big games, and how he was terrified of failing his senior year. you, in turn, opened up as well, telling rafe about your dream of becoming a lawyer and how you often felt like an outsider at school. the two of you discovered common ground in your shared feelings of pressure, and the lines between tutor and student began to blur. with each passing session, you became more comfortable with one another, a connection forming that neither had anticipated—one built on mutual respect, trust, and the quiet bond of shared struggle.

it was a quiet evening when y/n heard the unexpected knock on her door. she glanced at the clock—there was no study session scheduled for that night, so she wasn’t expecting anyone. her parents were out, and she had been planning on catching up on some reading. she opened the door, a little confused, only to find rafe standing on her porch, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. his usual confident posture was gone, replaced with an uneasy slouch. his eyes were almost bloodshot, and he wore an unfamiliar look on his face—vulnerable, even fragile.

"rafe?" y/n asked, surprised. "what are you doing here?"

he ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a small, strained laugh. "I—I know this is weird. but I, uh... I had a fight with my dad. a big one. he’s pissed about my grades and shit again, and he’s been on my case all week." rafe hesitated, biting his lip as if trying to hold back a wave of frustration. "I... I got high. like really fucking high I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t handle it. and I needed to get out of there." he looked down at his shoes, his words a little rushed. "I just—" he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d—just let me hang out for a bit. I didn’t know where else to go. I didn't wanna seem like a pussy to all of my dumbass friends."

y/n stood frozen for a moment, processing his words. she had never seen him like this. the rafe she knew was always in control, always surrounded by his friends, the football team, and the unshakable air of confidence. this version of him—lost, raw, and uncertain—was a stark contrast. her heart softened at the sight of him, and despite the oddness of the situation, she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"come in," she said, her voice gentle. "let’s sit down."

rafe walked in slowly, his movements sluggish, still unsure of what to say. she led him to the living room and handed him a glass of water, sitting down next to him, a soft hand placed on his back. the room was filled with the low voice of lana del ray and soft hum of the evening, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. rafe finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a look of quiet gratitude mixed with embarrassment along with something untraceable. "I didn’t mean to show up like this, but I didn’t know who else I could trust with this."

y/n’s heart tightened. she had no idea how much weight rafe had been carrying, how much pressure he was under from his father and the constant expectations of being perfect. In that moment, she realized how little she had truly known about him, and yet here he was—vulnerable, raw, and seeking comfort from the one person he had never expected to rely on.

"you don’t have to explain," she said softly. "I’m glad you came." she gave him a weak smile, rafe felt his heart flutter. "so.. how'd you get high? is that stupid question? sorry, you know people are bringing cocaine back into school." he chuckles, she lets out a giggle. "no cocaine here sweetheart, just this." rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a weed pen, but y/n had never seen anything like it. it was super colorful and weirdly shaped, not like the ones she would see in the bathroom. "can I hold it?" she glanced at rafe, her doe eyes dimly lit with the faint lighting coming from the lamp in the corner. "why? you smoke? no way." he raised his eyebrow at her, but handed her the pen anyway.

"no, I don't smoke but.." she pauses, biting her lip, "I'm tempted. maybe you're just a really bad influence." he scoffed at her, "give it a try, just hold the button and pull it." y/n stood at the device in her hand uncertain. "what do you mean pull?" rafe held back his laugh, she shoots him a glare. "I'm serious." she playfully shoved him.

"yeah yeah I can see that, by pull I mean, suck on it I guess." her face heats up, cursing herself for letting such innocent words cause a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "okay, I'll try." she focused her attention of the pen and did as rafe said, she put the pen up to her lips and "sucked." rafe watched intensely as her lips wrapped around the tip of the pen, he swallows hard. trying to keep his composure, aka stop staring at your boobs in your thin strapped top or imagine your lips wrapped around his dick like that.

you slightly inhale the smoke and it immediately gets caught in your throat. you're now in a coughing frenzy, embarrassed as rafe pats your back. "atta girl, that's how you do it don't try to hold it in, let it out." y/n found herself coughing even more at the sly remarks. she stands up and walks over to the kitchen hastily grabbing an orange fanta from the fridge. she struggles to open it due to her latest french tip set, rafe notices her struggling and walks over. he opens the can with one hand with a sizzle pop! noise, she brings the drink to her lips hoping to relieve her dry mouth.

after taking a couple minutes to calm down, y/n offers rafe to come up to her room. it comes off as a surprise, rafe had never been anywhere in y/n's house except the living room and kitchen, never upstairs. but with no complaint, he follows behind her, watching the way her ass moves as she climbs up the steps. they make it to her room and it's safe to say, it was tidy. everything seemed like it had a place, and the room was lit with purple led's. but the best part of it all, was her bed. the mattress was extremely comfortable and she had an abundance of pillows as well as plushies.

"yeah this fits you, like a doll in a dollhouse." he walks around her room a bit before sitting on her bed getting comfortable.

meanwhile, y/n on the other hand was in a whole other world.

her ears were burning almost, she could hear her heartbeat and her whole body was tingling. she felt nothing short of amazing, euphoric even.

the usual walls between them had melted away, and now, as the evening dragged on, the space between them felt more intimate than it ever had before. there was movie was playing on her TV, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in it. they were both laughing at the silly dialogue and weird moments on the screen, but most of the time their eyes kept drifting back to each other.

rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "you know," he said, arms wrapped around her waist as she sat on top of him, "this is the most chill I’ve felt in weeks." his eyes were a little glassy, but his smile was genuine, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. "It’s nice being away from everything… away from the pressure."

she nodded, her head slightly spinning from the effects. the room felt warmer, the air thicker, and rafe’s presence seemed to fill the space between them in a way that felt new. he shifted, his chest brushing against her back, and neither of them pulled away. It felt like a small moment of intimacy, unspoken yet undeniable.

"yeah," she replied, her voice quieter now, "it’s nice not to think about all the things we’re supposed to be worrying about."

"I wonder, do you ever worry about me? think about me at night?" his tone was teasing, but there was something more behind it, something she could feel but couldn’t quite place. It was an invitation, but also something more—like a question she wasn’t sure how to answer. "so much goes on behind those pretty eyes."

y/n felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered it. part of her wanted to stay upright on his lap, maintain the little distance they had been keeping, but something about rafe’s tone, the way his eyes held hers, made her hesitate. she wanted to trust this moment, to let it unfold without overthinking it. she melted into his touch, resting her head in the crook of his neck, thighs pressed together. "I do."

rafe shifted to make room as he breathed in the scent of vanilla, the bed soft beneath him. the air between them was electric now, charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to break. the movie was still playing, but neither of them were paying attention to it anymore. they were closer now, the space between them reduced to nothing and for the first time in a long time she wasn't sure of something, she wasn’t sure if she was just feeling the effects of the weed or something more.

rafe leaned back against the pillows, his arms still wrapped around her body. "we don’t have to watch the movie," he said, his voice almost too smooth, like he was testing the waters. his eyes didn’t leave hers, his gaze intent and heavy, and in that moment, the world outside her room seemed to disappear.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the tension between them grew. every inch of her body was acutely aware of him, the way his presence felt so overwhelming, so magnetic. she had always seen rafe as someone distant, someone who belonged to a world she could never quite fit into. but now, with the smoke being blown in her face, taken in by slightly parted lips, she felt like they were on the same level.

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just looked at him, her pulse racing as her mind swirled in the haze of the night.

"I wanna touch you."

rafe's breath fell heavy on her ear, sending a slight chill down her spine. her breath hitched, and there was that same flutter in her stomach. she didn't exactly have any experience in things like this but she wasn't entirely clueless, but never dealt with it hands on.

but rafe? he was a fucking sex symbol. several girls would literally leave notes in his locker with their address begging him to fuck them. but he would only rack up two bodies, or so it's said.

both of those girls transferred schools due to death threats.

but y/n doesn't understand why he would choose her.

"touch, me?" her voice was soft, but not afraid. infact, she was more relaxed than ever. "I wanna make you feel good, you're gonna be the fucking death of me. so innocent you don't even notice how you're straddling me, do you?" y/n took notice of how firmly planted on his thigh she was, no longer fully in his lap. "um, well.." rafe placed his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her back and forth. a jolt of pleasure shooting through her body, "rafey." a mewl creept from her lips, rafe was fucking aching in his sweats at this point. hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted slightly. "shit, you want me to stop? just give me the word i'll stop." he halts his movements, earning a disappointed whine.

"I don't want you to stop."

rafe curses under his breath, he slides her onto his lap and grinds his hips up into her, letting out a low groan. "you're a needy girl aren't you? so stressed and pent up. you can let go, I got you." rafe coo'd into her ear, placing soft kisses on her shoulders and moving to her neck, biting and sucking, hands rubbing all over her body, palming her boobs through her top, fingers brushing over her nipples.

rafe turns her head twords him, pressing their lips together. a mix of cherry lipgloss and orange fanta settling on his tongue. the kiss is sloppy and heated, the air in the room is thick as the movie in the background gets drowned out by moans and heavy breaths.

"such a sweet girl, you know that? all the shit you do for me? you deserve a fucking trophy." rafe showers her with praise has he goes back to kissing her neck, hands never leaving her body as she caught the rhythm on her own.

her brain was foggy with pleasure, lips parted but could't respond with anything but moans and "mhm's." rafe plays with the hem of her pajama pants, "can I?" she nods, "words, baby I need to hear you say it."

y/n, almost frustrated lets out a defeated sigh. "yes, but.." she hesitates. "can you take your shirt off?" she says quietly, as if she wasn't already in such a vulnerable state.

rafe chuckles at the sudden request, but does as she says. he pulls his black shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. y/n does the same. rafe is practically drooling at the sight of the pink lacy bra. his hands cup her breasts through the fabric, she arches her back against his chest. he slides his hand into her pants, glancing down to see that her underwear matched her bra. "so fucking cute."

he rubs her through the fabric, dampness seeping through the material. he teases her with long strides and rubs circles around her clit. he slips his hand into her underwear, almost moaning at the slick. y/n bites her swollen lip in an attempt to save her embarrassment.

"I want you to watch me."

her eyes slowly moved down to rafes hand in her pants, her face heated with embarrassment as she watched rafe's forearm and wrist flexed as he worked her clit, finger teasing her entrance. "I need you to relax, open your legs for me." rafe slowly parted her thighs with his free hand. "good fucking girl, so obedient." he kisses her cheek as he slides a digit into her sopping cunt. she inhales sharply, her head is thrown over his shoulder and her nails dig slightly into his arms.

"shit, just sucking me in. if I didn't know any better i'd think you were a slut." rafe's teasing manner never seemed to stop, he was two fingers, knuckle deep, in his supposed to be tutor. the only thing they were studying were eachothers body movements.

he found a steady pace working his fingers in and out of her, her moans becoming more high pitched, rafe could tell she was close. her hips bucked up into his hand, an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach.

"rafey— 'm gonna— fuck!"

rafe was in genuine disbelief, not only did he cum in his pants but this was the first time he had ever heard you swear, tonight was a lot of firsts. the girl that he had been crushing on for weeks was about to cum on his fingers, moaning his name. he was never letting her go after this.

almost like it was on cue, y/n's orgasm hit like a truck. her entire body was shaking and she swore she saw starts. on top of that, rafe was still working his fingers in and out of her riding out her orgasm. she swatted his hands away and he took his hand out of her pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. she falls off of his lap onto the cool comforter beside him, chest heaving. he lays beside her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"want me to go run a bath, sweetheart?" he kisses the nape of her neck and cages her in. "'n a minute, just stay here for a second."

"didn't plan on leaving." ౨ৎ

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe smut #smut #obx smut #obx rafe cameron #highschool au #jock #nerd #orange #lana del rey #fem reader #fluff #comfort #opposites attract

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virtual-bunny · 3 months ago

Text

“ HEY NERDY BOY ! ”

random headcannons about nerdjo because he turns me on

pairings: nerd! gojo x chubby fem! reader

WARNINGS: SMUT but not too detailed, some body image issues, probably some writing errors :3

a/n: i might come back every now and then if a new idea pops up in my head hehe

ARTIST CREDS: @/N06ARA ON TWITTER

✧ nerdjo who can almost cry over how beautiful he thinks you are

✧ nerdjo who stammers over his words when you wear shorts that squeeze your thighs just right

✧ nerdjo who clings onto your body and inhales your scent and gets a boner instantly as he grips your love handles

✧ nerdjo who slouches so you can give him a kiss, his glasses slidding down his nose bridge as your lips touch his cheeks, his cheek warm from him being flustered, and when you pull away, nerdjo’s eyes are almost crossed eyed as he sighs deeply

✧ nerdjo who uses your tummy as a stress ball when you sit next to him while he does his physics homework

✧ nerdjo who lays on your tummy as you play with his hair while he sleeps, saliva spilling from the side of his mouth

✧ nerdjo whose so head over heels for you that he begs you to let him carry your books and backpack so he can trail behind you to see the way your ass and thighs jiggle

✧ nerdjo who helps you with your homework and pinches your cheek, side or thighs whenever you get something wrong

✧ nerdjo who holds onto your stomach when you’re riding him, his face flushed and glasses crooked as he looks up at you with drunken eyes

✧ nerdjo who stumbles to catch up to you because he was too caught up watching you walk infront of him

✧ nerdjo who rolls his eyes when his jock friend geto teases him when he sees that gojo isn’t paying attention to lecture “she’s got you wrapped around her finger doesn’t she?” “wrapped around her thighs” nerdjo sighs without a second thought

✧ nerdjo who likes to put his hands around your tummy and gently squeeze it whenever you two are watching tv and you’re sitting between his legs

✧ nerdjo who fivershly pumps his cock at the thought of your round body jiggling when you ride him, or when you laugh, or when you walk

✧ nerdjo who makes snarky comments at you when you try to show him that “you’re way smarter than he is”

✧ nerdjo who reads out his physics notebook out loud just to make you mad because you hate physics

✧ nerdjo who goes all red whenever he brings you gifts on his way to your dorm

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t like going outside and rather stay home watching Teen Titans but still does because he knows you like to go out on dates

✧ nerdjo who used to bite his pencils out of habit but now bites your chubby hands if you’re sitting next to him as he does his homework or helps you with yours

✧ nerdjo who has to assure you he loves you and thinks you’re as beautiful as “The Euler-Lagrange Equation” (you have no idea what this means)

✧ nerdjo who puts his hands under your stomach, thighs and boobs to keep them warm

✧ nerdjo who bores you to death as he talk about quantum physics but you don’t say anything because you find it cute the way he sometimes spits by accident when he rambled and how his glasses slowly fall when’s he’s making movements as he talks

✧ nerdjo who likes to prove you wrong whenever you try to be a “smarty pants”

✧ nerdjo who softens when you go up to him while he was working on a project and tell him you’re worried about him because he looks like he hasn’t slept in three days

✧ nerdjo who mutters to himself in class when a stupid frat guy tries to answer the professors question, obviously saying the wrong answer but clearly only doing it to get laughs out of everyone. “what an idiot.” gojo grits to himself

✧ nerdjo who looks seriously shocked when he’s helping you with your homework and you get the wrong answer even though the right answer is CLEARLY right in front of your eyes “love… you seriously don’t know the answer…?”

✧ nerdjo who spends HOURS in the library to a room all by himself, books, papers, pens and pencils all scattered around the table while trying to get his work done, his hair messy and eyebrows furrowed, but when you text him saying you were gonna drop off food for him, his whole demeanor turns soft and giddy thinking about how he’s gonna be able to see you

✧ nerdjo who if he’s not doing homework or reading, is playing or watching digimon in your dorm, explaining everything he possibly can so you can catch up to the lore (you stopped listening a long time ago)

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t really talk much in class but when he does, the professors have to cut him off because gojo can talk for HOURS

✧ nerdjo who makes you sit on his lap as he codes on his computer

✧ nerdjo who can solve a rubix cube in a minute and always does when you ask him to (for your own entertainment)

✧ nerdjo whos into physics and computer science

✧ nerdjo who awkwardly puts his arm around your shoulder when the two of you are walking back to your dorm (he nearly trips)

✧ nerdjo who when you tell him a fun science fact, crosses his arms, leans back on the couch and goes “well ACTUALY-“ it’s too late to stop him, he’s already yapping to you on how the fact is wrong

✧ nerdjo who starts looking stupid now because you two have a class together when the new semester started and he can’t concentrate at all because he’s too concentrated looking at YOU

✧ nerdjo who tries to be freaky by putting his shaky hand on your upper thigh but you smack it away and he gives you a sad puppy look as he fixes his glasses, you swear you could see tears forming in his eyes

✧ nerdjo who runs to you when he finishes a prototype for whatever sciencey class he has and with full confidence says “you’re looking at the new science prodigy babe!” “uh huh” you say

✧ nerdjo who goes to the library again to study, he’s so stressed but he’s glad you came along, that’s until you went under the desk he was sitting at, undoing his belt and pulling down his pants and boxers JUST barely, hes literally gripping onto the table, face flushed hair messy crooked glasses and chest heaving trying so hard not to make it obvious you have his dick in your mouth

✧ nerdjo who makes you tag along with him to the nearest store to get the newest Digimon cards

✧ nerdjo who makes you gasp when you turn around for one second and look back to see him fighting a literal ten year old for a box set of Digimon cards

✧ nerdjo who doesn’t show you memes, but shows you reddit posts that you have no interest in looking at

✧ nerdjo who makes you sit on his face, but not to eat you out, but so your thighs can squish his face. he says that “it de-stresses him” and when you go to complain he says “it’s scientifically proven that it does”

✧ nerdjo who SOMETIMES is a cocky asshole in class, and when an acquaintance of yours who’s also in gojos’s class tells you how much of an asshole your boyfriend is, you straighten nerdjo up by riding his face nonstop to the point he’s crying because HE’S not getting any action

✧ nerdjo who you convince that overstimulating him will “de-stress him” and “make him focus better” so when you tied him up in your bed with a vibrator wrapped on the head of his cock, he’s whining, crying, squirming, eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head and pleading you to “let him do anything to you” (when you finally let him cum he tells you the next day that his focus is 97.56% better than it was the day before)

✧ nerdjo who’s so competitive when the two of you play video games he forgets you’re his GIRLFRIEND and is brutal with the insults when you loose

✧ nerdjo who’s actually really strong and likes to carry you around your dorm or outside when the two of you go for a walk. and even though you’re protesting and telling him you “don’t wanna hurt him” all nerdjo says is “just cause i’m smart doesn’t mean i’m not strong”

✧ nerdjo who likes to suck your clit while gripping your tummy

✧ nerdjo who likes to grip your fupa cause he’s weird like that

✧ nerdjo who ANALYZES your pussy and your actions whenever he’s fingering you or fucking you so he can make you feel better for the next time you two fuck (you always have a stronger orgasam each time after the other)

✧ nerdjo who bites his nails and gets told off by you (he immediately begs for your forgiveness)

✧ nerdjo who kisses your tummy whenever he lays down on your lap and turns his head so he’s looking up at you and says “you’re the most angelic thing i’ve ever seen, you know that?” he sighs contently while pushing his glasses up and giving you the stupidest toothy smile

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societyfolklore · 2 months ago

Text

Trapped Together

Title: Trapped Together

Pairing: Sheild!Bucky Barnes x Sheild!Female Reader

Summary: A mission doesn’t go as planed. The result? Bucky and you find yourselves handcuffed together without the key and no easy way out.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: / Explicit Content /18+, Minors DNI, Accidental Handcuffs, Forced Proximity, Smut, Fingering, Unprotected sex, Soft Dom Bucky, Mild Dubcon Elements (squint), Mentions of thigh riding, Porn with min plot.. but yeah.. No Beta

A/N: my entry for @avengers-assemble-bingo for Bucky 108th Bday event – Final square! Square: A2 – ‘I didn’t do a thing’ Card Number: 4B003 The mission was supposed to be simple- just a routine investigation of an old HYDRA base. No hostiles, no active threats, just a sweep for any lingering tech or classified intel. But, of course, things didn’t go to plan.

The air was thick with dust and the scent of rusted metal as you navigated the dimly lit corridors, your boots scuffing softly against the cracked concrete floor. The remains of outdated HYDRA technology sat abandoned, wires frayed, panels dark, the remnants of a long-dead organization still clutching at relevance. It should have been nothing more than a cleanup job- catalogue the junk, confirm there were no active threats, and get the hell out.

You were scanning a particularly decrepit-looking console, fingers grazing over a series of faded HYDRA insignias, when something clicked.

A sharp snap echoed through the room as a metal cuff clamped down around your wrist.

“Oh, shit,” you muttered, instinctively tugging at it.

“What happened?”

Bucky’s voice was immediate, sharp with concern. He was at your side in an instant, his vibranium hand gently gripped your forearm as he inspected the cuff. His brows furrowed as he studied the mechanism, and before you could warn him to be careful, his metal fingers drifted too close.

With a soft hiss, another cuff snapped into place- this time, locking around his vibranium wrist.

You both froze.

“Seriously?” you exhaled, staring at the unforgiving metal that now physically attached you to Bucky Barnes.

He let out a slow, deliberate breath through his nose. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Your heart hammered as you gave the restraint a sharp tug, testing it. The metal didn’t so much as shift. You turned, twisting your wrist, but Bucky moved with you- because there was no getting away.

Panic crept into your voice. “Okay, okay, we can just take these off, right?”

Bucky pulled at his side, first experimentally, then harder. The muscles in his jaw twitched as he yanked at it, but the cuff refused to budge. His frown deepened as he examined the lock.

“No keyhole.”

You blinked. “What do you mean ‘no keyhole’?”

“I mean,” he muttered, voice edged with irritation, “there’s no keyhole. No latch, no release.”

Your stomach did an uncomfortable flip. “So… what? We cut them off?”

Bucky flexed his vibranium fingers. “They’re HYDRA-made. If I try to break them, I could crush your wrist in the process.”

The realization settled between you, heavy and unshakable.

You inhaled sharply. “Fantastic.” Then, with far less patience: “We’re stuck.”

Bucky exhaled, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “Yup.”

And then the inevitable happened.

“This is your fault!” you snapped, yanking at the cuff in frustration, your wrist burning from the chafing metal.

Bucky had the audacity to smirk. “Doll, I didn’t do a thing.”

“You- ugh!” You yanked again, but it was pointless. You weren’t getting out of this without cutting off his damn arm, and even you weren’t cruel enough to suggest that he try to dismantle parts of it.

Being this close to him was already annoying on the best of days. His constant 'follow my lead' attitude, the way he always seemed so sure of himself- it drove you insane. And now? Now you were literally stuck to him. Your pulse kicked up for reasons you refused to acknowledge, and you scowled, masking the unease with irritation.

You huffed, turning your attention back to the restraint. “We need to find a way to break these.”

Bucky tilted his head, looking far too entertained. “Oh, I dunno. Could be fun like this.”

Your glare could have cut through steel. “We are not staying cuffed together, Barnes.”

Bucky shrugged, tugging lightly at the cuffs again. “I’m sure Stark will get us out of these once we get home.”

You grumbled under your breath. “Great. Our extraction isn’t scheduled until tomorrow.”

Bucky let out a dry chuckle. "Guess that means we're getting real cozy till then, huh?" He glanced down at where your wrists were bound together and smirked. "Hope you don’t snore, Doll."

Despite your efforts there was no solution. The cuffs were far beyond ordinary restraints. No brute force, no backdoor override, no simple trick was going to free you. And with Bucky’s metal arm restrained, even he wasn’t willing to risk hurting you to break them.

Which meant you had no choice but to wait for Tony to take a look.

And that? That was going to be a problem.

By the time night fell, exhaustion was settling in. You both managed to find a somewhat decent place to rest- an old, creaking bed in a safehouse nearby. The mattress was thin, the sheets smelled vaguely of dust and damp, but it was better than nothing. But sleeping while attached to Bucky Barnes was proving to be a nightmare.

“Stop moving,” you grumbled, trying to get comfortable without your arm getting yanked.

Bucky exhaled through his nose. “Kinda hard when you’re sprawled all over me, Doll.”

Your cheeks burned. “I’m not- ”

But you were.

There was no way around it- his arm was wrapped around you, keeping you pressed against his side. Every shift, every twitch of his muscles, sent a jolt of awareness through you. The heat of his body, the solid weight of him, the sheer size of him against you…

You tried to shift away, but the cuffs made it impossible. Every tiny movement just pressed you closer, your body molding against his like a puzzle piece that fit all too well. You could feel the way his chest rose and fell, steady, unbothered- while your own breath was coming far too fast for comfort.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered, twisting slightly, only to freeze as Bucky's grip instinctively tightened around you.

“Doll,” his voice was low, rough with sleep, “if you keep wiggling like that, neither of us are getting any rest.”

Heat flared in your cheeks. “I’m not- ” But you were, again, shifting just enough to feel the tension coiled in his muscles, the slow flex of his vibranium fingers resting against your waist.

You swallowed hard, willing your body to ignore the way he felt against you. But it was impossible- the warmth, the solid weight, the steady, controlled power that had you feeling far too aware of every single breath he took. You could smell him, the faint traces of sweat and gunpowder mixed with something unmistakably Bucky.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “Just go to sleep.”

Silence stretched between you before Bucky let out a slow chuckle, the vibrations rolling through his chest, through you.

“Whatever you say, Doll.”

And somehow, despite everything, you did.

You blinked awake, mind still foggy. The sky outside the safehouse window had shifted to muted shades of gray, the first signs of dawn creeping in through the thin curtains. The air was thick with early morning stillness, broken only by the soft creaks of the old bed beneath you. As you stirred, trying to shift into a more comfortable position, something stopped you.

Something warm. Solid. Heavy. The unmistakable weight of an arm draped over you, pinning you in place. Not just any arm- his arm. The hard, unyielding pressure of metal wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him even as he slept. The sensation was grounding and suffocating all at once, leaving you hyper-aware of every shift, every breath, every slow, unconscious squeeze of his vibranium fingers against your bare skin.

But it wasn’t just his arm. Sometime during the night, you had gotten tangled together, his leg slipped between yours, pressing up against your crotch in a way that made your breath stop. The pressure, subtle yet insistent, had you far too aware of how sensitive you felt, of the heat pooling low in your belly. The way your body responded, the way the tension in the air had shifted from mere discomfort to something else entirely.

You tried to move his hold was unyielding so you shifted back.

Only this time your butt was pressed firmly against something unmistakable.

Bucky was hard.

Heat rushed up your spine, your senses suddenly painfully aware of everything- the solid warmth of his chest flush against your back, the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing, and the way his hips had begun rocking against you, even in sleep.

You swallowed hard, torn between panic and something far more dangerous as another slow, instinctive roll of his hips sent a spark of heat straight to your core. You should move- you should wake him up- but then a quiet, needy sound slipped from his lips, muffled where his face had buried against the back of your neck.

His vibranium hand flexed, the cooler metal splaying over your stomach. Skin to metal. Your shirt had ridden up during the night, leaving you bare beneath his touch, and when his thumb brushed the soft skin just beneath your ribs, your entire body tensed. A shiver rolled through you, unbidden, and that’s when you felt it-

Your own arousal.

The ache that pulsed in time with the steady press of his body against yours. The sharp awareness of how easily, how seamlessly, your bodies fit together, the tension stretched so tight between you it felt like a live wire.

You needed to wake him up.

But trapped as you were, there was no room to press your thighs together- only to shift, just barely, along the firm muscle of his leg between yours. The motion sent a ripple of sensation through you, what had you done in the night that had gotten you as wet you were becoming. Shifting your hips again trying to do something to make it better- Bucky growled.

His nose brushed against the back of your neck, breath hot, lips so close to your skin. His hips pressed against you again, slower, deliberate, sending a shockwave through your already tense body. His grip on your stomach tightened, just enough for you to feel it, to need more.

Then came the sharp, teasing graze of teeth against your nape.

His voice was hoarse, rough with sleep and something else entirely when he muttered, “Stop moving, Doll. You’re making it worse.”

His breath fanned against your skin, sending another shudder through you, and suddenly you weren’t sure who was torturing who.

You stiffened, before trying to move away.

"I just- "

"Said stop moving." His grip tightened, pulling you back against him, his leg pushing up harder, and you swallowed the moan that nearly slipped past your lips.

"Been teasing me all damn night in your sleep."

"I didn’t do a thing.”

"Really?" His breath was hot against your ear, voice rough and edged with something dangerous. "'Cause I can smell it, you know..."

Your stomach flipped. "What?"

Bucky's fingers flexed against your bare skin, his tone dark with amusement. "You. Been leaving little wet patches on my leg with all your grinding…"

His words sent another wave of heat through you, your breath hitching as your body betrayed you yet again. Bucky hummed, his lips grazing your neck as his grip on your waist tightened. "Drove me crazy, y'know. All those little sleepy moans while you were riding my leg. Thought I was imagining it at first, but nah- " his teeth nipped at the delicate skin just below your ear, making you jolt, "- you were using me, weren’t you?"

"I wasn’t- "

"You're always such a brat in the field, you a brat in the bed, too, Doll?" His voice was smug, teasing, completely in control now. Your fingers clenched around the cuffed hand as he slowly dragged it down your stomach, his movements deliberate, testing. You tensed, instinctively trying to pull his hand back up, but the metal was unyielding. His fingers merely flexed beneath yours, a silent warning that he could take control if he wanted to.

"Don't get all shy on me now, sweetheart…" Bucky murmured, his lips tracing a slow, heated path down the side of your throat. "Not after all the trouble you've already caused."

Bucky's hand cupped you through your pants, his palm pressing against the damp fabric, making you gasp. A dark chuckle rumbled against your neck as he felt the heat radiating through the thin material.

"Undo your pants," he murmured, the command cutting through the thick haze of tension.

You found yourself shifting, your own shaking fingers undoing the button and pulling down the zipper, Bucky’s hand sliding in without hesitation. The sensation made you arch, your body betraying you as his fingers made contact. A little whimper slipped from your lips before you could stop it.

"All that grinding made you all ache and sensitive, Babydoll…" His metal finger barely pressed your underwear against your swollen clit, the faintest amount of pressure making your breath stutter.

Bucky hummed in satisfaction, his fingers starting a slow, teasing circle over the fabric still covering you. "Bet you've been dripping for me all night," he murmured, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. "So wet and needy, and you don’t even wanna admit it."

His hand slid further, fingers pushing past the final barrier of fabric to find you bare beneath, slick and ready. He groaned at the feel of you, his grip tightening as his fingers slipped through your wetness, coating themselves in evidence of your arousal. "Fuck, sweetheart… you're soaking."

A strangled sound caught in your throat as his fingers circled your clit, the cool contrast of metal making you shudder. You tried to resist the pleasure flooding through you, but Bucky was relentless, keeping you spread open with his thigh between yours.

"Bucky- "

"Shh, sweetheart. Just let me feel you," he whispered, voice thick with desire. His hand moved with intent now, slow and devastating strokes that had you trembling against him. "That’s it, good girl… just like that."

His fingers slid lower, teasing along your folds, gathering the slickness that betrayed just how much you wanted this. A wicked smirk ghosted across his lips as he pressed against your entrance, just barely dipping in before pulling back, his touch agonizingly light.

"So sensitive," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "So fuckin’ wet for me."

You let out a strangled moan as his metal finger circled your clit again, more pressure this time, more purpose. Heat coiled low in your stomach, each slow stroke sending sparks of pleasure racing through your veins. Your hips moved before you could stop them, chasing the friction he so cruelly teased you with.

"That’s it, sweetheart," Bucky coaxed, voice laced with dark amusement. "Knew you wanted this. Knew you couldn’t resist."

You barely had time to bite back another moan before he flipped you onto your stomach, his grip firm as he pressed your cuffed hand down against the mattress. His free hand slid to your hip, tugging your pants lower, the cool air ghosting over your bare skin making you shiver.

The bed creaked as he moved behind you, the unmistakable sound of his belt being undone making your breath hitch. The rasp of his zipper sent anticipation curling through your spine, the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His own pants coming down, the clank of his metal belt

"Been waiting for this all night," Bucky murmured, his hand smoothing over the curve of your ass before squeezing. You felt your hips raise back to meet his hand, instinctively seeking friction, rubbing against the heavy, hard length pressed against you.

He groaned at the contact, his breath coming out harsher as he gripped your waist, his flesh hand against your skin. "That’s it, sweetheart," he muttered, grinding his cock against you slow and deliberate. "You want it, don’t you?"

You barely had time to answer before his free hand slid between your thighs, fingers teasing along your already slick folds. "So fuckin' wet for me," he groaned, his touch purposeful as he spread your arousal with slow, torturous strokes. "Bet you were dreamin' about this, weren't you? Ridin' my leg, gettin' yourself all worked up..."

Your breath stuttered, a whimper slipping from your lips as he pushed a finger inside you properly, curling it just right, making your body jolt. The pleasure was overwhelming, too much and not enough all at once.

"Bucky- " you gasped, barely able to form the words as he worked you open, his touch both devastating and precise.

"Yeah?" His voice was low, teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed another finger in, stretching you further, our cunt clenching and holding onto his fingers. "That feel good, sweetheart? You gonna admit how bad you wanted this?"

Your fingers curled into the sheets, a desperate moan slipping from your lips as he thrust his fingers deeper, stroking the spot that had you trembling.

"Fuck- Bucky, I- " you tried, but your words cut off into a whimper when his thumb circled your clit, sending another wave of pleasure through you.

"That’s it," he murmured, voice thick with satisfaction. "Let me hear you."

Bucky chuckled, dark and pleased, withdrawing his hand only to replace it with the heavy press of his cock against your entrance. "Gonna take my time with you, Doll," he murmured, voice thick with hunger. "Gonna stretch you open nice and slow... make sure you feel every inch."

And then, with a deep, steady push, he sank into you, stretching you inch by inch, until there was nothing left between you but heat, pressure, and the raw, unrelenting pleasure of being completely, utterly filled.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groaned, the weight of him making it impossible to properly move. Your walls fluttering around him as you let out a soft whine.

Bucky’s fingers tightened against your hips, his breath ragged against the back of your neck. “That’s it, not so sassy now, are ya baby?” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. His thrusts deepened, each roll of his hips sending pleasure spiking through you. “Just needed my fat cock to make you behave.”

A choked moan escaped your lips, your body arching instinctively, pushing back against him. The stretch, the pressure- it was too much and not enough, and you couldn’t stop the desperate sounds spilling from your throat.

Bucky chuckled darkly. “Fuck, listen to you,” he groaned, his pace picking up, the slap of skin against skin echoing in the room. “Moanin’ like a needy little thing. Thought you hated being stuck with me?”

You couldn’t even answer, couldn’t form words between gasps and whimpers.

“C’mon, sweetheart, use your words,” he taunted, his flesh hand slipping beneath you, fingers finding your clit. “Tell me how good I feel stretching you out.”

Your breath hitched, your back arching as pleasure ripped through you. “Bucky- I- fuck- ”

He groaned, thrusting harder, deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars. “That’s it, take it, baby,” he rasped. “You’re so fuckin’ tight- so fuckin’ perfect wrapped around me.”

Your body clenched, heat coiling in your belly, the pleasure unbearable as his fingers worked you mercilessly, pushing you closer to the edge.

““Gonna come for me?” Bucky growled, his grip on your waist tightening. “Gonna soak my cock like a good girl?”

Your breath hitched, your body tightening around him, the pressure building unbearably fast. His fingers on your clit never relented, pushing you closer and closer, his thrusts turning sharper, rougher, until it was too much-

The pleasure crashed over you in a blinding wave, your cry muffled into the pillow as your body convulsed beneath him. You clenched around him, squeezing him so tight he let out a strangled moan, his grip on your waist turning bruising.

“Fuck- just like that,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering, his body seizing as he drove into you one last time before he buried himself deep, spilling into you with a deep, shuddering groan. The heat of it sent aftershocks rippling through you, your body still pulsing with the remnants of your orgasm as he slumped over you, both of you panting, sweat-slicked, and utterly spent.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of your ragged breathing, the weight of him pressing you into the mattress. His breath fanned over the back of your neck, warm and uneven, his heart hammering against your spine. Neither of you spoke, your bodies still tangled, still connected, the cuffs a firm reminder that there was no pulling away just yet.

Bucky chuckled breathlessly, his lips ghosting over your shoulder as he murmured, “Guess being stuck together ain’t so bad after all, huh?”

His words sent a lazy shiver through you, but you were too boneless, too utterly wrecked to argue. Instead, you let your eyes drift shut, exhaling slowly, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back.

Yeah, you were definitely in trouble.

By the time backup arrived, you were fully dressed again, but nothing about the tension had faded. If anything, it had settled deeper. The flight home was quiet, and you were quiet too.

Bucky hadn’t let go of you the entire time. His fingers brushed your thigh every so often, casual, like it was nothing. Normally, you would have said something- told him to quit it, nudged him away- but right now, your brain was too hazy, too fluffy to form a real thought. The ache between your legs made every small movement an unspoken reminder of where he'd been, of what he'd done.

You kept your eyes on the window, forcing yourself to breathe, to act normal. But in the reflection, you saw it-

Bucky watching you.

That same small, satisfied smile on his face.

As the jet touched down, Bucky finally pulled at the cuffed connection, his vibranium arm giving a gentle but insistent tug. Your gaze snapped up, attention pulled from the window as your fingers instinctively curled into your lap.

"On your feet, Doll. Don't wanna keep Stark waiting."

"Yes, Sir." The words left your lips before you could even think about them, your breath hitching the moment you realized what you’d said.

Sir? When had that slipped into your vocabulary?

Bucky’s smirk deepened, though he didn’t comment, just gave a slow hum of amusement as he stood, the cuffed hand ensuring you followed right after. Blinking, heat creeping into your cheeks, you cleared your throat and got to your feet, falling into step slightly behind him as you made your way toward Stark’s lab.

Tony raised an eyebrow at the sight of you and Bucky, still cuffed together. "What the hell happened here?"

"Long story," Bucky muttered, avoiding your gaze, though his grip on the cuffed hand lingered a second too long before finally letting go.

Once the cuffs were finally removed, you should have felt relief. Should have been grateful to be free. But instead… you hesitated.

Bucky hesitated, too.

You both lingered, standing too close, the air between you charged with something unspoken. His fingers flexed at his side like he was fighting the urge to touch you again, his jaw tightening as his gaze flickered over you, lingering on the places he'd marked just hours ago. And for one, sharp moment, you thought he might- might say something, might pull you back in, might remind you exactly how good you felt under him.

But then, he just smirked. Slow, knowing, dangerous.

"Don’t think this means you’re off the hook, Doll."

Your breath caught. "I’m not?"

Bucky leaned in, his voice dipping into something husky. "Not even close."

His eyes held yours, heavy with meaning, and your stomach flipped, heat flooding your face and running down your chest. You swallowed hard, your pulse hammering as he finally stepped back-

But instead of leaving, he gave your cuffed hand a light tug, guiding you toward the hallway. "C'mon, sweetheart," he murmured, his smirk deepening. "Think it's time I take you somewhere a little more comfortable."

Your breath hitched, your body still too warm, too sensitive from everything that had happened. "Bucky- "

He shot you a look over his shoulder, teasing but firm. "Unless you wanna sleep alone tonight?"

A nervous giggle bubbled up before you could stop it, and you cleared your throat, shaking your head as he led you toward his bedroom.

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superhoeva · 25 days ago

Text

“you’re in my spot.”

robby only grins from his kneel in front of your chair, tongue slathering your clit in a wet glob of slobber. you curse, leg hanging helplessly in the air and gripping the sides of your chair for dear life. you can’t even find the manners to greet the grey-haired man as he slinks his backpack off his shoulder, the suckle of robby’s lips making it too hard to think.

“not my fault you took the long way here,” words muffled by he shrugs, hand creeping up to tug at one of your nipples.

“he bein’ nice to you?”

your head shakes lazily, face frowning into a pout that has jack smirking in his hang over you.

“n—fuck, no,” you whine, back arching with a squirm when robby purposefully drags his tongue up your slit a little harder at your answer. “no, he won’t let me come—“

“i don’t know what she’s talking about,” robby flicks his eyes to abbot then back to you before giving your swollen bud a soft suck. “you can come any time you wanna, sweetheart.”

you groan in half-bliss, half-annoyance, your lash line shining with frustrated tears as you turn to jack.

“he keeps stopping. right when i’m about to—ugh. fuck, see?” your whine to jack is covered up by robby, who’s pulling away from you with a giggle.

your head tosses back with gritted teeth, robby and abbot sharing a little look. the former just shrugs while you’re not looking, lips shining as they bend into a smirk. jack shakes his head, trying not to laugh before guiding you to raise your head. his lips dance down your jaw, fingers finding home in flicking one of your hardened nipples.

“so he’s not being very nice, huh?” the question at your ear is low but still heard by you and robby. as you shake your head, a shiver runs corses you.

jack’s hand sinks lower, dragging across your stomach, stopping to press tenderly just above your mound before thumbing at you’re clit.

fuck, robby must’ve done a number on you, ‘cause you’re soaked. jack’s fingers barely have to brush you for them to be covered in your slippery slick. he raises them to his mouth to lick it all off, circling them right back around your clit as you moan a loud curse.

“let’s see if this helps, yeah?” jack speaks lowly next to you, a silent conversation with robby happening easily. the man still on his knees in front of you takes the hint, kissing your thigh and sinking his tongue back inside you. “maybe this’ll make it a little easier, baby.”

the men work in perfect tandem. robby flicking and gliding his tongue deep into your hole just beneath your clit, nose bumping the tips of jack’s fingers every now and then.

eating you hungrily, robby groans, eyes rolling a little when he peeks up to find you sucking on jack’s tongue with a quiet mewl every time he pushes it into your mouth. reaching down to palm his throbbing cock, robby licks you faster. following the pattern abbot’s rubbing against you with a perfect precision.

the three of you are a mess of moans, a few growls even rattling from abbot when your teeth nibble at his lip.

“help me get her there, mike,” jack pants against your lips, bicep bulging as he works you. robby obliges, eyes closing and letting the sounds oozing from you take over his mind. you’re buzzing, thighs shaking and hawing for any kind of air.

“i’m coming,” you rush out and the men groan. “fuck, i’m coming.”

that you do, robby having to hold you steady as you body nearly trembles itself out of the chair, jack also letting you lean you weight against him while you sob into his mouth.

“that’s a girl,” robby mumbles, hot pants rolling across you. he dips his tongue into again, yanking it upwards to dance along side abbot’s fingers as they both help you through it. “that’s it, baby, keep soakin’ me.”

it takes a long few minutes for you to calm. jack’s touch has slowed and and robby’s tongue has lightened, but their touches still ride you high.

“see,” jack declares, pecking your cheek. “just needed a little teamwork, that’s all.”

robby chuckles, hands rubbing along your tired legs. jack studies him, eyes squinted.

“don’t forget to ice your knees, you grandpa,” he tells the man quietly, and even in your post-orgasm haze, it’s pretty funny. robby rolls his eyes with a smile, trying not to wince at the pain shooting through them already.

“fuck off, john,” robby gripes, straightening to pull the other man into a wet peck. it lingers for a long moment before robby pulls back with a grimace. “and, yeah, go grab the ice. please.”

#dr abbot smut #dr robby smut #jack abbot smut #jack abbott smut #michael robinavitch smut #dr jack abbot x reader #michael robinavitch x reader #jack abbot x you #dr robby x you #jack abbot x reader #dr robby x reader #jack abbot imagine #dr robby imagine #jack abbot #dr jack abbott #michael robinavitch #the pitt x reader #the pitt hbo

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shuafiles · 5 months ago

Note

hai! could i request a mark idol! smut :( im just imagining him coming home all tired but reader is all worked up bcs of mark’s photoshoot (THE BOUCHERON ONE😍) n willing to release all his stress

MDNI, 18+

CONTENT | established relationship, pwp, dirty talk, use of the word slut, oral (m receiving), dick riding, unprotected sex (do not do this)

“baby?” mark’s voice echoed throughout the apartment, announcing his presence. he settled his keys down on the counter before heading straight to your bedroom, where he assumed you were. “i’m so tired. today was—” his voice faltered when he saw you laying in bed, with your hand between your legs.

“mark!” you exclaimed, pulling your hand away and covering yourself up with the duvet.

mark smirked, leaning against the doorframe as he caught you red-handed. “having fun without me?” he crossed his arms against his chest.

you felt your cheeks warm up under his gaze, feeling shy that you got caught. “can’t help it.”

“hm?” he hummed, approaching you. his fingers hovering over the duvet before pulling it off of you, exposing your bare bottom half. “all for me?” his eyes shamelessly roamed your body, licking his lips in the process. your glistening core all just for him.

“you know it is.” you groaned. mark’s marie claire korea x boucheron photoshoot was released today, and you couldn’t help but admire your boyfriend. and by admire, you mean you couldn’t control yourself from being horny. he looked so fucking hot.

mark signaled you with his fingers, prompting you to move close to him. you sat up, moving to meet his body at the edge of the bed. you wrapped your legs around his thighs, hands reaching for the buttons of his shirt. he watched you with dark eyes, lifting his hand to caress your cheek.

mark leaned down, connecting his lips to yours. the kiss started soft and lovingly until you tugged him by his shirt. needing more of him, you slipped your tongue in his mouth, feeling him smile against the kiss. his hand dropped to the back of your neck, angling your head so he could kiss you even deeper. you moaned against his lips, his teeth grazing your lip as he lightly nibbled on it.

his touch immediately turns you on. you struggled to undo his buttons. mark pulled away, letting out a chuckle when your expression twisted into annoyance from the number of buttons he had.

“missed you so much today.” mark mumbled, his hand slipping down to the strap of your skimpy top that you purposely wore for him. his fingers toyed with the thin material before letting it slip down your shoulder, giving him a perfect view of your tits from above. “my pretty girl.”

you finally managed to undo all his buttons, pulling his polo apart and exposing his chest. he shrugged the fabric off, letting it fall to the ground. you bit your lip at the sight. god, he’s so perfect. you traced his chest down to his abdomen before your fingers halted at his jeans.

mark stared intently at you as if you were the only woman in the world. you quickly undid his pants, sliding them down his torso, along with his boxers. his rock-hard cock springing up his stomach, head twitching at the sight of you.

“let me help you, please.” you whimpered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

in a swift motion, mark sat on the edge of the bed while you kneeled in front of him. his cock directly in your face. your heart pounded, feeling your arousal dripping down your thighs. you couldn’t wait to have him.

“go on, princess.” mark mumbled, leaning back with his arms prompting him. “take my cock like the good girl you are.”

that was all the motivation you needed. you wrapped your fingers around his length, stroking him while your thumb ran over the slit of his cock, smearing his pre-cum. you darted your tongue out, lightly licking the tip of his cock before taking him in your mouth.

mark let out groans, sitting up. he wrapped his fingers around your hair, making a makeshift ponytail. you swirled your tongue around, making sure to pay attention to the underside of his cock. his thighs trembled when your other hand reached up and cupped his balls, fondling them.

“fuck, baby.” he mumbled, watching as his cock perfectly sunk in your mouth. “so pretty like this. you like having my cock stuffed in your mouth, huh?”

you hummed, bobbing your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks in the process. his hands curled into fists as you licked his slit.

you pulled away from him, making him look down on you with confused eyes. but he immediately threw his head back when your lips connected to his balls, sucking on it before taking it in your mouth. your fingers wrapped around his length, paying equal attention to it, stroking it just the way he likes it.

“shit—fuck!” mark chanted, hips jerking from the amount of pleasure you were giving him. “s-stop, baby, get up here.” he said, lightly tugging your hair, making you release him from your mouth. “need to cum inside your pretty pussy.” his words sent a shock to your core as if you weren’t already wet enough.

you climbed on his lap, making him lean back against the mattress. he quickly lifted your shirt off of you, your tits on full display for him. his arms around his head as he watched you mount him.

“so handsome.” you whispered, admiring his face. sweat trickled down his forehead, and his hair was a mess, but you didn’t care; he still looked so good. “been wanting you all day.”

mark smirked, “yeah? show me how much you want me.” you lifted your hips, grasping his length. you aligned his cock with your entrance, sliding the head along your folds, collecting your wetness. his hands flew to your waist, gripping the skin. “stop teasing.”

you giggled before sinking down on him. “oh my god.” you gasped, face scrunching from the sensation. you had sex with mark a bunch of times, but every time, it felt like it was your first time. he was so big.

you whimpered once his cock was fully buried inside you. groans left mark’s mouth as you slowly lift your hips before sinking down again, trying to get accustomed to his size.

“move for me, baby?” mark mumbled, slowly guiding your hips to bounce on his cock. you placed your plans against his chest, supporting yourself, before moving your hips. a moan left your lips every time you sunk down. “fuck—you’re so wet. what got you this wet?” he teased, and you glared at him, making him laugh as if he didn’t know what got you so worked up.

“all you, markie.” you let out. his cock was stretching you out in the best way possible, your back arching from each bounce.

mark hands flew to your breast, kneading it while his fingers grazed your nipples. you leaned down, wanting to feel him close to you. he took this as a sign to take one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking on the sensitive bud while his other hand continued to play with the other. you whined, rolling your hips, feeling every inch of his cock. he pulled his mouth away but only to pay attention to the other nipple.

“oh god.” you cried out, holding onto his shoulder before sitting up, making him release your nipple with a string of saliva forming.

“keep going, baby.” mark’s grip on your hips tightened, continuing to move your hips in a steady rhythm. your thighs began to burn from exhaustion, but you kept going. his nails digging into your skin as you continued to ride him. “shit—you’re amazing.”

mark could sense you were getting tired so he held onto your hips, prompting you to stop. you paused, instead, he began to lift his hips to meet yours. you gasped at the immense pleasure. he picked up his pace, his cock hitting the perfect spots to drive you inside.

you clenched around him, feeling your release form at the pit of your stomach. “mark,” you moaned, “so close.” tears welled in your eyes. you needed more.

you sat down again, grinding your hips against him, gradually increasing speed. you couldn’t contain the noises that slipped past your lips—relentlessly rutting your hips against his, your thighs doing all the work.

mark sat up, kissing you sloppily as you continued to grind on him. “that’s it, baby. fucking use my cock like the slut you are.”

you cursed out his name. your orgasm washing over you when he reached in between your bodies to toy with your clit. his fingers drawing circles on it, enough to push you over the edge. your thighs trembling as you rode out your high. you felt his cock twitch inside you, and you tried to lift yourself off of him, but his arms kept you in place.

“no, no.” he mumbled, “keep going.”

“but—“

“no buts, come on, baby. i’m so close.” he kissed your forehead. “you said you’ve been wanting me all day, or were you just pretending?”

with his encouragement, you supported yourself by holding onto his shoulders. you tried to bounce on his cock, but your legs grew tired.

mark tsked before flipping your bodies so that you were lying on the mattress. he moved his hips, thrusting his cock in and out of you, making you gasp. your wetness coating his cock as he increased his speed. your mind went hazy from overstimulation, gripping the sheets beneath you.

“so,” he thrusted in, “fucking,” he pulled out, “wet.” he slammed his cock inside you. you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist to feel him deeper.

“mark, please.” you pleaded, back arching. his hands fell to your waist to steady you as he buried his cock inside you.

“almost there, baby.” he muttered, dark eyes watching you writhe beneath him. he absolutely loved it. his pretty girl, all weak because of him. “fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

your eyes roll back, feeling his cock throb inside you. your second orgasm forming as his thumb circled your clit. “so good.” you moaned. “don’t stop!”

“i’m—fuck—cumming.” mark grunted. with a few more thrusts, his warm cum released inside you. it didn’t take long before your orgasm washed over you. your entire body trembling from the pleasure.

mark pulled his cock out, your cum mixed with his spilling out of you, making him smirk at the sight. he leaned down, kissing you softly.

“i should accept more photoshoots if it gets you this worked up.”

#💌 — reqs #mark lee #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #mark lee imagines #nct imagines #mark lee smut #nct smut #mark lee drabbles #nct drabbles #mark lee x reader #nct x reader #mark lee reactions #nct reactions

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softspokendove · 6 months ago

Text

Sit on my lap

parings: innocent!reader x rafe cameron

summary: you’ve always had a thing for Rafes thighs, but you can’t control it anymore.

warnings: smut, thigh riding, hickeys, reader is super horny, pet names (baby, honey, sweetheart, pretty girl), and a lot of wetness.

a/n: this is my first time writing anything like this so hopefully you enjoy!

“Hey baby.” You feel Rafes arms wrap around your waist and pull you towards him, the rest of his body spread out and sitting down on your white couch. “I’ve missed you.” He mumbles his words into your tummy as he presses his face into your shirt, inhaling your smell.

You’ve been out all day running your errands, which Rafe had practically begged you to allow him to come. you just responded with it being a girls day and you wanted some time alone with your girls. He reluctantly agreed and has been waiting alone at your house all day. To say he was excited when he heard your key turning in the keyhole was an understatement. He felt like a dog.

You run your fingers through his hair feeling him sigh against you, “I’ve missed you too. I got a new dress.” He lifts his head slightly so his blue eyes can meet yours. A small smile appears on his face, “really? let me see it baby, go try it on.”

You happily agree and run into the bathroom to step out of your shirt and shorts, into the newly bought clothing. You look into the mirror at the white dress with colorful designs splattered onto it. The dress ends right before your mid thigh and has an open back. The straps being very thin.

You walk back into your living room and see Rafe comfortably leaning back into the couch with his legs spread apart, causing your eyes to stare at his thighs for a little too long. His face lights up at the scene of you in a pretty dress all for his view.

“You look so pretty.” He gestures with his finger to do twirl, you listen and move swiftly around in a circle giving him everything to see. When you stand still again straight in front of him his eyes wander everywhere before they land back on your face.

“My pretty girl, come here.” He pats his right thigh and opens his arms, welcoming you onto his body. You put one leg on either side of his, now straddling his thigh. He rests his right hand on your hip to keep you steady and his left hand comes up to your face, caressing your cheek.

“Do you like it?” You could tell from his face as soon as you walked in the room that he loved it, but there’s nothing you love more than hearing your boyfriend approve of you and praise you.

“It’s beautiful, you have good taste.” His hand drops from your face and fiddles with the material of the dress. Moving his pointing finger and thumb in a circle motion around it.

Your gaze drops down again and onto his thighs that are strained against the confinements of his jeans. There’s always been something with you and your boyfriend’s thighs. Your tummy would get twisted every time Rafe would ask you to sit on his lap. Whenever he wore shorts you couldn’t help but stare, especially when he’d sit down and they would expand. You’ve never told him about the attraction, too embarrassed of it.

You move to adjust your spot on his lap to get more comfortable, but feel your panties cling to your cunt. Your folds and panties already being covered in your slick. You feel your face get hot at the thought of Rafe finding out about your little secret, but he picks up on your behavior.

“hey sweetheart, look at me.”

You hear him and you do want to listen, but your eyes can’t pull away from his thigh being trapped between yours. You know that if you look him in the eye he’ll know something’s up. He knows you too well.

You feel his hand cup your chin and tilt your face up himself. You look away for a moment but give in to the need to look at him. His eyes are already piercing into yours. He sees the state that you’re in. Your rosy cheeks, dilated eyes, lips open a gap as your breathing is uneven.

“Rafe.”

The need in your stomach starting to become too much to handle, you rock yourself slightly upward and let out a sigh at the friction. Rafe moves the bottom of your dress away from where your pussy meets his thigh, getting a perfect view of your drenched pink underwear.

“Fuck baby you’ve ruined your underwear.” His voice is now a tone deeper and that mixed with his words make you let out a small moan. “Here let’s get you out of these.” Rafe hooks his fingers into the waistband of your undies and starts to pull them down, you lift your body off of his to help.

“There we go.” He tosses the pink clothing to the floor and try’s to place you higher up near his waist but you whine and push against his strength, moving back to his right thigh when he loosens up. The feeling of his jeans touching your bare cunt gives you a rush of euphoria. Rafe gives you a confused look until you start subtly rocking back and forth on his thigh. Trying to keep it as unnoticeable as possible but having no luck when Rafe starts to feel the dampness moving on his leg.

A smirk then plays on his face, “do you like rubbing yourself on my thigh?” A whine escapes your throat at his dirty words.

“Please.” You didn’t know what exactly you were begging for, all you know is that you need him. You need to feel his thigh harder against your pussy. You need to cum.

“Please what baby? What do you want?”

You huff out, “you. I need you, Rafe. Please.”

You feel his hand that’s on your waist move down to your hip and tighten, he then starts helping you move yourself back and forth. You moan at the new feeling. Your clit being rubbed back and forth by the material of his pants. “Hold your dress up for me sweetheart, I wanna see the mess you’re making.” You oblige and hold up the bottom of your dress, giving your boyfriend the show that he wanted.

Rafe wets his lips at the sight of your pussy leaving a dark stain on his pants, starting to feel it go through the jeans and onto his skin. He brings up his other hand to the other side of your hip and pushes you further down onto his thigh. This causes you to squeal and put a hand on his bicep to stabilize you, the other hand still holding up your dress.

“God you look so good.” He increases the speed, dragging you from the top of his thigh to the bottom then back to the top. You feel your eyes roll back into your head as your moans become more and more desperate. You crane your neck back towards the ceiling and Rafe takes this to his advantage and brings his lips to your neck. He gives you a few light kisses before applying more pressure and then sucking slightly before moving on to the next spot.

He goes further down to the neck of your dress, pulling down the material with his teeth, still keeping you moving on his thigh. Your tits fall freely and he takes one nipples into his mouth, sucking and swirly his tongue around. You moan in response to the abuse he applies to one nipple and then moves to the next doing the same thing. “R-Rafe, ‘feels so good.”

He moans against your boob as a reply before moving back up and marking your neck. When he feels you have enough hickeys he sits back in his spot and feels his dick pulse rapidly by seeing the look of bliss on your face. Your eyes are dark, cheeks even more red than earlier, and you’re biting your lip trying to reduce how loud you are. “Baby what did I say about doing that?” He pulls your lip down and out of your reach to bite down on it, “I want to hear all the noises you make. Tell me how good I’m making you feel.”

Your mouth drops open as you hit your clit just right and let moans slip past your lips. “Faster, please.” Rafe follows your command and helps guide you faster on his body. The couch creaking with each move. His whole thigh now covered in your slick. “Look at that, you like this baby?” You nod your head rapidly. Your mind turning blank all you can think about is your boyfriend’s thigh and how good it’s making you feel.

“I love it. I’ve always wanted to do this. feels so good.”

Rafe raises his eyebrows at your honesty. “You’ve been wanting to ride my thigh like this? Do you like my thighs?” You whine loudly and nod your head again. Unable to respond with words at the increasing feeling in your lower stomach.

“Such a needy girl.”

Rafe can tell you’re getting close, he starts shaking his thigh up and down to match your movement. “Please, please, I’m gonna cum.” Your grip tightens on Rafes bicep and your eyes drop down onto the mess you’re making on your boyfriend. “Cum on my thigh pretty girl, I wanna feel your cum drip all over me.” The sight alone pushes you closer to the edge but that mixed with Rafes deep voice and the constant pleasure being applied to your clit sends you falling off of it hard. You scream out in pleasure as your orgasm rips through you, making your body tremble as you ride out the high.

The room gets quiet the only noise to be heard is your heaving breathing as you come down. Rafe lifts you up and sees strings of your release clinging to his pants and your cunt. His pants are horribly ruined but he doesn’t even care, “holy shit. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“More.”

He furrows his eyebrows, “what baby?”

“I want more of you.” You bend down and start to undo his jeans.

He sighs in satisfaction of his cock not being restrained anymore. Fuck is he thankful that he waited for you to come home.

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christopherisfoive · 6 days ago

Text

Bad News, Baby

Han Jisung x Makeup Intern!Reader | Rockstar AU | 18+ | Smut

Summary: You spent the whole tour trying to resist him.

A messy black sports car, a mini skirt, and Han’s filthy mouth later — you never stood a chance.

Slow-burn tension, possessive backseat fucking, sticky fingers, and leather seats. He warned you he was bad news.

Warnings:

18+ only. unprotected sex. fingering. oral fixation (implied) overstimulation. dirty talk. possessive behavior. light manhandling. backseat sex. general filth

a/n: Idk man Jisung is just.....anyway this is not edited so pls forgive my mistakes and you can dm me about them :D love u! Will try to continue requests tomorrow. (try) goodnight :)

Your hand trembled just slightly as you angled the eyeliner pen against Han’s face.

He sat in the makeup chair like he owned it, legs spread wide, denim jacket slipping down his shoulders, messy hair falling into his eyes.

He wasn’t even pretending to behave.

"You're staring," Han said lazily, voice deep and smug, the smirk curling his lips pure trouble.

"Not that I blame you."

You scowled, focusing extra hard on the flick of liner at the corner of his eye.

Professional. You were professional.

You weren’t going to fall for some cocky, gorgeous, tattooed little shit of a rockstar.

"You keep talking," you said, voice carefully even, "I'll make your wings uneven."

Han chuckled low in his throat a rough sound that slid down your spine and pooled low in your stomach.

"Maybe I want 'em messy," he murmured, voice dropping, "like you’ll be after I’m done with you."

You nearly dropped the eyeliner.

Instead, you leaned in closer, letting your breath brush his cheek, a small, stupid act of defiance and whispered.

"You're bad news, rockstar."

Han's eyes gleamed like you’d just handed him a victory.

"Bad news, huh? You think about me being bad a lot?" You jabbed the cap of the pen against his forehead, making him flinch and laugh.

"You’re insufferable."

"And you," he said, grinning wide, "are gonna come crawling to me one day, begging for it." You stepped back, tossed the eyeliner onto the table, and turned away before he could see the heat creeping up your neck.

"Dream on, Han."

His chuckle followed you down the hallway.

"Every night, baby."

You didn’t notice your boss watching until it was too late. The lead makeup artist — a sharp-eyed woman who had already warned you once about getting "too friendly" with the talent gave Han a pointed look from across the room.

“Han,” she said loudly, arms crossed. “Leave her alone, would you? Some of us are actually trying to work.”

You froze, mortified. Han just smirked wider, tilting his head like he was innocent.

“Just making conversation,” he said, all fake sweetness.

“Save it for after the show,” your boss snapped.

“And stop distracting her.”

Han caught your eye as he slouched off toward the stage door, mouth curling into a wicked little smile meant only for you. Distracting you was the whole point.

And you were already losing.

The final night of tour.

The venue was packed, the energy insane. You were doing your best to stay invisible, fixing smudges, running around, pretending not to notice Han watching you from across the backstage area.

At the afterparty, you tucked yourself into a corner, pretending to reorganize the nearby table of drinks, the hem of your black mini skirt riding dangerously high when you moved, showing off the soft curve of your thighs. Your tight ribbed tank top hugged your waist, just visible under an oversized jacket slipping off one shoulder.

You weren't trying to look good. You just did.

Han saw you immediately and the second he did, his mouth curled into a slow, dangerous smirk. You didn’t hear him approach until he was already pressed up behind you, body heat sinking into your skin. His hand braced on the table beside yours, caging you in.

"You gonna keep running, makeup girl?" he murmured, voice dark and low against your ear.

You stiffened, gripping the table until your fingers hurt.

"You're drunk," you muttered.

Han chuckled, that rough, dangerous sound.

"Drunk on you, maybe."

You opened your mouth to snap at him but he grabbed your hand instead, fingers wrapping tight around yours.

"Come on," he said, voice thick with something wild and reckless."Let’s get out of here."

Before you could process it, he was dragging you through the crowd — weaving between bodies, yanking you toward the service exit at the back of the venue.

The heavy door slammed behind you with a metallic clang, cutting off the roar of the party.

You stumbled into the humid night air, heart hammering, adrenaline buzzing through your veins. Han didn’t slow down. He pulled you across the cracked pavement of the staff parking lot toward a black sports car gleaming under the streetlights, dusty from too many late nights and fast drives.

His car.

He yanked the door open without a word, shoving you into the backseat, the leather hot against your bare thighs. Then he was climbing in after you and slamming the door, sealing you both inside.

The world blurred away.

It was just the two of you now in the dark, the heat, the thud of your racing hearts.

"No more running," Han said, voice wrecked and raw.

And then he was on you.

You barely had time to gasp before Han’s mouth crashed into yours, rough, desperate, tongue pushing deep, hands everywhere. The car smelled like leather and sweat and smoke and him, thick and heady and suffocating and you drank it in like you were starving. Han shoved you flat across the backseat, his body pressing you down, grinding between your open thighs.

“You’re mine,” he growled against your mouth, voice shaking. “You fucking hear me? Mine.”

You whimpered, clawing at his shirt, heart pounding so hard you thought it might tear through your ribs. He pulled back just enough to look down at you. Messy hair, kiss-swollen lips, chest heaving and smirked. His hands dragged down your thighs. Rough palms against bare skin.

“Knew you were hiding this pretty little skirt under that jacket,” he muttered, voice thick with hunger. “You wore this for me, didn’t you, baby?”

You shook your head frantically, but your body betrayed you, hips arching up into his touch. Han grinned wider. He looked wicked, cocky and shoved your skirt up around your waist, exposing the thin scrap of panties underneath. He hooked two fingers into the waistband and dragged them down slow. Knuckles brushing over your soaked folds, making you gasp.

“Look at you,” he rasped. “Fucking dripping for me.”

He dropped your panties onto the car floor and spread your thighs wide, hands gripping hard enough to bruise. Without warning, he shoved two fingers deep inside you. You sobbed, high and broken, back arching off the seat.

“So needy,” Han muttered, curling his fingers to press right against that sweet, aching spot inside you.

The wet, slick sound of him fingerfucking you filled the car — obscene, messy, desperate. You whined, hips jerking helplessly.

“You hear that?” he rasped against your neck. “That’s you, sweetheart. So fucking desperate for my cock.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. When he finally pulled his fingers out, you whimpered. The sudden emptiness unbearable. Han unzipped his jeans, freeing his cock was thick, flushed, leaking and grabbed your hips roughly.

“You gonna take it?” he whispered, voice shaking with how bad he wanted it. “You gonna let me fuck you until you can't even remember your name?”

You nodded frantically, eyes wide and tear-filled. He didn’t wait. Han slammed into you in one brutal thrust, punching a scream from your throat. The stretch was overwhelming and brutal, perfect, too much. He didn’t give you time to adjust, just set a hard, punishing rhythm, fucking you so deep the car rocked with every savage thrust.

“So tight,” Han panted, teeth scraping your neck. “Made for me.”

You sobbed, hands clawing at the leather, hips jerking helplessly.

At some point, Han slid his hand down your body, pressing hard against your lower stomach.

You felt it. The thick, brutal drag of his cock moving inside you, stretching you open.

“Feel that?” he growled. “Feel how deep I am?”

You nodded desperately, tears spilling over, thighs trembling.

He grunted, grinding harder ,making sure you felt every thick inch and your mind completely shattered.

The pressure built fast , dizzying, unbearable.

Han’s hand found your clit, rough and messy, dragging you over the edge.

“Cum for me,” he growled against your lips. “Wanna feel you fall apart.”

You shattered , your orgasm ripping through you so hard you screamed, nails clawing at his shoulders, cunt clenching down around his cock.

Han cursed, fucking you through it ,and then he was groaning deep in his chest, slamming deep as he spilled inside you.

Hot. Endless. Overwhelming.

You whimpered at the stretch, the heat, the dizzying fullness.

Han stayed inside you for a moment ,grinding lazily, making you feel every filthy, sticky inch.

When he finally pulled out, it was slow , dragging himself out inch by messy inch, until you were gasping, leaking all over the leather.

Instead of stopping, he rubbed his cock lazily against your bare, dripping folds , spreading the mess everywhere, making you twitch and sob from overstimulation.

“Such a good little mess,” Han muttered, watching you with dark, hungry eyes.

He pressed two fingers against your swollen pussy, spreading you open, just enough to see his cum leaking out.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “Prettiest thing I've ever seen.”

You shoved at him weakly, cheeks burning, but he just grinned and leaned in for one more filthy, claiming kiss.

“You’re mine, sweetheart,” he whispered against your mouth. “And you fucking love it.”

And you did.

God help you, you did.

You were still catching your breath, trembling and dazed, when Han finally leaned back. The wild look in his eyes had softened, his thumb gently brushing your cheek, wiping away the tear tracks neither of you had noticed before.

He let out a shaky breath, the adrenaline fading, and leaned his forehead against yours.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

You nodded slowly, eyes still glassy. Your voice was too wrecked to speak yet.

He kissed your temple, not hungry or rough this time, just soft, grounding. Then he reached back behind the seat, pulling out the hoodie he always threw in his car and wrapping it gently around your shoulders.

"C’mere," he whispered, helping you sit up, guiding your body carefully into his lap as he stayed stretched across the seat. One of his hands rested against your back. The other stayed at your waist, thumb stroking slowly, gently.

No teasing. No smirk. Just Han, quiet and warm and holding you like you meant something.

Like he didn’t want to let go.

He murmured something into your hair — soft and low, too quiet to catch — but the way he held you a little tighter after said more than words ever could.

When your breathing finally evened out, you shifted in his lap slightly, trying to look at him. He brushed your hair back with a tenderness that caught you off guard.

“You were so good for me,” he said, voice low and real. “So fucking perfect.”

You felt your throat tighten again. He smiled at you — not the cocky smirk, not the tease — just a small, sincere curve of his lips like he was still trying to believe it happened.

And when you leaned into his chest, letting your weight sink into him, Han wrapped both arms around you like he was afraid you’d disappear.

He helped you climb off him carefully, guiding your shaky legs and holding onto your waist as you both adjusted yourselves in silence. When you winced softly, he muttered an apology under his breath and kissed your shoulder, then reached for his hoodie and slipped it over your head.

The air outside the car was cooler now, and Han didn’t say a word as he opened the door and helped you into the passenger seat up front. He tossed the hoodie’s sleeves over your bare thighs before shutting the door and sliding behind the wheel.

The engine rumbled to life, but he didn’t drive yet.

“You sure you're okay?” he asked again, glancing at you, softer this time.

You nodded slowly, eyes still glassy.

He leaned over, brushing your hair from your face. “Still think I’m bad news?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Absolutely.”

But this time, you were smiling — and so was he.

As he pulled out of the lot, one of his hands found yours between the seats and didn’t let go.

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