#Tiniest tank top ever

[theirloveisgross]

Hi Jules,

I have a question for you. Which is the tiniest tank top Louis wore? Austin show or O2 show London? Although I suspect you will say Austin🤭 anyways both the tanks were so fit it hugged him so tight!

Definitely the Austin one but don't mind me if I make my case again.

They both did fit him very snuggly. I'll provide some visual aid (I love an excuse to look at photos of Louis (even if I don't need one)).

Here's the London tank top.

A fit racerback tank top that made his back and shoulder muscles look so fucking good. The sleeve cut was wide and low so we got to appreciate his beautiful armpits a whole lot that day (x x).

Here's the Austin tank top.

A light tank top that showed off his arms and collarbones. The material was very thin causing his sweat to soak through quickly. The neck cut of this tank top was so low, his tattoo was completely visible, save from the little bits (literally only one letter on each side) covered by the very tiny straps (x x).

Let's see how they fared on the barricade.

Now, according to the number of nipples and chest tattoos we can see after some hands pull on each top (I know a hand is blocking the first photo but there's only one nipple, okay), we can conclude that the Austin tank top was the tiniest and flimsiest tank top of them all (x x).

The Austin top was so flimsy in fact, that it ripped in half (x x). :c

And so... The Austin tank top was SO. TINY. THE TINIEST.

Thank you for your attention. Wear a spaghetti strap tank top next, Louis. Or a crop top. :)

[lumibuns-blog]

Ghost x Soap's roomie Morning routine

Ghosts and Gaz stay the week and Soap's apartment. Ghost falls head over heels for you and can't seem to think of anything else.

This time its just Simon having not felt the touch of a women in years and that being so so obvious lmaooo.

Simon woke up from a surprisingly restful sleep, his back may have been shifted into a less than ideal position and his legs were sticking out over the arm rest, but he woke up mostly rested. Stretching and cracking his back with a low groan, he shuffled to the kitchen. 8:32, his internal clock had graciously given him an extra two minutes of sleep before waking him on instinct. He dragged a hand over his tired face and slumped over to the bathroom. He hissed as his eyes adjusted to the bright bathroom light and he looked at himself in the mirror.

It had gotten hot in the middle of the night, and so his sweat pants had been discarded somewhere by the couch, leaving him in only his low hanging boxer shorts. He looked like a pure mess, short hair tussled in every direction, prominent bags hung under his eyes but still did nothing to distract from the scars that littered his face. He pinched his brow and tried to remember where he had left his face mask the night before. For the first time in a long time, he found himself hyperaware of his own appearance. It wasn't just his "ugly mug" anymore, he found himself wondering if there was some way he could get those stubborn bags to disappear. But he couldn't quite understand why he wanted to look "better", his head too foggy with sleep to place these emotions somewhere. Until there was a muffled shuffling outside the open bathroom door, he turned to find the source of the noise and felt his mind snap back into the right place almost immediately.

There you stood, in perhaps the tiniest pair of shorts he had ever seen and tight white tank-top that was nothing short of see-thru. He tensed up and dragged his eyes up your figure, having to bite his lip and physically force his eyes from your chest and what was poking through your shirt. He settled on looking at your face, eyelids heavy with sleep and squinting from the light, your messy hair cascaded down your shoulders as you yawned. It was only then he remembered what he was wearing and he began to self-consciously pull up on his boxer shorts. Unfazed and unbothered, you slotted next to him in front of what he was slowly beginning to realize was much too small of a sink.

"Mornin'" you grumbled, voice still laced with sleep

"ahm-" he felt his voice get stuck in his throat and quickly coughed to clear it "Uh- mornin'" he finally drawled out, doing his best to remain collected.

It was difficult for him to retain any semblance collectedness as he turned towards the mirror and saw just how close you were. Your shoulder practically bumping into his lower bicep. He began to realize just how much of a hight difference you shared and he could feel his face heating up. So he fumbled for his toothbrush and began to maneuver it with shaky hands.

"Sleep okay?" You droned, turning lazily to look up towards him

"jus' fine" He breathed, not daring to look down at you, knowing it would be too much for him to handle.

"That's good" You chirped back, a smile evident in your voice.

He dared to look down in your direction and found you attempting to squeeze a bit of product out of a tube. You scrunched you face up in a sleepy effort to get more out of what was clearly an almost empty bottle. After a couple moments of trying you slumped over and, without looking at him, moved the tube towards his hands.

"wot?" he looked at you directly now, genuinely confused

"You do it" you slurred "my hands are still too sleepy" and, as if to prove your point, you held out one hand to him and tried your hardest to clench it into a fist but to no avail.

"wh- but- um...okay" he relented almost immediately

If you had been more conscious you might have chuckled at the sight of Simon 'Ghost' Riley crouched down slightly, his face twisted in concentration as he produced a small amount of product from the tube. Carefully dabbing it onto your palm, cautious to not touch your hand with his. You had heard of him from the animated stories your roommate recounted to you with while on leave. You had expected this mostly silent, mysterious, and deadly soldier to approach you like a roaring storm. Sweeping into your life for a weak and leaving a confusing, mangled mess in its wake. But instead he entered more like a calm spring rain, he approached you like he was afraid if he moved too quickly he would startle you off. He looked at you not like some hardened fighter would survey their surroundings. But like a small child sitting on a playground bench, just waiting for someone else to finally tell them they could join in the fun that they had silently observed for so long. Simon Riley may have been a bit of a mystery to you now, but you were determined to change that.

"looks like I'm almost out..." you sighed, having taken the product back from his shaking hands and washing you face with it. You stood there for a moment, shifting your weight back and forth from one foot to another, "Go shopping with me?" you offered with a bright smile, suddenly much more awake than you had been before.

"s'cuse me?" He answered, befuddled beyond comprehension

But you had already bounded off down the hallway not waiting for an answer. You swung open the door the Johnny's room just as Kyle was reaching for the handle

"easy there sweet'art" he chuckled, pushing past you with a hand on your head "'morning to you too mate" he nudged Simon and chuckled at his perturbed expression. Gaz knew that if he was anyone else, his mate probably would have broken the hand he set you, so he just strode into the kitchen. Once again unfazed, you continued into Johnny's room.

"what 'er you up to?" Simon questioned, one hand propping himself up on the door frame.

"Waking the little prick up so we can go out" you stated matter-a-factly.

"wouldn't bet on it" Gaz called from the kitchen

"hm?" you tilted your head to one side

"-e's right" Simon sighed "Not even the Cap' can get 'im up when he's got a day off"

you just smiled and rolled you eyes "It's not that hard" you chuckled "see?"

they both watched with interest as you picked up a pillow from the bed and took a step back. They then watched as you lifted the pillow in the air,

"Johnny!" you yelled

there was no response besides a small shuffle.

"John Mactavish!?" you winded up further

"mmm...ooOWW!? THE 'ELL YOU THINK YOU'RE DOIN' EH?" Johnny's voice crescendoed as you began to hit him with the pillow. They were quick, hard, and precisely aimed strikes, "AYE STOP THAT YA' WEE SONOFA-" he grabbed the pillow on one of your downward strokes and easily wrenched it from your hand. You turned tail and ran, brushing past Simon's frame in the door and rounding to the couch. Simon barely had a chance to react to your movement before Johnny was shoving past him, pillow in hand.

"get 'yer arse back here!" Johnny growled, all but leaping over the kitchen island to reach you, now having come to standstill as you both stood on opposite sides of the coffee table.

"see?" you grinned, gesturing with one hand to your smirking roommate and with the other to your guests, "Easy to get him up if ya do it right." you narrowed your eyes in a teasing gesture.

"Oh haha! Real feckin funny 'a you" Johnny quipped "gettin' me up on ma' day off, takin' the piss from the lot'a you" you groaned, before holding up his pillow and smirking, "put somethin' on wouldya'? fookin chebs 'r out" He scolded, before throwing the pillow in your direction.

"what you mean my-?" you looked down before your face turned bright red, "you-" you stammered "you disgusting little perv!"

You scowled and picked up the closest thing to you, a lip glass container that had sat on the coffee table, and threw it at him with deadly aim. It hit his temple and you clutched the pillow closer to your chest.

"AYE! that shit 'urts ya know?" He picked up the lip products and pointed it at you accusatorially.

"Good" you smiled as you trudged back to your room, presumably to change, "We leave to go shopping in 20" you call

"We're doing shopping?" Johnny suddenly perked up, eyes wide like a dog before he tried to hide his excitement. "an' who's 'we', I didnae agreed tae go anywhere wit' you" you teased

"Wasn't talking about you" you peaked your head around the corner "Simon and I are going." you stated "Kyle, you're invited. Johnny? I'll let ya tag along if you're nice." you grinned, closing the door to your room.

Kyle and Johnny now both turned back to Simon who standing completely still on the other side of the room, having managed to wrestle his sweatpants on during the chaos. He stood there with his mouth slightly agape, on one hand he was buzzing with excitement over the fact you had specifically wanted to go out shopping with him specifically. On the other hand, seeing you run around in only that tank top was forcing him to bite his cheek to stave off a stiffy that would have been all too obvious. He could picture chasing you around the flat, just the two of you home, lifting you up by your waist and letting you hook your ankles around his waist. He needed to be close enough to feel your warmth, he needed to know what you would feel like around him, around his-

"'s that true L.t?" Johnny broke him from his thoughts, doing his best to sound actually hurt.

"'s nothin' don' worry 'bout it" Simon grumbled

"don' sound like nothing" Kyle teased.

"drop it" Simon warned, taking a seat at the island

"Not until you drop whateva's goin' on doon there man" Johnny gestured widely to his friends lower half, now concealed by the table. "Gettin' a right stauner from that? From 'er? ma' fookin flatmate man? 's a little embarrassing no?" he finished with a half hearted chuckle

"Not another word" Simon dragged both his hands through his short hair as he propped himself up on his elbows, the threatening tone in his voice shut Johnny up quick. Him and Kyle snickering to themselves as they left to go get dressed.

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose, never before had someone been able to throw him off like you were. It was like you took ever part of his hardened exterior away and left him as vulnerable as the day he born and even stranger, he didn't mind it. He didn't mind that your gaze set his body on fire, he didn't mind that every time he though about your hight difference he felt compelled to squeeze you so hard you might break. He was just so enamored with you, that even as he calmed down enough to get fully dressed, his mind kept drifting back to you in this primal, protective way. Where he wished you had let those two sleep in so he could have had you all to himself, even if the thought of having to make conversation with you did sound terrifying.

You gave him no more time to think however, as you bounded out of the hallway in a cute short sundress, you hair pulled up and off your neck. You opened the door and turned back to him and his two friends who had followed you out to the main room.

"ready to go?" you chimed

Simon moved towards to door subconsciously, he would have followed you anywhere.

Omg I finally got a longer part out thank godddd lmao. Finished with midterms so I should be back to regular posting! I'll have their shopping trip posted within a couple days and I'll do a little ghost x reader thing for halloween. mwah!

Tags: @sleep101 @urbimom@noisydelusionlove@plk-18 @pinkyfqiry @wwe1rdc0re @vmaxis@jenlvr01@lovelovelovelovelove987654321 @ifsunmibts @callmeluno@nina-from-317@strawberrygateau@leryg0@weemansoap@dreamtofus@imjustheretofightforlove @electricmentalitypersona @castellomargot @foxintheferns @weallhaveadestiny @identity2212 @trashitytrashtrash @glitteryarcadefart @thepowers-kat-be @xi1dius

[grimesthinker]

Stepdad!rick having a bunch of friends over for a poker night or something and you come downstairs to get some water and popcorn, wearing the tiniest, tightest pyjamas he’s ever seen. And ur unaware of the several wandering eyes cause you’re way too busy with your nose in a book, standing by the microwave. And Rick has to excuse himself for a moment to tell you to get back upstairs before he loses it and fucks you in front of his friends…

the stepdad!rick spam is EVERYTHING. i audibly squealed. i am in love with you.

you come down the stairs into the kitchen, a cherry lollipop stuck in your mouth and a book in hand. you take the candy from your mouth and smile sweetly to the group of men sitting around the kitchen table, stacks of cards and half empty beer bottles littering the scene.

"hi, daddy!" you greet rick with a kiss to his cheek. you think nothing of it. you're just being polite, after all. you skip to the cabinet and stand on your toes to reach the box of popcorn tucked inside. rick works his jaw as both your thin tank top and tiny pajama shorts ride up, exposing much of your skin. he tenses, gripping the beer bottle in his hand a bit too hard.

he loudly clears his throat when his friends' eyes linger on you for too long. your pretty bare skin, the way you suck on the lollipop as you put the bag of popcorn in the microwave. the men quickly go back to their card game, not wanting to displease rick anymore. you don't notice it. you bend over the counter and put your nose back into the book, reading while you wait for the popcorn to finish popping.

as rick watches you bend over the counter like that, lips sucking on the lollipop and eyes moving along the pages, he can't take it anymore. he gruffly excuses himself from the card game and treads to you, back to his friends so he can block their view as he admonishes you.

"what the hell do you think you're doing?" he asks, voice in a scolding whisper. you place the book on the counter and look up at him, head cocking to the side in confusion.

your voice is sweet. innocent. what a little actress, he thinks. "i don't know what you-"

"upstairs, now."

your eyebrows furrow in confusion and your bottom lip becomes wobbly. "but i-"

"now."

you know he means it. you do as he says, pouting and stomping up the stairs to your room. he excuses himself again and follows you, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

minutes later, your pajama shorts and panties are thrown to the ground, thighs pushed to your chest. you weep as his cock thrusts into your slick cunt, deeper and deeper. "m'sorry! was jus' being nice!" you cry, eyes teary and swollen lips pouty.

what a sight it was. you, the picture perfect embodiment of innocence, taking your step father's cock on your pretty pink bed while his friends wait downstairs. you whine and cling to him, moaning when his cock brushes against your g spot.

"open." he ignores your apologies and holds your jaw with his big hand, spitting on your tongue when you stick it out like the good girl you are.

he gives a slight nod so you can swallow, eyelashes fluttering up at him. your eyes are glossy, hands grabbing for him. he knows what you want. he always knows. he dips his head down to connect your lips. you mewl as he messily kisses you, nipping at your bottom lip. "fuckin' brat."

[hyperballart]

perv!art thoughts…

it began the moment he saw you around campus for the first time; you’re one of tashi’s closest friends and roommate so he knows he’ll be spotting you more often. his heart is still sore from the loss of tashi’s number, so he figured you’d be a good temporary distraction, but the second you talk to him he knows that ‘temporary’ won’t be the case.

all interactions with you are somewhat fleeting; greeting exchanges and some small talk, but it hooks him in more and more. he starts cutting up pictures of you he finds from the school’s newspaper from the sports section you’re in and keeping them in a small box under his bed. in one instance, he’d taken a picture frame from your desk when he went over to lend tashi his phone charger when she lost her own — it was a picture of you with a friend back home at the beach. he studied the way that tiny bikini clung to your wet skin, the small arch in your back, and your sweet smile every night before bed.

he gets so unbelievably hard when his mind wanders to you — which is all the time. when patrick comes to visit tashi, the four of you gather in you and tashi’s dorm to hang out. he always sneaks off with one of your belongings, small enough that you thankfully don’t get too alarmed of — his recent acquisition had been one of your used athletic shorts. he knows he should’ve thought this through when he knocks on your door and you open wearing some of the tiniest jean shorts he’d ever seen.

“hi art!”

he snaps out of it and greets you with a flustered hey before making himself comfortable. patrick, tashi, art, and you sit on the floor sipping on cold beers from the mini fridge and making conversation. art keeps zoning out throughout the night — he stares at your bare legs and thighs. he stares between them more specifically, at the way the denim is tightening with every subtle move around your thighs, he wants to rip the fabric off and kiss the red marks left behind better. as if on cue, you start to speak.

“—i don’t know where all my shorts keep disappearing,” you giggle as you adjust the hem on the ones you’re wearing, “i think they have to add cameras in the laundry room, i haven’t worn this pair since high school — god.”

art gulps as tashi replies, “maybe it’s just you at this point, this is like the 20th time you’ve misplaced something.”

the night carries on, art chimes into the conversation every once in a while and he struggles to hide his boner in his pants. he feels himself twitch when you get up and bend over to retrieve another beer. his head turns fuzzy and he replies with a stiff nod when patrick asks if he’s good.

he needs to touch his dick soon, he knows he won’t last but it kills him to be this close to you without his hands on your skin. he muffles a whimper when you get on your hands and knees and reach across between patrick and tashi to change the radio station.

you’re almost flush against his chest, he sees the way your tank top lifts up and reveals your midriff and waist, the dip in your lower back when your back naturally arches. he casts his eyes lower and notices the way your tiny jean shorts slide down a bit and tease a hot pink lacy thong — this one must be new, he hasn’t seen it in your drawer before — and he feels sweat building at his temple.

“there,” you sit back down next to him again as a rock song comes on, “oh god i’m sorry art, i didn’t realize i was gonna be in your space like that.”

“it— it’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he needs to leave now, “i actually have practice early tomorrow, i’m gonna go to bed.”

he says his goodbyes and you offer to walk him out, when you hug him he hopes you didn’t feel his erection. he quickly runs to his room.

he locks the door before plopping on his bed and immediately strips down. he spits on his tip and groans when he remembers the way you pouted when he announced his departure. he grips himself nice and hard — he bets you’ll be even tighter. he strokes himself upwards, base to head, and watches as more cum oozes from his slit. he sighs out your name as his eyes flutter shut and goes back to the way your thighs were bulging out of your shorts earlier.

“mmm, fuck,” he searches around under his pillow until he feels the stretchy fabric — your missing garment. he brings the crotch to his nose while his other hand frantically fucks his throbbing cock. he’s whining into it, the smell of you slightly lingering is enough to have him panting and really, really fucking close.

in his state of delirium he barely recognizes that he’s started licking and lapping at them, “tastes so fucking good, oh god, nnghh —“ he reaches down to his balls and squeezes them, wheezing out your name yet again as he glances to his bedside table where the picture of you in your bikini rests. he cums instantly in ropes that paint his chest.

[bunnyrafe]

We need to see more about stepbro!jj he'd love to corrupt you, and would totally try to grind his crotch on you everytime you bend over to pick up anything on the floor

rubbed my hands together deviously after seeing this ask. 100% — you’re so sweet that he just has to mess with you. never ever bully you because he can’t stand to see you cry, but he simply tests the waters and flusters you.

content / warnings -> 18+, MDNI. taboo themes stepcest, f!reader, jj being kinda icky, dubcon, grinding.

it’s been a quiet day. your morning was a bit gloomy once you realized jj had already ran off, hopefully not getting into any trouble. you pouted to yourself, made some tea, and decided to get to cleaning— someone has to.

starting with the mound of laundry jj had so kindly left. you can’t be that mad when there’s random items of your own mixed in, too. tank tops and skirts and panties that you have no clue jj steals from you sometimes…

the front door finally creaks open only to slam shut around noon. you hear the sound of jj’s boots thumping against the floor boards, down the hall until he stops at your room.

your ears ring as they expect to hear his voice but instead they recieve nothing. your face goes warm once you realize what kind of position you’re in. hands and knees, on the floor trying to yank random items out from under your bed. only in your stupid, frilly shorts that drive him insane and what has to be your tiniest top. jj’s a good man but sometimes you’re practically begging him for it, “you’re killin’ me, baby.”

your brain turns to mush when he calls you that. you look over your shoulder with wide eyes, watching him step closer and kneel down to your level; “i— i did your laundry,” you squeak out as if he gives a fuck.

“how sweet.” he grunts while grabbing up your hips, making you gasp when he yanks you against him. you already want to whine. only because he may get your shorts dirty.

“just the sweetest fuckin’ girl, aren’t you?” his words are drawled out against your ear. you can feel his cock pressing against your ass even through all the layers you two are still wearing, even more so when he ruts his hips.

“jj—” you choke out just as he sucks in a breath through his teeth, squeezing your hips under his deft digits.

“there we go.” he groans when you instinctively push back against him, wiggling your hips and nearly making him blow his load in his shorts right then and there.

his eyes roll back into his head for a moment before he dips down, kissing the swell of your cheek, “maybe i should give you a reward, huh? for doin’ all your chores...”

[starkeyisthelastname]

stepdad rafe with a corruption kink

Reader is 18 + 🎀

He wanted you from the moment he met you. You were the prettiest thing he had ever seen, greeting him in the tiniest skirt and cropped pink tank top. You hugged him tightly, bouncy tits rubbing against his chest. You smelled fucking good, like vanilla and had glitter all over your curvy body. Your ass way too fat to be wearing that skirt. He was going to ruin you.

Rafe wasn’t one for family time, much rather being doing something else. You had then asked him if he was going to watch a movie with you and your mom. He couldn’t say no to those eyes, now finding himself watching some stupid rom com. Your mother had long fell asleep, leaving you snuggled up to him without realizing.

Rafe had been scrolling through his phone when he felt your head tuck into his bicep with a shy giggle. He looked at the tv screen on impulse, seeing that there was a sex scene. A mediocre, PG-13 one at that. He looked back down at you, snorting at the fact you were hiding from this. He was definitely curious.

“What are you hiding for, kid?” Rafe scoffed.

You blushed, looking at the screen again before looking back up into blue eyes. “That’s naughty.. Rafey.” You whispered, innocently.

Rafe felt his cock twitch as he looked down at your beautiful face. He laughed quietly, glancing over at your wine-drunk sleeping mother and then back to you. “That’s not naughty princess. When I was your age, I was doing real naughty shit.” He told you as if he was that much older than you.

Like the curious girl you were, you wondered what he meant by naughty things. Your heavy tits brushed against his arm as you turned your body towards him. “Like what?”

His chuckle sounded low and dark, his hot breath tickling your ear as he leaned in. “You don't wanna know, baby doll.” He whispered, biting your ear lobe before pulling back with a smirk.

It wasn’t but a few nights later that Rafe, had just got in bed, hand on his cock to jerk when he heard a faint knock on the door. His wife was out of town, meaning that the only person in the house was you. Slowly walking in, you noticed your step-dad wearing only a pair of boxers, the blankets pulled back.

“What are you doing in here, kid?” He asked, reaching over to turn the lamp on. “Isn't it time for you to be in bed or some shit?” His hand still on the bulge of his underwear.

You rocked back and forth on your heels, biting your lower lip as you hesitated. “I'm scared to sleep in my room tonight.” You told him, chin wobbling.

Rafe laughed, one arm coming to rest behind his head. “You are 19, and you have no problem sleeping in that room when your mom’s here.” He told you, cock hardening more as he glanced over your tight little body.

You sighed, looking down at your pedicured toes. “Can I just sleep in here, please?” You asked, voice quiet as you waited for a reply.

“Get over here.” His tone was annoyed as he moved over to the other side, leaving you his spot. You climbed into the huge bed, smiling contently as you felt better now. He let you pick something to watch, as he tried to decide if he wanted to go to the bathroom to rub one out. That wouldn't be as fun though as ruining your little self in the same bed he shared with your mother.

“You know it's too bad you are scared, acting innocent and shit. Good girls like you don’t need to be told naughty things.” He said, making you turn your attention away from the tv.

You had forgotten all about that, now curious all over again as you wanted to know. You frowned, looking at him as you crossed your arms. “But, Rafey.. I really want to know.” You begged him, bouncing on your knees.

“You wanna know, huh?” He asked amused as he watched you rapidly nodded your head. “I’ll do anything. I want to learn from you Rafey!” You pleaded back.

Rafe could have sworn he nutted right then by hearing you say those words. You made this too fucking easy to corrupt your sweet self.

“Well if you wanna sleep in my bed, you are gonna earn a spot. Yeah? Gotta teach you some respect first and then you are gonna learn to take big dick in all your holes.” He told you, giving your jaw a nudge.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ tsukishima plays the waiting game

warnings: fem! reader, pre and post timeskip! tsukishima, tsuki gets slapped, reader is a sweetie, yamaguchi and hinata mentioned, tbh its mostly fluff

MDNI | No 18+ content here, I just don't want minors interacting with my blog

word count -> 785

part two

Kei Tsukishima wasn’t the best at showing affection at all. He only liked and respected Yamaguchi, but apart from that, there wasn’t really anyone he thought merited his honest and most sincere loyalty and trust. Sure, he respected Daichi when he was still in high school, but Daichi was his captain. It was different.

Then, you moved to Miyagi and enrolled in Karasuno in mid-April. You were placed in the same class as Yamaguchi and Tsukishima. Apparently, you had scored in the top 1% in your old high school, much to Tsukishima’s chagrin. He assumed you would be just another one of those academic bitches (like himself) who only cared about what directly affected them. 

That was the first time Tsukishima was wrong. 

You were sickeningly sweet, so much so that many people thought it was just an act. Tsukishima first thought this, too, that a wolf was hiding under that fluffy sheep wool. But no, there wasn’t. You were genuinely nice without ulterior motives, always volunteering to tutor students after class. You even helped Yamaguchi with his English vocabulary and grammar. He didn’t even have to ask! That’s how sweet you were, and Tsukishima hated that. Well, only at first. 

He knew he liked you the second you snapped at him, calling him an asshole in front of the entire Karasuno team. He was practicing serves and missed completely, the volleyball slamming into your torso as you walked by the practice gym. Instead of apologizing, he blamed you for being in the way. 

Instead of you apologizing for having dared to be in the way of a rouge volleyball, he was met with a cold smack in the face. Vulgar words left your mouth, your face heating up in anger as you called him out for being a stuck-up prick who didn’t care about anyone but himself (and maybe Yamaguchi.) The Karasuno team stood in shock as you screamed at him, your usual friendly and kind demeanor long forgotten. Hinata thought that Tsukishima was absolutely going to murder you, but instead, the lanky blonde just stood there with the tiniest blush on his cheeks. You called him out; you slapped him. The sweetest girl in Karasuno slapped him and humbled him in front of his teammates. You weren’t just an innocent little lamb, you bit. And Tsukishima liked that. 

Tsukishima never acted on his urges in high school; he was too busy with class and volleyball and Hinata’s bullshit to worry about romantic relationships. But he caught himself sneaking glances at you throughout high school, no matter where he was. You two were always in the same class, weirdly enough. Graduation eventually came, and lo and behold, the two of you went to Sendai. He was on a semi-volleyball scholarship, and you had a full academic ride because you did. And to his horror, or perhaps delight, you both had the same entry-level statistics class.

He first noticed that you had a sense of personal style that he approved of. Tsukishima had only ever seen you in the Karasuno girl’s school uniform before, so it was a pleasant surprise to see you wearing a spaghetti strap tank top with a wool cardigan and loose jeans. It was…cute.

Tsukishima was taken aback when you walked up to him after class, bowing your head slightly to apologize for screaming at him when you were in high school. He smirked and accepted the apology, pushing your head down further. 

“You also slapped me and called me an asshole, remember?”

You became flustered and started apologizing even more, tilting your head with sparkling eyes.

“I know, I’m really sorry. I don’t want any bad blood. How can I make this up to you?”

“Go on a date with me.” It came out of his lips so fast that Tsukishima didn’t have time to cover it up with a cough. How could he let that slip from his lips, he always thought before speaking. He thought before doing anything! He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, looking away in embarrassment. “Go on…just go on a date with me, please. I’ve liked you since high school, moron.”

You smiled and hugged him, squeezing his torso with all your might. Of course, Tsukishima thought this was adorable, he was a foot taller than you. “Of course, I’ll go on a date with you! Where?” You asked as you looked up, the prettiest smile plastered across your shining face. Fuck, Tsukishima was totally screwed. He’d give you the world right then and there if he wasn’t so proud. 

“My dorm? Yamaguchi is out with friends for the weekend.”

“Yamaguchi has friends other than you? Damn, he really grew up.”

“Indeed,”

Tsukishima’s side of the dorm was immaculate. Spotless, organized, and decorated with dinosaur posters. It was cute and nerdy, making you smile. Maybe deep down inside, he wasn’t such a jerk.

[lovemeafterhrs]

go-go dancer!

i’m your go-go dancer, credit card romancer!

megumi fushiguro x next door neighbor! reader

author’s note: this the longest fic i’ve written in years LMAO.. been deliberating this concept since september

word count: 10.7k

MDNI! all characters are 18+

major inspo: midnight answer by @/hellokittyheat on AO3, go-go dancer and lolita (demo 4) by LDR.

warnings: megumi is sooo sexually frustrated, masturbation, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected sex, double creampie. reader has nipple piercings

listen along:

when megumi fushiguro moved out of gojo’s house at age twenty-one, he did not expect that he’d wind up in this kind of situation. 

he felt like a pervert, wishing that his new neighbor had something darker than sheer curtains. he hadn’t even met you yet, and he’d already seen far more of your body than he should. still, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight from the first floor next door. it was like you were teasing him, constantly running around the house in nothing but a lace bra and panties. 

he watched curiously as you threw clothes across the room, obviously irritated as you picked out your outfit. you tutted in annoyance at the lack of options, before finally settling on yet another tiny black skirt. 

you considered it to be drab, uninspired even. megumi however, was raising a brow at the tiny scrap of fabric you were shimmying over your hips. he stood in front of his window, clearly entertained as he watched you bend over in front of the mirror. 

you shrugged your shoulders, content with the way it flattered your ass, at least. 

unaware that you had an audience, you rushed to throw on a low-cut top and find your shoes before you ended up being late. 

if you had known, you probably would’ve risked missing your shift just to see the priceless look on your hot neighbor’s face. 

the front door of your apartment slammed shut as you made your way to the car. he could hear every shuffle of your slippers against the pavement, and he couldn’t help but wonder where you disappeared to every friday and saturday night in such a hurry. 

perhaps he’d ask you, someday. 

if he ever got the guts to talk to you in the first place. 

the first time you introduced yourself to him, he had started to question his own judgment when it came to what he knew about you. you were so kind, and more reserved than he expected. your crimson lips lifted into a gentle smile as you spoke your name, asking for his shortly after. the soft, melancholic melody of your voice met his ears, and it sent a jolt of electricity through his spine. 

it was a far cry from anything he could've expected from peeping through your window. he felt guilty for assuming anything of you, especially when you greeted him with a smile and a plate of warm cookies. 

nobara and yuji thought it was the funniest shit they’d ever seen, watching his cheeks burn with shame as he closed the front door with baked goods in hand. 

it hadn’t helped that you were wearing a low-cut tank top and the tiniest shorts he’d ever seen. he’d spent most of his adolescence relatively sheltered, and he’d never paid the women in his life much mind. 

that all changed a few days later when you practically pulled his face into your cleavage, spinning him around in a crushing hug after he pulled your cat out of a tree.

you had become a consistent presence in his life since you first introduced himself to him, and he now found himself regretting taking those cookies out of your hands on that fateful day. a gentle breeze of vanilla wafted through his nostrils in the gentle spring wind as you spun him around in circles enthusiastically. 

something had changed, he just didn’t know what. you were less withdrawn than before, almost like you had grown comfortable in his presence within a few days. his assumption was mostly true, save for one piece of information. 

you had started to like seeing the blush dusting over his cheeks whenever you spoke to him. you liked it a little too much, it seemed. any intention you had to keep to yourself went quickly out the window when you realized you wanted to know as much as you could about him. 

you couldn’t help but try to get him to open up to you, or look at you for just a moment. 

so as of late, you had been playing it up just a little. you could’ve sworn he saw the hearts dancing around in your irises every time his dark eyes met yours. 

him coming to your rescue in a time of need was just the icing on the cake of the situation. 

you were so grateful for his help, so thankful that he’d been there to save the day. your tone was syrupy sweet as you showered him with gratitude, pressing his arm between your breasts as you led him towards his front door. 

he’d fallen into your trap, he just didn’t know it yet. 

“god. she’s really laying it on thick, isn’t she?” nobara and yuji chuckled amongst themselves. yuji shrugged his shoulders, before picking up your purring calico. 

“can’t help that megumi’s oblivious.” was his reply, followed by another less-than-subtle jab to his friend. “that boy couldn’t take a hint if it saved his life.” 

“that’s a fucking understatement.” nobara mumbled under her breath, waving to the pair as they approached the doorstep. “do you think she’s in over her head?”

“dunno.” he whispered back, scratching gently into your cat’s soft fur. 

they watched you thank him profusely with stars shining in your eyes. meanwhile, megumi was trying really hard to keep his eyes from falling to your tits. 

the entire situation resulted in an onslaught of teasing and laughing as soon as they crossed the threshold of his apartment. 

“your face is red.” his peach-haired friend mocked, plopping himself down on megumi’s sofa. 

“thanks for pointing that out, dickhead.” he frowned, causing nobara to burst into another fit of laughter. 

for a man who was known for being oblivious, even he knew what he was falling into. he didn’t really want it to end, either. however, he was worried about the potential escalation if he didn’t keep himself in check. 

perhaps you were just fucking with him, and it would come to an end when you got bored. there wasn’t any way in hell that you were being serious, right? 

he hoped that this moment would be the worst of it, but he’d soon be proven wrong. 

as spring turned to summer, he started to regret moving out in the first place. it was excruciating to watch you sunbathing in the grass, wearing nothing but a tiny red bikini. you had to be doing this on purpose, he realized. he just didn’t have any proof, and it was driving him insane. 

“megumi!” you called out innocently, beckoning him towards you with sunscreen in hand. fuck. he was so screwed. “i need your help!” 

he let out an audible groan as he crossed into your yard, already knowing what you were going to ask him to do. 

“can you get my back?” your question caused megumi to flush all over, and he nodded after a moment of hesitation. of course he’d be willing to help his friend, even if he thought you were doing this purely to drive him to the brink of insanity.  

you rolled over onto your stomach, your ass on display for him as he tried to keep himself focused. the dark haired man squeezed the tube of sunscreen, warming it up with his hands before his fingers began to move over your back with unnecessary caution. 

you let out a small gasp when his hands pressed into your lower back, rubbing the lotion into your soft skin. he could feel your breathing pick up as his hands traveled up your spine. calloused fingers pressed into the knots woven into your shoulders, then gently passed over your shoulder blades. 

he was trying to be respectful, but he couldn’t stop his eyes from darting downward. he had to keep tearing his eyes away, and he sighed in relief when he finally accomplished your request. 

he rose to his feet, trying his best to keep his thoughts innocent as you offered a sweet and honest “thank you!” 

he watched you relax into the plush towel laid out across the grass, and nearly stumbled over the ledge of the concrete on his way back to his front door. he turned himself back around, focusing too closely on the ground to keep himself from tripping. 

he didn’t know how much more of this he could take. 

he had been avoiding treading outside after that moment, petrified that you’d appear next to him to taunt him with more of your innocent teasing. 

he couldn’t bear to look at you, overwhelmed with guilt from every time had imagined your cute little smile while he had his dick in his hand. things had gotten too out of hand too quickly, and he didn’t know how to deal with the feeling of attraction to you blooming deep within his gut. 

the next time he caught sight of you, it was approaching three a.m. on a saturday morning. he looked over the railing of the porch, watching your car pull into the parking space across the street. he raised an eyebrow when you got out of the car, not missing the clicking of your platform heels against the pavement. he’d seen you in a lot of revealing outfits, but this time was.. different. he spotted the subtle shine of glitter all over your skin and nearly started drooling when you stopped in front of the door to take off your shoes. 

you leaned down to remove the buckles and he watched in horror as your skirt crawled up the back of your thighs. the seam of the fabric barely covered the swell of your ass, leaving him at a loss for words.

once again, it felt like you were teasing him to death without even trying. 

he wondered where you had been for the last few hours, as he hadn’t seen you leave. you looked tired, but not intoxicated in any way. 

peculiar. 

still, he didn’t pay it much mind as he walked back inside his apartment. megumi looked up at the clock, and let out a groan as he read the time. 

so much for getting up early tomorrow. he frowned, kicking off his slippers as he crawled into bed. 

he went to bed that night dreaming about you bent over in front of him, skirt pulled up over your hips with his hands fisted into your hair.

his beauty sleep was interrupted by the sound of a lawn mower revving next door, and he let out a groan as he pulled his pillow around his ears. 

of course. he sighed, scrunching his nose in annoyance as he stared up at the clock. 

after a few moments of grumbling, he finally pulled himself out of the comfort of his plush bedding. a loud yawn reverberated off the walls of the hallway as he shuffled his way to the kitchen. 

he glared out the window as he filled up the coffee pot with water, only at that moment realizing that the loud noises from the mower had ceased. 

megumi grimaced when he saw you chatting with his sister on your front lawn. she must have dropped by to see him, and couldn’t keep herself from saying hi to his cute neighbor. she’d undoubtedly tease him for it later, and he closed the curtains with a frown. 

around ten minutes later, he heard a knock on his front door. when he opened it, tsumiki’s face was stretched into a large shit-eating grin. 

“i met your neighbor.” were the first words out of his sister’s mouth, not a ‘hi’ or ‘how are you?’ he let out a big sigh as she continued. “she’s cute. really cute.”

“i know what you’re trying to do, and the answer is no.” 

“seriously? you haven’t had a girlfriend in what, ever? and you're telling me you’re not even going to try?” her questioning earned her a frown, followed by a scoff. 

“that’s none of your business, tsumiki.” 

his eyes widened when his sister looked out the window, and a smirk appeared on her face. it was obvious she’d taken notice of the way that his window lined right up with yours. 

“hmm.” was all she replied with, and she took a seat on the couch. “how’s gojo?” she asked, changing the subject that she knew megumi wouldn’t budge on. 

“he’s fine. reeling with separation anxiety, but he’s fine.” satoru had a horrible case of empty nest syndrome, wondering what he did wrong for his adult, adopted children to leave him alone in his gigantic apartment. “you should go see him, he misses you.” 

“absolutely not. he’ll try to convince me to move back in with him. he needs a distraction or something.” tsumiki groaned at the idea, even though she had the utmost respect for the man who had taken them both in. 

instead, she traveled to the kitchen to heat the meal she’d brought for her brother. 

the duo sat in silence, snacking on leftovers as the tv drawled on in front of them. it was nice to have his sister there, even if she spent most of their time together probing him with uncomfortable questions. 

a few hours later, the eldest had left him alone in his apartment once again. 

he rose to his feet and made his way to the kitchen, looking over at the mountain of dishes piled into the sink. he turned on the faucet and took a moment to mull over his sister’s questions from earlier. dishware clinked against the metal of the sink as he contemplated her words. 

he supposed she had a point. what was he waiting for? he’d never given anyone the time of day, let alone had them consuming his thoughts when they weren’t around. you had a particular knack for making him nervous, and he didn’t know how to kick his habit of becoming a stuttering mess around you. 

the thought of you alone sent a blush over his cheeks. his large hands reached to turn off the running water. he took a few steps closer to the dining room table, and his eyes darted towards the open window. 

he couldn’t keep his curiosity at bay and slowly pulled open his curtains to see what was happening across the way. 

you were sitting on the countertop, phone pressed to your ear as you swung your bare legs back and forth. you were having quite an animated conversation, he could tell. he watched you roll your eyes, contemplating words that he couldn’t hear. 

you paused for a moment and hopped off the counter to open the fridge. he sucked in a breath when you leaned forward, giving him a perfect view of your ass. 

“holy shit,” he muttered, putting his hands over his eyes before pulling his blinds closed. 

he was in over his head, and he didn’t know how to deal with your growing presence in his mind. it was almost like his brain was his own personal prison, trapped in a cell and forced to watch an endless reel of the precarious situations you’d put him in. 

the next few days were absolute torture, and the summer heat had made his already building frustration so much worse. you spent hours of the day in the bright sunshine, working up a sweat as you tended to the lawn. your choice of attire made him drool from his seat at the kitchen table. against his better judgment, he got more comfortable in his chair as you leaned down to pull weeds from the garden. 

he wasn’t the only person who was stopped in their tracks when you bent over. across the street, an older gentleman was being pulled by his dog as he stood mesmerized by the sight. 

you looked over your shoulder, catching sight of his dark hair through the window. you snickered to yourself, arching your back as you dug further into the dirt with your hands.

he was playing right into your hands. 

you wiped a bead of sweat off your brow, rising to your feet a few moments later. you made sure to lean in megumi’s direction as you reached for the bag of lawn debris, making him regret sitting down in the first place.  

the next day, he had the misfortune of going out to grab the mail. he hadn’t made it very far before he caught sight of you, causing him to flush.

large sunglasses framed your face as you pruned the shrubs in front of your door, and you gave megumi a small wave when you spotted him on his porch. 

“good morning!” you chirped, a large pair of trimmers in hand as you pulled your glasses up to look at him. it wasn’t anywhere near morning, but you could tell that he had just woken up. his hair was still messy from hours of rubbing against the pillow, and you gave him a little smile as you admired his sleepy features. 

“morning.” he choked out in reply. he tried to keep his eyes off you as he wandered to the mailbox, but he was failing in every sense of the word. 

“any plans tonight?” you called out to him with a grin as you watched him attempt to sneak back into the house. 

“going out with some friends. do you have plans?” he didn’t know if he wanted to know the answer to his question, but he proceeded to ask it anyway. he shamefully had your weekend routine damn near memorized, but had yet to figure out where you went after her car door slammed shut. 

“nope, just working. i’ll see you later?” that caused him to raise an eyebrow, followed by a couple lazy nods of the head. 

he was too busy contemplating your words to think of a reply. he didn’t really have the chance to, either. he looked at the time, groaning to himself as he walked back inside. 

it was already pushing three in the afternoon by the time he managed to pull himself out of bed to grab the mail in the first place. 

he was going out in an hour, and the apartment was trashed. his stomach grumbled angrily, and he let out a sigh as he walked towards the fridge. a frown fell over his features as he stared at the bottle of chili sauce accompanied by nobara’s forgotten wine. he found himself fortunate enough to find some chicken in the freezer, but the lack of vegetables was proving to be rather disappointing. 

great. he grumbled to himself as he closed the fridge with a slam. the cabinet didn’t have much either, save for a couple packets of noodles. he really needed to go grocery shopping, but hated the grocery store more than anything in the entire world. 

so instead, he reached for a pan and went to work browning the chicken. he was thankful that tsumiki had brought a collection of seasonings for him after his first week living alone. at least he had something to offset the taste of freezer-burnt poultry. 

after a while of glaring at the pan, he was finally getting somewhere. he reached for a pot, and filled it with water. unfortunately, he’d filled it up just a tad too much. he groaned at the puddle on the floor, and dropped the pot on the burner with a defeated look on his face.

a towel was thrown onto the ground with a huff, and he grimaced at the feeling of cold water hitting the plush fabric of his socks. he was soaking wet from the collar of his shirt down, and he still had the puddle to attend to.  

the chicken wasn’t anywhere near done, and now he had to change to top it all off. he turned down the stove a bit, and shuffled to his room in an attempt to find something to wear to the club later that night. 

when he returned to the pan about twenty minutes later in a new set of clothes, the chicken was still nowhere close to being golden brown. with a roll of the eyes, he abandoned his post for a moment to turn on the television. 

even then, it wasn’t very entertaining for him. a few minutes passed, before his curiosity got the better of him. he could hear the slow rhythm of the song that he knew was your favorite from across the way, and couldn’t keep himself from walking towards the window.  the curtains were pulled aside to reveal you dancing along to the music booming through your apartment. 

your hips swayed in tandem with the music, and he watched curiously as you stretched your arms up. he watched you bend down to touch your toes, and he watched your body relax as you stretched out your sore muscles. 

it had appeared he had gotten too distracted by your preparations before your shift, as he had completely forgotten about his dinner still cooking on the other side of the room. 

his eyes darted toward the stove when the smell of something burning wafted through his nostrils, and he ran towards the pan in an attempt to save his dinner. 

thankfully the chicken was only partially charred, and he pulled it away from the heat just in the nick of time. he let out a sigh of relief, which was interrupted by yet another distraction from outside. 

“fushiguro! you better have your fucking pants on!” his head snapped towards the door at the loud booming of his friend’s voice, and the door swung open dramatically to reveal a grinning yuji. 

“you’re early.” megumi commented, voice flat as he switched the burner the pot was on. the shorter man took a step closer to the counter, and his grin widened when he spotted the food cooking on the stove.

“looks like i made it just in time.” he chuckled, before moving towards the small table across from the kitchen. “is something burning?”

“not anymore,” was the only reply yuji got. 

the noodles didn’t take very long, and soon the pair were sitting across from each other with a hot meal in front of them. 

they fell into a comfortable silence that didn’t end up lasting very long. 

not when yuji was always too observant for his own good. the tv drawled on behind them, though it was almost impossible to watch it even if they wanted to. the glare from the window had blocked out almost the entire picture.

it was one of megumi’s pet peeves, and that was what caused yuji to finally break the silence megumi had been previously enjoying. 

“huh.” the tone in yuji’s voice was curious, and his friend’s head snapped up to find him staring out the window. “your blinds are open.” 

“what?” megumi looked confused, even though he shouldn’t be. his blinds were usually closed, especially on sunny days like this one. it was a small detail to pick up on, but he didn’t want his friend to put the rest of the pieces of the puzzle together. he took a sip of his broth, eyeing yuji down as he awaited his response. 

“nothing.” the reply megumi got was halfhearted, barely hiding a snicker as yuji finished off his bowl of noodles. 

his closest companion had taken a good thing and thoroughly ruined it. the silence was now incredibly discomforting to be in, even for just a minute. megumi hurried to scarf down the rest of his meal, before rising from his seat. 

“nobara’s gonna kick our asses if we’re late.” was his excuse for suddenly rising to his feet, not that his friend was dangerously close to figuring out that he’d been watching you through his window for months. there’s no way it could be that reason. 

“chill, i gotta fix my hair first.” yuji grinned, noticing how desperate megumi was to change the subject. “nobara’s not even gonna be ready by the time we get there.” 

“i don’t understand why you couldn’t do that at home.” the taller man huffed, taking a peek out the window the moment he heard footsteps heading toward the bathroom. 

yuji had promised tonight would be fun. megumi hated clubs, but he had been convinced to go out just once. it seemed that his next-door neighbor was heading out for the night as well, if the tiny dress you were wearing was anything to go by. 

an odd choice of attire to be wearing to work, if he’d say so himself. still, he didn’t think about it too hard as he threw on a black sweater and got ready to leave. 

“i don’t understand why we have to go to nobara’s so early. the club doesn’t even open until like eight.” yuji grumbled, reaching for megumi’s phone charger as he settled into the passenger seat. 

“she said we have to go to the mall first. something about needing an outfit.”

“fuck, and you said yes? we’re gonna get stuck there for the next four hours.” another loud groan met his ears as he pulled out of his apartment complex. 

and they were, indeed, stuck at the mall for nearly four hours. megumi’s car was stuffed to the brim with shopping bags by the time they were done, and they still weren’t even ready to head out for the night. 

a quick pit stop to kugisaki’s was entirely necessary, as protested by the woman herself. the trio shuffled boxes and bags to her apartment, grumbling the entire time as they braved the treacherous walk up the stairs. 

yuji supposed it was only fair to start the party there. he was already raiding her liquor cabinet before he proposed the idea to the rest of his team. 

the words left his lips with a smirk, and he waved around the bottle of cheap booze in his hand to emphasize his point. the same smirk fell over nobara’s features, and she nodded enthusiastically as she reached for two shot glasses. 

megumi found himself wishing he could participate, cursing himself for saying he’d be the designated driver. his mind was plagued with thoughts of you, and a drink would’ve probably been able to help him forget that. 

still, he let the pair have their fun. a small chuckle left his lips as he watched them grimace at the burn of the liquor. nobara gave him a goofy smile, followed by a thumbs up as she ran to her bedroom to change her clothes.

finally, at about eight forty-five, the trio made their way to megumi’s black buick. the sun had already set far into the sky, and megumi let out another sigh as he turned on the engine. 

the car ride down to the bar was filled with loud singing from yuji and irritated grumbles from nobara as she hurried to change the radio station. they struggled to find parking, resulting in them walking through residential streets to get to their destination. he hadn’t expected it to be so busy, but they found themselves weaving through crowds of people to even find a table. 

the music was far too loud for his liking, and pinks and purples shined through his vision as he finally looked up toward the bar. something had caught the attention of countless patrons, who were tripping over each other with credit cards in hand. 

upon closer inspection, he began to understand what everyone was fussing over. the first thing he saw was your tattoo, which he recognized immediately. as his gaze traveled up your long legs, he couldn’t hide the shock written over his features. 

he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. 

in a moment, it felt like you were the only dancer scattered across the stage. 

he sat, frozen in his seat as he watched the men around him foam at the mouth as they scrambled to order shot after shot. hundreds of people filled the room, but his eyes kept falling back on you. dozens of strangers were ogling your figure, watching your tits bounce with every sway of your hips. 

you seemed to be enjoying the attention, basking in the fluorescent lights as you continued to move in rhythmatic circles. you kept moving along to the beat of the music, a sultry smile on your lips as suits and ties bowed at your feet. you had a bottle in hand, heels clicking against the wood of the bar as you danced around glasses with ease. 

the expensive tequila in your hand was merely a prop, but it didn’t keep the patrons around him from ordering round after round in an attempt to impress you. a manicured hand came up to fondle one of your breasts teasingly in rhythm with the words of the song playing. 

his jaw dropped when the light reflected against the metal of your nipple piercings, clearly visible through the thin fabric of your dress. he fought the urge to put his head in his hands, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. 

you were obviously a lot more interesting than he originally thought you were.  

“oh, that’s your neighbor.” nobara confirmed his suspicions, a smirk on her face as she watched you drop your ass down to the floor. “you should go see if she’ll give you a private dance or something.” 

“nobara!” that caught his attention, and his head whipped around to grimace at her. 

“what? i’m just saying. it’s obvious you have a thing for her.” ever the instigator, the red-haired woman was not going to back down. yuji nodded along with his friend’s words, and he looked at the pair disappointed. 

megumi didn't move an inch for your entire set, utterly mystified as he watched you dance around the bar. it felt almost as though the stage was meant just for you, pedestaled above the wide varieties of expensive liquor. 

he only snapped to reality when he watched you leave the stage, and he caught your head of hair turning out the back door. yuji hit his shoulder rather abruptly, encouraging him to do the one thing he didn’t want to do. 

he took a deep breath and followed you outside. he turned the corner into the nearby alleyway and found you hiding between couples pressed against the side of the building. he took a few steps closer, recognizing the outfit he’d watched you leave the house in. 

he realized how little he knew about you when he watched you light up a cigarette, leaning against the wall with a long exhale. you looked over at him then, dark eyeshadow framing your eyes as they flashed with recognition. your cheeks turned pink, and you bit your lip with a roll of your eyes. 

your cover was blown. there was no point in keeping up the innocent act now.

it wasn’t often that you told people about your weekend plans, and that was for good reason. you just hoped he wouldn’t act like many other people have before.  

“hey, megumi.” you started casually, flicking ash onto the concrete. 

“hey. wasn’t expecting to see you here,” was his reply. megumi wasn’t a man of many words anyway, but you had shocked him into almost complete silence. he was struggling to get every other syllable out of his mouth, but he couldn’t deny how curious he was about you. 

“ha, i get that a lot. are you having fun?” you looked almost completely unphased, besides the light dusting of rose dusting your cheeks. 

“you could say that. you look good.” his words caused your dark lips to curl into a small smirk. 

“thank you, you’re not so bad yourself.” you replied to him in a breathy tone. now, you were definitely doing it on purpose. you just couldn’t help yourself when he looked so handsome with blushing cheeks. 

“you think so?” he was looking a little sheepish, barely able to keep his thoughts innocent with you flirting so blatantly. 

“i know so.” your reply sent a flush to his poor, overwhelmed face. he watched you lean down, effortlessly putting out the cigarette on the bottom of your heel as you turned to walk back into the club. 

“enjoy the show.” you mused, brushing his shoulder lightly as you passed him. 

and he did enjoy every moment, relishing every sway of your hips until yuji was begging him to take them home. he hadn’t had a drop of alcohol the entire night, but he felt more dizzy walking out of the doors of the club than he did after drinking half a bottle of cheap liquor. 

nobara was too buzzed to notice the longing in megumi’s eyes as they walked back to the car, but yuji wasn’t. he held back a laugh as he wobbled his way down the sidewalk next to his usually stoic friend. 

traffic wasn’t terrible, thank god. nobara didn’t have enough energy left to fight about music choices, allowing yuji to blast whatever garbage he wanted as they drove down the highway. 

after a quick detour to nobara’s apartment complex, he finally managed to trudge his way towards the warmth of his bed. unfortunately for him, every parking spot around the block was taken. he groaned, pulling into the only available space and turning off his car with a huff. 

he was almost in the clear.

the only thing that stood in his way was a treacherous walk to his front door. 

with yuji only two doors down, it made getting home in one piece a whole lot easier. that however, would not keep yuji from prodding him for information, just like his sister would. they were so similar sometimes that it scared him. he knew the look in his friend’s eyes before the words even left his mouth. 

“you’re into her.” megumi was hit with boundless accusations as they walked through the damp grass, starting with that one. 

“no, i’m not.” he countered, choosing denial as his tactic for the situation. 

“yes, you are. you’ve got a major resting bitch face, and i didn’t see it once. you were staring at her like a doofus the entire night.” now that he was pointing it out, megumi supposed it was true. he’d been less angry recently, more sexually frustrated than anything else.  

“that doesn’t mean shit, yuji.” he bit back, not trying to have this conversation ever. he wasn’t looking to admit anything close to liking you, choosing to ignore the fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about you even now. 

“really? so you’re telling me you don’t enjoy the fact that she’s always around, shoving her cleavage in your face?” yuji had yet another point. this one earned a rather large scowl. 

“that was one time.” 

“i bet if you asked nicely, she’d do it again.” his friend smirked as he reached his doorstep, and the angry expression made its way back to megumi’s features. 

“shut up.” he mumbled, throwing yuji the middle finger as he turned away to head home. 

it was already far too late for his liking, and he retreated to the warmth of his bedroom within moments of opening the front door. he needed to clear his mind of any and all obstacles that would prevent a good night’s sleep, including the movement of your tits that was now burnt into his memory. 

his head hit the pillow, hoping he’d get a shred of sleep before someone managed to ruin it.  

the clock read just after three a.m. by the time he reached for his phone, as he had been tossing and turning in bed for the last three hours. he rose to his feet, scanning the mess he had left in his room before heading to the club. 

he wondered if his friend was still awake. maybe he’d be willing to help him clean up the gigantic mess he left earlier. 

much to his surprise, yuji responded to his text rather quickly. but that still left one glaringly large problem. 

megumi frowned, piling his clothes into a basket as he made his way to the complex’s shared laundry room. he was so frustrated that nothing was helping, and he couldn’t forget about the metal pierced through his neighbor’s tits. he groaned, turning the corner when he heard the loud rumbling of the washing machine. 

he wondered who was up so late on a saturday doing laundry, but he supposed that he couldn’t judge. he nearly fell over when he saw who was sitting on top of the spinning machine. 

he had to be dreaming.

your eyes were pressed closed, soft gasps leaving your mouth as the laundry rumbled underneath you. a dirty novel was long disregarded next to you, and he wondered what you were thinking about. you let out a low whine as you shifted your hips, lips swollen from biting them in an attempt to keep quiet. 

you were having a hard time keeping your balance over the rumbling machine, struggling to keep your moans hushed as you barrelled closer and closer to release. he watched your hands travel underneath your shorts, reaching for your neglected clit.  

he nearly jumped out of his skin when his basket made contact with the wall, and your eyes shot open at the sound. you stared at him, equally horrified and aroused as he stood cemented in the doorway. 

the pair shared a moment of excruciating silence. your lips parted to speak, but the words died in your throat as you took in his shocked expression. 

before you could address the situation, megumi started to feel his pants getting a little tight. he turned on his heel abruptly, cheeks burning as he shuffled his way back to the apartment. 

the phone in his pocket chimed, and he typed out a rushed response to yuji as he swung his front door open. he couldn’t have his best friend seeing him in such an embarrassing state. 

he had tried to forget your lewd expression, but he couldn’t get the tent in his pants to go down no matter how much he tried. 

guilt burned at his insides as he freed himself from the confines of his pants. his length slapped against his torso, practically begging for some attention. 

he didn’t know how to handle what he had just witnessed. carnal need had started to crawl it’s way up into his chest, and his eyes fluttered closed as he tried to get comfortable on his bed. 

megumi hissed as his hand pressed against the head of his dick, which was already hot to the touch and oozing from the tip. he imagined your tongue running across his shaft, plush lips wrapping around him. he began to rock his hips with the movement of his hand, daydreaming about fucking into your warm mouth. he’d fallen victim to his desire, letting small gasps leave his lips with every stroke of his hips. 

he let out a low growl as he heard a knock on the door, interrupting the movement of his hand. he pulled his sweats back up over his hips, still sporting a gigantic erection as he swung the door open. 

“yuji i told you that you need to fuck off for like twenty minutes, i swear to god-“  his words came to an abrupt halt as he realized who was at the door, and you smirked as your eyes scanned him up and down. 

“hey, neighbor. are you going to invite me inside?” you asked, taking notice of the rather blatant tent in his pants. 

“uh… i guess. i’m kind of in the middle of something-” he flushed, trying to save some semblance of decency. his dick throbbed as you leaned towards him, giving him a full view of your cleavage. 

“i can tell.” he cursed inwardly at your words, trying to ignore the gigantic smirk across your face. “do you need some help?” 

“w-what?” he choked out, the tips of his ears burning. he wasn’t expecting you to be so forward.

“there’s no need to be coy, megumi. i’ve seen you watching me through your window.” you snickered and leaned against the doorframe. 

you’ve got to be fucking kidding. he let out a groan. of course you’d seen him, now you were never going to let him live it down. 

“what were you thinking about?” you continued, watching him deflate in front of you. your curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you took a step closer to him as he struggled to get out his reply. 

“nothing.” 

“doesn’t look like nothing.” you countered, raising a brow as you looked him up and down once again. “were you thinking about me?”

“no.” he grumbled, closing his eyes in frustration. he was trying to keep his eyes off of you, but you were making it damn near impossible. the entire situation was your fault, and now you were at his door making it even worse. 

“are you sure about that?” 

he was convinced you were just teasing him. you couldn’t possibly be serious, could you? 

“you’re doing this on purpose.” he choked out, still not looking at you. he was trying to ignore the loud thumping of his heart in his chest with every word that came from your mouth. 

“doing what on purpose?” your question was sweet and sugary, laced in feigned innocence as you continued. his eyes opened, offering you a glare that didn’t appear too genuine. 

“i’m just trying to help.” you took a step closer to him, and he faltered for a moment. 

“you’re serious?” he asked, and his cheeks burned as he looked down at you. 

“why wouldn’t i be?” was your retort, and he let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 

“what are you waiting for, then?” 

you raised a brow at his response, curious as to where the sudden determination had come from. the nervous look on his features gave you pause for a moment, and you supposed you should probably take it easy on him. 

“you’re quite confident all of a sudden, aren’t you?” you mused, lips inching towards his. “i wonder if you’ll be able to keep up.”

he didn’t bother to give you a response, only a huff of annoyance as he brought you in for a harsh kiss. one arm wrapped around his neck and the other trailed down to palm him through the thin fabric of his sweatpants. you felt him let out a hiss against your lips at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his length. 

his tongue explored your mouth as you pulled him towards the couch, and you pushed him down lightly as you leaned over him with a smirk. he let out a groan when you sat down on his lap, and you let out a laugh as you brought his lips back to yours. 

the thin fabric of your shorts rubbed against his hard length as you pulled him closer, and you could feel his breathing pick up pace underneath you. your hips slowly began to grind against his, and your efforts earned you a sharp exhale between his kisses.  

his lips didn’t leave yours until he was out of breath. he huffed against your lips as your hands began to wander underneath the soft fabric of his sweater. 

you pulled away to look at the mess you made of him, content with the dazed look painted across his face. his eyes were too focused on your tits spilling out of your shirt to notice that you were pulling his up and over his head. the black sweater was thrown to the floor in haste, and you brought a kiss to each of his flushed cheeks. 

“you’re so cute.” you mumbled dreamily, almost too quiet for him to hear. he offered you a crinkle of his nose in return for your teasing. 

“am not.” the protest was emphasized by a raise of the brow, and he pulled the neckline of your tank-top down to free your breasts. he let out a groan at the sight, bringing one hand up to squeeze the soft flesh in front of him. 

“sure. whatever you say..” you rolled your eyes at his behavior, letting him fondle your chest curiously. long and delicate fingers began to squeeze and grope at your skin. 

an idea crossed your mind as his hands rubbed against the barbells adorning your nipples. your lips met the skin of his neck, and he shivered at the feeling of your tongue swiping over the soft flesh. soft kisses began to travel lower and lower, causing his eyes to widen. 

his hands left your skin when he felt you pulling away, not expecting for you to drop to your knees in front of him. another soft kiss was pressed to his happy trail as you looked up at him with a teasing smile. a shock of electricity shot through his spine when he felt you pulling down the elastic of his sweatpants. 

his dick sprang free in front of your face, and you took a moment to marvel at the sight in front of you. while average in size, his girth was rather impressive. you could feel yourself salivating as one of your fingers ran along the tip. you brought that same finger to your lips, humming appreciatively at the sight before wrapping your hand around the base. 

if you weren’t so absorbed in your own little world, you would’ve seen the shocked expression spreading over megumi’s flushed features. he felt your hand pass from base to tip a couple times, and he let out a groan. that caught your attention, and you met his stormy blue irises with a pout on your lips. 

“you okay up there, ‘gumi?” you teased, running your hand up and down his shaft gently as your warm breath fanned against his skin. 

“sorry i’ve just.. never done this before.” he replied quietly, trying to level his breathing as he averted his eyes from you. 

“that’s okay, just let me know if it’s too much.” your tone was gentle and kind, much like the first time you two met. his eyes met yours again, confusion written all over his features. 

“what do you- oh…” he gasped out, and a shiver ran down his spine as he felt your lips wrapping around the tip of his dick. he was trying not to keel over, knuckles turning white from his harsh grip on the side of the couch. obscene slurping noises filled his ears, and he looked down to find your eyes staring right back at him. 

he had to avert his eyes to keep himself from cumming right then and there, but his eyes kept falling back to you no matter how much he tried. 

you wanted him to see it all, feel it all. 

he didn’t know if he’d be able to last if you kept it up. a hand fell over his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from looking, but one lick of your tongue along the underside of his dick was enough to have him peeking through his fingers. 

you look so cute with your mouth full, he mused. it was embarrassing how quickly he was coming undone in the wetness of your mouth, and he was trying not to let out a whine as you swallowed down more of his shaft. 

something deep inside of him told him not to let it end here, and he gently tapped your cheeks with a loud and whiny huff. you released your lips with a pop, saliva dripping from your lips as you pulled away. 

“everything okay?” you asked, concern lacing your features as you held onto his thighs. 

“yeah.. just need..” a loud groan reverberated off the walls of his living room as you bit down on the skin of his thigh. 

“just need.. what?” you teased, batting your big doe eyes up at him from your position on the floor. “tell me what you want, ‘gumi.” 

“i want you. i need you.” he replied breathlessly, pulling you in for a sloppy, desperate kiss. he grabbed your hips harshly so he could pull you back onto the couch. 

you could feel his toned chest against yours as he leaned over you. he swallowed hard, contemplating his next words. 

“show me how to make you cum.” the words were more akin to a demand than a plea, but you couldn’t deny his curiosity. his hands reached for your shorts, pulling them to your ankles with ease. “wanna hear you scream.” 

your eyes widened, and you gave him a nod as you reached for one of his hands. you led his fingers down to your panties at an excruciatingly slow pace, and his hand left yours to take matters into his own hands. he pulled them off with a huff, staring into your eyes as he tested the waters. 

he raised a brow at you, reaching to pull your thighs apart as he sat between them. “you’re just teasing me now.” he grumbled at your antics, taking note of your actions from earlier as he leaned down to run his tongue along your slick folds. he lapped up your juices eagerly, passing over your clit repeatedly as he explored between your legs. 

he got more comfortable between your thighs, palming the flesh of your ass tightly and spreading your legs further apart. a soft moan left your lips when his tongue settled on your clit. he urged forward, desperate to have you whining and begging in his hold. 

a tempo was found with relative ease, and he grinned into the flesh of your thighs as you bucked your hips against him. 

a soft hum left his lips in approval when he heard you gasping underneath him. he supposed he had to be doing something right, considering how you were reacting to every swipe of his wet tongue. 

he continued his ministrations, now more confident in his ability to please you. a long finger prodded at your entrance curiously, feeling you dripping with desire from just a few minutes underneath him. 

gasps quickly turned into moans as one of his long digits sank into your plush walls. the sound made him look up to find you flushed from the neck up. 

he wanted to see just how far he could take it. 

his middle finger joined his index, and he developed a slow rhythm that had you shaking within minutes. every positive response was only inticicing him further, and his eyes glazed over in determination as the pads of his fingers passed over your g-spot. 

you had to admit, he was a quick learner. 

the moment that he heard the first pitched “fuck.” leave your mouth, he became determined to hear it again and again. 

he grinned against your clit as he felt your muscles clenching around his fingers. loud moans met his ears as he picked up the pace. he had you seeing stars far too quickly, and he had no intention of letting up until you were begging him to stop. 

the kitten licks to your cunt had become harsh sucking motions, and his tongue swirled around your clit with a certain precision that had your toes curling and your legs shaking. 

you let out a broken cry as you came on his fingers, but he still hadn’t stopped the motion of his tongue. he drank up every whine that left your mouth as you shook with overstimulation. 

he was just teasing you now, relishing in the way your thighs clenched around his head as you gasped and writhed under him. you supposed it was his revenge for the months of teasing, and you found yourself relenting as you pulled his lips away from your abused clit. 

“what? too much for you?” he smirked, and you lowered your eyes at him as you pushed him back against the couch. 

“not even close.” as soon as he heard the tone of your reply, he knew he was in for trouble. his eyes widened as you pulled yourself into his lap, straddling his hips as you leaned in to bring your lips to his. he groaned into the kiss as he felt his length rubbing against the soft skin of your stomach. 

your lips left his for only a moment to test his resolve even further.

“have you had enough yet?” you teased, causing him to wrap his hands around your hips. your lips pulled into a smirk as you pulled yourself up and wrapped one hand around his dick. 

he let out a groan when he felt the tip rubbing against your wet folds, which turned into a whine when his dick made contract with your entrance. shaky fingers dug into the flesh of your ass as you eased down on his length. 

“holy fuck.” he gasped out, earning a smirk from you. he felt you wiggle your hips against him, and he could feel every muscle in his body crying out for release as he finally bottomed out inside of you. 

“what? too much for you?” you found yourself parroting his response from earlier. something darkened in his eyes the moment that the words left your mouth. 

his grip on your ass tightened, and you watched the muscles in his arms strain as he pulled your hips up. you wrapped your hands around his neck as he pushed you back down. a shaky gasp left your mouth as you started to rock your hips in tandem with the movement of his hands. 

manicured nails scraped against the skin of his shoulders with every stroke of his hips. your hands fell to his chest, pushing back against him in an effort to rut yourself in time with his movements. he pressed forward, capturing your lips with his in the midst of your passionate embrace. his kisses began to travel down to your neck, turning into bites over the course of a few minutes. his breath caught in his throat when he felt your walls squeezing him, and he couldn’t help but try to elicit more reactions from you.

you let out a sharp gasp when he started sucking on your skin, leaving bruises growing in his wake. he pulled away a few moments later, taking in every small detail of your blushing face.

your lips were swollen once again, matching the same shade from earlier. this time, he was the reason you were struggling to keep yourself quiet. he couldn’t get enough of it. 

it was growing impossible for him to keep himself composed with your tits bouncing in his face every time you moved your hips. in an effort to keep the moans from spilling from his mouth, his lips wrapped around one of your perky nipples as he rocked against you. his tongue lapped against the metal piercing, shortly followed by a gentle bite. 

his efforts earned him a pitched moan, and he felt the muscles in your thighs twitching as he held onto them tightly. the couch creaked with every harsh thrust, mixing with the moans that were reverberating off the walls of the apartment. he was sure he’d get a noise complaint in the mail the next day, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 

he paused when he felt your hips falter, raising a brow as he watched you struggle to keep up with the movement of his hips. 

“and you were worried that i wouldn’t be able to keep up.” it was almost like megumi was gloating, but you couldn’t be too mad at him. after all, you loved the way his dick was hitting deep inside of you. the movement of his hips came to a halt, causing you to let out a whine as the head of his dick brushed against your g-spot. 

“shut up and fuck me, megumi.” you croaked out, lowering your eyes at him in an effort to get him to do something, anything.  

in an instant, his strong arms were pulling you from his lap. your mouth opened to protest, but the words never got the chance to leave your mouth. all it took was your back hitting the cushion of the couch to hush any complaints from you.  

he smirked at your silence, hiking one of your legs over the side of the couch and holding onto the other by the crook of the knee. he spread you apart once again, and slid himself back inside of you with a long sigh. the new position made your eyes resemble saucers, and you let out a cry as he started moving his hips again. every thrust pressed hard against your g-spot, and you were seeing stars behind your eyelids every time your eyes fell shut. 

“look at me.” he demanded, grabbing onto your chin and pulling it up towards him. your eyes snapped open, meeting his azure ones. he felt you clench again, causing his smirk to turn into a cheshire grin as he picked up the pace of his hips. 

every thrust was hitting so deep inside of you, and you could hear the harsh sound of skin slapping reverberating off the walls. you were so close to the edge – barely holding on as he continued to push himself into the dripping wetness between your legs. 

the muscles in his arm strained once again, and he pushed your knee up further towards your head. his grip on the inside of your knee tightened, signaling that he was just as close to release as you were. his free hand found its way to your clit, and you let out another loud whine.  

that was ultimately your undoing, and all sense of decency went out the window as you scratched into the skin of his back. you brought him in for a harsh kiss, and he let out a loud groan against your lips as you tightened around him. 

you came so hard that you felt dizzy, still holding onto the kiss for a moment longer. the feeling of your insides constricting on him made it almost impossible for him to pull out, and he was so distracted that the thought didn’t even cross his mind. 

well, not until after you felt thick ropes of his cum filling you with warmth. 

“fuck.” you both said at the same time, eyes wide as you shared a moment of realization. you both silently came to the conclusion that it would be a problem for tomorrow, and he pressed a kiss to your cheek as he finally slowed the movement of his hips. 

his grip on your thighs loosened for a moment, and he looked down on you softly. he took a minute to catch his breath, eyes darting over the growing bruises all over your skin. 

“c’mon, the couch is uncomfortable.” he grumbled, lifting you up by the thighs and taking you to his bedroom. you let out a giggle as he carried you towards the bed, and your head hit the pillow with a soft plop. a smile came over your features as you pulled him down with you. his body pressed against yours for a moment, before he moved to settle behind you. 

large, veiny hands made their way around your midsection. he held you close, pressing his back to yours and running soft kisses along your shoulder. you melted into his touch, offering him a pleased hum as you settled into the mattress. 

you looked back at him adoringly, gaze softening even further as his hair tickled your forehead. kisses turned to bites once again, and you let out a small laugh when you felt his hard length pressing against you. 

“sorry.” he grumbled, and you looked at him curiously. you turned around to face him with a soft grin plastered over your cheeks. 

“don’t be sorry. i just think it’s cute.” you replied, pressing a kiss to his temple as you pulled him closer. 

“not cute.” he corrected, and you rolled your eyes. you pulled one of your legs over his hips, giving him a knowing look. he felt his dick rubbing up against your entrance, still dripping with his cum. 

you offered him a gentle kiss as you slid your folds against the tip, before slowly pressing him inside. 

“fuck. i don’t think i’ll ever get tired of that.” he gasped out, holding onto your hips as you slowly began to rock against him. you offered him a shaky laugh in reply to his hushed words. 

the bed began to creak underneath you, and his hips started moving along with yours. it wasn’t long before the bed frame was smacking against the wall, guaranteeing a complaint from the neighbors the next day. 

he didn’t have much concern for it in the moment, too occupied with the way that you were pulsing around him. his large, veiny hands found purchase fondling your tits, squeezing and rubbing the supple flesh with his calloused fingers. 

you weren’t going to last very long if he kept it up like this. especially with one of his hands leaving your tits to run across your clit. 

“fuck, you feel so good.” his deep, gravely admission met your ears as his head fell against your shoulder. 

you squeezed around him again, basking in the meticulous rhythm of his hips. that caused him to bite down on your shoulder as a warning. 

“can’t be doing that.” he huffed against your skin. an unexpected groan left his lips when he felt you clenching him again. “fuck, i’m gonna—” 

one particularly harsh thrust had you coming undone right along with him, and you let out another pitched whine as his fingers continued to circle around your clit. 

you rode out your high together, before his movements finally came to a halt. 

you felt him relaxing into your chest with his face pressed between your breasts. finally worn out and more than content, megumi felt his heartbeat slowing as the smell of your perfume wafted through his nostrils. his eyes began to flutter closed, comforted by the warmth of your skin. 

you were exhausted, but you couldn’t keep the smile off your features as you wrapped your arms around him. your eyes fell shut, listening to the slow drum of his heart as if it was a lullaby meant just for you. 

megumi let out a loud yawn, and opened his eyes. to his disappointment, the space on the bed next to him was empty. he could still smell your perfume wafting through the air. 

a small frown settled over his features as his feet met the cold floor of the hallway, but he froze in his tracks when he saw you making coffee in the kitchen. 

“what’s with the frown? did you think i left without saying goodbye?” you smirked, looking him up and down as you leaned against the kitchen counter. 

you made a fucking mess of him, you could tell. his head of normally messy hair was sticking up in all kinds of places, and it was the worst case of bed-head you’d ever seen. your lips pulled into a smile as your gaze fell down to his neck, admiring the love bites scattered across his clavicle. 

he took a step closer to you, rolling his eyes as he offered his reply. “i was hoping you didn’t. i wasn’t done with you yet.” 

“oh, yeah? can’t get enough?” you snickered and pulled him closer to you. he puffed out his cheeks at your playful words. his cheeks were still flushed, and you loved how responsive he was to your teasing. 

you were enjoying the sight in front of you when the front door opened, revealing a very smug yuji. 

“i fucking knew it!” he yelled, pointing a finger at his friend in an accusatory manner. the taller man frowned, shutting the door in his face before turning back to you with a sheepish smile.

[nylibrty]

could you pls write a stewie x virgin!reader either it being her first time with her or first time w strap and bre being really careful but also hot lol (praise and talking through it yk) thank youuuu

tell me somethin' good, baby ⸝ ⸝ ⸝ b.stewart

「pairing」 breanna stewart x virgin!reader

「summary」 request ^^

「cw」 smut. gentle sex, praise, a lot of yap 😭, white tank top stewie mentioned, stewie being a sweetheart <3

「notes」 hope i did your vision justice anon !

your senses were flooded with breanna and breanna only. you were sat on her lap, your lips intertwined and had been for the past hour. this is usually as far as it ever got, bre knowing you were still a virgin and didn't want to push you into anything.

you had pulled away for a moment, not only to catch your breath but also look at your girlfriend for a moment. you needed this, and you needed it now. you weren't sure how much longer you could ignore the need in your brain and the throbbing between your legs.

"bre, 'm ready" you mumbled, resting your forehead against hers. her hands balled your shirt a little, a nervous look coming across her face at the same time.

"are—are you sure? idontwannaforceyouintoanythingorlikepressureyou" she rambled, almost so quick and stuttery you missed what she said. a small chuckle erupted from your throat.

"shh, yes baby. 'm sure, now make love to me. please." you giggled, a soft blush coming onto your face.

she nodded, and with that flipped you two around effortlessly. you stared up at her in awe, soft wet curls draped her shoulders, her nipples poked through the white fabric of her tank top, and the look of love that filled her eyes. "tell me if its too much, 'kay?" she mumbled against your lips.

you nodded and brought her in closely, returning back to your previous activities. her lips worked against yours like they had countless times before, but this time with a new sense of fervor, like you were her last meal. your hands tangled into those damp curls, enjoying how she reacted when you tugged slightly.

her hand ran down your body, blunt nails taking their time to run down the fabric of your shirt and eventually the waistband of your shorts. she played with the elastic slightly, her fingers slipping under and running across the skin before coming back out. "can i?" she asked, pulling away to look at you once more.

"please breanna," you whimpered. with a nod, she slipped off your panties and shorts in one fluid motion. her eyes darting down, admiring your lower half. she had seen you naked plenty of times, but never in this context.

"you're so beautiful." she grinned, diving right back in to kiss you once more before you even had a chance to respond.

her fingers slipped down once more. instead of reaching a sleek pair of panties, she reached your slick folds this time around. she swallowed a soft moan from you the second she ran a finger through your soaked cunt. "so wet f'me." she grinned, moving down slightly to kiss across your neck.

your arms rested around her neck, keeping her close to you. your legs fell open at the feeling of her thumb run across your clit and a finger tease your entrance. "ill stop whenever, just say the word." she murmured against your neck before gently slipping in one finger, her thumb still circling your clit oh so gently.

it was like something you've never felt before, a sharp gasp fell from your lips and your hips instinctively pushed up into her. "you're taking me so good, baby." she was looking at you now, her blue eyes staring at you so lovingly. the praise spurred you on even further, pushing you to places you didn't even think were possible. now that you knew this feeling, you might never want her to stop.

her thumb applied the tiniest bit more pressure to your clit and you could've sworn you were seeing stars. your whimpers escalated into moans. above you, breannas pants got quicker as well, she was enjoying this just as much as you were.

"so, so, good for me." she mumbled over and over again, along with simple i love yous and your name.

a second finger stretched you open, "fuck! bre!" you moaned, your head pushing back into the plush pillows that had you propped up. a series of pleas fell from your lips, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge.

"cum for me, pretty girl." she whispered into your ear, biting at the lobe.

thats all it took, with a string of expletives' tumbling out of your mouth with no control, you came. and it felt fucking great.

you never wanted this feeling to end, you wanted to live like this forever. breannas lips attached to yours with her fingers knuckle deep inside you.

after what felt like minutes, bre gently pulled out of you. she brought her own fingers up to her lips and licked off the layer of slick that coated them, moaning at the taste.

she straddled your lap gently, cupping your face between her hands. "thank you for this." you mumbled, bringing your own hand up to hers to run your fingers over her knuckles.

"im so happy you trusted me." she smiled, leaning in for another kiss.

[fairiily]

unspoken desire

description: you and wade had been teasing each other for far too long, so you decided to do something about it.

pairing: deadpool x you

contains: teasing, tension, no smut but almost

word count: ~1.2k

an: this is my first time ever posting my writing so pls be nice

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was obvious.

Everyone in the X-Mansion knew Deadpool was into you, even if he refused to admit it. The one time he didn’t blurt out what he felt the moment he felt it. Painstakingly annoying, considering Wade says every thought that crosses his mind.

After too many torturous hangouts filled with endless teasing that neither of you acted on, you decided to do something about it. Something he couldn’t resist.

You and Wade always messed around with each other—not like that, although every part of you wished it was. Whether it was play-fighting, bickering like siblings, or making the most ridiculous jokes, nothing was ever serious between you two. But every time Wade joked about kissing you, teasing you, or even sometimes fucking you, a part of you felt like he wasn’t joking. You had put up with his antics long enough, and you were determined to put an end to it since Wade didn’t have the balls to.

Surprising to everyone, even Deadpool himself, Colossus had convinced Wade to join the X-Men. As always, he was hesitant at first but eventually caved to make Colossus happy. However, his decision wasn’t made entirely with pure intentions. You were the newest member of the X-Men, having taken off your yellow “trainee” top and chucked it in the trash a few days ago. Wade was caught off guard when he saw you, as you hadn’t joined the X-Men on their recent missions involving him. But you may have influenced Wade’s decision. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.

You had always felt his gaze, but pining was only fun for so long. After a long day of missions, you and the X-Men returned to the mansion. Everyone was getting ready for bed, settling into their nightly routines. Your bedroom had a connected bathroom, but you wanted to have some fun tonight. You searched your closet for the tiniest shorts you owned and slipped them on, purposely wearing nothing underneath. Next came your tank top—low-cut and accentuating in all the right places. You then stepped out of your room, butterflies in your stomach from the excitement.

You peeked around the corner to make sure Wade’s door was open, then made your way down the hall. When you reached Wade’s room, you swung around the door frame with your hand, stretching your body away from it.

“Hey, Wade.”

Wade spun around, his eyes going wide as he took in your outfit. For a moment, he looked like he’d been hit with a bus but shortly regained his composure.

“Whoa, Y/N! Is this a new superhero costume? Because it’s totally working for you.” He grinned. “Did you just step out of a fashion magazine or are you trying to distract me?”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking at his over-the-top reaction. “Just wanted to let you know, today was pretty insane.”

Wade wiggled his eyebrows, still struggling to keep his eyes off you. “Oh yeah, the way that guy’s head spun? Classic. I think he may need an exorcist after that—if he survives the migraine.”

“Yeah, it was wild,” you replied, your tone playful. “But hey, I’m about to crash. Got a big day tomorrow.”

Wade dramatically pouted, placing a hand over his heart. “Aww, come on! Don’t leave me hanging. I need someone to save me from my own bad jokes. Plus, I was just getting started with the witty banter!”

"Goodnight, Wade." you said, looking into his eyes.

You walked across the hallway into the bathroom, but deliberately left the door open. Wade made a mental note, realizing you had your own bathroom and had chosen to come to his.

With your hands on the edges of the sink, you leaned over into the mirror, making an effort to arch your back in the process. Wade realized what you were doing, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. The way your clothes hugged your curves—he thought you looked so good, so effortlessly. He shifted on the edge of his bed, and you noticed he was still staring. It was working. But you wanted to see what he was going to do about it, now that you’d made it obvious. You wanted to see how long you could tease him before he gave in.

After his sweatpants grew tighter, he decided he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d won.

You then felt two rough hands on your back before you even realized he had gotten up. His grip was firm but hesitant, like he was testing the waters, making sure this was what you wanted. You caught his reflection in the mirror, his eyes dark with desire but still holding that flicker of uncertainty. For a split second, you felt a rush of power surge through you—this was your game now, and he was playing by your rules.

“Wade,” you murmured, your voice low and inviting as you leaned into his touch, arching your back a little more. “You finally going to stop pretending?”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your skin as his hands slowly slid up your sides, grazing the hem of your tank top. “Y’know, I usually just go straight for it, but something about you makes me wanna savor the moment. What happened to goodnight?”

You could feel his breath on your neck as he spoke, sending shivers down your spine. His hands moved with deliberate slowness, teasing you just as much as you’d teased him.

“I changed my mind. And if you don’t hurry up, I might just have to take matters into my own hands,” you teased, your tone laced with both challenge and promise.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered, his lips brushing against the skin behind your ear. “But first… how about we see just how much of that outfit you’re really wearing for me?”

His fingers dipped beneath the fabric of your tank top, grazing the bare skin underneath, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips. Wade smirked at your reaction, his confidence growing with every little sound you made.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, Y/N,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, unusually serious. “All this time, and you have no idea how much I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.”

His hands roamed lower, finding the waistband of your shorts, his fingers slipping under just enough to make your pulse quicken. You felt him pause, as if waiting for some final sign from you.

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Then take what you want, Wade. I’m right here.”

That was all the permission he needed.

In one swift motion, he spun you around to face him, his hands firmly on your hips as he backed you against the sink. His eyes were locked onto yours, hunger flashed within them.

Before you could say anything, his lips crashed against yours, the kiss hungry and desperate, like he’d been holding back for far too long. You kissed him back just as fiercely, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer.

Wade’s hands began to explore your body, his touch rough and impatient as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating between you, the tension that had been building for so long finally snapping.

As his hands continued to explore, and your kisses grew more heated, you knew that this was just getting started. There was no more pretending, no more teasing. you got him exactly where you wanted. you swiftly sat up from the edge of the counter, taking him to your room.

the door behind you slammed. you didnt realize how much you needed him, and the way he was touching you said he felt the same.

"im so glad i have you all to myself." wade murmured, desire spilling out of his voice.

and in that moment, you wondered if all of his skin was textured.

it was a long night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

anyways thats it thank u for reading! i didnt write the smut part sorry to disappoint but i literally dont know how to LOL!

[wardenparker]

American as Apple Pie

Jack Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+ Word Count: 12k Warnings: Cursing, food/alcohol, meddlesome friends, mention of shooting/guns but the context is carnival games, cheesy flirting, Jack being Jack. Fingering, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex. Summary: Going to a Fourth of July party with your girlfriends turns out to be an unexpected whirlwind. Notes: It wouldn't be a holiday without a little fic to celebrate. Independence Day seemed best acknowledged with a heavy dose of Jack's good natured charm. 🎆🎇💗🤍💙

The Statesman Fourth of July celebration in Louisville, Kentucky is one of the biggest and loudest in the area. It was an excuse to drape everything in red, white and blue, perfect your Uncle Sam costume, and play Lee Greenwood’s ‘Proud to be an American’ on repeat. There is a special whiskey barrel that is opened every year since its founding in 1919. Huge grills are rolled out to cook hamburger and hotdogs by the thousands as it’s an open party for everyone. Ending in a spectacular fireworks show that lights up the sky.

Some friends wanted to go. Girls from the office who were looking for a more festive holiday celebration than watching their siblings' kids play in the pool and playing cornhole while their aunts bitched about grocery prices. Not having anything better to do, you had thrown on the only red, white, and blue clothes you had in your closet and punctuated the look with red lipstick just for fun. Maybe you'll have one too many and flirt with a cowboy. That wouldn't be too bad.

The bolero he normally wears around his neck with the button down and sports coat had been traded for an open collared shirt, a print of U.S flags on them. His normally painted on jeans exchanged for white shorts and cowboy boots changed out with boat shoes. Still, the black Stetson is firmly on his head, although the mustache was still impeccably groomed and no one would mistake him for anything but a cowboy as he drinks from a long neck bottle to beat the mid afternoon heat.

The music filtering through speakers all over the Statesman Distillery property is obviously country, but the actual number of Stetsons in the sea of guests is staggering even to a Louisville resident. It's that time of the year, you suppose, making your way toward one of the many drink carts with your friends as you scope out the crowd.

“Weeeeeellllll, holy shit.” Tequila whistles, twisting his neck as he looks over at the margarita cart, smirking at the choice of drink. “Get a good look at the shorts on those legs.” He nods, making Jack follow his gaze to the group of women who obviously just arrived.

"God bless the USA." Rum pronounces solemnly, only lifting his Stetson from his head to place it over his heart in salute to the group of four ladies in the tiniest shorts he's ever seen that are now getting their drinks.

“Goddamn I love the summer.” Jack whistles, winking at the one in the red top when she looks over at them. “Happy fourth ladies!” He calls out, lifting his beer towards them.

"Happy Fourth!" You call back, raising the frozen margarita you've just been served in their direction as you friends giggle mercilessly around you. The three men who are not bothering to censor their ogling are dressed in some of the worst outfits here. Tiny white booty shorts on one, a stars and stripes Kiss the Cook apron on the tallest, and the third wearing neon red shorts and a muscle tank depicting a bald eagle wearing sunglasses that says You Free Tonight? underneath.

"Rocks Paper Scissors for the tall one?" You friend Madi proposes to the group, eyeing the youngest and buffest of the men like he's the snack she didn't know she was craving.

“No, you can have him.” Tina snorts. “I’ve got my eye on the one with the eagle on his shirt.” She admits, drooling herself at the virile display of man, who can also enjoy themselves.

“Have fun,” you snort, shaking your head and focusing on your drink. “I came here to drink and to line dance very poorly, not to get picked up.”

“Why can’t we have it all?” Madi asks, giggling when the one in the apron motions the group over when no one has looked away.

“I’m not sure white shorts is the guy to break my dry spell,” you mumble to them with an amused grin as the four of you strut over to the men who were watching you. “And you two already called dibs on the others.”

“If you don’t want him, I’ll ride his mustache.” Sandra snorts, smirking slightly at the group of men. “I’m sure my fiancé wouldn’t mind.”

“Sure.” Tina giggles. “We’ll just call Brad up and let him know you’ll be late for dinner because you found a cowboy at a party.”

“He’ll understand.” All of you laugh, knowing that he definitely would not understand. He loved her completely and was lucky enough that she was just as crazy about him. Their wedding is only three months away.

“Ladies.” Kiss the Cook tips his hat gallantly and lets his eyes sweep over every single one of you. “A very happy Independence Day to you beauties.”

All three men clock the ring on the statuesque brunette’s hand and immediately understands that she is off limits. The other two tip their hats as well and Jack grins. “Can we offer you something to eat?”

There is a split second before you look over to fully take in the third man of the group that you’re apparently now hanging out with, and instantly regret the snap judgement made from yards away just a minute or two before. He’s only smaller by comparison, broad shoulders and a strikingly cut jaw accented by the aviator sunglasses he’s wearing and leading down to biceps as thick as his neck and hands that — fuck, if you’d seen his hands beforehand you wouldn’t have said a damn thing, he makes that beer bottle look like a doll accessory. “Ah—We—um, sure,” you manage to blurt out, nodding self-consciously and absolutely aware that your friends are never going to let you live down getting flustered in front of the cowboy.

Madi grins at the way you are suddenly tripping over yourself to accept the offer of a burger. “If we’re gonna eat, maybe we can know who is offering us a plate?” She asks, smiling flirtatiously at the taller man holding the spatula. The three men chuckle. “We go by our work nicknames.” Jack offers, pointing at Rum to start. “Ryan, also known as Rum. Because he can get any party started.” He introduces him with a grin. “Next, we have our ‘kiss the cook’, Luke, who we call Tequila. He thinks he can make clothes come off.” Tequila rolls his eyes and shoves Jack slightly as the older man tips his hat towards you girls. “And I’m Jack, otherwise known as Whiskey.” Tina grins. “Why do they call you that?” She asks, making Jack chuckle. “Because I go down as smooth as the finest whiskey.” He boasts, tipping his aviators down so his eyes find you again and he shoots you a confident wink.

“So you work here then, I assume?” Guys who work for a distillery having boozy nicknames it’s so far off base, but Jack’s declaration that he ‘goes down like the finest whiskey’ has you thinking mustache ride thoughts all over again and if you could do it you might just slap yourself for something so obvious. On the other hand? No man should be able to make a wink look as smooth as he just did.

“Only if you want us to.” Rum smirks at Tina and tips his hat back slightly. “Otherwise we can be whatever you want. Spies, cowboys, hell, maybe all three.” Tequila huffs a cough and slaps Rum on the back. “Are you ladies burger or hot dog kind of women?” He asks, changing the subject.

“I think there’s a rule that you have to have a hot dog on the Fourth of July, isn’t there?” Tina replies, batting her eyelashes pointedly.

“Absolutely.” Tequila agrees. “Now the question is-“ he points the tongs at all of you seriously. “Are you a chili cheese dog person or a peppers and onions person?”

The question sparks a full culinary debate, as Tina insists only mustard is necessary, Sandra and Madi are fans of peppers and onions any way they can get them, and you just shrug over it all because there's no point in trying to be dainty with a hot dog. A chili cheese dog is the only way to go.

Jack chuckles as the girls are chattering, except the one in the red. “You are awful quiet, sugar.” He comments. “Not choosy?”

"Very choosy," you tell him, laughing a little about how involved your friends are getting in this debate with the other two guys. "Chili cheese dog every time. But my friends like to pretend that it's possible to be dainty while eating a hot dog. I'd rather enjoy something delicious."

Jack grins at your answer and points a finger up to tip his hat back on his head. “No, you just gotta jump in and devour it.” He hums, his smirk slightly dirty.

"Whoever put you three in one place today is a menace," you inform him with a deeper, rounder laugh. "But I totally agree. The only way is to jump in."

Jack chuckles, leaning in a little closer to you. “Not true.” He coos. “We were brought together for a good time.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his beer.

It can be both," you concede, getting a whiff of an expensive, musky cologne under the grill and sunscreen smell that hangs all around this booth.

“Well then.” Jack snorts, tapping his bottle against your margarita glass. “To being a menace.” He offers with a smirk.

"Here." A long sip of your drink hides a flustered grin, but you don't mind having run into someone this charming and handsome right off the bat. You and your friends will wander away in due time, and they'll become a fun anecdote for the office, and probably material for the spank bank of each and every member of your group as well.

“So what made you decide to join our little celebration?” Jack asks without any sense of irony despite the bash being massive. There are bounce houses and carnival style game booths set up. Along with all kinds of food and drink.

"Girls' day out." Ordinarily you might feel bad for Sandra, being slightly singled out while the other three of you are being shamelessly flirted with, but she's chatting with Kiss the Cook as well and having a grand time. "When your day is office, home, and back again, sometimes a party is just what you need."

“Oh I understand.” He promises, even if his work is not as traditionally boring all the time, there are plenty of days that the paperwork tedium gets to him.

"Your days are probably a lot more fun than ours." Without knowing that you're reading his thoughts, you just decide to make conversation and enjoy whatever comes from it.

“Some days. Others it’s slower than molasses dripping off a spoon.” He likes the fact that you aren’t just flirting, there’s interesting conversation blooming. “Although I’m enjoying right now.”

"This must be one of the more fun workdays each year." Why wouldn't it be? There are half-dressed women all over the places, and whatever the orientation of these three might be, they're all definitely interested in women. You sip your drink again and find that your head tilts slightly in his direction instinctively. "We're not going to get you in trouble, are we?"

“Nah.” Jack waves away your concern, secretly touched that you would be worried about that. “Well just call this….public relations.” He teases, winking at you again. “How does that sound, sugar?”

"Like you should be a politician," you snort, but honestly you don't mind. It's been a while since you just flirted for the hell of it and it's fun.

Jack wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Sugar, you are breaking my heart.” He groans. “I would never want to be lumped in with those lyin’, thievin’ scumbags.” He shakes his head and puts his beer down to lay his hand over his heart. “I’m a patriot.”

Somehow that only makes you laugh more, and when you meet his eyes again it's with warm cheeks and a bright smile. "My apologies," you hum, tipping your margarita in his direction again like a salute. "We'll stick to drinking and flirting. No filibusters today."

“Now hold on….” Jack leans closer and chuckles. “Depends on what kind of filibuster we are talkin’ about.” He drawls. “Some of them can be a good time.” His eyes slide up and down your body suggestively.

Raising one eyebrow at him, sip your sour-sweet vacations through the bright pink straw and smirk. “You want to have a prolonged speech that stalls all activity about my body? Seems counterintuitive, cowboy.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “I don’t think you understand darlin’.” He leans in even closer. “We ain’t talkin’ during my filibuster, we’re just prolonging the main event.” He explains.

One second your head is tiled and the next second you're clamping your mouth shut on a bitten lip. He's just gone from casually flirting to casually painting a mental image that will last you weeks. "You're pretty sure of yourself, cowboy," you hum when you remember how to speak again.

“Have to be.” He admits, truth more than cockiness in his words. “You don’t have to accept, but….” He smirks. “You could always consider it your patriotic booty.” His pun is horrible and he knows it, but he uses it proudly. With the same confidence he wears his Fourth of July outfit.

You snort before you can stop yourself, shaking your head at him as you wave off the laugh as good natured. "That's awful." The play on 'patriotic duty' is absurd, but somehow he manages to make it circle back to charming in a way that is fairly impressive. From most guys it would just sound cheesy or plain bad.

“It is, isn’t it?” He agrees with a grin. “Really awful.” He reaches for his beer again and finishes it in one long swallow.

"Worst line I've heard in a very long time." Even though you're agreeing, you chuckle and shake your head. Why the hell not? When was the last time you just cut loose and had some fun? Can you even remember? "It's...not a no, though."

“Hmmmm.” He lifts a brow and smirks at you again as he reaches into the cooler next to him for another beer. “Well then, I better make sure that you are fed, sugar.” He tells you. “‘Cause you might be in for a hell of a night.”

"You promise a girl a hell of a lot." But for some reason you don't think he's lying, or even exaggerating that much. Maybe it's wishful thinking, you can't tell, but Jack fixes up your hot dog with flare and hands it over just as you finish your margarita.

He takes your empty glass and chuckles. “Would you like another frosty margarita? Or perhaps the blackberry old fashions that are being made?” He asks, pointing to another stand just a few feet away, featuring the ‘87 single barrel that Jack loves.

"I think I have to have whiskey this time, don't I?" Given his nickname, it would almost seem rude not to. Especially when you've decided to encourage him. At least you've been polite enough not to let your eyes wander down and inspect those tiny little shorts he has on.

“Right away.” Jack gives you a two fingered salute before he spins on his heel and hurries towards the booth to collect you the best blackberry old fashion you’ve ever had.

Sandra scrambles over during the momentary pause, searching your face for anything besides the focused attention you're paying to the cowboy's ass as he walks away. "Are we rescuing or retreating?" She murmurs, hot dog in hand but ready to bounce in a heartbeat if you need it. "Actually?" Glancing up at her, you offer a sideways grin of defeat. "I think I'm gonna hang out a while. Hot-but-cheesy cowboy kinda got to me. I wanna see how this plays out."

“Really?” Her brow shoots up and she grins at you. “Takin’ that mustache for a ride?” She teases. “I’m jealous. He’s got a fantastic one.”

"I'll tell Brad to grow one before the wedding," you tease, barely managing not to snort again with laughter as Jack heads back your way.

“Ladies.” Jack smiles with a charming aplomb as he hands you the old fashion he had made for you, and offers Sandra the one he had gotten for himself.

"Oh, I'm alright." Sandra insists, smiling her thanks but not taking the drinks. "Designated driver. I had my one and now I'm set for the day." That smile flashes over at you, and she squeezes your hip gently but encouragingly. "I think we're going to wander. You want to come?"

It's a clear chance to break away if you have suddenly changed your mind and you want to, but you shake your head and lean over to kiss your friend's cheek. "I'll catch up with you guys later," you tell her, though at present you aren't actually sure if you will or not.

“I’ll keep her entertained.” Jack promises when your friend’s eyes turn towards him and he can read a slight warning in them. “And return her to you when she’s bored with me.” He adds.

“You have our numbers,” Sandra reminds you. “One text and we come running.” She blows you a kiss before stepping away, satisfied that Jack will at least be respectful as well as pretty, and that’s worth its weight in gold.

“You don’t have to stay.” Jack hums. “But I’ll make sure you don’t regret it if you do.”

"Promises, promises," you sing song, but rather than letting the moment get heavy you take a first bite of your hot dog and groan happily.

He chuckles and lets you enjoy the hotdog, admiring the way you save a dollop of mustard before it escapes and takes a sip of his drink. “After you eat, are you wanting to dance or maybe play a few games?”

"Either." Pleased with the idea that he might put a little more work into this than just fucking you and having a nap after, you end up smirking a little before the last bite of your food. "Both?"

“Done.” He agrees easily, holding out a napkin for you like a gentlemen. Other agents have taken over the grills because Tequila and Rum have magically disappeared with your friends. “Games first, let your hotdog settle.”

Gone in mere minutes, you make sure you haven't smeared your mouth with mustard or chili before picking up the drink he brought you and motioning ahead of you toward the rest of the fair. "Lead the way, cowboy."

The first booth is one that all the agents have been warned to throw. It’s the shooting gallery. He grins as he cocks his head to the side. “Whatcha think?”

"I can't say I'm much with a gun. Besides maybe a Super Soaker." The big plushies and toys behind the counter look just as inviting as they're supposed to, though, and you shrug. "But what the hell. Think you can give me a few pointers?"

“Let’s see how you do and maybe I’ll help you win a prize?” Despite the warning, Champ won’t be too mad if he shows off just a little. Especially since all the prizes have been paid for by Statesman already, leaving the game free to play.

"I have a feeling I'm about to embarrass myself for your amusement." Despite that, you laugh and take your place at the booth. The moving targets are fairly standard — bright yellow duck-like figures that do not resemble the actual animals but look more like rubber duckies that will fall over on the track when shot. "Here goes nothing," you decide, figuring that if you get even two you'll be extremely proud of yourself.

Jack uses this to his advantage and presses close behind you, holding your elbow up. “Steady.” He murmurs in your ear.

"Hell of a thing to say to a girl when you're that close," you mumble, but the smirk in your voice is obvious.

“I can always say more.” He teases playfully, nudging your arm up slightly. “Be a good girl and take a deep breath.”

It's almost frustrating how well that works on you, making you inhale sharply and shallowly at the words and completely giving yourself away before you can follow the direction and inhale slowly like he's told you to.

You miss, but it was actually closer than Jack had figured the first shot would be. “Good job!” He praises, reaching for your hips and shifting your core slightly, brining you back against him more. “Try again, sugar.”

Whatever the cologne is he's wearing, it reminds you of a campfire in the middle of a forest and that might be fogging your mind more than helping you concentrate. Again, you inhale deeply and squeeze the triggering, putting far more work into this silly shooting game than you need to but finding that you actually clip one of the targets this time and manage to almost knock it over.

“Almost got it.” Jack hums in approval. “Let’s see you knock that same one down.”

Utter concentration isn't possible with him pressed up against you, but you breathe again and call yourself to order, managing to breathe and aim and drop your elbow and all of those other things in just the right harmony to actually knock over one of the targets on the next try. It's not enough to get you a prize, but it's enough to have you doing a little wiggled dance of celebration that all the effort paid off.

Jack chuckles, happy with your achievement. “Good job, sugar.” He praises. “You did a good job.”

"Not bad for an accountant," you joke, turning a little to beam at him.

“Not too bad at all.” He winks, nodding to the game handler as they set the target back up. “Now I want you to pick out which prize you want.” He tells you, taking the gun from your hand.

"Cocky." You smirk at him but glance back at the booth and consider the options hanging from the top of the booth. Right in front, there is a white teddy bear with blue and red stars wearing a Statesman t-shirt. "How about that one right there?"

Jack hums in approval and looks towards the attendant. “Ten shots in a row.” The kid, who can’t be more than seventeen explains. “Knock all ten down and you win the prize.”

There's no way he'll do it, but you step far enough away to give him room and wave one hand toward the little metal duckies. "Show off for me, cowboy."

Jack settles his hat more firmly on his head and since it’s ten shots, he picks up another gun to have one in each hand. “Oh I will.” He promises as he sends both weapons twirling around his trigger fingers in a smooth gun trick.

Despite literally asking him to show off, your eyes still widen with the trick and you're left half-giggling and half-staring as he knocks down every single target with grace and seemingly no effort at all.

The targets are easy and Jack might have been showing off just a tad by alternating shots with both hands, making sure that you know he’s just as accurate with both hands. The targets are down and he turns towards you with a grin. “Your prize, sugar.” He bows as the stuffed bear is handed to you.

More than a little surprised by the display that was just put on for your benefit, you choke out a laugh, thank the kid running the booth, and positively curtsy to Jack in exchange for the bow. “Alright, I admit it,” you laugh in utter surprise, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek like a fairy tale princess bestowing a token. “I’m very impressed.”

“Good.” Jack smirks slightly and looks at the bear. “I think it’s always important to impress a lady.”

“Consider us deeply impressed indeed,” you joke, holding up the bear beside you like it might have had an opinion in the matter all its own.

Jack smirks slightly. “Do you want to play some more games or dance?”

“I don’t see how we could do any better at the games.” ‘We’ here meaning him — your own performance was dismal but that hardly matters. He’s smiling at you like he wants to make you scream in the best way possible and you want to see if he moves as well on the dance floor if he claims to in bed. “Let’s go dance.”

“Yes ma’am.” Jack takes the hand that is holding your drink and carries it for you. Looping his arm through yours so you can still hold your bear. “We’ll let him watch and learn.” He jokes, motioning to where other stuffed animals are resting while couples cut up the large dance floor.

“For when all the other bears decide to have a hoedown of their own?” That’s about the cutest thing you can think of — aside from him — and you grin at the idea. “I like that. Teddy Bear Hoedown is like a sequel to the Teddy Bear Picnic.”

He chuckles and you go over to the large table, setting down your bear in a particular spot. “He will be safe.” Jack promises you.

“So full of promises today.” The little coo in your voice is teasing, but maybe that’s just how he is? Reassuring and protective is not a bad combination in a man. Not at all.

“My momma always said never make promises you can’t keep.” Even with your drink in your hand after he presses it to you, Jack sweeps you up in his arms to take you out to the dance floor.

“And you always do what your momma tells you to, like a good southern gentleman.” It’s just a guess, but as he twirls you around to settle against him, cradling you in his arms so you can drink and dance while you away with the slower tempo song that’s playing, you just have to grin. “Very smooth,” you admit without a hint of begrudging in the compliment.

“Sugar, all my moves are smooth.” Jack boast, smirking as he gently glides around the floor with you, taking special care not to jostle your drink. The next song will be faster, but right now, the breathless couples are resting slightly with the bluesy sounds of Patsy Cline crooning to them.

“I’m starting to get that.” Not that you mind. Coming to this whole big carnival for the holiday was just for fun after all. But you glance over at Jack after taking the last sip of your drink and find your smile going a little lopsided. It isn’t the booze. He is that handsome.

He hums, his voice a little rusty as he starts to quietly sing along with the song. Only slightly off key as he serenades you with a grin on his face. One that tells you he’s well aware that he’s not the best singer, but he enjoys being a little silly.

Maybe it’s silly. Or maybe it’s human. Maybe it’s because it’s both, you start singing along with him, quietly and just a tad off key. Two silly, awkward, imperfect little people out there on the dance floor swaying in each other’s arms and singing ‘Walkin’ After Midnight’ to each other like a chest moment from a 90s romantic comedy. It’s impossible not to look at his lips at least a few times, both of you grinning when one of you flubs a lyric. And at the end of the song when he twirls you around again to land tight against his chest? The only possible place you can look are his eyes or those lips again, like a magnet pulling you in.

He doesn’t miss the way your eyes drop to his lips, basically asking for him to kiss you. He leans in slightly right before the song changes and is incredibly peppy. A song to line dance to. “Oops.” Jack smirks.

One another day or with another man it might have annoyed or frustrated you to be more or less cockblocked by a deejay. Today? With Jack? Your answer to it all is just to snort in amusement at how pleased with himself he looks and let yourself get all swept up in the dance. It was barely an hour ago that you met him. It does no one any harm to spend a little more time together before things get frisky.

The beat is easy to dance to and despite the fact that you might not know all the steps, Jack does. “Just follow me, sugar.”

The trouble with line dancing is that if you don't know every move you end up looking like an idiot, but you nod and decide to put a little bit more trust in him for the time being. If you were about to kiss the guy, you should at least be able to do that, right? "I'm with you," you promise him, knowing you can keep up.

Jack files into the natural line that forms, partners slightly in front of their men and everyone starts to move together. ‘Heel, toe, dosey doe, come on baby. Let’s boot-scoot.”

Able to pick it up step by step, you follow Jack's lead for movement and watch the couple in front of you the once or twice you get confused, until you're very smoothly and easily moving through the dance with glee. It's such a simple thing but so welcome, and utterly fun to boot.

You are laughing and that is all that matters as Jack grabs your waist to pick you up and spin you around before setting you back down in time with the other couples on the floor. “Having fun?”

“Every second I possibly can,” you answer with a light, bubbling giggle. He’s a strong lead — which is wonderful in a dance partner but gives you ideas about what he could be like in bed. Not to mention how strong he is…

“Good.” Jack is almost ninety-nine percent certain that he is taking you home tonight, but he wants you to enjoy yourself.

"And I hope you are, too?" Glancing back at him as he turns you, you raise one eyebrow at him in question.

“No doubt, sugar.” Jack is a shameless flirt, but oftentimes it’s not leading to more than that. Unless it’s his mission to seduce a target. This- this is just for him and he likes that you are having fun with his corny nature. “Best damn party I’ve been to in forever.” He promises. “Company makes it good.”

“Company is what matters.” And maybe it’s the silliness of it all again, but you throw him a wink before the dance has you turning again. He seems to like a like cheese with his flirting, and frankly that just makes it more fun for you.

The song finishes up and Jack decides that he will twirl you around once more and dip you down low, just to make you giggle. People clap and he grins at you over his aviators. “Another dance, or another drink, sugar?”

“One more dance?” He’s far too much fun like this, with moves even you have to admit he can be proud of, and you’ll be damned if you’re going to give that fun up just yet. Besides which…it might be a bit embarrassing for the guy whose nickname is Whiskey to find out you’re a bit of a lightweight.

He waggles his brows when the song turns to another slow one, meant to press bodies together. “Never turn down a chance to hold a beautiful woman close.” He promises as he tugs you in.

“I don’t believe you do.” It may be a small moment of teasing but the fact that he doesn’t take himself too seriously speaks volumes to you. Relaxed and confident are too things that don’t always compliment each other well — it can come off as pure arrogance whereas he’s cocky in a way that is a bit cheeky and fun. Everything about the man is over the top. “But then,” you hum, winking for good measure. “Neither do I.”

“Really?” Jack’s grin blows into a fully devilish smile and he looks around speculatively. “And which beautiful woman would you choose?” He asks with a chuckle.

For his amusement, you make a show of surveying the room even while you’re pressed tight up against him, and nudge him slightly when you spot a cute girl in the corner being talked at by some other guests she doesn’t seem to be too interested in. “Do you see the cute little redhead over there?” Your own nose points the way to him when you nod. “In the corner? She’s at a table with a blonde, but these two guys keep trying to flirt with her. I think she’s talk rather be flirting with her blonde friend.”

“Good call.” Jack snorts. “That’s Grenadine.” He explains. “She works at Statesman too.” It’s interesting that you seem to have an eye for agents.

“Does everybody get a booze related nickname?” You ask, amused at the idea of it. If you all got accounting nicknames, things would start sounding weird very fast at the office.

“Mixers count.” Jack chuckles. “It makes it easy when there’s twelve John’s working around the place.” He reasons.

"Fair enough, I guess." That does, logistically, make a bit of sense. And frames Statesman as a fairly whimsical place to work in the process. After twirling around the dance floor a little more, you hum softly to yourself and lift your head, raising one eyebrow in question. "Did you always want to work in the booze biz?" He seems silly enough to appreciate the phrasing, and you grin. "Or do you want to be something else when you grow up?"

“Just wanted to raise some hell.” Jack admits with a chuckle. “Was in the Navy for a little bit. Found out I like the freedom of the private world better.”

“Rules.” You huff dramatically, blowing a raspberry to make him laugh. “Who needs ‘em?”

Jack laughs, a full belly laugh of good humor. “Exactly.” He agrees. “Plus the pay is better.”

“There’s that too.” A nod of agreement comes on the end of your own laughter. “Distilleries pay well? I can’t say I’ve ever thought about it.”

“Good enough to buy corny outfits for the Fourth of July picnic.” He jokes, taking his aviators off and turning them around to perch on your nose.

“That’s what your shorts need!” You tease, cackling out loud and pushing his sunglasses a little further up your nose. “Ears of corn! The perfect symbol of Americana.”

Jack laughs again. “I’ll have to see if I can order some for next year.” He hums.

"Perfect." The grin you aim at him is almost blinding. "I guess I'll have to come back and see if you found any."

His smug smirk deepens and he waggles his brows. “Yeah?” He asks. “Maybe I’ll have to model them for you.” He suggests. “Make sure they are cheesy enough. Rum talked me out of my Daisy Dukes of Freedom.”

"Oh my god..." You barely manage not to snort with laughter over that image. "Do I want to know?"

“Silkies.” He explains. “Running shorts in the military are…brief.” He hums with a grin. “I had some American Flag ones but then Rum was complaining my upper thighs were too white to wear them.”

"Your friend's objection was your lack of tan?" That only makes you laugh harder, and by the end of the song you're practically clinging to each other as you share that laughter between you. "I dunno, Jack." With your lips pursed, you correct yourself. "Whiskey." He's sure as hell smooth, so why not just use the nickname? "I think you might have to do a little tanning so you can wear them again."

“Well I left my speedo in Italy.” He chuckles. “So how do you suggest I tan?”

That opens up a whole new line of questioning, but in this moment you just flash him an even bigger grin. "Nude, hopefully."

He pretends to be shocked, mouth opened and he reaches for his chest as if he is clutching pearls. “Why I declare!” He drawls. “That is such a scandalous suggestion.” His lips curl into a smirk. “I love scandal.”

"I had a feeling you might." The song is over, your revolving has stopped, and as the next — much more upbeat — song begins, you tilt your head slightly to the edge of the dance floor. "You wanna go be scandalous, Whiskey?"

“Is that an offer?” He asks, lifting a brow and giving you a chance to change your mind. He loves to flirt and have a good time, but he wants it to be enthusiastic.

Hadn't he caught you staring at his lips maybe fifteen minutes ago? Was it really only just a few dances since then? It seemed like days spent basking in his energy and charm. Ah well. Why the fuck not? The Founding Fathers were all freaks anyway, might as well celebrate their way. "Yes."

Well, sugar…” Jack sweeps his hat off his head and holds it over his heart. “You just made my damn year.” He promises with a wink. “And I guarantee I’ll make yours.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, cowboy.” Something tells you he’s bragging with plenty of proof to back him up, but you still give him a crooked smile as you dig your phone out of your pocket. “I’m going to tell my friends not to wait for me.”

“I’ll go collect Mr. Bear for you while you do that, sugar.” He nods and sets his hat back on his head and moves away so you can text your friends privately.

Sliding open your phone, the group chat you have with your friends is full of photos, videos, and excitement shared between them during the day. You’ve been apart from them longer than you expected but they seem to be having a ball — though Rum and Tequila don’t feature in any of the photos or videos so it seems like you’re the only one who stuck with an interested fella today.

Don’t wait up for me, ladies. You type out, and send along a selfie of you wearing Jack’s aviators with him picking up your prize bear off the table in the background. Gonna save a horse by riding that cowboy.

The answers that come back are swift and all congratulating you. Teasing you about your quick change of mind.

Yeah, yeah. I’ll give you all the gossip tomorrow. You write back, barely smothering a grin and you have to bite your lip to keep it at bay. I’ll send you guys a photo of his place and the address when we get there. If you never see me again, tell the cops it was the cheesy pickup lines that convinced me to go with him.

Jack watches you giggle as you put your phone away and walks back to your side with the bear. “See? Safe and sound.”

"Both of you." And something tight and gnarled in your heart seems to breathe more easily in a way you don't quite understand. It's an excitement you haven't felt in a very long time. "Lead the way," you say, accepting the bear happily when Jack deposits him in your arms.

“Did you ride with your friends, or do you want to follow me?” Jack’s Bronco is close to the party, having been here for hours bringing in coolers and helping to set up. He pauses by it and taps the side. “Give you a ride to your car if you want?”

“We all rode together, so I guess I have to beg a ride with you.” Saying it out loud makes it feel very real, but for some reason you’re not nervous. There is a tingle of anticipation and excitement but no worries.

Jack nods and opens the door to the passenger side for you. “Then let me give you the address of where we are going.”

“Thank you.” For both the door and for his understanding, you offer him a soft smile as you climb into the Bronco. So many men these days take the sensible precautions of women they’ve just met as an insult. It’s nice to not have to skirt the line and simply be upfront with him.

He smirks at you as he whips out his phone and opens it up to air drop you a location. “Nothing but details, sugar.”

“Which is the same thing the girls are gonna say to me tomorrow,” you tease, sitting back in the buttery soft seats as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Then I better make sure you got nothin’ but good things to say.” Jack chuckles.

“I guess you’d better.” And you wink, even though the promise makes you squirm slightly in your seat.

“I don’t live too far.” Jack converses as he drives, wanting to you at ease. “That way I can be in the office easily in an emergency.”

“Like oh no, the whiskey isn’t old enough yet?” You ask, confused as to what kind of emergency a distillery could possibly have.

He chuckles. “Or the storage tanks collapsed and flooded the complex in raw, unbarreled whiskey.” He counters. “Thieves. Corporate spies.” He doesn’t get into the extra security Statesman has, that would be a little much for you to understand.

“Corporate spies. Thieves. You make it sound so…” Searching for the word, you notice he never even gets on a highway to get back to his place. He’s simply driving through a suburb as ramblingly as he pleases, and then turns down a long country road. “So very much like the beginning of a self-discovery novel, where the main character is just a lowly employee who finds out their job is really just a cover for something illegal or magical.” Grinning at him, you turn in the front seat and look at him instead of the drive. “Need an accountant? The place sounds fun.”

“Never know, maybe we could.” He chuckles, knowing he would enjoy seeing you around the office more. Might actually want to sit behind his desk more often if he could expect a view like you.

“Never know,” you agree, but your attention is quickly diverted by the little white-painted farmhouse with its picket fence and big shady trees outside that he pulls up beside. “It’s so cute!” You exclaim, having expected to see him living in something huge or deeply masculine. A house you’d see on Yellowstone or picture Clint Eastwood outside.

“Thanks.” He shoots the house a proud smirk. “My great-grandaddy built the place with his own two hands.”

“I love it even more now.” Madi would point out that you’re a sucker for a family story, and she would be right.

Jack is proud of the restoration and tasteful updates that have been done to the old place, an homage to the past. “Then you’ll love it when I tell you that they are buried up on that hill.” He chuckles, pointing to a little fenced off area around a large magnolia tree.

“Being a sentimental man runs in your family. I do like that.” When he pauses in sliding out of the Bronco to open your door and raises an eyebrow at you, you fluster. “Not that I assume you might be sentimental about me,” you clarify immediately. “Just that I appreciate a man who isn’t afraid to be passionate.”

“Sugar, that is something you’ll get to witness firsthand.” He promises as he climbs out and saunters around the front to help you out.

It’s a beautiful little place he’s got, and when he helps you out of the car you can see the wrap around porch does go all the way around, and that the house has been added on to in back. Maybe the second level was an add-on as well, you can’t quite tell. But it speaks to generations of love and stubbornness to stay here and add to this old place instead of moving or building new, and you like that. Loving and stubborn isn’t a bad combination by any means.

“Do you want a drink?” Jack offers. “Water, Coke?” He doesn’t just want to ply you with alcohol, so he offers other things, even though he is walking towards the bar cart in the corner.

“You can make two of whatever you’re drinking.” Whether that’s alcoholic or not, you have a feeling you’ll be putting your glass aside in favor of paying attention to other things soon enough.

“Hmmmm.” The countertop ice maker is put to use after you tell him this and Jack adds a little flair to his movements as combines orange vodka, pineapple juice and peach schnapps into a shaker and mixes it up before straining the cold alcoholic drink into two glasses and floats some blue raspberry vodka onto the top. “Here you go sugar.” He hands it to you with a wink.

“Do you have friends called Vodka and Schnapps, too?” It’s just a light tease, but he poured and mixed and assembled the drink so deliberately that you found yourself mesmerized by his movements. “Or one with the same name as whatever this drink is?”

“There are colleagues by those names.” He admits with a grin and takes a sip of his drink and groans in approval. “But this one was made just for you.” He hum. “I call this ‘Lick Her Right’.”

“Shit, Jack.” You end up smothering flustered giggles as you have your head at him and try a sip of the fruity sweet cocktail. It’s every bit as delicious as you expected and doesn’t taste a thing like alcohol — which probably means it’s the strongest drink you’ve had all day.

He chuckles at your cute little giggle. “Sweet with just a touch of twang,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you and leaning in to nuzzle his nose against your cheek next to your ear. “Just like the best pussy.” He murmurs in your ear. “Like I’m betting your pussy tastes.”

“Need you to do one thing for me before I let you find out,” you murmur, finding that just as you expected you’ve only had a few sips of the drink before something much more enticing has been presented to you.

“And what’s that, sugar?” Right now, he will offer you the moon. Give you whatever he needs to be able to strip off those tiny shorts of yours and drape your legs over his shoulders for a private Independence Day celebration.

“You’re gonna need to kiss me, cowboy.”

He laughs, tossing his head back and reaching up to take off his hat. “Much obliged to, sugar.” He promises before he swoops in for a kiss, his tongue still cold and fruity from the cocktail as he slides it into your mouth.

He’s playful and enthusiastic, two things you all but demand from a lover, and your arms slide around each other with greedy intensity as the rest of the room goes blank around you.

Jack’s drink is all but forgotten when he sets it on the table and pulls you closer, letting your body press against his as he plunders your mouth and groans in happiness that you accepted his invitation to come back to his place.

The half-wall behind you becomes the perfect thing to lean back against as Jack presses in, holding you as close as he is holding the last shred of decency you’ve got as you plunder each other’s mouths eagerly. You’re damn lucky your glasses didn’t get so thoroughly tossed aside that they fell over and stained his rug, but right now all you care about is chasing that sticky sweet taste from each other’s tongues.

His hands slide under your tiny little tank top, fingers pinching the back of your bra strap and unhooking it with one hand while the other slides under the cup to posses one breast. Keeping his tongue tangled with yours as he moans at the soft fullness of it, the hard nipple against his palm.

It's so smooth you might have barely noticed the movement at all, except his hands are hot and callused and the touch of them on your skin makes you moan into the messy kiss with enthusiasm. Nothing but the perfect heat and heaviness of him can penetrate your mind at this point — and that includes the heaviness growing hard in his own shorts as you both do your best to stay as pressed against the other's body as possible.

Jack presses his cock against your tiny shorts, grinding into you as he paws and plucks at your tit, pulling the most beautiful sounds from your throat as he slides his other hand to your neglected breast to give it the same treatment.

Pressed between Jack and the wall, your own hands wander freely. Mapping his body from broad shoulders down to slim waist, there is no hesitation there when you slide one hand into the back pocket of his shorts and pull him forward, inviting him to grind into you just as much as he likes as he swallows your moans.

There’s nothing wrong with a little over the clothing humping in Jack’s mind. Grinding against you and squeezing your tits as he kisses you is just the warm up for the night, although it feels pretty fucking good as you pull him closer.

The world has gone the most gorgeous shade of blank, narrowing down to just Jack, and when you finally can’t breathe in any more of him and have to break the kiss for air, the matching groans you let out are sweeter than any other sound.

You’re gorgeously giving and soft. Yielding to him. He reluctantly releases one breast and pulls back just a bare two inches to slide his hand between to you pop the button open on your shorts. His hand immediately sliding inside to delve into your panties.

“Fucking—” The rest of the curse, whatever it is, gets swallowed up by your moan as his thick fingers make quick work of finding your slick and swollen clit to draw circles around it that have you seeing double.

You’re wet and nothing is sexier to Jack than a wet pussy on an eager woman. He groans into your mouth. “Already so wet.” He rasps. “Want to see how much wetter you can get.”

“Before I dehydrate?” You huff, growling into a kiss with ferocity and angling your hips to try to get him to slide his fingers inside you. Not that it’s been very long at all since he first kissed you, but you’re on fire with wanting him and have been for hours. “Or before you finally fuck me?”

He chuckles into your mouth and bites at your lower lip. “Both?” He teases, rubbing your clit again before he finally gives you what you want and slowly sinks two fingers into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Shaking as he twists his wrist and presses the heel of his palm against your clit, you’re even more pinned against the wall behind you than you were a second ago. Far from finding it confining, your fingers dig into Jack’s broad shoulders with enthusiasm as you cling to him in that moment.

“That’s it.” He groans, feeling your walls pulse around his fingers and he hums in approval. “You’re little pussy likes my fingers.” He coos. “Why don’t you cum on them for me?”

If you could ever cum on command, it would probably be right now. It would be for the pair of thick fingers curled so perfectly inside your cunt every time he pumps them inside you that your vision whites out a little at the edges. It would be for the man who makes you simultaneously tense and limp with need. As it is, your toes are curling in your sneakers and you're about damn ready to flood his hand any second while the only sound you can make as an incoherent moan.

“Sugar, sugar, sugar.” He groans. “You’re so close.” He continues to finger you, loving how your eyes are rolling back. “Just let go and give it to me.” He begs. “I want to strip you down and eat your pussy, but I can’t until you cum for me.”

The absolute whimper of frustration on your lips and hearing what's coming next mighty really be what does it. What has you moaning his name into the warm evening air and holding onto him so tightly that your fingernails leave neat little half-moon shapes at the base of his skull. When you cum it's full force, with shaking legs and an arching back, and all you can think — when you eventually get your thoughts back after the fireworks subside in all your nerves — is how fucking glad you are that you took a chance on going home with this man.

Jack loves to see a woman cum. Always beautiful and you are no exception. The hollow of your throat is the perfect place to moan his praise, the white shorts he’s wearing becoming damp and showing it as he leaks pre-cum into the material. His fingers are soaked and making the most obscene sounds as he pumps them into your cunt until your entire body sags against the wall and is only held upright by his pinning you there. Then he slows his wrist and ease you to a stop as you pant his name. “Good girl.” Jack rasps against your throat. “Now I want to see what kind of mess your pussy made.”

“You’re gonna have to give me a second,” you huff, giggling under your own breath and a little dizzy. If he can do that with his hand, the rest of him is going to reduce you to a puddle. “Stripping is tricky when my legs are wobbly.”

He chuckles and pulls his hand out of your shorts to grab your thighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of that.” He promises, pulling you up into his arms and guiding your legs around his waist as he pulls away from the wall to carry you through the house to his bedroom.

It only encourages you, which you’re sure was his intention, you steal kisses and swoon at this strength as you carries you down a hallway. By the time he turns into his room you’ve found the spot on the long column of his throat that makes him moan when you suck on it, and the bruise you’ve left there will be sure you remind of you every time he looks in a mirror for at least the next few days.

Jack’s bed is large, inviting and it’s not as heavily masculine as you might expect. The comforter is pillowy when he lays you down and smirks as he pulls back to look at you. “Now it’ll be easy to strip you down and not worry about those legs, except for how they look on my shoulders.” He boasts.

“I think I’m past the point in my dignity where I can dispute that,” you tease, wishing he hadn’t stood up fully because now he’s too far away for you to grab.

Jack unbuttons his shirt and shrugs it off his shoulders. Revealing the shape of his hard cock pressing through the white shorts and he grins down at you. “We will just have to have an undignified time then.”

“Deeply undignified, I hope.” You agree, letting your eyes wander down the length of his body and darken all over again at the sight of what is waiting for you.

“Is there any other kind of sex?” Jack snorts, quickly unbuttoning and stripping down his shorts to groan in relief when his cock bounces free.

If you were going to debate with him, whatever argument you had gets lost on your tongue. He's a mouthwatering sight — veiny, cut, and curved just right so you know you're not only going to have him pulsing against your g-spot later but you're going to be cross-eyed and breathless while he's at it. "Fuck I hope not," you grin, licking your lips. "At least not tonight."

He smirks proudly and kneels on the bed, shuffling closer to reach for your shorts. He drags them over your hips along with your panties while you lift your hips so he can slide them down your legs and toss them on the floor. Eager to spread your thighs and get a good look at that slick pussy.

Sure it was only five minutes ago that your legs were shaking in his living room, but when he very surely moves your ankles to open your legs wide on top of his bed, your fingers drop between your spread legs without hesitation. His eyes on your pussy have you craving touch all over again.

There’s only your shirt left and Jack hates for the material to conceal your tits from his eyes, so he slides his hands up, grabbing the hem of it to pull over your head, unable to resist dipping his head down and lapping at a hard nipple.

It was barely a scrap of a shirt and this is so much better — tits free for his attention and back arching up to meet his mouth just as eagerly as he dips his head. The cool air in his room makes your already hard nipples peak even tighter, but all you can think about is the heat of his mouth and the heaviness against your thigh. Every inch of him feels incredible and he's not even inside you yet.

He lavished attention on one, then the other before he pulls away with a pop and a grin as he starts to slink back down your body. Intentions clear as he scrapes his teeth over the top of your mound and pulls your legs up onto his shoulders to cradle his head.

"Jack..." his name is a whine from your lips as he kisses the insides of his thighs, and one of your hands fists in his hair to tug encouragingly at the short strands.

He chuckles and blows a little air on your pussy to hear you whine again, your hips jerking up to try to meet his mouth. “Now, let’s get down to the business at hand.” He intones seriously. “You’ve got a pretty pussy that is begging to be eaten.” He looks up into your eyes and winks. “And I’m just the cowboy for the job.”

He dives in like a man starved, making you feel like every single woman whose pussy he tried to eat over the years must have denied him otherwise there wouldn't be any reason to be this voracious. That first lap at your slit has you gasping sharply, eyes rolling back in your head and tugging tighter on his hair in needy, silent gratitude. You'll be lucky if you can form any words beyond his name in all this. His name and endless repetitions of 'yes' or 'fuck'. But that's all you need.

Anything that Jack sets out to do, he does with vigor and eating your pussy is no different. His hands are wrapped around your thighs, pulling your hips up to his month as he devours you. Wanting to feel the sting of your hands pulling at his hair while his tongue carves a path through your folds.

He means to overwhelm your senses entirely and he's doing a damn good job, right down to how tightly he manages to hold you in place while he leaves no part of your soaking wet pussy untouched. Maybe at another time you might have fought of wrestled or taken some of the lead, but he's swept you away so entirely today that all of your usual sass is reduced to whimpers and moans under his attention. Probably because the attention of that long tongue of his is well worth submitting to.

He had been right, you do taste delicious. Making him even more ravenous as he explores what makes you whimper and whine his name as his tongue laps at your swollen clit.

Every time your hips twist or roll to beg for a specific kind of friction. he seems to be anticipating it. He reads the waves of your body like it's a second language, intuiting what you need and giving it to you with growls and groans of his own that vibrate through you and make you see wave after wave of stars.

His mustache is coated with your juices, his chin slick with them, and still he continues to devour you. Licking into you and pushing his tongue into your pussy like he is starved for you, his hooked nose pressed against your clit as he groans in pleasure.

It doesn’t matter how long you lay spread out like this. Or how long Jack spends devouring you like you’re his new favorite dessert. The walls could crumble down around you and you would still be begging for more.

Jack can feel your body start to tense, your thighs tightening around his head briefly and then relaxing only to do it again. He holds them loosely, wanting you to squeeze him and he rolls his tongue back up to your clit to lap at it.

The second time you cum for him isn't like being carried away on an ocean wave. Even the arch of your back is like being washed out to sea, and the roaring of your blood in your ears making you feel like you've just crashed on top of a wave in some dramatic engraving. It's like all of your senses are both being hugged tight and being blasted wide open and you're drowning in every sensation but your nerves are tingling with life as you float back down to earth in his bed.

Humming softly, the pads of his thumbs rub your inner thighs, soothing you as your breath starts to slow down. You had screamed loud enough to wake the dead. A feat that has Jack feeling mighty smug as he watches your closed eyes bounce around under your lids.

"Fucking hell," you manage, once you stop panting and have the presence of mind to push up on your elbows to be able to see him more fully.

Smirking up at you, he winks as he unfurls himself from between your thighs to rest on his knees. “How are we doing so far?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. “Feeling patriotic yet? Or should we really make you see fireworks?”

"I think we'd both be missing out if we gave up now." After all, you've barely done a thing for him. And if his cock feels half as good as it looks, you refuse to miss out on that.

“I have to admit, I’m dying to know what you feel like around my cock.” Jack confesses, his hand squeezing his cock and pumping it lightly.

"I think it's time for you to find out." There is a smirk curling in the corner of your mouth as you sit up, and with one hand beckon him closer. "Don't you?"

“Yes ma’am.” He hums. “Do you want to save or horse, or see if I can hold on for eight seconds?” His brow arches in question and he wonders what you will say.

“On your back, Jack.” You grin up at him, already shifting over to switch places. Even if this isn’t where you end up, you want to ride that handsome cowboy for at least a little while.

“Never say I don’t follow a lady’s orders.” Jack drawls as he lays down, tucking one hand behind his head and the other still pumping his cock languidly.

“Not if you know what’s good for you.” That smirk stays in place as you straddle his hips and lift yourself up, braced for your cunt to be so wet from his attention that he slides inside you right up to your throat.

Jack helps, holding his cock up for you line up. “Take your time, sugar.” He coos, watching you with a predatory gaze. “It takes time to make sure you are seated right.”

“Not too long.” A moan escapes your lips as you sink down, but you take him at a slow, steady pace. “I’ve been thinking about this all damn day.”

“And here I thought I couldn’t be the one to break your dry streak.” He teases, having read your lips from the margarita stand with the assistance of his glasses. He had turned off the special features before he put them on your nose earlier.

“Were you spyin’ on me earlier?” The best you can do with him halfway inside you is to raise one eyebrow as if you vaguely disapprove, but it doesn’t hold a single drop of water when you let out a shuddering little gasp and take more.

“I can read lips.” He admits with a grin. “Don’t worry, sugar, I didn’t hold it against you. Just made me want you more.”

"Now I feel like I ought to have made it harder for you," you purr, but the truth is that he'd had you from the first real smile. Not the smirks, not the intrigue of just being handsome in general. The first time Jack genuinely smiled at you, you had felt your heart beat a little faster. Now it's your pussy that's reacting to him, though, and you shift your weight to lean back and give him a long view of your whole body as you start to bounce on his cock. Whatever his reason for being interested in you, it is well worth it.

“Jesus Christ.” Jack hisses, sliding his hands up to your tits again. “You are such a pretty thing, so fucking beautiful.” He groans, admiring the view as you use him.

"View can't be as good as mine." Panting between each word is the only way to get them out, because your mind is so fuzzy all over again from how good he feels that all you can focus on is how well he fills you.

He would have to disagree, but you steal his ability to speak when you roll your hips and squeeze him tight. All he can do is groan and squeeze your tits harshly before sliding his hands down to your hips.

"Hold on, handsome." It doesn't take more than a few movements of your hips to establish a rhythm, and one that you're both thoroughly enjoying. With Jack's fingers curling insistently into your flesh, you pick up the pace and let your eyes slide shut in bliss.

Jack groans your name again and again when you fully seat him inside you. Giving you the encouragement and praise through the panted words.

It's a damn good thing that his bed isn't an antique like his house. Once you get going, with his encouragements and your own seemingly insatiable thirst for this man, it would be a damn shame to sacrifice an heirloom to your shared lust. The sheer power and force of your enthusiasm with his strength makes it feel like you're going to fuck each other into the stratosphere to begin with, there's no reason to lose furniture.

“That’s it, sugar.” Jack slaps your flank in encouragement and moans when you roll your hips down at little harder. “Fuck, you do know how to ride a man, don’t you?” He counts his lucky stars you wanted to come home with him. “Ride me hard.”

He might have been the one to make the joke about lasting the length of the ride, but you have no intention of getting bucked while you're on him. The prominent veins of his cock scrub your walls like they were made for you, bringing deeps moans and shuddering growls of his name from your lips with every bounce and rock of your body on his.

Bracing his feet on the bed, Jack tilts his hips up, changing the angle and he chokes out a sound of approval when you squeal in pleasure. “There it is.”

It's the exact angle you need to have the head of his cock battering against your g-spot with just the right amount of pressure, and right now you're prepared to swear that no one has ever managed to find the spot that perfectly before. Just like his fingers curling against it earlier, your vision whites out as your eyes slide shut again and you could swear this is what being on fire feels like as you cry his name out in that quiet little farmhouse.

When your pace stalls, Jack picks up the slack. Driving up into you while your walls convulse and you shake on top of him. Groaning out your name raspily as he works himself towards that same peak you are currently cresting.

It's so easy to fall forward, bracing yourself on his chest with both hands and letting him take over the pace. Your third orgasm ripples through you so sharply and definitively that you practically scream, but his arms are there to catch you and pin you to his chest while he races toward his own pleasure.

It only takes a few driving thrusts until his holding you tight, locking his arms around you and grinding up into you. Your name is moaned into his ear as he floods your fluttering pussy with his cum. “Fuck sugar.” He groans. “Little pussy is milking my cock like a dream.”

"I'm afraid..." You're both panting, and you rest your forehead on his rising chest for a beat and giggle to yourself. The flow of endorphins is making you feel so light you could fly. "I've been neglecting her. She was hungry."

“Pussy like that needs to be seen to frequently.” Jack chuckles breathlessly and strokes your back as the sweat clinging to your bodies starts to dry and cool. “I’ll be happy to make sure that happens.”

"Oh yeah?" In the bliss of the moment, when you pull back to look him in the eye, it's like you're seeing a completely different side of the needy and addictive man who was pushing you up against a wall a mere hour ago. This Jack is soft at the edges, boyish and gleeful, not to mention beautifully relaxed as he cradles your body against him. "Thinkin' about asking me out, cowboy?"

“Considering it.” He admits before that soft smile curves into more of a smirk. “I think it would be my patriotic booty to keep you satisfied.” It’s the repeat of the joke from earlier, but completely worth it because of how cheesy it is. “What do you say, sugar?” He asks. “Want to make everyday Independence Day?”

"I think it's only right." Stretching slightly, the tip of your nose nearly touches his and you dip your head barely lower to hover above his mouth. A single centimeter of movement and you would be kissing him. "It'd be a damn shame to never ride my new favorite steed again."

“Damn shame.” He agrees. Since you’ve been in his house, the sun has slipped below the horizon and he reaches up to cup your cheek just as the first muted boom of the fireworks from Statesman is heard. “Happy Fourth of July, sugar.” Jack murmurs before he crushes his lips to yours, happy that he had decided to go to the celebration rather than taking a mission. He had never had a better Fourth than this one.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

[heeliopheelia]

"this is not your fault" (jake x reader)

genre: angst, fluff word count: 0.8k requested by nonnie ♡

warnings: crying, mentions of an argument

You check the clock for the nth time this night. 3:32 am. With your throat tight, you turn on your side, somehow unable to find a comfortable enough position on your couch. The guilt has been eating you from the inside for the past two hours.

You're well aware that you're the one who was in the wrong for the whole time. It took you three hours to let go of your pride and stubbornness and finally acknowledge that. All the yelling and mean words you spat on your boyfriend keep running over your mind like a broken record and you have to cover your face with your hands to try and somehow block these thoughts out for even couple minutes.

There are no excuses for your behavior, you know that. No bad day at work, no matter how frustrating, should ever make you snap like that and take all of the increasing tension out on your boyfriend. Jake has always been nothing but patient with you, calmly enduring your mood swings and every tiniest outbursts of yours. Which is why you feel such resentment towards yourself for hurting him this much.

You're facing the backrest of the couch, eyes squeezed tightly as you try to force the tears to stay unshed, so you get really caught off guard when you feel a fluffy blanket draping over your body.

"You're gonna catch a cold, silly," he mumbles quietly, thinking you're asleep.

He carefully tucks the blanket around your shivering body and your heart swells in its size at his kindness. The second that you hear him shuffling away from you, you swing your legs to the side and sit up on the couch, trapping his waist in between your arms.

"Don't go," you let out a whimper, letting all of the tears flow down your cheeks.

And he listens to you. Jake doesn't move an inch, hating to see you suffering so much. He's already used to dealing with your pride, and although he can't say you didn't hurt him today, he hates witnessing you breaking down even more. He can clearly hear the shortness of your breath as you sob quietly, fingers clenching tightly on his tank top.

You stay like that for couple minutes - you clinging onto him with all of your might, face buried in his stomach as his fingers gently comb through your hair. After another moment, he finally loosens your grip on his middle and crouches down in front of you, letting you snuggle into his neck instead.

His lips press to the crown of your head lovingly, hands holding you closely to his chest as your tears soak through his clothing.

"I'm sorry," you mumble incoherently, sniffling between your words. Your breathing comes out sharp and stuttered but Jake's hand still stroking your hair slowly starts to soothe you. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, this is not your fault alone," he says, leaning his chin on your shoulder before placing a kiss on your neck. "I could've been more understanding too."

"No, this one's entirely on me," you manage to say as you clench your hands on the back of his tank top. "And I'm really sorry, Jake. Please forgive me. I'm never gonna let my frustrations out on you, I promise."

With a sigh, he pulls away and cups your face in between his slim fingers. Your tear-stained cheeks glisten in the dark room and Jake wipes them away with the back of his hand, leaning in to kiss your brow bone warmly.

"I forgave you the second I left the room. I came to check up on you cause you haven't come back to bed, love. If I knew you were here wide awake for all this time, I would've come and get you sooner instead of letting you cry in here all by yourself."

"It's what I deserved, Jake. How do you even still put up with me after all this time?" You ask, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek softly. "You're so sweet. Way too good for me."

"Don't say that," he scolds you gently before leaning in and pressing your lips together. His kisses are slow and so full of love that you find yourself on the verge of breaking down again. You can feel his fingers swiping underneath your eyes, getting rid of all the tears that have managed to escape your eyes again. "No more crying, okay? Wanna go to bed now? We should probably get some sleep."

You nod your head, letting him wrap his arms around you and lift you up. He pulls you closely to his chest and pecks your head, muttering a quiet love you in your hair.

As all of the previous guilt and self-loathing slowly starts fading away, you catch yourself falling asleep the second your bodies hit the soft bed, safely tucked in Jake's arms.

permanent taglist: @bambisgirl @arizejkt19 @luvmura @milisabunny @cathy-1997 @venividibitchin

[uc1wa]

18+ minors dni

happy halloweekend! heard you're goin' to a frat party, sweet thing. whose got your eyes?

or… stereotypical slutty boy costumes & which one of your favs is wearing it!

ktober m.list

tags: fem reader, penetrative sex, alcohol, mentions of frats, lap dancing

JAIL INMATE

easy, lazy boy costume but sure enough to get bitches.

he might throw some fake blood dripping down his lip, drawn-on stitches, and a teardrop under his eye with the help of a makeup crayon from the halloween store he got with his friends. and if he’s feeling really slutty, he either bought some tattoo kisses to stick on his collarbone or asked you to use some red lipstick, pointing to the spots he wants you to kiss that leave dramatic color.

he’s unzipping it partially, with no white tank top underneath like some other guys who are wearing the same costume, wanting to show as much skin as possible, without showing too much. convinces you to be a cop, easy excuse to buy handcuffs; for you or him? he doesn't care, as long as they get used by the end of the night.

too many shots, sweaty kisses, and enough grinding that your boy has a full hard-on and he's throwing you on the bed of an empty room. taking the cuffs out of your pocket with a nasty smirk as he crawls towards you.

"i've been a real bad boy, officer."

SUNA, JASON, yuuji, AKI, iwaizumi, OSAMU, MATTSUN, semi, kenma, SAKUSA, geto, INUMAKI, AKAASHI, choso, MEGUMI

PLAYBOY BUNNY

it was you who wanted to be a playboy bunny, the perfect slutty outfit that shows enough skin to still be cute. but once he heard the idea come from you, he was quick to ask you to be hugh hefner, thinking that him dressing up as a bunny would be even funnier.

and of course, once his frat brothers heard the news of that, his buddies joined in, all dressing in skin-tight black latex with bunny ears sticking from their heads. all on either side of you in the silk red robe and sailor hat. he thinks the dynamic change is hot. the way his tall figure looms over you despite the submissive costume he wears.

and, as if to match the piece he sports, he's sure as hell fucking you like a rabbit in heat after he's had his fun. thrusts quick enough to put you in a drunken daze, like the alcohol wasn't enough. pace quick, bruising, and tiring yet the bunny ears remain on his head through it all.

GOJO, dick, HINATA, choso, atsumu, OIKAWA, makki, goshiki, roy

MAGIC MIKE

c'mon, you think he's got chiseled abs for no reason? well, he sure gave a reason for them tonight.

the sluttiest costume you've ever seen, and it's all things he found in his closet--the only thing that was purchased was the oil he rubbed across the ripples of his abdomen; accentuating the muscle that he sure as hell worked for.

topped off with a tie around his neck and low-waisted jeans, he's quick to spot the prettiest girl in the same room as him. quick to place claim on you with hands on your waist and kisses on your neck. he's shameless, and it's almost embarrassing when he and his two other frat brothers are sitting you on a foldable chair in the middle of the living room. giving you a lap dance that consists of grinding against you and pulling your hand to rub down his chest.

roles change when you're in the bedroom, though. he likes the way you hold onto the tie, riding him dumb and pulling him forward by the piece of cloth when his eyes roll to the back of his head.

DICK, ATSUMU, toji, SUKUNA, nanami (forced), oikawa, GOJO, ROY

THE JOKER

oh, this guy's crazy. crazy for you, that is.

what'll it be, sweet? harley quinn or catwoman? you gotta pick one or the other, and it better be the tiniest pair of shorts if you choose the former or a tight latex suit if it's the latter.

hell, it doesn't matter either way. he's covering you all night with his big hands all over your body, sucking embarrassingly dark hickies into your neck. hickies mixed with red smeared on his lips equal the biggest and nastiest mess of splotches all over your skin. and don't bother reminding him you don't want your professors to see on monday... he doesn't give a damn. in fact, he'll give you even more love bites, reminding those nasty old men you're taken for the count.

it's generous that he lasts an hour in the party space, dragging you upstairs and fucking you enough times that the only word you remember by the end of the night is his name, oh, and his makeup is smeared all between your plush thighs.

TOJI, kageyama, GETO, jason, MATTSUN, CHOSO, bokuto, KUROO, SUKUNA, kita, KUNIMI, TENDOU

🏷️: @nmw-am, @cl-0-vr, @loviie-stuff, @mxqdii, @harleycao, @idyllcy, @aviixol, @nightjarwings, @hearttjason , @roysjason , @blursotongz , @zaxlrza

thank you for this kinktober everyone! i still have my toji fic to finish lol, but i thought this would be a fun surprise! happy halloween pretty babies. also thank you for 800!

[eringobragh420]

💜 Pairing: Gunther x f!Reader 💜 Summary: Gunther and his longtime friend finally make their fantasies a reality. 🛑 Warnings: NSFW. Wall sex, semi-public, dirty talk, fingering, super minor blood, cum 18+ 💜 Notes: Dedicated to the Gunther lovers, especially the ones who go into this not liking him and come out wondering wtf they were thinking 🤷‍♀️ 💜 Taglist: If you’d like to be added, please click here! 💜 Requested By: @eboni-napalm Thank you so much for your patience and your awesome idea! Happy Birthday!

She watched on one of many TVs backstage as Damian Priest defended his title against Gunther. Some days she couldn’t believe she and Gunther were in WWE at all, on the main roster no less, but then she saw him in the ring, and she saw exactly what everybody else saw: a superstar. Of course, she’d known how special he was for years beforehand, having come up with him in NXT UK, so it was really no surprise to see him in a match competing for the World Heavyweight Championship. And her idolization had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that she may or may not have had a crush on the man since the very first moment she’d laid eyes on him. It didn’t. Really.

The two gigantic men in the ring, each going pound for pound, exchanged chops, and she couldn’t avoid even the tiniest reaction every time Gunther was on the receiving end. These men, at least some of them, had to be masochists. She was a wrestler, yes, and there was hardly ever a contest that was pain-free, but she never went into it wanting to be hurt. When these men were chopped or suplexed or Pedigree’d, she swore she saw their eyes dazzle, some of them even smiled or laughed. And was she really thinking about whether or not Gunther was a fan of pain while standing amongst dozens of other people watching the same match?

She gasped along with everyone else when Priest rolled Gunther onto his back—I could just ride him right there … I bet he’d forget about losing—and laid over him for the pin. A collective hush fell over the group, however, upon witnessing Finn Bálor’s betrayal, which consequently kept Gunther in the match. Her body was absolutely thrumming during the next sequence, watching with rounded eyes as Priest tried twice to get at Finn before Gunther locked in the chokehold. She was the loudest one cheering when the Ring General was declared the winner, and the new World Heavyweight Champion. Smirking, she shook her head as Gunther snatched the golden title from the ref and held it in the air, and she could tell he was emotional, but he did well hiding it, playing the perfect heel to the perfect end to a kind of perfect night—at least for her, she hadn’t much interest in the Cody versus Solo match. 

She started to say goodbye to those around her, hugging a few, intricate handshakes with others, well wishes to everyone. She gathered her purse and suitcase-on-wheels, turned, and made it only a few steps before pausing. Gunther was exiting Gorilla position, blue Ring General jacket on—he really needs to wear the blue more often—gilded title adorning his waist, and he was headed right for her. How the hell long had it taken her to say goodbye? She looked behind her to see who he might actually be targeting, but everyone had dispersed. When she turned back around, Gunther was only a few feet from her, his eyes rising and falling over her thin tank top, pleated skirt, and Nike sneakers, and her brain was inundated with every memory she had of the Austrian, like she was dying and her entire life was flashing before her eyes. The crush she may or may not have had blossomed within her, growing somehow from the deep, dark, secret place she’d buried it long ago. Entombing these inappropriate and, she assumed, unrequited, feelings for a coworker had allowed her to function like a normal human, and not a lovesick schoolgirl.

“What do you think?” he asked, or shouted, slapping the title against his abs, and she almost, almost, averted her gaze to look, but she caught herself at the very last second. She focused on the blood spatter on his cheek and jaw.

Blood?

There was a sizzling in the ether, a hum almost, like the sound of current zooming through a power line, and she felt it in her very core. She could smell him now, the closer he came, and his scent had to be pheromonal, because her panties were suddenly soaked and her legs felt heavy. Her arms and hands were numb, so it was quite confusing for her to watch her arm rise of its own volition, hand reaching for Gunther, and she screamed for him to move or slap her hand away, but no sound came out and her lips never moved. Her hand kept lifting until it came in contact with a spot of blood on his chiseled jawline, and now she had sensation in her fingertips, but still no control.

“Are you okay?” she asked, absolutely no recollection of planning to say anything at all.

“You’re worried about me,” he said loudly, grinning, boasting his sexy accent. Those goddamn dimples sank into his cheeks, and his smile, even when he was being evil on the microphone, was genuine and happy, and wait just a damn minute …

Her lips pursed. “Congratulations,” she deadpanned, finally in control of her hand, which she pulled from his face. She glanced at the vermillion liquid on her thumb before idly smearing it on her light-colored tank top, treating it like any other unwanted substance. She looked back up at him, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now a blazing inferno and zeroed in on the stain on her shirt just below her breasts. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

She spun on her heels, twirled her suitcase on its wheels, and she started off in the opposite direction. He might have been just teasing, and that was the most likely scenario, but that didn’t make her feel any less embarrassed. She’d shown genuine concern for him, and he’d cracked a joke about her being worried? It didn’t matter that he was correct—he didn’t have to be a dick about it. 

Unfortunately for her, she had no idea where the exit was in this direction, and she couldn’t very well ask someone while on her angry walk-away, so she stuck her chin in the air and continued on, confidently taking a turn down the next hallway. Her pace slowed then. This concourse was dark save for the light from the corridor that T’d at the end. And she didn’t see an exit sign. 

“Shit,” she whispered. 

A barely audible thud sounded behind her, and she spun around, releasing the handle of her suitcase, instantly hoping for an employee or maybe someone who was also lost. He was mostly a silhouette, but she knew exactly who it was—she was familiar with his size and the haircut and even his squared shoulders under the Ring General jacket—but for a new reason. His scent. It was the sour aroma of sweat, the copper tinge of blood, and tiny remnants of whatever body wash he’d used recently. She inhaled as much as she could, inflating her lungs until they nearly burst, packing them full of her new favorite flavor, and she felt a little dizzy. The man was a goddamn vape pen.

She attempted to recover, “I think I made a wrong—” 

Gunther wrapped a long, strong arm around her middle and lifted her in the air with maybe a little too much vigor—she saw the top of his head for the first time in real life before gravity snatched her and yanked her back to earth. Gunther’s arm tightened around her, halting her progress, crushing their chests together, and she intuitively wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt the outline of the World Heavyweight Championship title belt between her legs and underneath the surprisingly soft fabric of the blue jacket. She clutched at the lapels to steady herself upon landing back in his arm—because it had been so fucking easy for him to nearly launch her into space and catch her with only one damn arm.

Their eyes met, and their noses were brushing, and they were passing oxygen back and forth between them. She’d never been this close to him before, not like this, and his scent was much stronger now. Fuck, she’d waited so long for this, but here? Now? His body was firm, muscles dense, and for some reason, this Austrian Adonis was wholly enchanted by her. So yes—here. Now.

“Gunther—” she whispered, having no idea where this sentence would end up.

“You didn’t answer me,” he cut her off. She blinked at him. “I asked you what you think.” Sometimes his THs came out as Fs and it was the most endearing quirk in the world. He nodded at the title, nestled in the comforting embrace of his jacket and her thighs, and they both cast their eyes downward. She swallowed, looking at her skirt, remembered she was wearing a skirt, and also the opulent title that was only a few inches from an aching, soaking pussy.

“I’m happy for you,” she whispered, hands still fisted in his jacket.

“No,” he growled, kicking her suitcase out of his way with a blue boot. Her grip tightened and her thighs clenched as he pressed her against the nearest wall, his free hand cupping the back of her head as a shield. “I’m only gonna ask you … one more time,” he said, his eyes burning a hole through her very soul, and his hand came out from behind her to hold his finger up. “You think I don’t see the way you look at me?” he tilted his head. She gulped down absolutely nothing, and the hallway was so quiet that the action was actually audible. “So no lying,” he advised, eyebrows lifting. His face closed the space between them, and she couldn’t regulate her breathing as it came out in hot puffs of desperation. “What … do you think?”

Boy, was she done thinking. “Well …” she trailed off, fingers releasing the lapels of his jacket so she could flatten her palms on his chest. She licked her lips, massaging the hard planes of his pecs, and she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth. His eyes darted down to watch. “I think you look like a fucking champion,” she murmured. If he wanted to play a game … let’s play a game. Her thighs tightened as she locked her ankles behind him, spine straightening. Her hand slithered up his neck to his incredible jaw where she gently clutched his chin between her forefinger and thumb so she could turn his face slightly away from her, freeing the route to his ear. Smirking, she pressed her lips to his lobe, and his arm still around her middle tensed. “And I think you look like a champion I’d like to fuck,” she purred, puncuating her statement by biting the lobe and sucking it into her searing mouth.

Gunther leaned back, stealing his ear from her, and he then pressed their foreheads together. “”Yeah?” he taunted. She nodded, their noses grazing. “You wanna fuck the champion?”

“For so long,” she sighed, practically clawing at the jacket. She glanced down, their faces mashed together, a memory slapping her in the brain. She opened the garment and raked her nails down his bare chest, over the marks of Damian’s chops, and it wasn’t the hardest she could go, but his groan was primal, and she knew the pressure was just right. “You should know,” she went on, “if you’ve been watching me like you say you have.”

“Oh, I’ve been watching,” Gunther assured her. His hands were under her arms and he pressed her into the wall, locking eyes with her before he released his grip on her. She kept her shoulder blades and arms flat against the wall, back straight, legs nice and tight around Gunther’s waist, and she was perfectly stable without his assistance. He leaned back, and this new position presented him with the chance to leer at her, gaze inspecting every inch of her, and he leisurely began to lift her shirt. His brows rose and his mouth opened when he came to a barely-there built-in bra. “Look at you,” he said. “You don’t even bother, do you?” 

She regarded him with a wicked smirk, half his face a shadow, and she couldn’t fight the urge to roll her hips against him. The title didn’t feel particularly good when pressed to her pussy, but the thought of humping it, covering it with her juices, was something she never thought would turn her on. “Maybe I hoped you would be looking,” she whispered. He slid the bra, which was basically just thin fabric and elastic, torturously slowly up over her breasts where it stayed, and his eyes met hers once more.

“This is what you want?” he asked, though it sounded more like a statement. She nodded, lost in his murky eyes. “Say it,” he commanded, and there was no mistaking that tone.

She gripped his shoulders and pulled herself against him, her newly exposed nipples making contact with his jacket and his smooth chest. “I want you to fuck me, Gunther,” she told him, lips massaging his thin ones. Her eyes passed back and forth between his, and she knew he needed something else, just a little bit more. “Think you can handle that?”

He smashed her between himself and the wall, his lips finally covering hers, and the desperate moans from both their throats would have been embarrassing for them had anyone else heard them. Her hand on the back of his shaved head was an interesting level of eroticism, and he must have agreed, if his tongue in her mouth was any indication. She felt him unstrap the belt, and he returned one arm around her so he could lift her off the front of it, then he dropped it to the floor. Never once did his lips leave hers or even stop moving.

He repositioned her lower on his body this time, throwing his jacket around her legs, and she gasped, grip sliding from his shoulders back to the lapels as he ground his impressive manhood on her soaking panties. His hand slithered along her thigh, finger dipping under the side of the garment, which he then lifted away from her throbbing pussy. Her eyes were slits as his thumb slid along her dripping folds, relentlessly teasing her before it finally sank within and began massaging the slippery nub. His straining cock was still pressed against her, and if he didn’t fuck her now, she knew for sure they’d be caught. People were still passing by the end of the hallway they’d come from. Had anyone seen them enter? Had anyone seen them not leave?

“Please,” she whispered, not sure how long she would survive without his cock inside her.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he mumbled, sucking one of her nipples into his mouth. Her back arched and she slammed her hips into his thumb. “You wanna fuck the champion, you have to beg the champion.”

“Please,” she repeated, and somewhere along the way she’d lost the upper hand. Or … had she ever really had it?

“Please what?” he pressed. “Hmm?” He was on her neck now, all teeth and tongue and lips, and her eyes rolled back. 

“Please fuck me,” she begged, hand cradling his neck. “Please?”

“Fuck,” Gunther whispered. 

There was brief movement, and suddenly, the thick head of his dick poked at her hole, and she cried out. Gunther was quick to cover her mouth with his hand, holding it there as his other hand gripped her hip, supporting her weight and sinking her down onto his cock. She continued to squeal, muffled by his hand, until he was buried to the hilt inside her, and then she was breathing in and out quickly through her nostrils. She rolled her hips, sucking him deeper, and she groaned this time. As he started to slowly fuck her, she reached up to squeeze his meaty forearm, opposite hand fisting in his jacket again. He picked up speed, rocking her body up and down on the wall, and she couldn’t believe any of this was happening. Was she dreaming? That’d be cruel.

“You’re taking me so well,” Gunther praised, and she whined, squirming in his embrace. “This pussy was made for my cock, wasn’t it?” 

She nodded, a stifled yes caged in her throat. She wouldn't argue the point even if she could. Her pussy was full, fuller than it ever had been, wetter, and she felt her orgasm building, but that couldn’t be right because no man had ever made her cum simply by penetration alone. Her entire being was vibrating with the quickness of Gunther’s pumps, still grasping his forearm and jacket, holding on for dear life and that ever elusive orgasm-that-she-wasn’t-responsible-for.

“You’re perfect,” he mumbled into her ear. She almost wilted in his possession, but if her body slacked even a little bit, Gunther’s cock would never again find that spot inside her. 

“Please,” she begged. “Please … I’m gonna cum.”

“All over my cock, dirty girl,” he panted. Had someone else called her a dirty girl, she might have laughed at them, but with Gunther’s accent and his tone and just the fucking breathlessness loaded her orgasm from 28% to 99%. “So your pussy will get even tighter,” he went on, “so you can make the champion cum.”

She screamed, a literal scream, and Gunther squeezed her mouth. She did exactly as she was told, clenching around his dick as she came for the first time by a dick, body shuddering while she rode the waves of ecstasy. She was able to experience most of it before Gunther grunted, pulling out with a nasty pop, and he set her carefully back on her feet.

“Down on your knees, dirty girl,” he said, his hand lifting from her mouth. 

She licked her lips, tasting him, and she slowly descended to her knees, which she had to spread to avoid putting any weight on the belt Gunther had discarded earlier, hands sliding down his chest and abs as she went. He jerked his glistening cock over her face, leering at her, and she grasped his thighs. Every instinct told her to stick her tongue out, and what kind of human would she be if she didn’t follow her instincts? He placed his hand on the top of her head seconds before he launched cum on her tongue and across her face, rope after rope, and it was salty and warm and her new new favorite flavor. She couldn’t read the expression on his face anymore as he used his thumb to slide all the cum from her skin into her mouth. She happily accepted all of it, sucking his thumb and cock clean for good measure. When he finished, he tucked himself back into his trunks and held his hand out. She almost placed her hand in it. Almost. At the last second, she reached between her knees for the belt and held it up for him. His chest puffed out as he accepted it from her, and she let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding when he held his other hand out for her.

“We should do that again,” Gunther said.

She grinned, her cheeks getting hot, and she pulled her top back down. “Call me when you win another championship,” she winked.

[kmartinswife]

kate martin x reader

heyy!

this is my first ever post on tumblr after being on here for 2 years... this is also my first attempt at a one shot/fic so please give me any pointers or critiques!!

———

words - 1050

a bit angstyyy but not really

warnings? just maybe alcohol and kissing.

Two weeks had passed since the end of your undefined relationship with Kate, and it had taken a toll on you. While spending countless hours together, flirting and being more than friends, it suddenly came to an end over some miscommunication. You didn't understand why she flipped out over nothing, and the pure dramatics she showed scared you from trying to reconcile. Both of you decided whatever you had was done and assumed it was over. 

Since both of you play for the Iowa Hawkeyes, you see her every single day. To the best of your knowledge, the rest of the team never caught on to the shared laughs, sneaking around, and secret glances. Your eyes still linger on Kate longer than anyone else, especially when she's laughing it up with Caitlin and Gabbie for what feels like hours. You wished it was you that was making her eyes light up and her smile wide, not Caitlin. 

You had tried to stay upbeat and confident, but it was hard when Kate paid no more than necessary attention to you. All you wanted was to reverse back 14 days and fix your fight. Apologize. Make her listen. Anything to get her back laughing with you and hanging out whenever you didn't have classes or basketball. 

At the 20 day mark, Iowa had come back winners from a home game, and the team decided a karaoke bar was the best idea for celebrating. You had played an amazing game, putting up your best numbers of the season. Kate hadn't even batted an eye. The press conference was a joke to you, reporters congratulating you and asking you how good it felt, but in all honesty you felt like shit over an ex-situationship. 

Hannah had to practically force you into coming to the bar after telling the team you had too much homework to party. This is how you ended up in your tiniest top and best-fitting jeans slouched on the bar alone, watching Kate flirt with a random girl. Jealousy filled you. Could she not do this another time? Why did it have to be when you were watching? 

"You played pretty amazing out there tonight," Gabbie approached you and took a seat, "and it's clear you dressed up a bit more than usual, but you're still sulking in a corner. Tell me what's up. Please?" 

You sighed and turned to look her in the eyes. Her eyes looked soft back at you as you stayed silent. You slowly gazed away and back toward Kate and her new girl. Gabby must've caught on. 

"Caitlin and I know about you two. She wants you back, if you can't tell," Gabby told you, "she was a mess before the game tonight. She's been a mess."

You guys discussed it, and you both were going to keep it a secret, you don't understand why she told multiple people. You finally found your voice, "It doesn't seem like she gives a fuck about me anymore. Look at her. I don't know if I ever made her as happy as that random drunk girl is," you stated.

"Come on, you know she missed you. She regrets walking away like that. Just talk to her, please?" Gabbie pleaded. 

Kate had left the girl and was now standing alone at the bar. She was leaned up against it, staring at Gabbie and you, displaying an unreadable expression. She was wearing dark black jeans, and a tight halter tank. Kate's hair was in a low bun, with chunks pulled out to frame her face. She looked hot. No wonder that girl flirted with her, Kate was astonishing tonight. 

"Gabbie, she's ignored me for the past few weeks. What do I even say to her?" You asked, nervous because of Gabbie's pressure. 

"Tell her how you feel. I am one hundred percent sure she will open up to you. I hate seeing you both like this," Gabbie replied. 

"Okay," you replied, and Gabbie gave your back a quick tap before turning away to play a drinking game with most of your teammates. 

You sat with your thoughts for a moment. Of course you forgave her, she was Kate after all, and it was really just a heated moment. Neither of you made a move to sit beside the other. There was a good chunk of room separating the pair of you, far enough you could hardly see her in your peripheral vision. You didn't believe you had the confidence to face her right now. 

Busy in your thoughts, you didn't realize Kate had plunked herself down right beside you. Neither of you looked at each other, rather choosing to remain cold and stare directly forward. She nested a rum and coke in her left hand, slowly pushing it around, revealing her rings decorating her fingers. The rings you used to love so dearly. 

“I should have stayed,” she started, “I’m sorry.”

You sat with it for a moment. Not daring to look at her. You knew you forgave her, so why was it so hard to get the words out?

“I really disliked not being listened to, Kate. It really hurt,” you said. You felt mature, putting your feelings out for show, “I want to understand you, that's all I ever wanted. But I cannot understand why you stormed out.” 

She turned to you, “In the moment, I was upset. I've run it through my head hundreds of times. I was unsure of what to do, so I left. I don't think I was ready to have a relationship-level fight with you. I just didn't want to hurt us. I want us back to normal — actually, I want more than normal with you, I don't want us to be a secret.”

You huffed and took a sip of your drink, “I understand. Thank you for apologizing,” you replied and turned toward her, looking into her caring blue eyes, “oh my goodness, I have missed you.” 

You leaned in for a hug and Kate accepted gratefully. You both missed each other so much. The embrace lasted as you were reminded of her simple, yet perfect, perfume, and the warmth of her skin. God did you miss her.

“You played so well tonight, it was amazing. You're amazing,” she told you as you leaned out of her embrace. 

A wide smile grew onto your features and you knew you were back on track, “Want to get out of here?”

[koishiro]

# - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 📍

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : after meeting megumi’s dad, you’ll experience a night at the lake you’ll never forget

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : dilf!toji x non-virgin!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 : short smut with the tiniest plot ever

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 : cumming inside (readers on bc), oral (male receiving), cheating (toji’s married)

=͟͟͞͞ ⌧ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐋 : this is in a different universe where toji isn’t a complete dick to megumi and is a responsible parent (shocking I know) but still doesn’t completely get along with megs

Part 1 | 2 | 3

masterlist | jjk masterlist | anon masterlist

He was the first guy to ever get his cock to that place in the back of my mouth where it can slip into my throat.

It was an exhilarating discovery, learning there's a whole new thing out there to try and do. I was surprised no one had tried this with me before, from what I can gather after the fact it seems very popular with men, but they're too intimidated to try it in real life, or at least initiate it.

My friend, Nobara, had a lake house (which was really open to anyone, giving access to fishermen and, like us, a spot for hookups) about an hour away from our school. We'd go there a few times through the years with our group of friends which usually revolved around myself, Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and whatever guys we were dating/crushing on at that time and spend the weekend playing drinking games and daring each other to go skinny dipping. It was every students dream.

I'd met Megumi’s dad a few times since I'd known him. I met him the same day I met ‘Gumi, walking past his dorm I saw his dad lugging heavy furniture into his dorm, sweaty and attractive — in a rugged, masculine way. I had found out later that his name was Toji.

"Has anyone ever told you your dad is really hot?" I asked Megumi when we were both sat crossed-legged on his bed that night, figuring a little salacious question asking would bond us, "Ha ha, are you one of those girls? I don't get the whole "hot dad" thing. They're just old.”

Figuring I had hit a sore spot, It was the last conversation we had about him, but it definitely wasn't the last time I thought about him. I always made sure to dress my best when I knew he was stopping by. Little dresses only a freshman would wear, low cut tank tops and once — when I was especially bored — a sheer white t-shirt with no bra underneath because, "whoops" I had just rolled out of bed.

It was a fun game to play but I didn't think he ever noticed, or at least he never really acknowledged me until one of those debaucherous weekends when ‘Gumi and his dad got their messages crossed and we all ended up at the lake house together. At first it was uncomfortable when we arrived and saw the trucks, Toji was there accompanied by some other men. They had planned a weekend for drinking. But, Toji gave us a wink and told us to stay on the lower level and he'd stay out of our way. Everyone felt relieved and told ‘Gumi how lucky he was to have a "cool" dad. But I felt something else when Toji winked at us.

That night, after many, many drinks I found myself wandering out to the dock. Everyone else had passed out, but I was wide awake. I saw Toji approaching me from the windy path down the hill from the cabin, two bottled beers in one hand. He handed one to me wordlessly, searching my eyes for something — the reason I was awake and alone maybe.

We stood there silently until he stepped forward and brushed my hair off my face, "You're a beautiful girl, (name), don't think that goes unnoticed" I blushed, could he tell I was harboring a crush on him? Did he notice the way I jerked slightly at his touch, nervous about my body's powerful response to it?

"Thanks Toji," I said, taking a swig of my beer and looking at the moonlight reflecting over the waves. When I dared to make eye contact with him again I realized he hadn't moved, he was still watching me intently. Did this mean — before I could finish my thought, he was on me, one hand placed very firmly on my lower back the other in my hair as he kissed me. His tongue was in my mouth before I knew what was happening, tracing mine. I had the urge to wrap my legs around him, but there was nowhere to balance on this dock.

"Come up to my bedroom" It was a request, but it was also a statement, he was sure of my answer.

I giggled when we crossed the threshold and closed the door behind us. It wasn't just that when he grinned and you could see the wrinkles around his eyes, it wasn't just the physical attraction. It was his demeanor, it was that he was a real live man, not a flimsy college boy. This was going to be a different kind of hook-up.

"You're married," I reminded him, not particularly pleased about remembering this detail myself.

"I can keep a secret," he said, closing his mouth on mine again, and backing us to the bed.

He removed all my clothing fairly quickly and laid on top of me, fully clothed. The rough textures rubbing against my bare skin felt incredible. "I’ve wanted this for so long," he rasped out. "I've waited for a very long time”

I wanted to prove that I was worth it, all this risk. So I reached up and felt him through his pants, staring longingly into his eyes. He pulled his shirt over his head as I unbuckled, unzipped, and released a very healthy looking cock.

I slid off the bed and onto the floor to get a better angle and he stood over me, gathering my hair behind my head as I started blowing him. I looked up at him and was rewarded with a face that was most definitely in ecstasy as I took him in my mouth.

He held my head down on his cock while I took him in deeply. This was a move widely hated by every woman I knew, but it was usually performed by dumb frat-type boys. But Toji was no boy, he knew what he was doing, he was looking out for me and making the experience short — just long enough to add a bit of excitement. When he pulled out of me he gave me his all too cocky grin and leaned down to kiss me, “I knew you'd be good at this”

He pulled me up and walked me over to a dresser placed underneath a large window. I could still see the moonlight on the lake as he bent me over it. Was it really just a few moments ago we were nearly strangers on that dock together? I was brought back to reality by Toji spreading my legs further apart and pushing my upper back down until my bare breasts were pressed against its cool surface and I felt him enter me.

"Oh my god..." I couldn’t help but moan as he thrusted into me. He shushed me by placing his hand over my mouth for a moment as he picked up speed. My moan was apparently too loud but he was willing to risk the loud sound it made as he slapped my ass over and over, groaning and filling me with his cock. I couldn't believe how turned on this was making me. I was no virgin but I'd never experienced sex like this — it wasn't awkward or embarrassing or rushed. I was very aware that I was getting fucked by a Man, not "fooling around" with a boy.

"Are you on birth control?" He asked and when I answered yes he cooed, "good girl, my good girl" The sound of that phrase coming out of his mouth sent me over the edge and I felt myself spasming around his cock as I released myself into my orgasm, even enjoying the sensation of a bit of extra liquid rolling down my thigh.

He was still thrusting into me rhythmically, alternating between kneading my breasts and grabbing — and slapping — my ass. I hadn't had sex last this long before and I loved being able to savor the feeling. "I'm getting close," he groaned and I tensed my body up, holding my place more firmly so that he could get deeper inside me as he unloaded his semen into me.

"You're so good at this, but I can tell you're just a beginner," He began as we laid on his bed to rest. I laughed, it was true. I had this fantasy about being a girl who gave amazing head and being really good at all the sex stuff, like some kind of femme fatale men couldn't resist. "I can sense you want to learn though” I nodded in agreement. I could play out this crush and learn what would drive my next actual boyfriend wild — who wouldn't want to kill those two birds with one stone?

And so, I began a year-long affair with Toji. We'd sneak away for a weekend when I said I was visiting my parents and meet at the lake house for lessons — how to stimulate differently for a long or a slow blow job, which positions let him get in the deepest while still providing some kind of external stimulation for me, how to prepare for and receive anal, how to lie with my head falling off the edge of the bed and allow him to push his cock into my throat (without choking). Occasionally I just gave him head while he drove me around, careful not to drive anywhere too well-lit or populated.

Now, how was I to tell Megumi?

—

Part 1 | 2 | 3