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endlessthxxghts · 1 year

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What You Need

no outbreak!neighbor!joel miller x afab!reader || W/C: ≈6.3k

Summary: You come home from a horribly stressful day at University to everything in your family home a complete mess only for you to take care of. Joel helps you and gives you exactly what you need.

Warnings: SUUUPER self indulgent (sorry guys - it makes for a good plot tho, so i’m not all that sorry <3). no use of “y/n”, age gap (22/42), LATINO JOEL MILLER (idc what anyone says, he needs a warning), established relationship, no physical descriptions of reader, pet names (darlin’, sweet girl, pretty girl, princess, etc.), reader “takes care of everyone but who takes care of her” plot, more porn than plot lol, [SMUT 18+ MDNI] daddy kink, sir kink, heavy on the D/s dynamic (reader falls into subspace), cockwarming, unprotected piv (don’t be like these 2 idiots), breeding kink, cum eating, creampie, finger fucking, finger sucking (briefly), choking, hair pulling, brief thoughts about anal, overstimulation/multiple orgasms, hickeys/marking kink, squirting!, toy use, fluffy ending… i think that’s it?? (dear lord pls forgive me, for i have sinned) if i missed anything, lmk pls!

Quick lil author’s note (see bottom for extended a/n): In all honesty, I wanna dedicate this (nasty) little one shot to @javierpena-inatacvest because if it wasn’t for our interactions as of late plus reading your “It’s Never Too Late” fic, I never would’ve said fuck it and just start writing with the intention of potentially showing it to the world. Thank you for inspiring me. You’re amazing & I literally love u so so much. You deserve phenomenal head all the love in the world for everything you do <3.

MAIN MASTERLIST || ONESHOT COLLECTION

It was a long day at university today, as per usual, but something about today completely drained you.

You went to bed past midnight last night because you were busy finishing up a paper, only to get up at 7am the next morning to spend the next 13 hours juggling between classes, assignments, and studying in your “free” time. By the time you were ready to head back home, you were on your very last thread, begging to snap. You also completely spaced on nourishing your body today, the only thing running through it being water and coffee — lots of coffee.

That’s not even the worst part. The worst part is that the minute you entered your family home, the entire house was an absolute mess, your pets weren’t given their food yet, and no dinner was made. And just like every other day since you grew into an acceptable height to reach the kitchen stove, you took care of it. All of it.

You were so grateful to your family for allowing you to stay at home during your undergraduate years. It makes your in-state tuition even cheaper, and you get the comfort of your own bed. You knew not many people could rely on their parents and family like this, so you don’t want to sound selfish when you think about how you really wish you had your own place right about now.

It’s been an hour and a half since you've been home, and you’re barely finishing up getting the food for your dogs when your phone dings in your back pocket.

Didn’t text me when you got home, baby. Everything okay?

It was from Joel. The neighbor directly across from you, and a quickly growing family friend of yours. Your heart both saddens at the fact that you forgot your unspoken ritual, but it swells at the way he can read you.

It all began at a small family party last year. You were 21 at the time, and for some reason you could not take your eyes off of your neighbor — who was 20 years your senior. It was always just shared glances or you bringing baked goods from your stress-baking endeavors, but at that party, there was a good period of time where your entire family went outside to the bonfire in the backyard to drink until their hearts gave out, leaving you with the dishes and a trashed house to clean. Joel noticed this, how much they relied on you. Whether it was coming over for a beer with your brothers or your father, or to fix an appliance for your older sister, they always walked all over you — when you did absolutely everything for them. So, he took matters into his own hands and went inside to help you clean up.

You insisted he didn’t need to, but you knew he wouldn’t let up. So, there, you two worked, harmoniously, straightening up your home in half the time it would normally take you by yourself. The second you completed the last task, you reached for the remote and plopped yourself on the couch, half expecting Joel to go back outside with your family. Except, he plopped himself on the couch right next to you with the sweetest smile you’ve ever seen, “What are we watchin’, darlin’?”

“You know you could’ve stayed outside with everyone else, Miller,” you say as you turn your body to him with an eyebrow quirked up. He matches your expression, “Well, where’s the fun in that?”

You break into a breathy little giggle, satisfied with his comeback, and you turn on the TV. With your family completely occupied outside, it was easy for either of you to make a move. And although Joel had been planning to for the last few months before this party, you took matters into your own hands and lifted his arm closest to you, tucked yourself into his side and pulled his arm back around your body. He looked down at you, smirking at your boldness while your eyes remained fixed on the movie before you.

The next few hours of the night were filled with secret caresses and stolen kisses, and you have never felt more loved and appreciated in your life. From then on, you’ve been absolutely smitten with him, and he with you.

Instead of replying, you dial him instead. Not even a third ring goes by before he answers, “Baby.”

“Oh my god, hi, baby, I’m so sorry. I completely spaced. The minute I got home, the house was a mess, the dogs weren’t fed yet, dinner wasn’t even cooked, and I-”

“Mi amor,” he says with a deep breath, implicitly telling you to take one, “it’s okay, baby. I don’t wanna hear sorry from you. I’m sorry everythin’ is a mess, baby. Can I help? Need me to come over?”

Your rapid heart rate immediately starts to slow at how calming, ready and willing he is to give you anything you need. Your family would go absolutely insane if Joel just showed up right now with the sole intention of helping you take care of the home and yourself, but you don’t mention that. “No, baby, I promise I’m okay. I just need to relax. I need-” you pause for a moment to take another breath because you feel your body going panicky again. “I need…honestly, I just need you.”

After the shitty day you’ve had today, having to take control of every single thing, honestly all you really want, and need, right now is for your control to be taken away. You don’t want to think, you don’t want to decide, and you don’t even want to figure out your dinner even though you haven’t eaten all day.

He pauses for a moment, hearing the slight whine at your last statement. And just like that, Joel is at your rescue. “You need me, huh, babygirl?”

“Mhm, please.”

“Cross the street, darlin’, right now,” and he hangs up the phone.

You bolt out of your seat, and sprint straight to the front door, quickly locking it. You think to say something on the Ring camera, letting your family know you’ll be back, but you know they won’t even think twice at your absence. You already cleaned the house and took care of the animals they begged for but don’t care for — why else would they look for you?

Just in case they do check the cameras, however, you immediately veer to the left side of your driveway into the blind spots of your front door.

Within seconds, you’re at his door about to knock, but he’s already opening the door, whispering a soft hi followed by your name, and pulling you into a tight embrace. He pulls you away for a second, assessing your face, assessing your needs. He sees your brows pulled together, eyes glossed over, and a pout beginning to form. You don’t need soft and comforting. You need stern, dominating control. You need nothing but pure bliss, and he’s going to give that to you. But first:

“Safe words. Repeat em’.”

“Red for hard stop, yellow if I’m starting to get uncomfortable, and green to keep going.”

“That’s my girl,” he says and finally pulls you in for that rough, all-consuming kiss you’ve been craving. It’s a battle of teeth and tongue, and obviously he wins. His hands are roughly sliding down to the underside of your asscheeks, tightly pulling you into his hardening bulge. You reach up to wrap your arms around his neck, but pause for a moment because he never gave you permission to. He senses that, and pulls back for just a moment. “Such a good fuckin’ girl for me. Go ‘head, baby, touch me.”

You immediately bring your arms back up to grab ahold of him but too riled up in how he’s making you feel, you don’t notice the huge grumble your empty tummy makes. He pulls both your wrists back from his neck and puts an insufferable amount of space between you two.

He says your name, filled with both concern and slight anger. “When was the last time you ate?”

Silence.

He lets go of your wrist and grabs your chin between his pointer and thumb, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m not askin’ again, baby.”

“Y-yesterday night,” you stumble out.

“I’m not givin’ you a heavy meal ‘cause that’ll just upset your stomach, but I am fixin’ you somethin’. Go upstairs, change into the clothes on the bed, come back down and position yourself on the ottoman, like I taught ya last week, hm?”

Too enamored by his roughly smooth voice, all you can muster up is a nod. His eyebrow barely shifts, but that’s all a warning you need. “Yes, sir.”

Padding up into his room, already feeling your insides start to float, you reach the edge of his bed to see a pair of black cheeky boxers, and a thin, fitted black tee. You quickly strip off everything you arrived here in and slip on the garments he gave you. Wasting no time, you head back down in a bee line to the ottoman.

Like I taught ya last week, hm?

His words echo in your mind as you begin to recall last week’s endeavors.

You were straddling his lap for a while now, slowly swallowing each other’s moans and making every part of each other’s body ingrained into your memories. Until suddenly he pulls back, eyes dead set with intention. “You trust me, baby?”

“Always, Joel,” you say back with as stern a voice as possible, confused as to why he’d ask such a thing. “Can I teach you somethin’, then, darlin’?”

You pull him into one more kiss before you breathily tell him yes and pull yourself off his lap to stand before him, fully at his disposal.

He stands up, and without any verbal indications, he’s grabbing onto you and molding your body onto the ottoman in a position that begins to drift you off into subspace. You don’t know if it’s the fact that you're sitting on your knees with your legs tucked under you, or if it’s the slow drag of his hands caressing your inner thighs, pulling them farther apart from each other. Or maybe it’s the way he softly places your hands, palms up, atop of your thighs. Whatever the hell it is, you absolutely fucking love it.

He feels you melting into every little touch he makes and he notes every little moment you slip further and further into your space. “Doin’ okay, my sweet girl?” he asks, voice dark and sweet.

All you can pull out of yourself is a pathetic little whine and a head nod.

“This is position number one. Remember it. We’ll learn more later, but this’ll do just fine for a while, baby.”

And with that, he kisses you ever so softly but with such a dominating, addictive energy that you feel yourself try to push up into him, and immediately he pulls away.

“Sweet girl, Imma let it slide this time, but you do not move from this position unless given permission. Ya hear?”

You return to your original position and assure him how good you’ll be, “Won’t happen again, daddy, I promise.”

His jaw clenches at the honorific; that’s your number one tell that signifies you’ve completely submitted and fallen into subspace. He had originally planned on giving you what you asked for two days ago — “Please, Joel, I need you to fuck me, hard.” — but seeing you all docile and ready for him just makes him want to absolutely praise you in the most beautiful ways possible.

So that’s what he did. For hours. An hour of bending you over the ottoman to eat your pussy like a man who had all the time in the world, an hour of fingering orgasm after orgasm out of you while his mouth switched between licking and marking your tits, and a few hours after that just slowly fucking you into his mattress, caressing and loving on every single part of your body he could reach.

Let’s just say, your family didn’t see you for the rest of that day or the next, and you did not care one fucking bit.

You shuffle onto the ottoman, your form now perfected after secretly practicing each night to increase your endurance of staying in such a position for however long Joel needed you to.

You wait for about five more minutes before he comes back with a platter of all of your favorite fruits — strawberries, mangoes, and pineapple — and sits on the cushioned seat right in front of you. He melts at how good you sit for him, immediately disregarding his original plan and wanting you as close to him as possible.

“My good, beautiful girl,” he says softly, in a way that you’re not sure if it was even meant for you to hear, but you still melt nonetheless. “Come,” he says as he pats his lap while setting the plate off to the table beside him.

You shoot up like a lightning bolt, too excited at the thought of being able to feel him again, but before you can climb up, he grabs your hips, stopping you for a second. He slides his fingers into the hem of your underwear and slowly slides them completely off of you, setting them neatly on the ottoman behind you. He slowly reaches for his belt, then slides it off, letting it fall somewhere on the ground. You stand completely still, patiently waiting for whatever he’s going to give you, although your pussy is proving anything but patient.

He undoes the button and zipper of his jeans and signals for you to come up. “Take me out, cariño.”

You climb up on his thighs, not fully straddling him to give yourself some room to tug his jeans and boxers down enough to pull him free. You pull him free with a small moan escaping your lips, wanting to dart your tongue out and lick his angry tip, but he didn’t give his permission for that. So, you begrudgingly let him go, and wait for what comes next.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen,” he states nonchalantly as if his dick isn’t absolutely begging for you to reach out and grab it. “You’re gonna sit on my cock, keep me nice and warm. Without moving. Only until you’ve eaten all the fruit on this plate will I think about what’s gonna happen next. Got it?”

Your voice trembles, “Y-yes, sir.”

He nods his head, while bringing his hand up to your mouth, signaling for you to let your drool fall. You scoot closer and lift your hips up while he pumps himself a few times to completely cover himself in your spit. With how much your cunt is dripping, you knew his lewd act was for his benefit and his only.

The second his tip catches at your entrance, you can’t control the high-pitch whine that falls from your mouth, and he can’t stop himself from gripping your hips with a bruising force in an attempt to keep from mercilessly pounding up into you right here.

“So f-fucking full,” you breath out as you sink lower and lower, to which he nearly growls with a strained, “So fucking tight.”

You finally bottom out, and you both take a moment to breathe and settle any impulsive thoughts of forgetting the purpose of tonight’s scene. You shift a little to adjust to settle your legs more comfortably at his sides, while he leans over to bring your plate of fruit closer. Both your actions together make you hiss in desperation.

“Color, baby?”

“Green, sir, green,” you promise him.

He smiles, genuine and bright, before his face goes dark and smug again. He picks up a piece of pineapple with his fingers. “Open.”

You lean in and take the sweet fruit from his fingers, making sure to lick any residual of the pineapple’s sweet juices. This goes on until you’ve finished every last piece he cut for you. Towards the last few pieces, your pussy was absolutely drenching his cock with your slick, both your thighs and his soaked. He could feel every pulse and every flutter, and no matter how patient he usually was, something in the air tonight was testing every ounce of his strength.

He sets the plate aside and licks a mix of fruit juices and your spit clean off his fingers. You watch him, completely entranced by the way his tongue wraps around his thick fingers, and you can’t help but feel such an aching need to throw yourself at him.

So you do. And to your surprise, he allows it. You pull both his arms to wrap around your middle and you push yourself into him for a searing kiss, whimpering for him to slip you his tongue. He indulges, and you immediately begin grinding your hips down onto his cock. He growls and wraps his arms tighter around you, adding more pressure into your grind, forcing you to break the kiss to regain your breath. “Fuck, baby. Such an impatient little one, aren’t ya?” He rasps out.

Your hips move faster at his words, trying to will yourself to say something, anything, but you can’t. He notices your effort. “It’s okay, I’ve got you, baby, hm?”

And with that — with the notion that he’ll take care of you with anything you need — you completely fall. “Y- yes,” you moan out, “Da- fuck- daddy’s got me.”

Ah, there she is. Daddy’s girl. His back straightens so he’s towering over you more. He grabs your jaw tightly while you continue to pleasure yourself on his dick, forcing you to hold his stare. “Oh, sweet girl, daddy’s always gonna give ya what ya need. Promise, baby. Now be the good little girl I know you are and cum for me.”

You can feel him meet every movement of your hips, coaxing your high out of you faster than you realize. The wet, squelch your pussy makes every time you suck him in is enough to make him release his load, but he won’t. Not until you’ve came more times than ever before, not until you’re left completely fucked dumb.

He snakes his hand down to the front, reaching for your clit, using his thumb to make mind-numbing, calculated circles. Your back arches at the sensation, head thrown back, and he brings his other free hand to the back of your neck to pull you closer into him. He ravishes your neck all over, sucking and biting all your weak spots, your pulse points, only to run his tongue over it in soothing motions, getting even more worked up at the marks that’ll form tomorrow. Then, he rips your shirt right in half, letting it fall to the ground. So much for makin’ you change, he thinks. He brings his mouth lower and lower, sucking one of your nipples in between his teeth, throwing you over the edge.

Your vision goes white, your entire body goes rigid, and your pussy uncontrollably flutters around his dick as he peppers your neck and chest with more kisses while you come back down.

Your body is now soft and pliant, fully ready for whatever more Joel is going to give you. Your head is still high up in the clouds, and it will be for a while, but he always knows how to take care of you. You feel him slowly lift you off his dick and you hear him groan as he looks down.

“God fucking damn, doll, look at you all over me. Such a fuckin’ mess.”

Your face heats up immediately, “I- I’m sorry, daddy, I-”

He grabs your jaw again and pulls you in for a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He pulls away bringing your bottom lip with him until he lets go, letting it fall back into place, now wet with his spit. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize for that. You made daddy so proud, baby. So much so that you’re gonna do it again for me,” he says as he squeezes your ass cheek.

You squeak out a gasp and a breathy please. He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom with you still wrapped around him like a koala.

Immediately he throws you on the bed, and before you’re able to scramble up towards the pillows, he’s already pushing you up by the thighs and kneeling between your spread legs.

He releases one thigh for a quick second and holds his hand out, “Pillow, baby.” It takes your blissed mind one moment to register, but as soon as it does, you don’t waste a second, grabbing the pillow next to your head and eagerly handing it to him. He takes the pillow and taps your thigh twice, signaling for you to lift up. He secures the pillow under your hips then brings both his large hands back to the underside of your thighs, pushing your legs up so you’re nearly folded in half, giving him complete access to your dripping heat.

If there’s one thing about Joel Miller, it’s that he loves to make a fucking mess. You thought your first sensation would be one flat lick up your cunt, but instead you feel warmth. Wet and warm and everywhere, and finally you realize, he let his mouth fill with spit only to absolutely drench you with it. Once he’s satisfied with his mess only then does he dive into you like a man starved. Licking and pushing into your slit while the tip of his nose rubs against your clit has you climaxing in an instant, your back arching and your hips lifting as much as they can with the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you in place.

He lets one hand slowly slide off your thigh and up your belly until he reaches one of your tits, switching between grabbing your entire breast and pinching your nipple. He continues to lick at you and circle your clit with his tongue until you’re a complete whining mess from the overstimulation. “Daddy, please,” you moan.

He lifts his head, eyes as black as ever, “I’ve got you, princess, you can take it.” He reluctantly breaks away from your cunt and kisses his way up your body, taking his time with sloppy, open mouthed kisses near your hip bone and your sternum, knowing those areas drive you crazy the most. He makes sure to bite a little extra hard in some areas on his journey up, knowing you love to admire all the marks and bruises he makes on you.

He sucks another bruise right underneath your jaw, making you push up into him more, while his hands continue to wander and grasp every part of your body that he can. Finally he reaches your mouth and gives you a sweet, long kiss to your mouth, distracting you enough that you don’t see him reach for the vibrator in the nightstand beside the bed. You feel him slide his hand back down your body, but you still don’t realize the vibrator’s presence until you feel the buzz directly on your clit.

Out of pure reaction, your hand flies to the nape of his neck and tugs sharply, all while obscenities fall pathetically from your mouth, “Oh- f-fuck, daddy, yes! J-just like that, please, please don’t stop…” The quick-paced, blinding pleasure builds so fast it cuts off your dirty mouth and reduces you down to moans and gasps and whines of daddy, daddy, daddy.

He slips two fingers into your pussy, sliding in with so much ease with how wet you are from a combination of your cream and his spit, all while he uses his other hand to push the vibrator into your bundle of nerves.

You don’t know whether it has been one minute or one hour of this, but all you know is that you’ve got sweat lining your forehead, beading down your body, and you absolutely can’t take the buzzing pleasure with the constant come-here motion with his fingers anymore, you have to let go. Although this time, it feels different than the rest of the times Joel has made you cum. This time… this time it feels like- you have to pee?

Immediately you start to panic and try to break away from his hold, unable to allow yourself to fucking pee all over him. “Daddy, wait! Please stop.. it- it feels different, like I.. I think I’m gonna pee..” you gasp, trying to articulate your thoughts while he continues his torture on your cunt.

His eyes go wide and it immediately registers for him, “Fuck, baby, don’t worry about that, just let go. Come on, daddy’s got you. You trust me?”

You hesitate for a moment, but still, you know the answer, “Y-yes, daddy.”

“Good, my princess. Cum for me, fuckin’ soak me. I told you I wanted another fuckin’ mess,” he demands and fucks you even harder with his fingers and increases the pressure of the vibrator.

You all but scream, definitely sure the neighbors can hear you, but you don’t give a fuck with the fireworks erupting behind your eyes and all throughout your body. Your body is still convulsing and you’re sure you’ve gone unconscious for a moment, but what brings you back to the Earth is the feeling of a warm, flat tongue licking you all over, cleaning you up. Then another sensation hits you: your bottom half is completely fucking drenched. You muster up all the strength you can to open your eyes and look down to see what’s going on.

You see your big, broad man licking you up so sweetly, but from his mouth down he is also absolutely soaked, down to the collar of his dark green shirt he was wearing.

Holy fuck. You fucking squirted. That was new. And with Joel’s reaction to it, you’re definitely sure that’s not gonna be the last time he pulls that out of you.

He doesn’t realize you’re up again until you’re softly calling his attention back up to you and not your pussy. He makes eye contact with you, and his eyes fucking sparkle. Yeah, there’s no way this was a one time kind of thing. He sits back up on his haunches and strips himself of his shirt. He never pulled his jeans back up from when you used him to get off in the living room, so his dick has been patiently waiting for attention since your last two orgasms.

He strips himself completely at the bottom half, too, leaving you with a perfect view of his toned chest, softer middle, and bulging arms and shoulders. Your cunt, all used and abused, fucking clenches on nothing at the naked sight of him. Of course, he fucking notices.

“Oh, my poor baby. She’s just fuckin’ beggin’ to be filled, huh?” His southern drawl always intensifies whenever he gets spurred on like this. And, fuck, if it doesn’t make you fold more than you already do.

You whine at his words and spread your legs even wider for him to see what’s rightfully his.

“Just beggin’ to get pumped full of my fuckin’ cum, huh, princess? Is that what she wants? That what my babygirl wants?”

“Please, daddy! Yes, that’s what I- what I need, daddy… need you ins- fuck- need you inside, daddy,” you ramble out, already fucked stupid but still begging for more. He situates himself on top of you, stopping your begging with a harsh kiss that leaves your already swollen lips throbbing. “Shhh, I’m gonna give you what you need, darlin’,” and he kisses you one more time as he begins to notch his tip at your entrance.

He hooks his arm underneath your knee, hiking your one leg up higher to open you completely. You feel him start to push in deeper, and neither of you can help the initial gasp of how good it feels to be consumed by one another. He leans down again to kiss you, unable to get enough of your lips on his, and you bring your hand back up to the back of his head, keeping him close to you, feeling the exact same way.

He completely bottoms out into you then, his breathing labored and you, a whimpering mess. No matter how many times you two have fucked, his sheer size always makes you feel like it’s the first time. He stays still to let you get used to the feeling again. You both lay there for a few minutes, kissing and consuming each other’s breaths and moans while he gives you rhythmic little grinds to stimulate your clit. Your pussy is sobbing at this point, enough wetness has accumulated that he’s able to slide right out until just the tip is in you and he pushes right back in, hard.

He fucks you hard, maintaining this rhythm for a while, completely consumed by the way you wrap around him so perfectly. What started off as one leg hiked up around him turned into a complete mating press, giving you the maximum sensation of his length and girth pumping in and out of you. He always gets so foul-mouthed whenever you two end up in this position, not that you’d ever complain because you love hearing that rough, sexy Southern drawl utter absolute filth that only your ears will ever get to hear.

“Fuck, darlin’, it’s like she was fuckin’ made for me. Wrapped around my cock, so fucking tight and warm. I could spend fuckin’ forever here wrapped up in your tight fuckin’ cunt,” he groans.

“All for you, daddy, always,” you respond, purposefully squeezing your pussy tight in time with your words. That drives him absolutely fucking crazy that he pulls his arm upwards in between your legs that are resting on his torso and brings his hand up to wrap around your throat. “Say it again,” he growls, “tell me who the fuck this pussy belongs to, baby.” He squeezes the sides of your neck tighter, creating an even lighter sensation in your head coupled with the submissive daze you’ve been in since you got here.

“F-fuck, d-daddy- shit,” you can’t focus on anything but the way he feels wrapped around your neck while balls deep inside of you.

“Darlin’ girl,” he warns, “don’t make me repeat myself.”

You sob out, willing your body to respond to him, willing your body to obey, “Th- this pussy belongs t- to-“ you take a breath, “to you, daddy, only you. Forever.”

He releases your throat and pulls your legs down from the mating press, wrapping them around his waist instead. He places one hand at the back of your head and the other on the headboard, then kisses you furiously before breaking away, “God damn f-fuckin’ right, princess. All fuckin’ mine to do whatever I fuckin’ want.” And with that, he’s slamming into you, his hand on the headboard in a (wasted) attempt to save the wall from the constant banging.

“Touch that pretty little clit, princess,” he breathes out, chasing his own release now with the sole intention of marking you with his seed. One hand still on his neck, the other snakes down to rub your clit in fast, messy circles, your body begging to cum for a fourth time tonight. “Daddy,” you whine out again, the honorific clearly being your only vocabulary for tonight.

“I know, honey, I know,” he coos, “Cum for me, mama, and I’ll fill you up right fuckin’ now,” he sucks on your bottom lip, “You want that, baby? To be pumped full of me?” He knows your answer, yet he still asks anyway knowing how much his words affect you.

“Please, God, yes, fill me up… I need your cum so fucking badly, I need to feel you, please,” you beg, only spurring him on more.

With both of your mouths spilling such dirty words, his lips anywhere they can reach with the combination of you playing with your clit and him pounding into you, your body enters the astral plane yet again for the fourth time tonight. Though, this time, you force your body to come back down, so you can feel his warmth spill into you.

It only takes but a few more thrusts after you climax for him to follow suit, roaring out as hot, thick ropes of cum spill into you, overflowing and dripping out of your sore cunt. He slowly pulls out, labored breathing, sits back up and just watches. Watches as your pussy clenches to keep him locked inside of you, watches as his load drips down your folds over your tight, little asshole. Another day, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until his fingers are engrossed in the thick combination of your releases. You moan out at the sensitivity of your pussy, but Joel doesn’t care. He slips his middle and ring finger in, feeling just how much he filled you up. And before you know it, he’s pumping in and out of you yet again, his eyes completely focused on your glistening sex, hitting that spongy spot inside of you that has you fluttering for another fucking release.

“Ahh,” you hiss, not knowing whether you want him to stop or keep going. He uses his other hand to rub on your clit. Fuck. Yeah, okay, you want him to keep going. “Shit, daddy, I’m gonna cum again,” you say as you scramble to get ahold of the bedsheets.

Joel’s gaze breaks away from your cunt to look at you, he smirks like the devil, “Oh, yeah, honey? Gonna give me another one? Come on, baby, I know you have it in you,” he slips a third finger inside. You whine at the stretch. “One more mess, baby, and then I’ll take care of you, I gotcha,” he says for comfort.

You’re nearing the point where you guys usually begin to transition into aftercare, and he knows. He always knows. But he also knows that today you need a little extra push, so he gives it to you.

The thrusts of his fingers don’t come to a stop, but they exponentially slow. “Give me a color, mi amor,” he softly encourages. Even with your erratic breathing, you’re able to force out, “Oh my god, daddy, green, green, green, please go faster, just like before, please-”

He quickly leans forward and stops your blabbering with a chaste kiss and chuckles when he pulls back, “My god, I love you so much, princess.” Then his fingers pick back up to the speed you were so desperately loving before, his and your cum leaking out all over the inside of your thighs.

“Fuck, daddy, I love you so fucking much, fuck, thank you, thank you,” you cry out. A few more pumps and a few more circles to your clit and you’re cumming for the fifth (and final) time tonight. Joel groans at the way you finish on his fingers, and it’s his mouth that blabbers out this time.

“Shit, baby, yes, soak my fuckin’ fingers, let me feel you, fuck-” He’s so enthralled at the sight before him, he doesn’t hear you pleading for him to stop pushing in and out until the honorific fades, “Baby, baby, baby,” you frantically breathe.

He makes eye contact with you again and realizes how caught up he was in you. “Oh, darlin’, shit, I’m sorry, mi amor. What’s your color, baby? Fuck, I’m sorry-”

It’s you this time who forces your entire wobbly body to push up and meet him in a bruising kiss. “Stop, daddy,” you say with a lilt in your tone, signaling to Joel that you’re back from subspace. You smirk, “My color is green, cowboy, but I really need you to run me a warm bath now because I can’t move a single muscle with how you had me, baby,” and pull him in once more for another kiss.

His smugness returns and he pushes you back down on his bed, peppering your face and neck with kisses, forcing sweet out-of-breath giggles from you. “That, I can do, baby. May I join you?”

Your face completely softens, your stresses and worries from the last 24 hours completely nonexistent. “I’d be mad if you didn’t, Miller.”

The next hour and a half — or until the bath water becomes tepid — is spent with him cherishing your body, washing you with your lavender, oat milk body wash you love so much, ultimately just helping you softly come down from your oxytocin high.

You’ve never felt more loved, appreciated, or taken care of in your life. He always makes sure your come down is smooth and unnoticeable as you fall from a blissed state of mind to one of pure love and adoration. As long as you have him in your life, you truly believe you have all of what you need.

As he’s drying your body up and slipping you into one of his t-shirts, your stomach growls… loudly.

“Darlin’...”

You pull away from his grasp, jokingly rolling your eyes while smirking, “Yeah, yeah, Miller. Come on. Gotta fill me up again, don’tcha, cowboy?”

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes out followed by your name, “Tryna put me in an early fuckin’ grave or what?”

Author’s note - extended: Hi guys! I birthed this little one shot on a Friday night while sippin’ on a glass of whiskey and stressing about the stressful entire week I just had. This isn’t my first time writing, in general, but this is my first time writing with the intention of truly producing a story out of it.. this is also my first story I’m posting, so I’m very nervous. Even if just one other person reads this and enjoys it, that’s all that matters to me <3 I also wanna give a quick thank you to my bestie, who’s an AVID smut reader, for proofreading this. She said, and I quote, “gotta change my panties” and “she’s growling” after reading this LMAOO. So, thank you for that, bestie. I love you with my whole heart.

As with any fic, reblog and comments are very much appreciated!! All feedback is appreciated, too!!! Please do let me know how you liked this, and if there's anything specific I could work to improve, I'd love to know! I hope I did okay for my first actual attempt at smut.

Much love to everyone! <3

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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ace-turned-confused · 5 months

Text

whatever you want | joel miller x f!reader

joel masterlist

summary: date night for you and Joel but we skip to the good part word count: 3,2k warnings: 18+ only, POV changes, no plot in sight, reader has no physical descriptions other than clothing, established relationship, pet names, smut, oral (m receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v, butt stuff, spitting, creampie, praise kink, panty kink, size kink, Joel’s filthy mouth a/n: this is the first thing i've written that's actually made it out the doc before being trashed forever - big thanks to my irl bestie for her continuous words of encouragement <3 this is very mildly edited because i'll hate it if i keep trying to improve it ✌️ i'd appreciate any feedback! again pls be nice thank you love you

You've been looking forward to this all week — date night with Joel. You usually stick to something simple, going out for a cosy dinner or just deciding to cook together at home — but he always ensures it’s a memorable night in one way or another, and tonight is no exception.

He suggested to you earlier in the week, lying in bed, “How ‘bout this time you pick out something for me to wear? Hm?” It had your mind racing with ideas, thinking about all the possibilities now presented to you.

You glance at him, “So what’s in it for you, then?”

“No ulterior motive here, sweetheart,” he puts his palms up near his face and smirks, “You always look pretty for me, I just thought I’d return the favour.”

“Hm, that’s a big decision,” you mutter with a playful smile.

You’re well aware of what Joel loves seeing you wear — he’s always loved anything you wear, to be frank, racy or not — and decided to pose a deal to him, something you knew you’d both benefit from.

“I may have some ideas. Why don’t we make a deal, then?” you inch closer to him and play with a stray lock of his hair. “You do something for me, and I’ll do something for you.” Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s trying to figure out the game you’re playing.

“And what would that entail?” he asks, a hint of cockiness in his voice, impressed by your unusual boldness. You remove your hand from his hair and drape your arm over him.

“Will you wear that red shirt again… with the sleeves rolled up?” you ask shyly, trailing your fingers up and down his side.

“Sure will,” he says, still smirking. You’re only getting more breathless the longer this goes on, and you haven't even made your whole point yet.

“And… those black pants of yours…?”

“Which ones, sweetheart? I got a lot of black pants,” he remarks, feigning innocence and a cheeky lilt to his voice. “You know which ones,” you mutter, your hand stilling.

He shifts closer until you’re pressed against each other and whispers, “Don’t think I do, you’re gonna have to tell me.”

You huff, annoyed at him for teasing you like this, and at yourself for getting turned on by his games. “The tight-fitting, black—”

“That’s not what you really want to say, though, is it? Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours,” he interrupts, and you shiver.

You look down at his chest, unable to make eye contact with him and pray he doesn’t notice how your cheeks redden as you whisper back, “Those black pants that everyone can see how big you are, those pants, I want you to wear them.”

He skims a hand up your back, “See? Was that so difficult?” he asks rhetorically, and you can practically hear his teasing smile and visualise the dark glint that you know will be in his eyes. “And what shoes should I wear, you know, to tie the whole look together?”

“You know very well I couldn’t care less what fucking shoes you wear,” you chirp back at him, forcing yourself to look him in the eye again.

Satisfied with your answer, he plants his hand on the small of your back, caressing you gently with his thumb, “You mentioned some kind of deal?”

If he hadn’t brought it up again you’re not sure you would’ve remembered at all. You’ll always be amazed by how calm he is after derailing a conversation and making you so flustered.

You close your eyes, mentally shake yourself, and start your bargaining, “Well, I promise to wear the laciest panties I own—” you look at him sweetly through your lashes, “—if you promise to keep your clothes on. And you can, you know, do whatever you want.” It comes out far breathier than you were planning, but it’s out. “With me, to me, you know. Whatever.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly, voice lowered, “Whatever I want, hm? And all I have to do is stay dressed? Quite the deal there.”

Joel’s made himself comfortable in his chair, eyes trained on you in the doorway. Sitting here now, the night’s only just beginning and you’re already like putty in his hands. He noticed hours ago your eyes had glazed over, and he’s been growing harder and harder ever since in anticipation.

“What’re you thinking about, sweetheart?” he asks, and your gaze refocuses on him.

“You,” you reply, sweet and simple.

He does a once-over, taking in your flowery, strappy top and neat little black slip-skirt that falls just above your knees and hugs your hips beautifully — your hands fiddling with the hem of your shirt and you’re shifting your weight side to side.

He smiles softly and suggests, “Why don’t you show me those pretty panties you promised to wear?” and you nod gently, moving slowly further into the room.

Much more confident and comfortable in your own skin than when you took your clothes off for him the first time, you face Joel and lift your gaze to meet his. You reach behind your back to unzip your top and lift it over your head, dropping it to the floor. Pushing your thumbs beneath your waistband, you peel your skirt over your hips and hunch forward slightly, letting it pool around your feet. Standing at your full height again, he takes all of you in — clad in lace, black bra and lilac panties.

He widens his legs and curls a finger, beckoning you forward and you stand between his knees. Joel rests his hands on your hips, thumbing the lace over your hipbones.

“Where’ve you been hiding these?” he looks up at you and sees heat blooming across your chest and up your neck.

“I, um… I’ve been saving them, for uh—“ you stutter, and he can see you start second-guessing your choice. Breathing shallowly, you murmur, “Do you not like them?”

He smiles at you, still playing with the lace, “I love them, sweetheart. You know I always do.” He lowers his gaze down to your panties again, eyes trailing across the fabric, and he doesn’t miss how you press your legs together, seeking any sort of relief.

He pushes against your hip to turn you around, and almost can’t believe how you’ve both ended up here. You, dressed in your best lace just for him, ready and willing to do as he says? You’d clearly been wanting to do this for some time now, but Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, too. He kneads the swell of your ass, fingers toying with the lacy edges and hears you breathing deeply again.

“So, whatever I want?”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder and reply under your breath, “Yes.”

He turns you around to face him, hands still on your hips. He looks up at you again, “You okay?” and squeezes his hands.

“Yeah,” and you nod, smiling down at him.

“Well, you did such a good job picking these panties all on your own, sweetheart, I think maybe you need a reward,” he darts his tongue out and drags his hands along your thighs, resting his arms down and leaning back in his chair. “First, though, you’re gonna show me just how good you can be, okay? C’mon, on your knees.”

You lower yourself, getting comfortable between his legs, your eyes lingering on his bulge before looking up at him. He nods towards his lap and you start undoing his pants, palming him through the fabric. Reaching into his boxer briefs and wrapping your hand around his length, you stroke him a few times and pull his waistband down just enough to take him out, thick and heavy and already fully stiff in your hand. You bow your head to lick him from base to tip, hover above him and spit onto his cock, stroking him harder and smiling sweetly at him.

You start taking him into your mouth and he sighs, resting a hand on the crown of your head. “You been waiting all night for this, huh, sweetheart?”

You hum a response and he groans, watching you bob up and down, taking more and more of him each time. You pull off and continue stroking him, and he smiles at you in encouragement. You take him in your mouth again, and he feels you hollow your cheeks and take him even further, the tip of his cock just about breaching your throat and you whimper around him.

“Fuck, baby, doin’ so good,” he grunts and pulls you off. His hand moves to the nape of your neck, the other tracing over your collarbone and down over the lace of your bra, your nipples hardening through the delicate fabric. “Think you can do it?”

You nod eagerly at him, eyes glinting, hands stroking him languidly and you move to start sucking him again. He tightens his grip and stops you. “Use your words, please.”

“Yes, I can do it.” You look up at him and his hold softens.

“Good girl, go on.”

You lick the underside of his shaft and swirl your tongue around the head of his cock and take him again, working him just to the start of your throat. You’re breathing as best you can through your nose, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, lips stretched around him and brushing his wiry curls as you push even further and hold him there, fingers digging into his thighs. You start to gag and do your best not to pull off him, squirming to find any bit of friction and Joel moans at the sight, throwing his head back.

“Bein’ such a good girl, taking my cock so far down your throat, hm?”

You moan and swallow around him, his hips jerking at the sensation and he pulls you off. “Almost too good,” he breathes, “know you’d love me coming down your throat, but not tonight.” He gives you a lopsided smile and you whine, moving back and forth on your knees.

“Stand up for me sweetheart,” and you rise, looking down at him, still catching your breath. His hands are back on you immediately, squeezing your waist, hips, ass — any part of you he can reach. He runs his fingers across your panties again, trailing them down over your covered clit and between your folds and you tilt forward into his touch.

“Soaked right through these pretty panties of yours,” he looks up to meet your gaze and there’s almost no colour to your eyes anymore, just pure blown-out pupils. He keeps rubbing his fingers along you and you whine again, clearly desperate for him to touch you properly.

He smirks up at you, “So needy just from sucking my cock.”

Joel shoves his hand under the elastic of your panties and rubs his fingers between your folds and over your entrance, coating his fingers in your arousal. He shoves two thick fingers into you without warning and you fall forward with a strangled moan, hands supporting your weight on his shoulders as he pumps his fingers in and out, your cunt tight around him.

“Always so wet for me, huh? Need me to make you feel good?” He stares at you, eyes shut and mouth hanging open as he slows his hand and you force out a yes, your voice hoarse. He speeds up again and curls his fingers into that one spot he knows you can’t reach with your own hand, brushing over it again and again, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit.

Your legs start trembling and he pulls his fingers out and slips them into his mouth, sucking them clean. “Taste so sweet.”

He moves his legs between yours and pulls you towards him and down onto his lap, guiding your hips back and forth over his length, precome leaking from his tip. He leans forward, “You gonna keep these on while you sit on my cock, yeah?” and tugs on the waistband of your panties, letting the elastic snap back against your skin. You nod frantically in response and lean into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him haphazardly. He licks into your mouth and moans into you, hands firmly gripping your ass.

You rise slightly and he takes hold of his cock, stroking himself and pulls your panties to one side. He lines himself up with your entrance and you start to sink down, eyes screwing shut at the stretch. He holds you by the waist, your hands like a vice grip on his shoulders and it takes everything in him not to pull you down and make you take him to the hilt. You take your time working him in, inch by inch, and Joel can tell how close you are already, your broken moans getting louder and louder.

You’re fully seated and he takes a hand off his shoulder, plants a kiss on your knuckles and guides it between your bodies, spreading your fingers around where he’s splitting you open. “You feel how stretched you are, baby?” You gasp and he leans towards you and lifts his hand to grip across your chin, mouth ghosting yours and squeezes his hand to purse your lips.

“Open,” he orders and your lips part, spitting into your mouth and he feels you tightening around him. Pushing his index finger into your mouth, you suck and swirl your tongue around it, moaning as you lift up and down, grinding yourself onto the trail of hair at the base of his cock. Joel feels your legs starting to give out underneath you and he watches you with hooded eyes. He pulls his finger from your mouth and wraps his arms around you, hands reaching down underneath your panties to grab your ass and spread you wider. He prods his finger at your tight hole and your eyes shoot open to look at him, desperate and needy.

“You gonna come for me?” You whine and nod, almost begging him with a please, over and over again. He pushes his finger in to just past his middle knuckle and you moan out wantonly, already completely wrecked. Joel feels your cunt clamp down on his cock and you come with a sob of his name, eyes shut and face contorted in pleasure as he whispers praises in your ear.

At some point in your post-orgasm haze, Joel moved the two of you onto the bed — you waiting on all fours and Joel's voice breaking through from somewhere behind you.

“Did good sweetheart, always do, but I’m not done with you.” His hands are all over you, skating across and grabbing any skin he can reach. You crane your neck to look over your shoulder in search of him and notice he’s still fully dressed — well, as fully dressed as he can be — and remember that’s what got you into this position in the first place. Dishevelled greying curls, only the last couple buttons holding his shirt together, wide chest on full display, sleeves rolled up, pants and boxer briefs sitting mid-thigh, his cock, thick and hard and leaking and you clench around nothing just at the sight.

He hooks his fingers into your waistband and pulls your panties down to the tops of your thighs, placing open-mouthed kisses on the skin as it’s revealed. He spreads you with his hands and spits onto your pussy and you let out a choked moan. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds and the messy mix of arousal and spit and your last orgasm. You feel him notch at your entrance again, and he sheaths himself fully inside your cunt in one thrust, all but punching the air from your lungs and he groans. You feel the swell of his tummy pressed against you and his fingers digging into your ass as he spreads you open. “Look so beautiful like this, wish you could see it.”

He leans over you, breathing into your neck, “Always take my cock so well, baby.” He pulls out almost completely, snapping his hips back into you and you can already feel heat pooling at the base of your spine again as he pounds into you, fingers gripping your hips so hard he’s bound to leave bruises. He snakes a hand underneath you to rub your clit and you feel your legs start to tremble.

All you can think is Joel Joel Joel, and his voice cuts through the ringing in your ears, husky and breathless. “You gonna give me one more, yeah? Come for me, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come on my cock,” and you all but see stars behind your eyes, overwhelmed with the sweet praise. He stills as you come, his hands and affirming words keeping you grounded as you clench and gush around him.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you up flush against him, your head falling back onto his shoulder and you’re not sure you can form words anymore, your chest heaving as you try to get your breathing back to normal. You turn your head towards him and he kisses you surprisingly gently.

“Can you be good just a bit longer?” He starts grinding his hips into you and you whine, your hands coming up to hold his arms. “Always such a good girl for me, hm?” He drags his mouth along the side of your neck and you nod tiredly, feeling him smile.

He starts with slow thrusts, his grip around you the sole reason you’re still upright, his voice in your ear and hot breath on your neck and the heavy, familiar, drag of his cock in and out making you dizzy.

“So fuckin’ tight around me sweetheart. Your favourite feeling, isn’t it? Being stuffed full of my cock?” He starts rambling on and you know he’s close. “You want me to come inside you? Want me to come inside your tight little pussy?”

“Yes, please. Please come inside me.”

He mumbles incoherently and you tighten your hands on his arms; his thrusts get harder and his arms stiffen in their hold around you and you feel him twitching as he starts to spill inside you, warmth coating your walls. He lowers you both to lie down as he comes down from his high, cock still buried deep inside you and you feel his spend start to leak out around him and down your thighs.

Shifting around and your eyes fluttering open, you’re wrapped up in Joel’s arms, head burrowed against his chest. You reach down and feel he’s cleaned you up and pulled fresh panties on you, a faint throbbing between your thighs. He stirs next to you and presses a kiss to your forehead, long and tender.

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you mumble and wrap an arm around his torso to press yourself into him even more.

He pulls back slightly, lifting your chin with a finger to look at him. “Sweetheart, think we’ve done this enough that I know you get sleepy afterwards. Stop apologising.” He cradles your cheek, kisses you sweetly and whispers, “Now go back to sleep.”

comments & reblogs are hugely appreciated, forehead kisses to all 💜

dividers by @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction

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essentiallyleaf · 11 months

Note

Ya know what , I'll give you an idea

As a commercial pilot how bout a kink "plane sex"

And pls write Rosé with this kink

day 15. body worship. with. rosé.

1268 words.

tags.

kinktober ‘23, idol x male reader, body worship, lots of kissing and licking, feet stuff, abs stuff, oral sex, fingering, squirting, minor plane stuff, the dialogue just goes places idk, hold onto your suspension of disbelief for dear life, blasphemy(?).

notes.

this is barely even related to the ask, isn’t it? sorry, icyphilosopher, i really am (thank you so much for the inspiration though). well, my excuse is i watched Queen & Slim (it was alright, the soundtrack might be the best part. that and Daniel Kaluuya) and felt like crime today.

The private jet has barely taken off when Rosé starts taking her clothes off, starting from the black heels, then proceeding with the black cropped blazer, the high-waisted black shorts, along with the belt and the chains attached to them, the polka dot black shirt, and finishing with the black stockings and her black underwear. She puts them all in a black trash bag and throws herself on the beige leather sofa face first, completely naked.

“Fuck this ‘No fires on the plane’ rule.” She complains into the beige pillow.

“I mean, if you want to burn them now and cause a fire, making the jet collapse on itself and getting us buried on the bottom of the northern Pacific, go ahead.” You reply nonchalantly as you take a sip of vodka while sitting cross-legged on one of the beige armchairs.

“Honestly, compared to the prospect of a ten-hour flight with you, that doesn’t even sound that bad”

It’s Rosé’s habit to burn clothes, phones, cars, (people,) anything that can be linked to her in a meaningful way, after every job. This time it was a fairly straightforward drug trade with this Yakuza syndicate in Osaka: give the talcum powder, take the money, go home. The road was somewhat bumpy and a couple heads had to pop, but what can you do. Oh, and the getting naked in front of you part, that was a thing way before you two started fucking.

You stand up from your seat and duck next to the couch as she turns her head towards you. Start caressing her smooth, long blonde hair as you admire her graceful features. How could such a cold, brutal criminal look so angelic?

“Are you in a hurry?”

“Leave no trace.” She recites her mantra matter-of-factly.

“You think someone’s on our trail?”

You lay on top of her and start kissing her shoulders, from the left, then move her hair to kiss her neck, to the right, and back a couple times.

“Someone’s always on your trail.” Your kisses start heading down her back, each a little wetter than the previous. “You know how it always ends with people like us, right?”

You think you hear Rosé’s voice break for a split second, but you could be wrong. Place your hands on her shoulders and start slowly making little circles with your thumbs as you keep traveling down.

“We get greedy and scared and die sad and alone?”

“We always trust one person too many”

As your trail of kisses gets to her lower back, right above the curve of her ass, you flip her body around. Bend her legs on her chest, then start massaging each foot with one of your hands, going from the middle of her soles, to her heels, to the balls of her feet, untangling her muscle fibers all the way through. You hear her humming in the meantime.

“So? Would you stop living your life for that?”

“I would try my best not to end my life because of that.” You bring her feet to your mouth and start pecking her toes, then travel down the inside of her feet and up again kissing her soles. “Plus, it gives me a sense of peace, of liberation”

“Ashes to ashes?”

“In that analogy, I would be… God?”

Take a long lick from her heel to the ball of her foot, ending by wrapping your lips around her big toe and licking all around it.

“Do you feel like one?”

“I don’t think God sees himself like we see him” She moves her other foot towards your mouth to signal you to switch, which you do, as your hands reach towards her small breasts and start softly playing with her rosy nipples. “Powerful men need people to adore them to feel immortal. Immortals don’t need our attention to be powerful”

“You think God is a woman?”

“I think God is a depressed fuck.”

You let out a chuckle. Then lower her knees again and place yourself between them to start kissing and licking her wonderful, sculpted abs. Your right hand almost instinctively starts lightly rubbing her already wet outer lips, your left grabbing her plump asscheek.

“What a short couple billion years alone in the button room could do to ya”

“But honestly, working on the wrong side of the law… I think it’s hard not to feel like one” She starts panting a little in between words.

“Ego?” Your mouth slowly travels down her lower stomach while your fingers play with her nub.

“Just, pure facts. I could kill a man that crosses my path at any time, and I have. Mmmmh. We just, own their lives. The decision to let them live on, or to end them, right then and there. It’s all ours. Yeahh- How do you not feel all-powerful when you have that?”

It becomes hard for her to complete a sentence without any moans in between.

“Does it matter?”

“W-What?”

Rosé’s focus is probably directed away from the conversation, and towards the feeling of your fingers opening her lips wide and your tongue taking one long lick from the bottom of her slit up to her sensitive clit.

“I don’t know them. Are decisions over the lives of people you don’t care about even worth making?”

You take several shorter licks around her slit, side to side, up and down, once in a while penetrating her hole slightly.

“What do y-youh care about?”

As her moans become longer and more frequent, her sentences become simpler and shorter.

“Right now, taking my money home”

Your tongue digs deep into her pussy, you try to reach every corner and crevice of her heat with it, and her whimpers tell you you’re doing a pretty good job at it.

“And th-en, what?”

Your mouth detaches from her right as she sounds like she’s going to give in. You get on your knees and pause for a second, looking at the empty floor of the plane.

“...I don’t know, a legacy?”

“Villains have no legacy, they only leave bloody paper and hate behind them”

You get back down to face her, staring right down Rosé’s deep brown orbs. Your fingers return to her lower lips, and two of them make their way into her slippery walls, drawing a loud groan off of her. You start pumping in and out of her at an ever increasing pace.

“Love. I want someone to come back home to, to be there, waiting for me, to heal my wounds.” She’s now moaning right in your face, her pitch getting higher and higher, signaling her impending high, but her eyes are wide open and locked on yours. “To be able to spend time with, in silence, without it feeling awkward, not needing to worry about the future, just looking at her in the eyes, and, being in love.”

A few final pumps and Rosé starts repeatedly contracting around you, a stream of unholy water covering your entire hand and wrist in a profane coating, only a deep, tongue-filled kiss muting her screams as she finally can’t keep her eyes open anymore. You close yours with her as her arms wrap around your neck. The kiss lasts far longer than the already lengthy while she takes to recover from her strong orgasm. As both of you stare into each other’s pupils again, you’re the first to talk.

“How do you know when you’ve found what you’re looking for?”

“I don’t know. I think I’ll start from, looking at the junk I’ve collected on my way, before burning it”

footnotes.

god is a journey. progressively, leaf.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #girl group smut #idol smut #female idol smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #idol x reader #idol x male reader #blackpink #rosé #rose #blackpink smut #rose smut #rosé smut #blackpink rose smut #blackpink rosé smut

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buckybabieboy · 1 year

Note

Heyy! I was reading you work, which I love btw, and I wanted to request a one-shot or blurb for little!bucky accidentally getting drunk, like how would he act, what would he say. I feel like he’d be super clingy and needy. With cg!mommy!reader please 🥹 Love you writing <333

Lol this is gonna be the cutest thing ever😭. Thanks for the request Babie!

Tipsy Baby.

☁️ Summary: Bucky has way too much to drink at Natasha’s party, leaving you to take care of your little boy.

⚠️TW(READ.): sub!touch-starved bucky, dom!fem!reader, Bucky is so touch starved😭, reader is able to carry bucky, lactation kink cuz I felt like it, mentions of alcohol, Bucky can get drunk if he drinks an abundance.

📝A/N(PLEASE READ): DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE. ITS THAT SIMPLE. DON’T REPORT MY WORK JUST BC YOU DONT LIKE IT. Anyways, pls enjoy this lil blurb! drunk Bucky is just the cutest 🥰. and your right, bucky is VERY clingy AND FUCKING TOUCH STARVEDDDD when he’s drunk.

“Mommyyyy!” Bucky slurs out as he dramatically falls in front of you on the compound’s floor.

“Mommy pay ‘tenttion to me!”

You peer over your phone and watch as your baby heaves and pants on the ground, his beautiful pale skin flushed with pinkish-reddish tones, and his big puppy dog eyes red and puffed.

“Baby, are you drunk?” You question him, though you already know the answer. He only whines and thrashes his limbs around in a hissy fit, not using his words.

“W-why are you so faaarrr?” He wails petulantly, completely ignoring your question.

“M’ not far, sweetheart, ‘m right in front of you.”

An empty bottle of Tiger Beer has accompanied him on the ground, clutched inside his sweaty palms.

“Gimme that!” You sigh before getting off of your comfy spot on the couch and snatching the bottle out of his hands. He whines even more.

“Who let you have this?”

Bucky pouts and mutters something, but it’s almost impossible to hear with the music and noise that flood throughout the compound.

“Can’t hear you bud, you’re gonna have to speak up f’me, okay?”

“T-tasha…” He hiccups. “N-Natasha lemme have some, mommy…”

Another exasperated sigh escapes from you as you begin to regret supporting Bucky’s idea to come to Natasha’s party. It didn’t really surprise you though, since he was always a party guy when he was younger. You rarely ever drank, especially when you were going to an event. You opted out of that a long time when the both of you got drunk, which you both know didn’t end well.

Natasha had invited everyone to her floor for a party. You weren’t too fond of the idea when you heard there was going to be alcohol, but Bucky was very excited and begged you to go. He assured you that Steve and Sam would be there to watch him.

So eventually you gave in, but not before making him promise that he wouldn’t drink.

When you arrived at the party, Bucky was acting more than normal. He immediately started chatting and playing party games with Wanda and Vision. He even played Twister with them, which you knew was a surprise to everyone. Despite the fact that loud noises triggered him, he seemed to be having a good time. Needless to say, you felt comfortable with letting him go off on his own for awhile.

Scanning the room, you spot Natasha by the fridge, a Tiger Beer in hand. The trash can next to her was filled with empty bottles of that stuff, and you knew they had to be Bucky’s. He couldn’t get drunk easily so it would take a copious amount of alcohol to get him drunk.

The blame wasn’t all on Natasha, though. Wanda, Vision, Steve, Natasha, and Sam all were made aware of Bucky and his little space—you’ve told them a numerous amount of times for his safety. So Natasha could’ve given him a bottle, but Bucky must’ve gotten his hands on this much alcohol all by himself.

You’d have to talk to them about that another day though, because right now, your little boy was cemented on the cold floor, spacey and dazed below you.

“S-so pretty. Mommy so pretty!” Bucky giggles, his head cocked to the side in awe as he gazes up at you. He wasn’t thinking about anything else. He literally couldn’t. His little brain couldn’t process anything while in little space, so him being drunk definitely amplified it X10.

“C’mon, baby boy. Let’s get you taken care of.”

You offer your hand to him. He doesn’t budge though, instead he whines, and mutters more incoherent sentences. This wasn’t the first time Bucky lost all of his words. When he was little, most of the time he would gesticulate instead of speaking up.

“Hmm…” You tap your index finger on your chin, prenteding to brainstorm. “Oh! I know what you want! You want uppies!”

Bucky nods and squeals, making grabby hands up at you. You place your hands under his arms, pick him up, and set him on your hip. A precious little noise escapes from him as he wraps his legs around your waist, his arms around your neck, and leans into your touch. The smell of your hair seemed to be the only thing he was able to process.

Once you make it to your floor, you set him down on the bed. He whines once again when you leave and you quickly shush him, reassuring him that you’re just getting his pj’s out for bed. Bucky stands up to take off his pants but stumbles and trips, landing face down on the floor.

“Hnnngh..” He whines, starting to pick up his thrashing and wailing from earlier.

“Hush, my little boy, let Mommy take care of you.”

“M’ dizzy…” He fusses. “Everything’s spinning…”

“I know baby, I know. Let’s get you in your PJ’s, okay?” You hush him a little bit before helping him off the ground and settting him back on the bed. It was a struggle, but you got his pants and shirt off. Now the task was to replace them with his nighttime ones. You take one leg of the pants, grab his leg, and slide it in.

“Good job, Jamie! Now your right leg!” You praise your little boy. He giggles when his pants are all the way on, and doesn’t even fuss when you put his shirt on for him.

“Perfect… now let Mommy get changed and then we can go sleepies, okay?”

He fussed, but you got changed in no time, and his fussing quickly became coos of happiness once you cradled him in your arms.

“My little baby.” You fawn. “Your mommy’s boy aren’t you?”

Bucky’s eyes flutter, as he tries to stay awake. His baby blues are glossy and clouded from the substance earlier.

“Mmm… uh-huh! M’mommy’s boy! Mommy’s goodest boy!”

“Yeah, except for earlier. What did I tell you about drinking that much alcohol? You know your little mind can’t take it.” You scold, and he pouts up at you.

“Sammy was watchin’ me! But then he drank some too, ‘n we-” His hiccups interrupts him.

“W-we made a stupid bet. Who could drink the mostest, ‘n I won.” He giggles at that last part, obviously proud of himself for beating Sam at literally anything.

You were about to respond when you noticed his eyes flutter. His metal fingers tug on your tank top—you already know what that means by now.

“Awh my baby’s hungry! You hungry, sweetheart?” You coo at him in the softest tone possible. He does nothing but nod, his words are becoming little to none—indicating that he was deep in.

“Go ahead, Jamie. You can have some, mommy doesn’t mind.”

You help him out a bit by tugging down the top yourself, your leaking tits out for Bucky to suckle on. He wastes no time, immediately latching his pink lips on your right nipple. His suckles were harsh and rapid. All he wanted right now was to taste your sweet nectar. A few strokes to the scalp and he’s almost out—his stamina completely gone from earlier.

You praise your little baby. Whispering to him all of the things he loved to hear. Calling him all of the names he loved to be called while in his little space.

The meekest whines and whimpers come from him as he suckled more frantically. As time went on he became frustrated—frustrated at the fact that he was too exhausted to keep going.

“Shh, it’s okay. I know… your so exhausted, hm? So exhausted from having so much fun earlier?”

You stroke his scalp with your fingers, keeping the movements slight and slow for him. Bucky could never describe it, but there was always a certain tactic, or pattern in which you’d scratch his scalp that made him feel so innocent. So vulnerable.

You know this, You know what touching Bucky’s hair does to him, what it does to him when he’s completely reliant and under your control.

“I’ve got you, Bucky Bear. Hush now.”

Bucky eventually quiets down, and so do his suckles on your nipple. He lets your nipple fall free from his mouth, some milk dripping down his parted lips. You wipe it off gently.

“Mommy m-mines?” He whimpers. “All mines?” He nuzzles himself into your chest, the warmth of your body and vibration of your voice as you cooed to him always calms him down.

“All yours, honey.”

850 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 2 years

Note

Thot of the day: reader is obsessed with Eddie's lips, she has the biggest fattest crush on him, maybe he's a costumer in her cafe, they often speak/flirt and she watches him greedily, thinking about what those lips could do on her. She often fantasizes about making him sucking her fingers while she rides him. Well, she's determined to make him hers 🫠

Combined with this anon req:

Hello hello hello! I love your blog! may I please request a little smutty thing of Eddie losing his mind over fem reader having a tongue piercing when she's going down on him?

I took some liberties and made some changes so Eddie is more subby; hope that's okay!

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected p in v (wrap it up pls), teeny mention of breeding kink, subby!Eddie

WC: 2.5k

Eddie hadn’t even meant to meet you.

He’d only stumbled into the café in a feeble attempt to get out of the pouring rain after the wind snapped his umbrella inside out. The goal was to get to the nearest McDonald’s for lunch, since he’d forgotten his sandwich at home, but the weather had other plans.

“Shit shit shit,” he’d muttered, shaking out the umbrella haphazardly before giving up and chucking it in the trash. There was no way he was walking anywhere else, so he wiped his hands on his jeans—which were now stuck to his thighs—and approached the counter to get a better look at the menu.

“What can I get for you?” A voice greeted him, coming out from behind the espresso machine. You gave him a small smile as you grabbed a notepad to jot down his order.

“Um,” Eddie’s full attention was on you, rather than his food options. “Do you serve coffee here?”

You gestured at the bags of coffee beans lining the counter. “What gave it away?” you’d asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

He could smack himself—it’s a café, of course there’s coffee. “I mean, I’ll have a large coffee, cream and sugar.” That’s what Wayne gets whenever they go to the diner, so he chooses the same.

“Mhm,” you hummed, raising your eyebrows. “Anything to eat?” You pointed to the small chalkboard hanging behind you. “If you need help sounding out any of the words, let me know.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Are you calling me dumb?” he’d balked. “What kind of customer service is this?” But he was smiling, and his silly, overly dramatic nature had you giggling.

That’s when he saw it.

The black stud, perfectly adorning the center of your tongue. It flicked against your teeth as you’d told him, “the chicken pesto panini is my favorite.” There was no response from the curly-haired metalhead before you. You’d squinted slightly, waving your hand in front of his face. “Hello? You good?”

“Wha—oh, yeah,” he’d stammered bashfully, breaking from his trance. “I’ll have that, then. The, uh, the chicken thing.”

“So, one coffee and one chicken thing?” you’d teased him. “And who’s this for?”

Eddie furrows his brows in confusion. “It’s for me?” It comes out as a question.

“And does ‘me’ have a name?” You laughed again. He didn’t even care that you were laughing at him, not with him. He’d say or do nearly anything to get a glimpse of your tongue and that godforsaken piercing.

“Oh, uh, Eddie. Eddie is my name,” he says lamely.

“Eddie. Got it.” You’d written his name on the side of the Styrofoam cup in permanent marker. He’d felt himself stiffen against his zipper when you’d said his name aloud. He wanted to hear you moan it, scream it, over and over.

From that moment on, Eddie is totally smitten. He stops by the café for his coffee every morning on his way to work at the record store. The burgeoning caffeine addiction is worth getting to talk to you for just a few seconds.

After a week of flustered half-conversations, he finally works up the nerve to ask you an actual question.

“Are you from around here? Like, from Hawkins?” It’s clunky and awkward, but it’s a start.

“Kinda?” You chuckle at his puzzled expression. “I lived here until my parents divorced when I was fourteen, right before I started high school. Then I went to live with my dad in Chicago until I started college last year.”

“That’s cool–I mean, it’s not cool that your parents split up, that sucks, but it’s cool that you lived in Chicago and go to college and stuff.” Good God, stop talking, Eddie wills himself, practically clamping his lips shut in an attempt to cut off his babbling. “What brings you back?”

You give an exasperated sigh. “My mom insisted I spend the summer with her; she wants to ‘reconcile our misgivings’ or whatever bullshit line Oprah fed her.” Eddie takes note of your eye roll when you speak about your mother. “So she set me up with this job while she drags me to family therapy once a week.” You pull a cup from the pile in front of you. “Your usual?”

“Yeah,” he says distractedly, trying to find another topic to keep the conversation from ending. “Where do you go to college?”

Your smile melts him, and he has to grip the counter to keep his knees from buckling. “The Pratt Institute. It’s in New York City,” you elaborate.

Eddie’s jaw drops. “No fuckin’ way!” he exclaims. “I’ve always wanted to go to New York, but to actually live there? That’s fuckin’ awesome!”

“My mom wasn’t thrilled,” you confess through gritted teeth. “She never liked that I wanted to pursue art as a career. It was always, ‘make it a hobby so you can get a real job.’” You slide his cup towards him. “It’s like, she disapproves of everything that I do: what I study, friends I hang out with, people I’ve dated.”

“Are you seeing anyone now?” The question spills out before he can think it through, hoping you don’t pick up on his eagerness.

You shake your head. “Single as ever,” you reply chipperly. “Why, you putting in an application?” Your tongue sneaks past your teeth, just enough to show off the piercing.

A blush creeps into Eddie’s cheeks at your proposition. “Maybe? If you’re interested? If not, I can just pay for my coffee and go.”

You tilt your head, musing his proposition. “I’d be lying if I said I was looking for something serious right now,” you begin, watching his shoulder sag dejectedly, “but my boss doesn’t get here for another hour, if you wanna fool around in the back?”

Eddie’s eyes almost pop out of his head. “You wanna fool around…with me?” He doesn’t wait for your response as he hoists himself over the counter, knocking over the stack of cups and the basket of sugar packets. “I’ll clean that up later,” he mumbles, dragging you to the door marked “employees only.”

His hands are relentless, like he can’t decide where to put them first. First, he cups your cheeks as he presses his lips to yours, but determines that that’s too intimate for the occasion. He brings his palms up your shirt, messily groping at your tits through your bra. “S’perfect,” he growls as he bites your neck. You can feel him twitching in his jeans, and you grind up against him. The groan that leaves his mouth is downright pornographic.

Your tongues intertwine as he pushes you against the door. He tastes like stale cigarettes and the sip of coffee he just had. His knee instinctively slips between your legs, angled perfectly for you to rub yourself on it.

“You ever get head from someone with a tongue piercing before?” When he shakes his head dumbly, you take the opportunity to continue taunting him. “Oh, sweet boy; have you ever gotten head from anyone before?”

“N-No,” Eddie admits. “But I’d like to change that.”

You giggle at his candid confession, fingers toying with his belt buckle. He hisses at the mere brush of your hands against his clothed erection. Pulling his pants and boxers down as you drop to your knees, you watch in awe as his thick cock smacks against his stomach, leaving a pre-cum stain on his Dio shirt. “Damn, these Hawkins girls don’t know what they’re missing,” you tell him. You lean over, spitting on his pink tip and collecting the saliva back in your mouth as you lick up his shaft.

The piercing feels like absolute heaven on the ridges of his dick. You trace along the vein as you take as much of him in your mouth as you can. He’s huge.

“Holy shit, holy fuckin’ shit,” Eddie breathes, digging his ringed fingers into your hair. “Please keep going, please please please.”

Never one to turn down the chance to torture, you let go of his cock with a pop. “What was that, baby?” You give a mischievous smirk.

Eddie looks like he’s about to cry at the loss of contact. “No, don’t stop; need you,” he whines, jutting out his lower lip reflexively.

“Well, why didn’t you just say so?” You take him back in your mouth, sucking him off while playing with his balls. He’s not expecting that, and he bucks his hips into you, making you gag.

“‘M sorry,” he whispers, pulling back slightly to let you breathe. “Didn’t mean to…” He spins a ring on his finger anxiously.

“Maybe I like choking on you,” you murmur, grasping his softening length in your lithe fingers and pumping it, watching it stiffen in your hand. “You know what else I’d like?” He hums his response. “I’d like you to cum in my mouth. Y’think you can do that for me?”

You’re shocked when he shakes his head no. “I don’t wanna cum yet,” he mumbles, hoping you’ll get the hint. “Tryna hold out so, y’know…”

You lick your lips and sneer. “Honey, I bet you can get it back up in under five minutes, if that.” Swirling your tongue over his angry red tip, and grabbing his thighs, you bring him to his climax. He spills into your mouth, moaning your name so loudly you’re worried a rogue customer might hear.

Eddie gently withdraws, and you part your lips to show him his cum on your tongue. The black stud makes the perfect centerpiece as you swallow his load.

A string of his cum lingers on your pointer and middle fingers. You consider it for a moment before bringing it to his lips. “You should taste yourself, Eddie,” you murmur. “Taste s’fucking good.” He opens his mouth obediently, sucking on your fingers harshly. His tongue tickles against them, and you shiver.

“You’re…oh my God,” he manages. “Is it too forward to say that you’re perfect?”

“I don’t care what you say, as long as you fuck me right now,” you growl into his ear. You can’t act like he’s the only needy one any longer. Ever since he’d walked into the café, drenched from the rain, you’d wanted him. Wanted his soft, pillowy lips on yours. Wanted him to sink his teeth into your skin until he left marks. Wanted him inside you, filling you up completely.

He nods his head, but the rest of his body seems to freeze in place. He snaps out of it as you bring his hands to the button on your skirt, quickly using his thick fingers to strip you of it and revealing black lace underwear. He practically falls to his knees, kissing your wet pussy through the cloth.

“You’re fucking soaked.” Eddie can’t hide the awe in his voice, tugging at the fabric so roughly that it rips. “Oh, shit. ‘M sorry.”

“No, that was really hot,” you tell him breathlessly, mindlessly bringing your middle finger to your throbbing clit. Eddie pushes it away, running his tongue along your folds. He’s eager but timid, so you encourage him. “Fuck me with your tongue, baby. Oh, that’s it—right there,” you wail as he finds your hole. His thumb is rubbing frantic circles on your sensitive bud, not stopping until you cum so hard, your toes curl.

“Fuck—yes—Eddie—I’m coming—f’you,” you manage, throwing your head back and biting your fist to muffle your screams. Sweat drips down the side of Eddie’s neck. “Worked so hard for me, didn’t you?” you coo, resuming your dominance. “C’mere; you ready to cum again?” His boner speaks for itself, twitching up against him.

You lean your stomach against the cool countertop, mentally reminding yourself to sanitize it tonight. “‘S not ideal, but it’ll do,” you say. A lot of people want their first time to be in a bed, or on a beach, gazing lovingly into their partner’s eyes. Well, Eddie Munson was going to lose his virginity by fucking you from behind in the café kitchen, but you doubt he’s complaining.

“I d-don’t have, um, protection.” He winces at his awkwardness, massaging the nape of his neck.

“Relax. I’m on the pill.” When he shoots you a dubious glance, you laugh. “Do I look like I wanna have your babies?” His eyebrows raise at the thought of it. “Oookay, we’ll unpack that another time. For right now, for the love of God, put your dick inside me.”

“Yes ma’am.” Eddie sets himself behind you, sliding into your waiting pussy. “So tight; takin’ me so good.” He pinches his face together in ecstasy.

You press your palms into the counter. “Harder. I l-like it rough.” He takes direction well, pistoning into you and grabbing your ponytail. “Yes, Eddie. Pull my hair. Fucking yank it.” You clench around his length as you feel the familiar strain on your scalp.

“Can’t—hold—out,” Eddie groans. He wants to make you cum again, but his orgasm is just too close, and he finds himself spilling into you for the second time today. “Thassit. Take it. Take my cum, just like that.” He keeps thrusting even as he gets softer, fucking his seed into you. When he comes down from the high, he’s immediately embarrassed. “You didn’t get to—”

But he’s interrupted by the sound of the bell jingling, signaling an incoming customer. “Y/N? Where are you, dear?” a voice calls out.

Eddie knows that voice. He knows it all too well.

You roll your eyes. “Ugh, my mom’s here. I forgot she said she was gonna visit me at work today.” You pull your skirt back up to your waist, fasten it quickly, and secure your hair back in its tie.

Your…mom? But that sounded like…

Without thinking, Eddie follows you, adjusting himself and fixing his belt as he walks. There’s no way…

“Edward? I didn’t know you worked here with my daughter!”

You turn to Eddie, confused. “How do you know my mom?”

But the older woman answers for him. “Oh, we know each other very well. Mr. Munson took English with me three times over. Isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, Mrs. O’Donnell,” he replies miserably. “But I finally graduated this year.”

“And thank God for that,” Mrs. O’Donnell scoffs. “Do me a favor and stay away from my daughter. She doesn’t need any more bad influences in her life.”

Something comes over Eddie—maybe it’s his pure rage towards his former teacher; maybe it’s the confidence he feels from losing his virginity—but he steps closer to you and grabs your ass through your skirt. “Not a problem. I think my work here is done, anyway.”

Mrs. O’Donnell practically faints on the spot. “What—what do you—oh, for heaven’s sake, please don’t tell me you two are dating.”

“Oh, no, we’re not dating,” you smirk, waiting for her to relax before dropping the bomb: “We’re just sleeping together.”

Eddie grins, leaning over to kiss you possessively. “See you tomorrow? Same time and place?” He winks at Mrs. O’Donnell, still in shock from your blunt admission. “Don’t worry; I passed sex ed the first time.”

#eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #fanfic #requests

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dejwritesarchived · 2 years

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ wet dreams⠀ 〳 ⠀ t.yuushi ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) could you imagine having a wet dream about your hot neighbor?

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy described, her/she pronouns, written with black reader in mind, pet names (good girl), oral fixation, oral (f.receiving), dirty talk, biting kink, backshots/doggystyle position, spanking, anal play (i mean he put a thumb in it that's it), marking kink, profanity, i think we should write smut about men in explicit mangas some more, mentions of a wet dream, wet dream is in italics, slight pervert!reader, this been in my drafts since august lol, i colored the header lol, @eiflawriting gave me the idea so i ran with it, minors dni pls !

YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT STARE AT HIM WHEN YOU SAW HIM. You remembered how your eyes lit up with curiosity seeing him move into the apartment next to yours. An apartment with many tenants who moved in and soon quickly moved out. A rumor traveled around that a ghost resided in that apartment, but you never cared to gossip about said rumor. You just went to work and came home. It was a sad cycle that you’ve done Monday through Friday. Occasionally when you would be leaving for work, you'd see him. The bags under his eyes are as heavy as he’s taking his trash out to put into the apartment’s trash bin. His whole demeanor oozed sex appeal even though he would be the type of man your parents would usher you to stay away from.

He was a handsome man, and when you laid down to sleep, you only seethed in jealousy, hearing faint moans through the thin walls. A regular neighbor would march over and bang on the door to tell their neighbor to keep it down—but with you, it felt like your body was stuck. You stared at the ceiling indulging in the sound of the way he pleasured this woman. That jealous pit twists in your stomach, realizing that you have most likely been crushing on a taken man this whole time. But it didn’t make sense, you hadn’t seen a woman enter or exit his place when you were around. Either or, you still thought that it should have been you to have the privilege of cooing out his name the way this woman was.

You could do better. You know you can.

You may have been in a significant drought, but you were positive your plush lips could kiss him better. Your mouth could wrap around his cock better. You could move your hips while riding him better. But then again, this woman had to have something you didn’t if he was making her feel like this every night.

You took your pillow over your head to scream into it. The heated feeling between your thighs caused you to roll over on your side to force yourself to sleep. You were only torturing yourself by continuing to be a pervert and listening to him pleasure another woman. Before you could utter a string of complaints to yourself, your body finally relaxed for you to fall into a deep slumber—a poor attempt at ignoring the walls through the paper-thin walls.

Your body stirred in your sleep as you felt something under the thin lilac-colored duvet that covered your body. You felt something wet upon your thighs as if somebody was nibbling on the flesh on the inside area of your thighs. You attempted to squirm tiredly, but the grip upon you grew tighter. With your hand rubbing the sleep out of your eye, you lifted the duvet, and your eyes nearly bulged out your head seeing him. His eyes filled with so much hunger it sent a chill down your spine. With the oversized t-shirt you usually sleep in pushed up to your waist, you watched as the flat of his tongue glided upward and downward on the clothed part of where your pussy lips were. Even though your underwear was blocking the pleasure feeling of his tongue—you still felt yourself grow wet at the feeling.

Your next-door neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi didn’t waste any time dragging your fusion-colored panties down your smooth legs to get a taste of you. The flat of his tongue dragged across your puffy pussy lips just to finally relinquish in the taste of you. His darkened eyes met with yours through the little light that shimmered through the window from the moon. You relaxed in his touch as soon as you felt the first flicker on your clit. Your breathing hitches in your throat before you cough up moans and your fingers tangle into his black hair. Before your eyes lolly in the back of your head, the last glimpse you got was of Totsumoto’s eyes shifting close as he finally wanted to focus on his main task.

Totsumoto’s tongue glides around the entrance of your drooling cunt, and he even could feel you clench, feeling him teasing you. Your thighs were seizing close due to the intense feeling of him between your thighs, but he just pinned them back open. You even heard him moan as he continued to eat his meal. He didn’t leave a drop of slick for him not to savor. The blood rushing to his cock with each kitten lick he’s making on your pussy or each flicker and suck on your sensitive bud. Your juices stained his face, but he could care less when it was a mouthwatering meal right before him.

Your body arched off the mattress as you failed to run away from your pending orgasm. Your stomach began to form the most satisfying knots for Totsumoto to untie, but he pulled it away. He shortly let his lips drag kisses and bites on the inside of your thighs. He removed himself away from your pussy with a satisfying pop.

“I want you to cum on this dick, Y/N.” His voice rasps. “I know you want the same thing, right?” Totsumoto tilts his head to the side slightly as if he’s letting his head rest on your bite marks-covered thigh, and his eyes never stop looking at you.

Totsumoto’s words hit you like a truck with each continued kiss and bite. Your brain felt like complete mush as you realized he snatched your orgasm away from you in the blink of an eye. With his cock on hard, he kisses up your body until his face is just inches away from yours. Him being on top of you but also sure not to squash you. You could feel his cock on the inside of your thigh. Just by how it felt—you could tell it was fat. You’ve had your perverted thoughts during a hot morning imagining how his cock looked. Was it long? Was it girthy? Was he circumcised? How pretty was the tip? You’ve asked yourself that constantly.

He’ll inch closer to your lips. Through your stare of desperation for him, you watched him lick his lips—savoring in the aftertaste of your pussy before he spoke once more, “How’d you want it? Since you’ve been a good girl while I was between your thighs….”

Teasingly, he’s letting his teeth nibble on your plump lower lip instead of giving you the satisfaction of a heated kiss.

“I’ll let you choose.” He adds.

And that’s how you whine up on all fours with a perfect arch and your cunt eager to swallow Totsumoto’s cock. You figured that if you were to do missionary, you’d become cock drunk for the gentleman immediately. His callous hands grabbed at your waist, dragging you closer to him; you could feel the tip of his cock brushing against your entrance. “Just relax, pretty, sure you fit around me perfectly,” Totsumoto assured.

He’s collecting saliva in his hand to coat his girthy cock with, even though he could see how wet you were for him through his dark locs that fell in his face. His hand gripped your waist, similar to how a person would with some bike handles. He completely braced himself for the waterfall he was about to experience. First, he’s shoving his tip in—slowly, just so you can get used to it, savor it. A wonderful feeling he could get used to. Second, he’s gradually shoving move of his cock inside you. This time he’s taking note of how your manicured fingers grasped at the sheets.

“I thought you could take my cock, hm?” He’ll teasingly ask.

You couldn’t even answer his question before he’s immediately plowing forward. No regard for getting used to his size when the wet cunt in between your thighs was enthusiastic for more. You’ll moan out his name like a song you knew from heart. The lewd sound of heated skin slapping against each other adding on to your tune of moans. It created a sweet melody that Totsumoto enjoyed hearing. It motivated him to fuck just a little better, a little harder.

Your pillow was beginning to stain with your salty tears with each ram of his hips. You only had the opportunity to let out broken moans that bounced upon the thin walls of your bedroom. Your hand went back behind you to slow down his abrupt thrusting, but that only led to him swatting your hand away as if it were a fruit fly flying around a garbage can. At this point, you had lost count of how many times the two of you had cum. The sticky mess that imprinted your thighs didn’t stop Totsumoto from continuing what he was doing. The white ring that decorated his cock only turned him on even more. His eyes lazily droop to gaze at your pussy, swallowing his cock. It was an intoxicating feeling how you were clutching around him. Which each pull back on his cock—he could feel you tremble. Hurriedly, wanting to run away from his jabs but ever so eager for him to fill you up some more.

“You were waiting to feel my cock weren’t you?” He growled lowly. He noticed you didn’t answer his question, only purring out desperate moans. The dark-haired male took that as a challenge. His large hands that once were on your plush love handles would press down your back, ensuring that you wouldn’t break the perfect arch.

Totsumoto’s fingertips trace alongside the flesh of your ass. His hand slaps at it, and his actions' ripple effect causes his cock to twitch inside you. His body felt like he was running a fever so hot that he could most likely faint. His jet-black strands of hair were sticking to his sweat-coated forward, but even if his hair drooped low in front of his intoxicating deadpan eyes—he still couldn’t take them away from the mess between the two of your bodies. His strokes were beginning to grow sloppy as his body finally overheated due to his lewd actions.

You knew that the older gentleman was so close to cumming. His grip on your waist tightens, completely entrapping you from running away from his brash thrusting. It took you by shock feeling his thumb insert instantly into your asshole. Your body tensed up, and he leaned down to place the sloppiest set of kisses on your back. “It’s just a thumb unless you want it to be something else.” He hungrily said.

His words sent a frightening yet exhilarating chill down your spine. Your fingers grasped the crumpled sheets on your mattress as you met his thrusting halfway until the both of you were a cumming mess. You’ve had your fair share of sleeping with men. From horrible hookups to the best lovemaking, no one ever made you feel like this when you were orgasming. You felt like you were on the highest cloud attempting to climb down all by yourself. Your limbs quivered with each sloppy cum coated slam upon your ass, and your moans became so frantic that someone would have thought you were speaking in tongue. The messy mess that imprinted the two of your skin wasn’t as bad as the mess when his cock hesitantly removed itself from you. Totsumoto’s thick cum dripped out of your cunt as he let your body collapse on the mattress below you like a personal used fleshlight. You could hear his breathing returning to normal as he let his fingertips drag alongside your sweat-coated body parts.

“Sleep tight. You’re going to need it for when I return.” His words came out like a whisper.

When his fingertips left your body, you felt cold without his touch. You were utterly addicted to his touch, and you needed more. However, your shaken limbs and depleted body said otherwise.

Exhaustion overcame your body as the only thing that could be heard in the room was the sound of you trying to control your breathing. Your eyes became droopy, and you realized that he just gave you the best dick you could imagine, that you instantly fell into a deep slumber.

The annoying sound of your alarm caused your eyes to open instantly. Your phone was practically yelling at you to get up to start your day. When you pressed the snooze button on your phone, you glanced at the time. You still have a couple more minutes—perhaps you can attempt to fall asleep to continue the dream. Your panties already were damp, and your nipples hardened in anticipation due to it, but no matter how comfortable you got or how tightly squeezed shut your eyes were—you couldn’t fall back into that deep slumber. There you were, staring at the ceiling, thinking about him, and once again, the horrible feeling of him not being able to pleasure you outside of your perverted wet dreams swirled around in your mind.

A knock could be heard from your front door, causing your thoughts to disappear— just like the dream you had last night. You climbed out of bed to answer the door, mumbling coherent words about who could be visiting you so early. It was most likely another salesman that wanted to sell something. You opened your front door, and all the annoyance in your body disappeared. There, your neighbor Totsumoto Yuushi stood at your door holding a box.

Your words were stuck in your throat as your fingers toyed with the ends of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. Totsumoto’s eyes traveled down your body, staring at your boobs, and he took a mental note of how your nipples poked through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing. He cleared his throat to clear out the tension in the air.

“The delivery guy put this outside my door, and it belongs to you.” Totsumoto’s deep voice croaked out.

“Thank you.” Your arms extended for him to drop the package in your arms.

Instead, he wiggled past the small gap between you and your cracked door and directly placed your package in your house. He walked out of your apartment and glanced down at you. The scent of him went by you, and you could feel your knees weaken.

“I’m going to get going now. If you need anything, just knock on my door.” His lips form a sly smile before he walks down to his apartment.

You closed the door when he was no longer in your eyesight. Your back pressed upon the door as you slowly slid down it—if only he could get you the one thing you wanted the most.

And that was for your wet dream to come true vividly.

TAGS — @eiflawriting @maydayaisha @rczc @woahhajime @sailewhoremoon @hellavile @si00p @exquisitenesss @plopifuee @prettyboyyuji @midoryiar @animepickle7 @1reversecowgirl @sunnytalia3 @sukunasfootrest @touyyes @atesumu @ladybugisland @chaiyuuuu @sleepy3

#manga x reader #manga smut #anime smut #anime x reader #totsumoto yuushi x reader #female reader #totsumoto yuushi smut #lady k and the sick man #lady k and the sick man smut #fem reader #x reader #black reader

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theharddeck · 2 years

Text

out of the blue, clear sky (chapter five) // Jake Seresin x Reader

Pairing: hangman x fem!reader (no y/n)

Synopsis: he kissed you, now what? aka Hangman and Kentucky have their first date

Warnings: 18+, minors please DNI – this is the chapter that has the whole fic marked as E. There is explicit oral (f receiving) and PiV sex, there's a praise kink, there's swearing, there's overstimulation that borders on dubcon so pls proceed with caution

Length: 8.9k

Tagging: @peakyrogers @winterrebel04 @blue-aconite @bioodforbiood @gigisimsonmars @kilojulietsierra @dempy @olliepig @double-j @blazinglioness @laracrofted @javihoney @smoothdogsgirl @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @thedroneranger @wildbornsiren @loveforaugust @lgg5989

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

You were a ridiculous cliche.

One kiss from Jake Seresin and you’d become the girl who woke up with a stupid smile on her face.

You pressed your fingers over your eyes and gave yourself a moment to be giddy before you pushed yourself out of bed. You shook your head at your reflection as you brushed your teeth, feeling like a clinique commercial as you washed your face. No one should look this happy with water all over the sink, yet here you were.

You stopped yourself from humming as you let yourself out of your room and made your way down the hall to the kitchen. As you got closer, you heard something of a rustling around; you broke into a jog when a dull crash echoed from the room.

You swung the kitchen door open and Jake looked guiltily at you, from behind the hand he had clasped over his mouth, his other hand across his chest, holding his elbow.

A quick glance at the kitchen showed no blood, no shattered glass or ceramics, just a broken shelf and a pile of tupperware and paper-wrapped food.

“How are we doing in here?” you asked, shutting the door behind you.

“In my defense,” Jake said, his words muffled by his hand before he stoically removed it to draw in a deep breath, “these shelves are a lot weaker than they look.”

You crossed the kitchen, coming to a stop in front of the counter with your shoulder next to Jake’s, surveying the mess on the counter.

“Astonishingly enough,” you said, starting to sort the carnage into piles, “barrack standard shelving isn’t made to withstand a grown man putting his weight on it.”

“That’s not what I was doing,” Jake grumbled, but you could hear the smile on his voice.

You pulled out one of the drawers to reveal an under-cabinet trash can, sweeping the spilled hot chocolate and splenda into it with the side of your hand.

“And what was it,” you asked, “that were you doing?”

Jake grabbed a paper towel and dampened it under the tap, following your rudimentary sweep with a more thorough pass. “Was looking for that weird kettle thing.”

The cabinet door slammed and you realized too late that you’d meant to catch it, to ease its closure, but Jake’s words had surprised you.

“You were looking for the moka pot?” you asked, making sure.

Jake’s nose wrinkled slightly, and he leaned the remnants of the broken shelf against the backsplash, before opening some other cabinets interestedly.

“Thanks for helping clean that up,” he said into one of the shelves, and you nodded, even though he wasn’t looking back to see.

You thought about teasing him, but the way he was currently hiding his face in another cabinet told you that wasn’t the best idea. So you wordlessly went to under the sink, where you knew the moka pot was stored. You started making your coffee and turning on the larger batch for the rest of the squad, waiting for Jake to come out of hiding.

It took a couple minutes, but by the time the pot was on the stove along with the saucepan for the milk, he’d closed the cabinets and was leaning against the counter. He did remember where the french press was, and slid that down the counter to you, and you smiled at him briefly, appreciative.

He ran a hand through his hair, sticking it up on end, and his sigh seemed extra loud around the kitchen.

“Help you with something, Hangman?” you asked.

His hand fell and he crossed his arms, pulling the sweatshirt he wore tight across his chest. “I was supposed to be doing that,” he mumbled, and you looked up from where you were checking the espresso.

“Making coffee?” you asked, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say the man was pouting.

“Yeah,” he said, unhelpfully.

“But you don’t drink coffee,” you said, remembering what Phoenix and Rooster had said last week.

“Yeah, but it’d be thoughtful and shit, if I made it for you how you liked it.” He winced, looking over his shoulder at the broken shelf. “Didn’t work out so great.”

Your heart flipped.

But you kept your expression neutral as you pulled the moka pot off the stove, pouring the dark espresso into a mug, steam curling up towards you. You frothed the oat milk, stopping when you were satisfied with the foam, and added it to the mug.

“I’m pretty particular, Jake,” you said, thoughtfully. “I like what I like, the way that it is. Not because of how it might be.”

You stirred some cinnamon into the foam, and looked up at Jake, finding him watching you intently. You blew on the top of your latte, holding his eyes as his tongue darted out to wet his lips.

“Please tell me that’s an analogy.”

You smiled, taking a sip of the latte. It was sweet, perfect temperature, perfect period. “It’s an analogy,” you affirmed.

He nodded, but he still didn’t look relaxed. You turned and slid down the counter so you were next to him, resting your head on his upper arm, leaning into him. You felt him tense up, surprised by the contact, but his arm was warm and you hummed contentedly.

Your eyes closed and you took another sip of your latte. Was this the perfect morning? Jake next to you, warm coffee in your hands, in a quiet kitchen before everyone else got up?

“I appreciate the thought,” you said, voice gentler than you meant for it to be, “but you don’t have to do anything like that. You know that, right?”

Jake’s pause was too long.

You opened your eyes, pulling back to look up at him.

“You know that,” you repeated, “right?”

Jake shook his head, his cheeks dimpling though he wasn’t fully smiling. “I know that that’s what you think,” he said carefully, and you frowned.

“Not good enough,” you told him, simply.

He smiled with his teeth, shaking his head again, and you knew he was going to dismiss it.

“You have foam on your face,” he said.

You rolled your eyes at his obvious topic change, running your tongue over your upper lip, raising your eyebrows to ask if you got it. Jake’s eyes followed the motion, and his smile shifted to something warmer, as he brought a hand up to your face.

You couldn’t stop your eyes from fluttering as he brushed his thumb over your lips, but then you heard a sound that made you open them again. Jake’s eyes were dark as he licked the foam off his thumb, and your breath caught at the sensuality of the motion, his mouth closing over the pad of his finger that had just been on your lips.

You took another sip of your latte, your eyes not leaving his, and you made no move to lick away the foam that clung to your upper lip.

“Christ,” he muttered, as he reached for the latte, taking it out of your hands and setting it on the counter behind you as he moved to stand in front of you. His hand returned to the side of your neck, fingers curling around the back of it as he tilted your head back to look at him, making the desire in his eyes impossible to miss.

When his mouth crashed into against yours, you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped you, as his tongue lapped up the foam. He sucked, lightly, his mouth warm and determined, pulling at something deep in you. He licked at you, teasing and light and perfect, and when he pulled back, his pupils were dilated.

“I’m always gonna regret that you initiated our first kiss,” he mused quietly, and the hand around the back of your neck tightened, a grounding pressure, as something fluttered in your chest at his words. Always was a long time, and he said first like it was an occasion, like there would be countless more to follow.

“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” you managed to say, your voice breathless, and ending on a squeak when Jake surged forward to kiss you again.

There was nothing sweet about this kiss, the way Jake’s mouth moved over you hungrily, firmly, like he was determined to do it properly this time. He tasted slightly minty, probably toothpaste, and his tongue swept inside your mouth in a way that had your back bending over the counter. You were glad he’d taken the mug out of your hands because it meant they were free to run over him, feeling soft cotton over hard muscles, warm and pressing into you eagerly. Jake made a sound low in his throat when your hands latched onto his waist, and you pulled him closer to you, loving the heady combination of the press of his body and the way his lips worked over yours.

For a senseless moment, you considered jumping up on the counter behind you, to give him better access and your legs a rest, since they felt suddenly weak. But an automatic beep sounded from the communal coffee pot and Jake groaned quietly, pulling back. He didn’t go far, pressing gentle, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw, and giving you a chance to catch your breath. His mouth was curious, exploring, and his tongue laved over your skin in a way that had you pushing at his shoulders, knowing if you kept going, you wouldn’t want him to stop.

Jake drew in a deep breath through his nose, letting you push him away. His hand was still on your neck, pressing soothingly into the tense muscle between your neck and your shoulders, and his expression caused your heartbeat to stutter.

He looked fond.

He looked simply happy, he looked like you wanted to tell Maverick that you couldn’t fly today because all you wanted to do was stare at that contented expression on Jake’s face.

Jake’s hand loosened on your neck and he drew it down your back regretfully, knowing you were on borrowed time.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he said softly, his eyes bright with conviction even as you shook your head that he was the pretty one, like this.

You heard a door close down the hallway and Jake held your eyes for a moment longer before he stepped away from you, reaching around you to grab your latte, and put it in your hands. You appreciated the space—not only because it meant you stood a chance at breathing normally, but also because you two were still figuring out what this was between you, and you didn’t need an audience for it.

He leaned back against the counter, where he’d been before the foam situation, his shoulder almost touching yours.

“Let me take you out to dinner,” Jake asked, another question that wasn’t technically one, and you looked over at him sharply.

“That is a very big thing to ask so casually,” you hissed, hearing footsteps getting louder down the hall.

“Is it?” Jake smirked, his voice amused. He filled a glass with water from the tap, leaning back calmly when the door swung open.

Payback stopped short when he came into the room, his eyebrows lowering suspiciously as he looked between the two of you.

You resisted the urge to fidget, or run your hand over your hair, but Jake looked cool as a cat when you glanced over at him out of the corner of your eye, raising his glass to Reuben like this was a normal morning.

Payback grinned widely.

“About damn time,” he said to Jake, and your jaw dropped as the tall pilot crossed the room to the coffee pot.

“What - we - I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sputtered, and Payback snorted as he poured himself some drip coffee.

“You’re gonna need to figure out how to lie more convincingly by the time Phoenix gets in here,” he said cheerily, and you pressed a hand over your eyes.

“I’m gonna go hide in my room,” you mumbled, and you could feel Jake’s shoulders shaking with silent laughter beside you. You didn’t look at either of them, embarrassment flaming your ears red as you stalked across the kitchen, your fingers curled around your latte.

“7 o’clock’s good for me,” Jake called after you, all pretense abandoned, and you flipped him off over your shoulder, for the audacity to not be flustered in front of Payback.

Thankfully it was a busy day, hectic enough that you could mute any nerves about tonight. Between trainings and briefings and drills, the hours flew by, and before you knew it, you were post-shower, wrapping yourself in a towel and staring at your closet, trying to figure out what the hell a girl was supposed to wear on a date with Jake Seresin.

Boots seemed too on the nose, and if you weren’t wearing them, you weren’t wearing a sundress.

Jeans would probably be fine, but they felt too casual–you’d been fantasizing enough about tonight for denim.

You were sliding hangers around the closet when you found it: the dress you’d gotten for a bachelorette party last year. It wasn’t your typical style, but it was special, which meant it was perfect for tonight.

You were proud of yourself for getting the dress over your shoulders and zipped without dislocating your shoulder.

The rest of the look came together quickly–your hair wasn’t dry yet, so up into a claw clip it went, some strappy heels because you’d bought them to go with the dress, and lip tint that you hoped worked as well as Natasha swore it did.

You didn’t have a full length mirror in your room, but you turned slightly in the mirror you did have, checking your reflection.

The black dress was simple, as black dresses ought to be, the high neckline and sensible length offsetting the fact that it sat tight against your skin. It wasn’t hiding anything, but you found that the parts it accentuated made up for the bits that would normally make you wish for shapewear. Your cheeks were flushed, but that was more from excitement than artfully applied blush, and you rubbed at your lower lip to see if the lip stain would budge.

You heard a soft knock on the door, and were relieved; there wasn’t much else in your appearance that was left for you to fuss over.

You crossed the room carefully, heels muffled by the carpet, and you paused before you opened the door.

When was the last time you’d felt this way before a first date?

Nervous and excited, and downright giddy, you shook your hands out loosely, telling yourself to get a grip, when you saw the shadow under your door shifting.

“I know,” Jake said, his voice muffled but intentional, like he knew you were on the other side of the thin door, “I feel it, too.”

“I don’t believe it for a minute,” you said, pressing a hand over your chest to still your racing heartbeat, and you opened the door.

And, honestly, fuck Jake Seresin.

He looked like he stepped out of a Netflix romcom, standing in your hallway with a bouquet of coral roses wrapped in brown paper. He was wearing dark jeans, ostrich leather cowboy boots, and a wool blazer that you just knew smelled amazing, and he was looking at you like he’d never seen you before.

“Believe it,” he said, his voice sounding lower than normal, or maybe just huskier.

You found yourself torn between rolling your eyes and blushing, and you were pretty sure you were doing both.

“You clean up good, Hangman,” you said, and he shook his head, looking down at you. With the hand that wasn’t holding the flowers, he raised a finger, making a gesture for you to twirl.

He looked good enough that you did it.

Turned a small circle in the hallway, as graceful as you could manage in the tight dress and heels and when you turned back to Jake, you were surprised to find his eyes on your face. Like he hadn’t even looked down, like he was content watching your expression as you indulged in a bit of fanfare over your appearance, like that was enough for him.

He smiled, cheeks lifting as his dimples deepened, and he lifted the flowers towards you.

“You look beautiful,” he said simply, and your heart just melted. Flowers and compliments were like textbook Charmer, but it didn’t seem like an act, not from Jake.

“You do too,” you told him, honestly, taking the flowers. “And these are gorgeous.”

Jake clasped a hand over his chest dramatically. “I’ve been outranked by perennials,” he complained. “Demoralizing.”

“It’s good for your ego, every now and then," you said, holding the door open with your foot as you stepped back into your room. "Come in, while I find some water for these?”

You left the door to swing shut, and there was a delay before it closed, so you assumed Jake had followed you. You hadn’t really considered him here, in your space, and it was a lot to process. You didn’t have a vase, but you had an empty nalgene, so you filled it from the tap in the bathroom, emptied the plant food packet into it, and dropped the roses in. It didn’t look perfect, but they were so pretty, and you knew they’d make you smile when you looked at them.

You tilted your head, a memory flitting through your head of cotillions and unspoken flirtations.

“What do coral roses mean?” you asked, turning back to Jake.

He was still by the door, leaning against it with his shoulder, his thumbs through his belt loops as he watched you.

“Depends who you ask,” he said, noncommittal, and you wondered if the light was off in your room, because you thought there might be a tinge of red high on his cheeks.

You fluffed the roses in the water bottle, turning them slightly on your dresser and walking over to the door.

“What’d your mamma teach you?” you asked, playing a hunch, and the face Jake made confirmed your suspicion-- he’d learned floriography from his socialite mother. “You don’t have to tell me.”

He shook his head, sheepish but not cowed. “Coral is for enthusiasm and desire,” he said, then pitched his voice higher, in a mimicry. “The perfect flower to impress a girl you want to take on more than a first date.”

It wasn’t the light in the room, he was definitely blushing a little.

You thought it was sweet, that for all his posturing, he would still take the time to do something like this right.

And he’d said it like it was commonplace, something he’d recognized years ago, like it wasn’t the first time someone had brought you flowers on a first date, much less roses, much less roses that meant excitement for possibilities. It made you want to frame his face in your hands and press kisses over the wrinkle in his forehead, the tip of his nose, down to his pursed lips.

Actually, you realized, there was no reason for you to not be doing that.

“Desire, hmm?” you asked, crossing the room slowly.

Jake’s eyes fell to the way your heels made your hips sway, and when his green eyes came back up to your face, his head fell back lightly against the door. He didn’t say anything, just watched you steadily as you got closer, and when you stopped in front of him, he reached for you, like it was natural.

His hands landed light on your waist, smoothing around to your lower back, very respectfully placed, but his touch was warm enough to make up for it. He pulled you slightly, and you were more than happy to lean against him, his body strong and stretched against yours, and you felt him sigh contentedly just before your lips met.

He kissed you slow, unhurried.

Not like last night when you’d both been overwhelmed, or this morning, when he’d had something to prove. This kiss felt luxurious, like Jake could’ve stayed in it for hours, learning all the ways his mouth could move over yours. One of his hands slid up your back to the back of your neck, and when he used his grip to angle you, you were happy to oblige. Your own hands couldn’t seem to decide where they liked best, running through his hair and then over his arms, reveling in the strength of him, even through the blazer.

Jake moaned into the kiss, and the sound literally made your knees weak.

You leaned heavily against him, your hands tightening on his shoulders, absolutely wrecked by the knowledge that this always-in-control, immutable, pilot would make a sound like that, for you.

“Damn, Kentucky,” Jake breathed, pulling back slightly. Your forehead was pressed against his cheek, your hands fisting in the wool of his blazer as you both breathed heavily. “Keep kissing me like that, and we’re not going to make it to dinner.”

You laughed weakly, uncurling your fingers and smoothing down the material from where you’d bunched it.

“Didn’t know that was an option,” you teased softly, as you pulled back, only to feel Jake’s hand tighten around your waist. You tipped your head up to look at him, and his green eyes were intense as they searched yours.

Then he smiled, softer and polite, as you watched him push the hunger out of his expression. His hand at the nape of your neck was gentle, a soft squeeze before he dropped it to his side.

“The options are whatever you want, sweetheart,” he said, the pet name slipping past his lips like it was the easiest thing.

There was a lot you wanted, in that moment.

A part of you was touched by the sweetness of his deferral, and a part of you wanted him to be honest with you, rather than palatable. You tilted your head to the side, lifting a hand to smooth down his hair from where it was sticking up. Jake’s eyes fluttered slightly as your fingers brushed against his scalp, and he swayed slightly towards you, his fingers tightening on your waist again.

“How good of reservations did you get?” you asked, guessing that if he got flowers, he’d also made a plan.

“We have two,” Jake mumbled, turning his head to prompt you to scratch a different part of it, “depending on how fancy you were feeling. I didn’t want to pick ahead of time and be wrong, so I got us a table at the steakhouse at the Del, or Nobu across the bay.”

You followed his direction, enjoying playing with his hair, and the fact that he couldn’t seem to keep his eyes open while you did it. “What if I hadn’t been feeling fancy at all?”

“Filippi’s,” he said, “in Little Italy. We don’t need a reservation, tables open up pretty quick.”

You hummed. “So, white tablecloth steakhouse, sushi in the Gaslamp, or pizza by wine-bottle candles?”

“Whichever sounds best to you,” Jake said.

You looked up at him, the steady rhythm of his chest as he breathed out slowly, the tightness of his jaw and the absolute slack of his shoulders. The man had made 3 plans for dinner, had brought you flowers...you knew what sounded best to you.

You curled your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly, and Jake’s lips parted as his eyes opened, looking down at you almost guiltily at the reaction you’d (quite literally) pulled out of him.

You smiled softly, nothing but pleased. “Okay, so I’ll take option one.”

“Sheerwater?” Jake asked, blinking slowly.

You shook your head, letting your hand run through his hair and curling it around the back of his neck, “Before that.”

Jake frowned, another slow blink, and as you were trying to figure out why it was so seductive when blinking’s something people do like 15,000 times a day, understanding washed across his face.

“You don’t want to go to dinner,” he said, not quite a question, but you knew he was waiting for your answer.

“We can go,” you said quickly, your lips suddenly feeling dry, “just…later.”

“How much later?” Jake asked, and his voice sounded so low, sending a shiver across your skin.

“I think that’s up to you,” you teased, which probably would’ve had more of an effect if you didn’t sound so breathless, “don’t you think?”

But apparently it was working for Jake, because in a moment, he’d pushed away from the door, turning you so your back was now against it, and he bent his head quickly to capture your lips in his again. He pulled your hips into his, and you loved how his hands felt splayed around your waist, like he wanted to feel as much of you as he could. He kissed you firmly, and you felt it all the way through your body.

“Two requests,” you managed, when you both came up for air.

“Name ‘em,” Jake said, and your heart twinged again, at the immediacy of the response. You smiled at him, sure he could see the fondness in your eyes, before you turned your back to him, your hands bracing against the door.

“I don’t want the dress to wrinkle,” you explained, “and the zipper’s a bitch. Will you help me out of it?”

You felt Jake sigh on a soft puff of warm air against your shoulders, and then he cleared his throat.

“Yeah, sweetheart,” he said, and you felt his hands settle at the top of the dress.

A moment later, you felt the brush of his lips against the nape of your neck, and then he pulled the zipper down. As the dress loosened around you, he followed the newly exposed skin with his mouth, pressing soft, chaste kisses down the newly exposed skin. The zipper ended just below the small of your back, and you heard a rustle as Jake stood up. You felt a finger trace down the skin of your back, and you shivered at his light touch.

“Should be good,” Jake said, his voice rough.

You looked over your shoulder, and his eyes were following his finger as it traced up and down your spine. You moved your shoulders, the dress slipping to the floor, but Jake caught it, brow furrowing in concern.

“Wait, hold on,” he fussed, guiding one of your hands to his shoulder as he knelt to help you out of it.

“Jake–” you tried, but he looked up at you firmly, tapping an ankle to prompt you to lift a heeled foot through the dress. “It’s lycra, it’s not going to wrinkle.”

Jake guided your other foot through the dress, then straightened, frowning at you. “But you said—”

“I wanted as little clothes as quickly as possible, Seresin,” you said bluntly. “Do you have another imperative?”

He dropped the dress.

Pushed you back into the door, his hands skating over all your newly exposed skin as he kissed you hungrily.

“S’what I thought,” you said smugly, then slid your hands under the collar of his blazer. “Your turn.”

Jake stepped back from you, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he shrugged out of his blazer. He looked down at your body for the first time, distracted by the saving of your dress earlier, and his eyes darkened at the sight of your matching lingerie, paired with the heels.

You head lulled against the door lazily as he practically tore at the buttons of his dress shirt, his eyes roaming over you quickly, and then he was shoving it off his shoulders as well.

You smiled at his urgency, your own eyes running over him appreciatively. He was too much of a peacock for this to be a new sight, but this context—in your room, in your arms-–it was an entirely different reality. You shivered, either from the exposure or the thought, and Jake stepped forward towards you, his hands suddenly gentle.

You thought you might whine as his hands ghosted over your sides, up the soft skin to the underside of your breasts. He palmed you over your bra, and you breath caught at the heat that simple action sent to your core. Even through the garment he felt warm, determined, and you arched your back off the door, pressing into him.

You reached behind you to undo the clasp, and Jake’s jaw tightened as he reached up to your shoulders to push the straps off of them. His hands traced down the newly bared skin, feather-light and gentle to return to your breasts, and he exhaled loudly as his hands closed over your skin. You did moan, this time, when his calloused hands brushed over your nipples, your head falling back against the door on a soft sigh.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest thing,” Jake said, almost reverently, and you felt his exhale just a moment before his mouth closed over one of your breasts. His tongue flicked over your nipple and your body jerked at the contact, heat spearing through you at his touch.

“Jake,” you whispered, your hands carding through his hair, and he sucked lightly when he heard his name off your lips. He switched to your other breast, lavishing it with the same intense attention, and your other hand fell to his shoulder, clutching him closer to you.

“Wait, wait,” he released you with a soft kiss, “look at me.”

You opened your eyes, pushing your head away from the door, and when you looked down at him, you wanted to cry at how absolutely delicious he looked. Hair wild, lips puffy, eyes blown, like an absolute dream between your breasts and your hips canted towards him, needing more contact.

Whatever he saw when he looked at you must’ve had the same effect on him, because he swore under his breath and straightened to press his lips against yours, then pulled back, his eyes searching yours.

“What was the second request?” he asked, voice nigh on pleading, and his hand ran over your back, down to the curve of your ass. You whimpered when he squeezed you there, kneading and feeling and reveling in you, and your mind blanked for a moment before you answered his question.

“This morning, in the kitchen,” you said, “with Payback–”

Jake’s grip on you tightened and his eyes darkened. “You better have a damn good reason for bringing up another man when you’re in my arms.”

“If you wouldn’t interrupt me,” you muttered, and his expression softened, reprimanded, before you continued. “Hair is the obvious tell. If we lie down, we’re not going back out; it’ll be too obvious that we…”

You trailed off, and Jake’s smirk was back.

“I’ve half a mind to get you laid down anyways,” he said, his fingers dipping under the hem of your underwear at the small of your back. “Make sure everyone knows just what we…”

He trailed off too, mimicking you, as he leaned towards you. You rolled your eyes even as you arched your neck for him to have better access, your breath catching as he kissed you lightly along the column of your throat.

“I mean it,” you managed, as his tongue found a particularly sensitive spot.

“I’m sure you do,” he mumbled against your skin, lips and teeth and tongue teasing you.

You thought back to the kitchen, the first time, and you played a hunch as your hands went into his hair. Jake’s kisses slowed against you when your nails scratched the top of his head, and you pulled him back by your grip.

“Sugar,” you said sweetly, your accent stronger, and Jake’s hips stuttered.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes flying open, surprised at his own reaction. “Why is that—”

You smiled, proud of yourself.

“No lying down,” you pushed, determined.

Jake scowled, that almost-pout back again, but he nodded. “No lying down,” he repeated.

“Good boy,” you teased.

Or you meant it as a tease, but Jake’s hands tightened on your ass and you saw his cheeks flush with your words, and your jaw dropped.

Did…did Hangman have a praise kink?

You lifted a hand wonderingly to the color on his cheeks, and Jake turned his head quickly, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

“So, if not on the bed,” he said, his voice gruffer than it’d been a moment ago, “what do you suggest?”

You let it go.

You slid your hands down his arms, pulling his hands away from you and pushing slightly, so he’d step back.

“I didn’t say we couldn’t use the bed,” you corrected, and led him over to it.

Along the way, you fiddled with his belt, and Jake helped you, pulling it loose. He kicked off his shoes and then shucked his jeans off, and you appreciated his enthusiasm almost as much as you appreciated seeing his strong thighs. You kissed him as soon as he was standing again, loving the feeling of him pressed against you, eager for his mouth against yours. He was all warm skin, coarse hair, and corded muscle; his arms wound around you to hold you to him, like he couldn’t get enough either.

Jake grunted when the back of his shins hit the bed and he drew you between his spread thighs as he sat, settling on the edge of the bed. He skimmed a hand along the hem of your panties as he leaned forward to press a trail of kisses across your lower stomach, looking up to catch your eye as he went. You felt your body cant towards him, chasing the feeling of his fingers, his tongue, and you nodded at his unspoken question, before Jake’s hands slipped under the thin fabric and pushed it down over your hips.

“Ah, darlin’,” Jake’s voice was low as he bared you before him, and you had to stop yourself from squirming under his perusal. His kisses trailed lower, his mouth light and his hands curling around the backs of your thighs and you whined when you felt his hot breath hovering over your core.

“Jake, please…” You whined, desperate, and Jake slid off the bed so he was kneeling in front of you.

It wasn’t much of a height difference from the bunk, but the sight of him literally on his knees before you had you grasping at his shoulders, needing the support.

And he hadn’t even touched you.

And then he had, one of his fingers tracing up your slit and gathering the moisture you knew had already pooled there, his eyes holding yours as he dragged the digit through your folds. You were panting at the obscenity of it, the reckless hunger in his gaze as his finger pulled through you, and your hips stuttered when his finger found your clit. Rather than stay there, he pulled his finger back, and you watched slack-jawed as he tasted your arousal off his fingers, like he’d licked up the latte this morning. His eyes fluttered, and when he looked back at you, his pupils were blown wide.

“Baby,” he said, his voice sounding wrecked, and it went straight through you, “you taste so fucking good.”

You were shaking, actually trembling, his words and the intensity of his eyes working over you, and then his hand was back in your cunt, brushing through your folds and you keened when his lips followed the path his finger had earlier, latching onto your clit. He suckled you gently, tongue teasing as his fingers worked through you, and your nails dug into his shoulders as he found a rhythm that was driving you crazy. He pulled back, his tongue circling your clit as his fingers explored you. You whimpered at the sensations and you felt Jake pull back.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispered, a breath away from your dripping cunt, “tell me it feels as good as you look.”

You looked down at him and moaned at the image, your hips pressing towards him again before you could stop it. The bottom half of his face was covered with your arousal and his spit, his lips puffy and his eyes so soft as he looked up at you.

“Better,” you told him, honestly.

He groaned, pulling you back into him, and your knees nearly buckled when he licked into you again. His tongue was broad as he spread you, and then he pressed a finger at your entrance as his mouth returned to your clit. He pushed his index finger into you and you felt your body tightening around him, needing something, needing more. Jake moaned, and you felt the vibration rock through you, delicious and tight, and that’s when you realized Jake was only holding onto you with one hand. You looked down to find his other hand pressed against his boxers, alleviating the pressure there as he lost himself between your thighs.

“W-wait,” you panted, and Jake pulled back immediately. He looked dazed, he looked drunk, he looked absolutely beautiful, kneeling in front of you. You rocked down on his finger again, loving the drag of it, but wanting more. “Let me see you.”

Jake looked back at your cunt longingly, but then he eased his finger out of you. You couldn’t help but whimper at the loss of contact, and Jake licked his finger clean, as he stood up. Your head tipped back as you looked up at him, loving his height, how big he was around you. Which had you looking down to see him straining against his boxers, and you frowned.

That had to be an optical illusion.

You heard Jake chuckle softly, and you realized you’d said it aloud, but you couldn’t be embarrassed, not when you were so curious. Jake shoved his boxers down, freeing his cock and you felt yourself salivate as it bobbed in the air between you two.

“Are you kidding me, Hangman,” you whispered, reaching for him.

He hissed when you traced a finger down a vein on the side of his cock, his literally throbbing, enormous cock, that was making you ache just looking at it.

“You do a man’s ego good, darlin’,” he said, but you heard the tight arousal lacing the humor in his voice.

You spit in your hand, wanting to feel the weight of him in your palm, and you watched Jake’s face as you wrapped your hand around him.

“I’m gonna regret not wanting to lie down, aren’t I?” you asked.

Jake laughed, but he choked on it when your thumb brushed over the head of his cock, smearing the precum that had gathered there. His hips rocked ever so slightly forward, and just that motion, that promise, had you feeling lightheaded. He felt so good, thick and heavy and hot, and you shifted your thighs, knowing how well he would fill you.

“One way to find out,” Jake said, as he stepped backwards towards the bed.

He sank down onto it, his eyes never leaving yours, and you stepped around his thighs before lowering yourself onto his lap. As you settled, your core brushed against his and you moaned at the tantalizing friction, rocking back to repeat the motion.

Jake swallowed the sound against your lips, his hands gripping your hips to steady you, guiding your movement as you rocked over him. He kissed you desperately, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, the combination of him and your arousal driving you crazy. You felt your hips speeding up, Jake’s thighs flexing as he supported you, the way his chest was rising and falling faster and faster as he swelled impossibly larger underneath you.

“Jake,” you moaned against his lips.

“I’m here, baby,” he whispered back, “what do you need?”

“Need to feel you,” you whined, and his hips stuttered.

The ache he’d built with his head between your thighs was pulsing, and you knew logistically you weren’t ready, but you needed him inside you. You rose up on your thighs and Jake’s hands tightened before you lowered yourself back down.

“Wait, wait,” he said, jaw tight, and looking up at you, “sorry, sorry, just–let me get a condom.”

“I have the implant,” you shook your head, using your grip on his shoulders to try to leverage yourself down. You could feel yourself clenching on nothing, needing to feel him, to be stretched by him.

“Fuck,” Jake groaned, drawn out, and a tremor ran over him. “Sweetheart, are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” you assured him, then stopped yourself, looking into his green eyes. “Wait, are you sure? You’re okay with—”

“God, yes,” Jake laughed, a sound that broke off when you reached between you to guide his cock to his entrance. You planted your knees on the bed on either side of him, aligned his cock, and sank down onto him.

Or tried.

“Shit, Jake,” you whined, just the head of him sparking a burning pressure.

“I know, baby, I know, I’m sorry,” Jake murmured, leaning up to kiss you. You couldn’t really kiss him back, not when you were slowly impaling yourself on his cock, the stretch of him centering you and destroying you, and Jake pressed kisses down your slacked jaw to your neck, sucking lightly on your pulse point as his hands soothed up your sides and over your shoulders.

Halfway down, he groaned, biting into your shoulder as his body fought not to thrust home inside of you. You felt his stomach clenching against you, his arms tight and his forehead wrinkled, and you returned a hand to his hair. His shoulders relaxed as you brushed through his hair, but he stayed quiet as you continued to work yourself down over him.

It felt like hours as you adjusted to him, your ass finally settling on Jake’s thighs as you took all of him. You were trembling, your body shaking to accommodate him, and Jake’s skin bore a sheen of sweat in his effort to remain still as you lowered onto him.

You thought of how he’d reacted when he’d agreed to this position, and you drew in a deep breath to steady yourself.

“Sugar,” you whispered, and Jake hummed into your neck, “you’re doing so good for me.”

He groaned, a low sound, long, his hips pressing up slightly before he could stop them. You felt yourself rock back into the movement, driving Jake deeper into you and you moaned approvingly.

“Please,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “you feel so fucking good, I need to move, please–”

“Yeah,” you breathed, and Jake groaned, pulling back to look at you. He locked his arms around your lower back and you braced yourself on his chest as he rolled his hips.

His first thrust had your eyes rolling back, and Jake gritting out another curse, as he fucked up into you. He felt so deep, so thick, stretching you and filling you and your hands curled around his sides to leverage yourself against him.

“You’re so tight,” he moaned, “taking this cock so well, letting me stretch you on it, fuck, you’re so good at riding me, baby.”

Pleasure spiraled through you as he thrust into you again, driven farther by the knowledge that you were doing this to him, that for all his posturing, Jake Seresin wanted to be told he was doing good, for you.

“It’s so good, Jake,” you whimpered as he drove into you, harder. “Shit, just like that–”

At the bottom of each stroke your clit pressed against the panes of his lower stomach and that had your eyes clenching shut as you clung to him. Jake made a gorgeous sound at the top of every thrust, something between a gasp and a moan and it was driving you wild, hearing him sound like that, for you.

“Jake,” you moaned, scrambling for purchase as he drove you higher.

“That’s it, baby, grab my hair,” he groaned, hips pumping into you. “Fuck, I can feel how deep I am inside of you; sweetheart, you feel so damn good.”

The sound of your hips slapping together echoed around your room and you felt dizzy with how fast he was thrusting, how deep his cock was driving inside of you. You knew the hand that wasn’t in his hair was leaving scratch marks up his back and a part of you tightened, thinking of him wearing your marks.

He was practically rutting up into you, your legs barely finding purchase on the bed, and when one of his hands crept up your back to fist in your hair, you arched into him, craving that. You moaned as he pulled you back, the pressure changing the angle that he was driving into you. Your legs scrambled out to balance yourself, but Jake’s arms around you were strong, steady.

“Holy shit, Jake,” you cried, “yes, please, just like that.”

“Whatever you need, baby,” Jake said, his voice hoarse, as he worked you over himself. He was hitting a part of you you couldn’t remember anyone else finding, or maybe he was fucking into you so deep that you couldn’t remember anything else at all. There was only Jake thrusting into you, Jake whimpering every time you clenched around him, Jake’s hands pulling you closer to him, Jake fucking whining as he felt you get closer.

“Fucking love how you feel, baby, are you going to come on my cock? Please, I need to feel it baby, please, come on my dick—”

It was that he asked you, pleading, that had you shattering around him, the world going white hot and dark, and your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your orgasm broke over you. You felt like you were floating, swirling, mindless and omniscient and remade. All you could feel was pleasure seeping out of you, all you could hear was Jake whispering praises as he held you through it, his body shuddering as he fell over the ledge with you.

“So beautiful, baby, thank you, you’re fucking perfect…”

You moaned as you gathered your bearings, draped across Jake’s chest, his hips still moving, slowly, gently working you through your orgasm. You pulled back to look at him, sweat plastering his hair to his forehead,

“There she is,” Jake said gently. “Hey, beautiful.”

You wrinkled your nose at his sweetness, leaning forward to kiss his dimples.

“That was amazing,” you pulled back to say, and Jake smiled. It might’ve been the prettiest sight you’d ever seen, or it might’ve been that you were still reeling from the force of your climax. As you shifted on his lap, a breath punched out of Jake and you froze.

“Darlin’,” he warned, but you silenced him with a look, and rolled your hips again.

Fuck, he was still hard.

Now that you were aware, your wrung out body protested the intrusion, but not as much as your mind raced with the realization that he hadn’t come with you, he’d just gotten you off and then waited while you writhed in his lap.

You settled your hands on his shoulders, determined, clenching down on him and rolling your hips. His cock twitched inside you and even through your sensitive haze, something sparked deep in your core. Jake groaned, his head falling back before his hands grabbed your waist firmly, stilling you.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to–” he broke off when you moved again. “You’re still shaking, baby, you—”

“What I am,” you said, gasping when his pubic bone brushed against your clit, even better for the tortured sound that ripped out of him, “is fucking determined. And I want you to fill me up, Seresin.”

He looked at you, something like awe and admiration mixing in his face.

“Sweetheart…” he tried, but you shook your head.

“Damn your chivalry, Jake,” you told him sharply.

You stared at each other, both of your bodies sweaty and trembling, both stubborn as hell, and wanting to see the other taken care of.

“Fine,” Jake’s brow furrowed deeper and he reached up to knock your hands off his shoulders, crossing your wrists together behind your back. “If I’m coming, you’re coming again too.”

You whimpered at the roughness of the action, even as it sent a thrill through your core, and you processed the words.

“Jake, wait—”

He didn’t wait.

He pulled your wrists tight and thrust up into you, moaning with relief when you clenched around him. If the first time had been fast and hard, this was deep and slow, long drags of his thick cock against your sensitive walls, deep and immutable and so damn good.

“That’s right, baby,” he muttered, fucking up into you again, and beginnin the slow retraction. “You want my cum? You’re gonna milk it out of this cock with that tight pussy.”

You moaned at his rough words, your thighs shaking as he drove into you. “Yes, Jake,” you pleaded, loving how you could feel his hips stutter at the wantonness in your voice. “That’s what I want, please, give it to me.”

You heard him spit and a moment later, his fingers circled over your clit. Your eyes clenched shut as your body jerked, desperate for more, sated and hungry and needing him. His fingers worked quickly over you, a counterbalance to the slow drag of him inside you. He stoked the fire of your pleasure with his fingers, coaxing you back to where you’d only just fallen from.

Your arms were straining, needing to feel him under your fingers, needing to touch his anything, but Jake held you firm, your body pressed back and all you could do was take his thick cock as it surged deeper into you.

You opened your eyes to see his face over you, flushed with from exertion, focused and beautiful and watching you so closely. His green eyes were careful, half closed from how tightly you were clenched around him, but trained on your face. Something in your chest warmed at the sight of him, even as your bodies were so wrecked and desperate for each other, watching out for you, reading you rather than losing himself to his own pleasure.

When you pulled at your wrists this time, he let you go, knowing something was different. You braced yourself on his thigh with one hand, the other coming up to cup the side of his face. Your mouth fell open and your breath caught as he pressed into you again, but you smoothed your thumb over his cheek, reaching up to wipe the sweat away from his eyes.

“Beautiful boy,” you whispered, honest, the only thing on your heart, and his eyes closed, his cheek pressing into your palm. His fingers stuttered over your clit, losing their rhythm, but you didn’t care; you pushed yourself back up to him, kissing him firmly.

He moaned into your mouth and you felt it through his chest, pressed against you. His fingers started over your clit again and his hips resurged and you broke away when you both needed to breathe.

“You’re fucking me so good, sugar,” you whispered against his lips.

“Fuck,” Jake swore, his hips driving into you harder. “Anything, baby, just–”

"Don't I feel good?" you asked, pressing down into him, and Jake groaned.

"Yes, baby," he panted, "b-but I want you to--"

“Cum for me, Jake,” you ordered, and he crashed his lips into yours again as his hips thrust into you with a muffled groan, and he emptied himself inside of you. The brush of his fingers, his heaving breath against your mouth, the pulsing of his cock inside of you pushed you over the edge, too. It washed over you like a wave that you had to let throw you until it passed so you could come up for air; you felt tears streaming down your face as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him.

The waves softened, the tide ebbed, and you returned once again to your room. You turned your face sideways to wipe your tears weakly on the soft skin of Jake’s shoulder. How you were both upright, you didn’t know, but you were playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, soft and drenched in sweat, and you felt him tracing circles on your back. You reached up, slightly, scratching at the crown of his head.

“How we doing over there, cowboy?” you asked, not surprised but slightly embarrassed by the hoarseness of your voice.

Jake stirred, drawing in a deep breath and shifting his head to guide your hand in his hair.

“Jesus,” he muttered into your chest. “I think I might love you.”

You laughed softly, knowing he was kidding, and appreciating that he felt comfortable enough with you to make that joke.

You pulled back, wiping at your face with the back of your hand, looking up at Jake.

He looked absolutely, thoroughly, obviously, just-fucked. And while you wanted to be upset, because it definitely ruined the point of not lying down, you had to admit—he looked damn good like this.

“It’s not fair,” you said as you reached for his chin, turning his head to the right and the left as you examined him. He raised an eyebrow, curious, and you shook your head as you let go of him. “You’re not supposed to still look good after.”

Jake chuckled, a soft sound, one that wound around your heart. “Sweetheart, you should see the view from where I sit.”

Now you knew that was bullshit, because you’d smeared or sweated off your makeup, your hair was falling out of the clip, and you didn’t wear just-fucked half as well as Jake Seresin. But he looked at you with such absolute conviction that you shook your head rather than disagree with this ridiculous man in your bed— strong like espresso, sweet like coral roses—and thought to yourself that, if he’d let you, you might just keep him.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #hangman x you #hnagman smut #speaking of praise kinks pls tell me you liked it bc this was wayyyyyyy harder than it should've been to finish

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orngejce · 9 months

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Hola party people, tis I, Mon. Below the cut is Dylan's bio, keep in mind she's my brain child and i'm still working out some minor kinks but am very very excited to write her and get back into group writing with everyone here! feel free to message me here or on discord for plots pls & thx bye.

welcome to marina, DYLAN WILCOTS ( cisfemale, she/her ) ! they are a/n 23 year old who has lived on the island for 23 YEARS. word on the street is they’re currently living in LOCKE ROW and works as a WAITRESS. everyone also says they look a lot like MEG DONNELLY. what do you think? —mon, 29, she/her, est

name: DYLAN LORETTA WILCOTS dob: AUGUST 13th, 2000 residence: LOCKE ROWE sexuality: BISEXUAL occupation: WAITRESS, SUNNYSIDE DINER character board

TLDR; Basically, Dylan is the disgraced princess of the Wilcots family, once upon a time she was a spoiled brat, and how she's just a... trailer trash brat. She's sweet and affectionate and falls in love with everyone, she's a two-legged golden retriever with a bad habit of making things about her.

FAMILY BACKGROUND

Dylan Loretta Wilcots was born midday on one of the hottest days of the year, so hot that her mother, Loretta Wilcots, used to swear she’d given birth to the literal sun that day, something that stuck. It was a silly thing she always told her when she was a girl, that Dylan was nothing but sunshine and love, the one thing that brightened up the gloom and doom of her mother’s days. But it was just sweet girlhood memories, a sentiment that Dylan hadn’t heard about herself since her mother passed when she was ten years old, leaving her alone with her detached and callous father, and brand-new stepmother just a few months after they’d put her mother in the ground.

Gregory, daddy Greg, hadn’t planned on having Dylan when he did, in fact he hadn’t planned on marrying Loretta, she was meant to be a small town girlfriend, someone he would get to forget about once he graduated and got to go off at college. So, when she ended up pregnant with little Dylan, he was less than pleased, even less than when it caused him to give up his dreams of getting out of Marina, his dreams of being something else, something bigger. Instead, he was stuck with an unwanted child, and doing what his father had always wanted, following in his footsteps and keeping up with the family’s canning business. Wilcot Cannery stocked most of the grocery stores on Marina Island, by keeping everything in house it was a business that was always booming, and Gregory quickly fell in line and became the mirror image of his father after his passing.

Gregory always had a resentment towards Dylan, which bred Dylan’s own resentment back, plus his quick finding of a new mommy dearest for her didn’t help that. Dylan quickly filled the shoes of the spoiled-entitled brat, as sweet as sugar on the outside, but when she didn’t get her way she made it known, she spit and she cried and she screamed and made her father’s life as difficult as she possibly could, he didn’t deserve anything else in her eyes, he never loved her mother, never loved her, so why should she go out of her way to plead for it. No instead she pleaded for the tangible things he would shove in her face to get her out of his hair, whatever toy she wanted, whatever clothes she wanted, if Dylan whined, Dylan won.

It stayed like that for years, Dylan promised good behavior and pretty smiles as long as her dad gave her anything she asked for, and it worked, for years it worked until one year her dad asked for something she just couldn’t give to him. The Wilcots’ typically picked who they’d let into the family, pretty girls or pretty boys who didn’t care to argue anything, who would look on in the paper, and when Dylan was 18 her father wanted her to marry Ezra Jaymes, a boy whose father owned a big farm out on Prospect Hill. A business deal, a daughter for a son, a way to expand and put even more money in the Wilcots’ pockets. Dylan said no, and when she continued to say no her father slowly cut her off. First, he closed her banking cards, then he closed out the credit cards, and then finally he had the sheriff show up to escort her out of her home. She was 18 after all, and if he didn’t want her on his property there wasn’t anything they were able to do, even as she was crying for her daddy to let her stay. That was five years ago now, and while she still sees her father from time to time, she’s no longer able to whine her way to what she wants, now she was the disgraced Wilcot, and her younger half-siblings were her dad’s new pretty paper perfect dolls.

PRSENTLY

These days Dylan spends most of her time working, or at least pretending to work, at the diner flirting with the customers that come in or helping herself to the various freshly baked pies they serve daily. When she isn’t at Sunnyside she’s either roaming around downtown, trying to find the new high in her life, something or someone she can whine to fill the void her father left, someone who looked at her and saw the sun like her mom always had, or she’s got her feet propped up on the creaky swing she set up on the porch of her powder blue trailer in Locke Row, feeding the various strays that wander up to her home when she forgets to take her trash off the porch.

PERSONALITY

Dylan is bubbly. She’s a bubbly, giddy, giggly mess of a girl who means well and is good natured but can come off entirely shallow and self-absorbed. She cares about people deeply, prides herself on being an empath, but finds herself babbling about herself more than nodding in agreement when speaking to people. She’s a hopeless romantic, always searching for that fluttery feeling her mom used to tell her that she felt with her father, though she’s not sure how that was possible at all but is sure she herself will be able to find it, after all she fell in love at the drop of the hat. A pretty girl with round cheeks, a handsome boy with pearly whites, really a whisper of a compliment was enough to do her in, a serial dater. When she isn’t bubbly, she’s morose, a modern-day Eeyore, where anything and everything that can go wrong will, and she lets it be shown on her face, she’s never been very good at hiding her emotions.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

JILTED EX; Dylan ended things abruptly with them, no rhyme or reason to it, one day they were happy and planning future dates, then the next they got a cryptic text from Dylan stating it was over.

UNLIKELY FRIEND; the black cat to her golden retriever, they shouldn't work but they do, in fact they work so much that they can be darn right inseparable at times, even when Dylan is being overly affectionate and getting on their last nerves.

GIANT CRUSH; Dylan gets crushes on everyone, in fact no one takes her flrting seriously since there isn't a single person left in town that Dylan hasn't at least batted her eyelashes at once, but for some reason this person is always on her mind, the one she can't shake, the one who could be the one, if you wanted to get lame about it.

#marina:intro #muse: dylan #intro #tw: death

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munsontm · 2 years

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nsfw hc for fun.

The best sex Eddie had before his main verse with @/harringtontm was with Tammy Thompson. They had a fling in summer of 85 when they were both part of a battle of the bands competition. He was vaguely teaching her to sing better...it kinda helped. But afterwards, they'd get it on, and it was surprisingly sweet all things considered.

Before then, Eddie's sexual experiences had been impersonal and unbalanced with both men and women. It was him giving and being taken from, and was often not particularly pleasant, especially with men that often picked him up from the Hideout. Yes, it was mutually using one another...but Eddie discovered that he honestly didn't like that too much, yet he kept doing it because it felt safer than trying to give his heart to someone.

Eddie is a switch, okay. But he is not a Dom. When he tops, he can be a bit of a brat, but he's a full on brat when he bottoms or subs lmao. When Eddie tops, it's all about pleasuring his partner and doing whatever he can to make them orgasm more than playing any kind of role or game like he would on the other end of the spectrum. He isn't any different depending on the gender either.

Although a switch, he loves a femdom, and will behave with a femdom at all times because he enjoys pleasing them and getting their praise. Also, pls peg him. Whereas with a Dom...he's a little bastard.

Eddie does not like being degraded beyond being called a s**t or wh**e. If someone were to use language akin to 'trash' 'pathetic' 'disgusting' 'worthless' that's an instant boner killer and he will be out in an instant. That's the language his dad used with him. It's not what he wants to hear in the bedroom ever.

Speaking of kinks. Yes, Eddie has plenty. But he will always have very frank and open discussions about them beforehand. He enjoys talking about it.

He likes to be overstimulated during sex. Not all the time. But sometimes he likes to be made to come over and over again until he literally can't anymore. It gets him out of his head and he likes to be out of that horror house.

Always feel free to manhandle him. 🥴

#nsft #𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 : 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍? 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎. 🎸

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khunvegas · 2 years

Text

i mean, yeah. love in the air makes no sense, the plot is going nowhere, i'm pretty sure some scenes that were supposed to be deleted scenes were added at the last minute. questionable things happening and bad decision making is the core of this show. it's all trash.

but this is MAME we are talking about. she has a sharp eye to get hot guys to play her characters and a way to make you look past the questionable plots and just get you wheezing with the intimate scenes

we are here for a good time, not a long time

#all i'm saying is guys #if you feel iffy with the dubcon pls stop watching #do yourself a favor and please go watch something else #the way some here pop up just to lament on this show is tiring #and pls don't say we lita enjoyers are advocating for the dubcon and abuse #all of this is fiction #and like someone said before #this is probably mame's kink because there's no way she would use the same stuff in all her novels #is it uncomfortable to watch? yeah but you gotta tell yourself is not really happening #and you can turn it off whenever you want or even skip #i'm more concerned with the fact that we still don't know the plot for this #unless the plot is actually the #make you fall in love with me in 30 days #which is a very weak plot #and after so many good shows these past years this feels like a setback #like i said it's all trash #but i'm nothing but weak for a cute guy with a ponytail #we'll see if the dumpster burns to the ground #love in the air the series #thai bl #thai drama

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bb-eilish · 2 years

Text

Mine

pairings; bodyguard!beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings; Rough sex, doggy, riding, condom use, jealous beomgyu, sir kink, dom!gyu, sub!reader, slight nipple play, fingering, masturbation(F), wet dreams, mutual pining, car sex.

A/N; i loved writing this omg, and btw L/n means your last name just in case you didn’t know!!

i am not responsible for the media you consume but pls do not read if you’re a minor 💗

“I’m a big girl, I don’t need a babysitter”

You can’t believe this, just because your father is unbelievably wealthy suddenly means you need to be babysat like a child. All because of some random threat about ransom or something that was mailed to your house, whatever.

You eye him as your father explains. His hair sits at the back of his neck, almost like a mullet. Dark strands frame his face and make his eyes darker than they already are. He wears black dress pants and a white dress shirt, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Y/n this is for your safety, he’ll escort you places and i’ve decided to give him the spare bedroom” Your dad insisted, you knew there wasn’t a way around this so you settled with a small smile as he shakes your hand and introduces himself.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. L/n. Looks like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other". You nod and excuse yourself.

Is he seriously going to ‘escort’ you everywhere? What’s next? Is he gonna wipe you too?

Your scowl deepens as you finally make it through your bedrooms door frame, it’s late and maybe everything will be okay tomorrow when you wake up.

///////////////

“Are you going to come to the mall today?”

Karina asks over the phone, you groan in remembrance—she asked you the other day and you said yes. But that was before you got a babysitter.

“Yea l’ll be there”

She cheers and quickly says her goodbyes. There’s no way you’re going out with a babysitter, you’re 19 not 5. You’d be the laughing stalk of your friend group.

Great. Now you have to figure out how to sneak out without the warden finding out. You’re gonna have to be careful. Peering outside your window you notice the tree perched right next to it, could you make that work? The tree wasn’t very big, but there was a branch that stretched right to your window.

Checking the time on your phone you shove the device in your purse and shrug it on. The window opened with a flick to the lock and you gripped the branch firmly before inching closer and closer to the edge. You could probably just-

“And what do you think you’re doing?” An amused voice sounds from behind you.

Your eyes close with a deep sigh and you take a second before gazing over your shoulder, Beomgyu tilts his head to the side and cocks an eyebrow. “Nothing, I was doing nothing. Now if you excuse me I’m going to the kitchen”. You might’ve been caught but that doesn’t mean you won’t keep trying.

“You wouldn’t mind if I went with you then. Right, Ms. L/n?”

“Why would you? I’m just going to the kitchen” Your lips are pulled into a tight-lipped smile. “Exactly, so you wouldn’t mind, correct?” You narrow your eyes at him and clench your fists, “Fine”.

You have one more trick up your sleeve as you both step down the stairs and through your elegant living room. You stop at the entrance of the kitchen and turn to him, “I’m gonna go to the bathroom, i’ll be right back”.

You think he doesn’t see through you as he nods and takes a seat at the oak table sat to his far left. The closest bathroom was a corner away and you try and hold back your smirk on your way there. The bathroom is a pristine beige color and it almost sparkles because of how clean it is. The toilet is to your right, the sink is to your left, and the window is right in front of you. It’s higher up so nobody can look in so you have to step on the trash can to shimmy your way through it.

‘I knew this would work’ you think, your feet hit the ground with a soft thud and you haul ass to your car that’s waiting prettily for you. Your phone dings in your purse as you pop open the door and angle yourself into it. You only get to the passcode screen when someone clears their throat. Almost dropping your phone in terror you whip your head to the passenger side and stare in awe at Beomgyu.

“What the fuck?” It’s almost a whisper but you know he heard you as he smugly smirks. “Didn’t think I was that gullible did you, Ms. L/n? Where are we going?” He starts pulling the seatbelt over his broad chest and shoulders while you try and not kick and scream in annoyance.

Fine, he wins. “The mall”. You mutter as you press down the brake and turn on the car.

///////////

The drive to the mall was quiet, and yet, still annoying to you.

You park the car and turn to him, “Please don’t embarrass me infront of my friends, I really don’t feel like being laughed at today” You sigh, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. L/n” He says as he exits the car, you try not to think about it as you do the same and walk through the busy parking lot. The entrance is flooded with people because of a, apparently, really popular kiosk. The minute you almost get knocked over is when Beomgyu settles his left hand on the small of your back and guides you.

Your breathing hitches for a second and you pray he doesn’t hear it. The food court comes into focus and he drops his appendage from your back, the loss of heat and contact catches your attention until you spy your friends. Sighing, you prepare yourself to be teased.

“Hey guys” You smile as you find an empty seat, Beomgyu finds an empty table behind you and sits down—spreading his legs hotly as he peers around the building.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but I think you’re being followed” Momo whispers to you, a nervous chuckles leaves you and you explain, “Heh…that’s just Beomgyu. My..uh..bodyguard..” You flinch at the giggling that erupts after that. Typical.

“Why doesn’t he sit with us then? Beomgyu pull up a chair, you never know if Y/n might start choking” Karina cackles, causing the other girls to start as well. Looking down at your lap you hear him get up and settle into the seat at the end of the table you’re closest to.

“It’s nice to meet Ms. L/n's friends, I'm Choi Beomgyu. You are?” He wears a blank expression at Karina, who is currently leaning on her hand at the moment. You know her and the exact thing she’s doing right now. Yea Beomgyu was attractive, but he was also your bodyguard. Karina wouldn’t shoot her shot right?

“I’m Karina, how old are you? I mean, you look so young..” She scrapes her bottom lop with her teeth, giving him a flirty smile. Your eyebrows furrow at her blatant flirting.

“I’m 21”

Wow, that suit makes him look a lot older. Who knew he was only 2 years older than you. Karina’s smile deepens as she goes to say something else, “I’m 21 too, Y/n’s only 19 though, she’s such a baby compared to us” She giggles into her hand.

You make eye contact with Beomgyu but you can’t hold it for long, this was so embarrassing. You were constantly mocked for your age in this group, now you know why.

“Karina, it’s only 2 years…” You trail off, playing with your fingers.

“You’re right but look at you” She reaches over and pinches one of your cheeks before a firm grip lands on her wrist. She lets go out of shock, gasping at the act Beomgyu performs. When she’s far enough away he lets go of her. Your eyes widen and heat rises to your cheeks.

Somehow she isn’t phased at all by this, it seems to only spurr her on further. “Wow, Beomgyu. You have a firm grip, I can tell you’re good with your hands”. You roll your eyes and stop yourself from scoffing.

Soon, Beomgyu looks at his phone and lets you know your father needs him. Which means you both have to leave. Sighing in relief, you say your goodbyes and borderline run out of the mall.

////////////

Pulling into your driveway you settle your head on your steering wheel for a moment.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/n?” His voice is soft and you sigh before answering, “Yea, I guess so”. He doesn't pry any further as you both shuffle out of your car.

///////////

That was so embarrassing, you haven't left your room in hours because of it. Also because you keep thinking about how hot it was for Beomgyu to do that. Surprisingly, guilt starts to consume you. He hasn't even been here a day and you've already been such a bitch. Your shoulders fall as you make a deal with yourself to try and be nicer.

Flinching at the loud squeak of your bedroom door as you exit through it, you find yourself at the blocked entrance of the spare bedroom. The dark oak of the wood almost taunts you, you raise a hand to knock, hesitantly. Light shuffles can be heard behind it before it opens to reveal Beomgyu dressed in a black shirt and black sweat pants, a small towel hangs around his neck as he actively drys his hair off.

"Yes, Ms. L/n? Is something wrong?" He looks at you, waiting. "I, uh, wanted to apologize. I understand you're here for my safety and I appreciate it". You don't meet his eyes as you mutter out the apology.

You almost gasp when he presses the pad of his index finger under your chin and lifts your head up to his eye level. A kind smile is on his lips and you hope he can't read your facial expressions. "Nothing to apologize for, it takes time getting used to. I think we're going to..get along..just fine"

You only offer a smile in return, you do not trust your voice right now. The shuffle back to your room was quick, as your mind is racing with thoughts of him. Your heart is going crazy under your ribcage and you wring your fingers together as you think about it. The way he phrased his sentence, ��I think we’re going to get along just fine’, it had you already overthinking.

Closing the door behind you, you throw yourself on the bed and trace the spot on your chin that he touched. You've never been like this with other people you've found attractive, but Beomgyu just...makes you feel so vulnerable.

"Ms. L/n, dinner is ready. Would you prefer to eat in your room?" That's probably your chef, Mrs. Kim.

"I'll be down in a minute. Thank you". You respond, she hums and you sit up, pushing some stray hairs behind your ear. Your clothed feet pad against the wood flooring as you leave your bedroom. At the same time you see Beomgyu enter his with a plate, slightly frowning you once again knock on his door.

He opens it with his hands free, "Yes, Ms. L/n?"

"You should eat downstairs with me..y'know since my dad is usually busy..." You try and play off the kind gesture cooly, he stares at you for a second before nodding. "Alright" he turns around as you walk off to the kitchen. At the dining table there's already a pre-prepped place for you along with some water. Your heart rate spikes at the thought of you two eating dinner together, alone—well almost, Mrs. Kim is currently doing the dishes.

As you take a seat you spot Beomgyu enter the kitchen, heading right for you. He picks the seat right across from you and silently sets his stuff down. You pick up your fork and start twirling the pasta with it, trying to remain as clean as possible while you eat.

"So, Ms. L/n, any plans for tomorrow?" His voice cuts through the silence like a knife and it almost scares you, you eventually meet his eyes even though you still find it difficult. "Not yet, I might try and see a movie, though. I'm not sure"

"Sounds like fun, I could use a movie" His humor is dry and it causes a giggle to leave you. Your mouth opens as you go to respond but it closes quickly when his foot brushes against yours. You play it off with a clearing of your throat and go back to poking and twirling your food.

You both finish eating around the same time and he goes to pick up your plate for you, "It's okay, Beomgyu". He dismisses your concerns and picks it up anyway, thanking Mrs. Kim as she takes it from him.

"Thank you for eating with me, Beomgyu. I'm gonna go to sleep" You rub at your eyes, and he doesn't respond for a second as he gazes at you.

"Of course, Ms. L/n. Goodnight". He smiles warmly and you try not to ogle him too much.

//////////////

You're sprawled out under your covers, tossing and turning before sitting up. Your dream was scarily realistic. You were never a wet-dream type of person, but it started with you running your hands through his hair, something you think about quite a lot. Then the dream took a drastic turn and he's soon dragging his lips over the skin of your neck as he hovers over your bent over position.

His dirty words still fresh in your mind, "Take it" "My girl" "You're mine". The memory brings your attention to the heat flaring in your lower abdomen. Your core pulses in need and you tip your head back and groan in frustration. Falling flat on your back again, you sigh and drag a hand down to the waistband of your shorts.

Are you seriously gonna do this right now? Yes, yes you are.

Your fingers meet your clit and you buck up at the flicker of pleasure. Images of Beomgyu pop into your mind and it has the feeling of your fingers against you heightening. "You like it when I touch you? Hm?" You picture him saying, the fingers rolling your clit stop so they can circle your opening and dip themselves into it. You know his fingers would feel so much better in you.

The slight stretch of your own fingers probably wouldn't even compare to his, the thought has you biting your lip desperately trying to keep down the whimpers and moans threatening to spill. Beomgyu's room resides next to yours and you couldn't look him in the eyes if he caught you.

You fasten the pace imagining what he’d look like pleasuring you. The coil in you tightens and you're already so close.

"Aw you're gonna cum? All for me?" You imagine again, the imaginative dirty talk has your free hand gripping your sheets, and your hips lift helplessly as you ride out your high.

When you come back down a wave of exhaustion hits you and find a comfy position to fall back asleep in.

//////////////

“Did you sleep well, Ms. L/n?” Beomgyu asks as he joins you in the kitchen. You’re mid sip into a cup of tea and the question has you choking. His eyes widen a fraction and he strides over to you to give you a pat on the back. You swallow the liquid and cough slightly before answering.

“Thank you, and yes, I did. Hopefully you slept well in your new room”. Hesitantly taking another sip, your eyes drift down his face to the expanse of his clothed chest before looking away from him completely.

“I did, have you decided on any plans today?”.

“Oh, yea. A movie sounds good”.

He smiles at you and nods, “Great, what time does it start?”.

“Uh, 6:30 I believe” He nods at you again and you excuse yourself to your room. What should you wear? You’re not exactly trying to seduce him…..but. You have a giant walk in closet, inside is probably thousands of items of clothing. The fuzzy rug under your feet calms your nerves slightly as you take a seat on the chair to your vanity.

The movie starts in about 8 hours but you don’t really have anything better to do, plus your anxiousness has time warping in your mind. Peering around the bright white room, you try and think of an outfit. It’s summer but it’s usually really cold in theatres. You’ll just pair whatever you wear with a jacket or something.

//////////////

It took you about 30 minutes to think of an outfit, but you were finally done. Next is to shower. Thankfully there’s a bathroom connected to your room. Reaching it, you switch on the light and make a B line for the shower. The handle is cold under your grip as you turn it, but nothing happens. Your eyebrows furrow as you push the handle further, but still, nothing happens.

You grab your phone that you put on the counter and scroll through your contacts until you find your dads number. It rings for a second,

“Hello?”.

“Dad I think my shower is broken, I keep turning the handle but nothing comes out”.

You hold back a whine, there’s only like 3 showers in this house.

Your dad might be incredibly wealthy, but he’s smart. He decided to not buy a giant mansion so he could use his money for other things.

“I’ll call the plumber or something, try my shower?”.

You nod at his suggestion before realizing he can’t see you, “I will, thank you. I love you”.

“I love you too, bye”.

The call ends and you let out a huff, you turn on your heel—grab your towel, as well as different soaps, and exit your bathroom and then your bedroom. Your dads room was right at the end of the hallway, pushing open the double doors you pad into his bathroom and try his shower. Nothing.

“Goddamnit” you groan.

Taking out your phone you decide to text him this time.

Your shower isn’t working either, what do I do?

He responds quickly.

Try the one in the spare bedroom, I’m sure Beomgyu wouldn’t mind sharing.

You stare at your phone in shock, Beomgyu’s? But that’s in his room…

Your nerves flare but you do it anyway, the walk to his door suddenly feels like miles. Gripping he towel hung over your arm, you stop at his door and knock softly.

“Can I help you, Ms. L/n?”. The polite name he uses for you is fine and all, but you kinda wish he would just call you Y/n.

“Can I use your shower? Mine and my dads aren’t working”. You practically radiate nervousness as you ask.

“Yea, of course. Go right ahead” He steps aside to let you in. You’ve been in here only a few times but you know it’s changed. It has personality now, there’s clothes neatly laid out on a chair in the corner. The bed is made but is slightly messed up, and it smells heavenly.

You spot the bathroom and shuffle to it, letting out a shaky sigh when the door closes behind you. Taking a glance at the sink you spot a razor, a tooth brush, and toothpaste. Nothing crazy.

You place your shampoo and conditioner on the ground of the shower as well as your body soap. This shower was almost as big as yours, it wasn’t part bathtub either. It was a nicely sized, walk-in shower.

You stare at the handle before grabbing it and turning, you sigh in relief as the water actually comes out of it. Turning it to your preferred temperature you undress yourself. A thought has you stopping—shirt half way off. Beomgyu is on the other side of this door, and you’re going to be showering…..naked.

You shake your head at the thought and finish taking off the clothing.

The water feels nice on your tense shoulders, you try your hardest to pay attention to the actual shower instead of Beomgyu, which is proving to be difficult.

Finally you wash the soap off of you and work the conditioner out of your hair, you’re finally done. Turning off the water, you wring out extra water from your hair and grab your towel. Drying off your hair went fast as well as drying off the rest of your body.

The towel is quickly wrapped around you, one hand is occupied holding your towel together securely so you decide to come back and get your stuff later since you wouldn’t be able to hold it all. You have to leave now. Through the door. You stare at the white wood and hype yourself up. It seems to have worked but the second you open it, all of the confidence drains from you.

“Thank you” You mutter while walking through the room, to the door. He looks at you and, slightly, tilts his head.

“It’s my pleasure, Ms. L/n”

Trying your best not to gawk at him was tricky but you managed to leave his room in one piece. There’s a part of you that’s relieved but a bigger part of you that’s a little disappointed.

Your clothes are splayed across your bed and you drop the towel around you before slipping on the new outfit. Now you just gotta do the rest.

///////////

Looking over yourself in the mirror, you deem your work finally done and stand up. You stretch for a second before picking out your shoes. Should you wear heels? Sandals? Maybe even boots? Tapping your finger lightly against your chin, you make your decision and drag out your choice of shoe.

There’s a large clock on of your wall and you peek at it. It’s currently 1:30 PM. Unexpectedly, a knock sounds from your door.

Gingerly opening the door you’re met with Beomgyu, he gives you a polite smile and asks, “What movie are we seeing?”. You notice the way he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and you yearn for something, you’re not sure what but the urge is there.

“Oh, yea, uh, some rom com. I forgot the title, sorry if you don’t like rom coms”. There’s a tinge of guilt that strikes you, you didn’t even ask him what movie he’d like to go see.

“No no, it’s okay. Thank you, Ms. L/n”. His smile deepens before he walks away, you watch him as he descends the stairs. Would it be crazy of you to think of this as a date? You know this is his job but there’s a small part of you that might believe he has a thing for you. That’s probably just the delusion though.

///////////////

The time reads 6:10, it’s finally time to leave. You’ve been alternating between the kitchen and your room for the past several hours. You pull on your shoes and grab your purse—shoving your phone into it. Swinging open your door, you step into the hallway and down the stairs.

Beomgyu is on your couch, doing something on his phone before he takes notice of your presence. “Ready?” He asks, you nod and wait for him to get up and put his shoes on before opening the door. The way he’s walking next you to has one of his hands brushing up against your arm and you fight the urge to grip your heart.

Your car comes into view and you dig out your keys from your mess of a purse. The car responds to the unlock button and you both get in. The theatre isn’t too far away so you have plenty of time, as you put the car into reverse you spot Beomgyu’s thighs. They would probably make the best seat, you’re so attracted to him it’s crazy.

You come to a stop light and see his hand in your peripheral rub the clothed skin of his thigh and give it a light squeeze. That has you clenching your thighs together, his hands would feel like heaven against you.

The light turns green and you let out a, silent, shaky breath. Another turn and you’re pulling into the theatre’s parking lot. It’s always packed in the summer so you hope you find good seats. The place is crowded and in, apparent, Beomgyu fashion he settles a hand on dip of your lower back until you get to the front desk.

You greet them and ask for 2 tickets to the movie you were gonna watch, the lady smiles at you both and says, “This movie is perfect for couples, enjoy”. As you give her the money. Your eyes widen and you go to deny it.

“Oh, N-“ But you were cut off.

“That’s great, thank you”. Beomgyu speaks over you, pulling you to the concession stand by the hand on your back. Your face and ears feel hot and you hope it’s not noticeable, but you don’t say anything to him about it as you wait in line. He rubs his thumb on your skin ever so slightly and you kinda just wanna jump his bones right now.

“Next”.

The menu is filled with different candies, drinks, and greasy foods. Your eyes land on your favorite candy so you add that to your mental food cart. You’ll get a water too.

As you’re almost done ordering you forget to add the last thing, “Can I also get a large popcorn, please?”. The cashier nods and gathers all of the food and drinks you both ordered, you pay for the last time and search for theatre 18.

“Do you think it’s this way? Or that way?”. You mutter at him, there’s a fork in the road and a sea of people. He drags you one way with a hand now settled, snuggly, against your waist.

Turns out he was right , theatre 18 is at the end of this long, crowded, hallway. The hand on your waist maneuvers you around people and it has you thinking of some pretty inappropriate thoughts.

You enter the theatre and look for any open spots, there’s single chairs sprinkled through out but you can spot 3 empty ones all the way in the back. Getting his attention, you point at them.

////////////////

So far the movie is okay, you expected better but it’s kinda boring. You’re half way through the popcorn Beomgyu is currently eating. You discreetly watch him, that ransom threat was the best thing to ever happen to you. You now get to hang out with Beomgyu for god knows how long. He takes notice of your staring and turns to you, “Do you want some?”. Her refers to the popcorn and you panic, if you don’t take it how will you explain your staring? If you do take it you will pop, you can’t eat anymore.

“Oh, um. I’m okay, thank you…” The sheepish look on your face is obvious even if he can’t see you very well. You turn back to the screen and swallow the nerves beginning to build in your throat. The shadows cast upon his face made him look even more chiseled and it did things to you.

The one thing that made your insides turn into literal soup was when a loud scene was unfolding, Beomgyu tapped you on the shoulder to say something but you couldn’t hear him. You mouth ‘what’?’ so he leans in and brushes the shell of your ear with his lips.

“Can you pass the popcorn?”.

The question was innocent, yet a shiver runs through your spine and goosebumps bloom across your neck. You seriously wouldn’t mind if he bent you over infront of everyone in this theatre.

Your breath is shaky as you exhale while plucking the bowl off the ground. You assume he says ‘thank you’ as his lips move.

//////////////////////

“Good movie, what did you think?” You agree and think about what you liked about it. Honestly, you were barely paying attention. Beomgyu takes up your mind 99% of the time.

“I loved that one part…with the flowers”.

“Oh, me too. What about that one part with the bear?” He looks at you excitedly and your eyes slightly widen.

“Loved that part, too. It was great”.

Your eyebrows furrow at the sudden guffaw he lets out, “There wasn’t a bear in the movie, you weren’t paying attention were you?”.

He laughs harder at the look on your face as you get closer to the bathrooms, still giggling he says, “I’m gonna be right back. Stay here”

You purse your lips until you giggle too. There’s a bench directly to your left and you go to set everything down, sitting after. People of all shapes and sizes walk through the hallway as you sit.The unexpected tap on your shoulder has you whipping your head to the side.

A man stands there, he wears sunglasses—indoors, and carries a flirtatious smile. You’re immediately not interested, “Can I help you?”.

He’s already getting on your nerves and he hasn’t even said anything yet. Other men just aren’t as good as Beomgyu.

“I see you’re sitting here alone. Need some company?” He says before taking a seat WAY too close to you. You hold back the sound of disgust and laugh nervously. “I’m okay”. You scoot away from him but it only seems to egg him on as he scoots closer.

“Listen dude, can you fuck off? I’m not interested”. You huff at him, his smile drops and his mouth opens ready to say something.

“Listen, you bi-“.

“Can I help you?”. You hear, Beomgyu stands to your right with an, incredibly, intimidating look on his face. Just like when you met him his hair falls infront of his eyes and it fully catches your attention. You don’t even look towards the other dude, completely forgetting about him and the interaction.

Beomgyu huffs and just like before, you want to jump his bones. Your underwear sticks to you uncomfortably and you wish you could ask him to help you out. His shoulders drop slowly and he grabs your wrist, yanking you up and through the dispersing crowd. You trip over your feet a few times before he lets go of you in the parking lot.

“Give me your keys”. His deep voice almost startles you, rummaging through your purse you finally find them and give it to him. Unlocking your car, he politely opens the passenger door for you before rounding the front of the vehicle and hopping in the drivers seat.

“Are you okay?”. You ask in a small voice, you stare at him wide eyed and a bit afraid. His, large, hands grip your steering wheel tightly. The veins in them popping out deliciously.

“Y/n”.

He looks over at you and your blood freezes, he’s never called you that before. And the look he’s giving you through his hair has your hands clenching.

“Y-yes?”. Your voice is shaky and soft as his, harsh, gaze pierces through you.

“I-”.

RING

He sighs and fishes out the phone from his left pocket, “Hello?”.

You don’t hear the other person on the line as Beomgyu swallows his anger.

“Yes, Sir”. He pulls the device away from his ear as the call ends.

“We’re going home”.

//////////////

The entire car ride was tense, with sexual tension or normal tension—you’re not sure. Either way you open your window to alleviate the rising heat in your body.

Beomgyu is silent even after you park and enter the house. Your shoulders slump as you enter the threshold of your room, but of course, your phone rings at the same time. ‘Karina’ pops up and you mentally pepare yourself.

“Hey”

“Hey, y/n. We’re all going out clubbing tonight, you should come”

“I’m gonna have to break out my fake ID but okay, pick me up in an hour?”

“Sounds good, and bring that bodyguard of yours” She giggles.

You let a fake laugh and say your goodbyes. There’s no way you’re bringing him, you’re gonna actually have to sneak out successfully this time.

“Ms. L/n, can I come in?” The voice is distinct and has you almost swooning.

“Yea, come in”

He wears a tired expression, “I’m going to sleep but I wanted to apologize for earlier. I’m not sure what came over me”.

“Oh, it’s okay. Don’t apologize”. The reassuring smile on your face mends his overactive mind and thoughts. “Thank you, Ms. L/n. I’ll see you in the morning”. When he leaves, you feel guilty for trying to sneak out, but you honestly wanna find someone to take your mind off of him.

Your closet is full of dresses and you’re stumped between 3 cocktail ones. Holding them up by the hanger, you pose with them infront your mirror. Your mind is made up relatively fast as you pick the 2nd one. It’s a short, black, dress with a deep v cut.

Now onto shoes, should you wear a taller heel? They’re cute but moving will be painful. Flats? Ew no. So, you meet in the middle and settle on some really cute mary janes.

After you’re done getting ready and take a seat on your bed, what if Beomgyu saw you in this? Would he be grossed out? Would he think you were pretty? Wow, you have such a fat crush on him. You usually weren’t one for lovey dovey stuff. But Beomgyu brought out such intense feelings from the bottom of your heart. Just thinking about him has your heart rate spiking. A ding from your phone startles you.

karina; Be there in 20

Letting out a soft sigh, you lean back to grab at your remote, putting on some random show. Maybe that’ll make it seem like you’re really in here later, you’re hoping.

///////////////

You get the text that she’s waiting for you so you slip off your shoes and quietly pad across the hallway. The house is pitch black and you have to use your phone flashlight while you descend the stairs. You unlock the door quietly and open it the same. Standing on your porch, you ever so slightly close the door, relief floods you as you get it closed.

Her headlights light up your garage door and you worry that might wake Beomgyu up.

“Aw you didn’t bring your boy toy, you’re no fun y/n” Karina whines, you hold back the eye roll as you jokingly apologize. Excitement courses through you as you think of the guys that might be there, they might even be hotter than Beomgyu. But you’re honestly not sure if that’s possible. Clipping back on your shoes you buckle your seatbelt and lean back.

The ride there was full of loud music and giggling. When Karina wasn’t teasing you you really enjoyed spending time with your friends.

“Alright, we’re here ladies”. She says as she finds a parking spot. The small purse in your hand is snug in your palms as everybody stumbles out. The line to the door isn’t very long, thankfully. Getting in you all crack jokes and laugh until you spot someone who’s ahead of you in line. Tonight is gonna be great if theres more people that look like him.

“ID’s”. The staff asks, he’s a giant burly dude with a beard and watermelon sized biceps. You’re the last to be checked and you almost think he sees right through your bullshit. The man narrows his eyes at your ID and hands it back to you.

“Good to go”.

You smile brightly and stride into the club. It’s unbelievably loud, red and blue lasers litter the air and you instantly recognize the song. “Let’s go drink first”. Momo chimes in, holding as many hands as she can so nobody gets lost. You all shimmy through the crowd and you could really use Beomgyu right now, you’ve gotten a bit used to being guided through large groups of people.

The bar is surprisingly empty as you all take a seat next to each other, it’s nice being a good distance away from everyone for once in here.

“What can I get you ladies?”.

They spew off their orders, and to be honest, you’ve never heard of half of them. When the man turns to you notice he has similar hair to Beomgyu.

You seriously need to stop thinking about him, oh my god. You don’t need anything strong so you settle with a margarita, just something to loosen you up a little. He nods and turns around, grabbing bottles and cups.

“I’m shocked you were able to sneak out, Y/n. I’ve taught you well”. Karina giggles, almost tripping over air. Karina can be such a good friend when she wants to be, but when men are involved she’s completely different.

“Thanks for asking me to come along, I appreciate it” You softly smile.

Her features soften and she smiles back, turning to the bartender when he gives her her drink. The margarita that sits in front of you looks tropical and delicious. The little umbrella makes you chuckle as you take a sip, you’re not a big fan of alcohol so it’s nice.

“Oh my god, did you hear about Taehyun?”. Momo giggles, you don’t really bother paying attention to the gossip so you scan the area you’re in. It’s hard to see very far, because of the people and how dark it is but you can just barely make out the guy from the line earlier. He’s walking towards the bar, his lips seem to form a natural pout as he saunters over to a seat not far from you.

The bartender notices him and you can’t figure out what he ordered. You don’t even notice how long you’v been staring for until he makes eye contact with you. Loose strands of his hair fall in front of his enticing eyes and it draws you in.

You watch as his eyes drift from yours, down your figure and then back up. His lip is trapped under his front teeth as he checks you out. Surprisingly, he gives you a flirty wave and a wink after he downs the shot he ordered.

His face is undeniably attractive, his obvious confidence only adds on to it. The man looks away eventually so you do the same, turning back to your friends who are shoving each other at the moment.

“Hey”.

You almost jump at the voice to your side, turning to it you discover it’s the guy from before. Wow, he looks so much better up close. His hair is pushed back aside from some strands in his face.

“Hi, can I help you?”. You hope the smile on your face makes your sentence not as off putting. He glances away for a second as he lightly chuckles, his thumb comes up to swipe at his bottom lip.

“I’m Yeonjun, I just wanted to say that you look stunning”. His voice is sultry and laced with honey, if you weren’t sitting your knees would probably buckle. You shyly giggle and wave off his compliment.

“I’m y/n”. The smirk on his face is alluring as he checks you out up close.

“Well, Y/n. Would you like to dance?”. His hand brushes against your waist and you try not to be too eager as you respond. “I’d love to”. Turning to your friends you nod at him so they get the idea, they all give you the thumbs up and wink at you playfully.

Yeonjun stands and holds out his hand, “Shall we?”. You grin at him and take his hand, he guides you through the sea of people to the filled dance floor and places his hands on your hips. You get the idea pretty quickly as he presses into your backside, the first grind tests the waters and the second is more needy. Soon you are grinding into him to the beat of the random song playing, your hand slithers up his form to his nape and the other one grips one of his own holding your waist.

Yeonjun leans down to whisper into your warmed ears, “You’re really good at this”. You almost moan when his lips skim over the skin of your neck, when you grind into him harder he meets you halfway and you’re basically fucking on the dance floor.

He takes it a step further and lands open mouthed kisses on your neck, the scrape of his teeth against your pulse point has you clenching your thighs tightly.

“Do you wanna-”. Yeonjun is unfortunately cut off when your arm is harshly tugged, you’re ripped from him and only get to let out a “Call me”. You really hope he remembers the girls you were with so this isn’t the last time you see him.

Now…what the fuck? You can barely see the person dragging you because they’re weaving through so many people, the lights don’t help either. You think the person would stop once you’re off the dance floor but they drag you fully outside.

“Beomgyu?”. Oh shit, how did he find you? Is he gonna tell your dad?

He doesn’t say anything as he drags you to your own car. It’s already unlocked as he pushes you into the passenger seat, memories flash back to the first time this happened. He gets in and anger quickly floods in your brain. You were so close to forgetting all about your suffocating crush on him, Yeonjun was the perfect person to take your mind off of Beomgyu.

“What’s your problem?”. You finally say as he drives down a busy road, you can’t see his face because of his hair but you honestly don’t care if he’s mad.

“Like seriously, I was having a great time and you just had to ruin it. Thanks a lot, asshole”. You spit at him, you wanna cry so bad. Just being with Beomgyu taunts you. That seems to strike a nerve with him as he jerks the car to suddenly turn, you end up in a dark and empty parking lot. The only light is from a dim light post at the entrance.

You don’t try and stop your word vomit. “I was finally getting along with my friends too, everything was going fine. Do you realize how hard it is to be around you?” Knowing where this is going your eyes well with tears, it has to be said. “I was finally distracting myself from you and what do you do? Mess it up, i’m so tired of pining after you. All I wanted to do was forget how much i fucking like y-” Your words are silent as one of his hands cradles your face while he leans down to kiss you.

His lips are just as soft as you expected them to be, maybe even more. You can feel how nervous he is as he presses harder into you, changing the atmosphere of the kiss. He breaks away for a split second to harshly pant against your lips before connecting them again and almost devouring your lips. You kiss back with just as much force, a gravelly groan escapes him at your action and he maneuvers the hand on your cheek to grip your jaw.

Wordlessly, he ushers you on his lap—never breaking the searing, lustful, kiss you’re sharing. His hands roam your abdomen but end up on your waist.

“You look so slutty for me in this dress”. He mutters against your lips. You reply with an experimental grind into his crotch. Both of you react with a light sound and his grip on you tightens to help you swivel your hips on him correctly.

He’s getting harder by the second and it has your mind reeling. You fully pull away to whine, “Touch me, Gyu”.

“Watch it, pretty girl. I don’t think you’re the one in charge here, hm? Get in the back”. His voice is cold and you don’t have to be told twice before crawling into your back seat—taking off your shoes the second you sit down. Beomgyu tips his head back for a second and palms himself over his pants before meeting you in your backseat.

He’s on you in seconds, lips attaching to your flushed neck instantly. His kisses move up towards your ear and over your shoulder until he gets to the strap of your dress, his fingers trail up your arm until they take ahold of the strap and pull it down. He pulls down the other one and peels the dress until it’s under your breasts. His lips never leave your skin as he concentrates trailing his mouth down your collarbones and chest.

He nips at the valley in between your breasts and runs his tongue over the red skin. Your hands are currently fisting his thick shirt as your hips try and find any possible smidgen of friction. Beomgyu notices how quickly you melted and submitted to him.

“You’re so needy, do you want more, Angel?” His voice is breathy as he speaks against your neck.

“Please, please give me more Beomgyu”

He stops for a second, moves his head away from you so he can look you in the eyes. His gaze pierces through you in the best way possible.

“It’s Sir, understand?”.

You’re like a deer caught in headlights as you nod dumbly at his erotic statement.

“Yes, Sir”. You mumble through the prominent pout on your lips. He seems pleased with your answer and goes back to assaulting your neck and chest. The feeling of your skin being sucked between his teeth is heightened when his fingers sneak up to your breasts. He gropes the flesh and groans into your marked neck.

“I knew you’d have perfect tits, Angel”.

You let out a whine as he continues, “Ever since I saw you in that towel I knew”. Your hands get lost in his dark brown hair as you’re put under his spell. His hands abandon your breasts to push down the dress fully, the clothing lands on the center con.

Beomgyu leans back and settles on his knees, he takes one of your legs and spreads it wide so he can get a good view of your damp underwear. He’s silent as his fingers drift up and prod at your center, first at your clothed hole and then your clit. The finger he uses swirls around the bud for a second before he grips the waistband of the material and yanks it off of you.

You watch him in awe as he takes care of you, you’ve been wanting this exact thing to happen ever since the dream you’ve had of him.

“Angel, do you remember the first night I slept at your house?” He talks casually as if his fingers aren’t spreading you open for him. It’s difficult to respond due to your heart dropping in humiliation and his fingers delving into your opening.

The stretch of his middle and ring finger is addicting and intoxicating. A swift pinch to your thigh brings you back, “I asked you a question, Angel”.

“Yes, I remember, Sir”. He bites his lip at your breathy voice, he can’t believe this is happening.

“I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and what do I hear? The woman i’m supposed to be looking after pleasuring herself. You wouldn’t happen to know what i’m talking about, would you, Angel?”. He’s smug as he calls you out, the air is sucked from your lungs and your legs would’ve closed if not for the death grip he has on one.

Instead of getting embarrassed you decide to try and embrace it, yea you did touch yourself to the thought of him. “Yes, Sir. Had a dream about you”.

Your confession flicks a smirk onto his features.

“Oh you did? Tell me, Angel, what happened?”. He’s loving this way too much, you had a dream about him? And to add fuel to the fire, you touched yourself to the thought of it.

Your cheeks are unbelievably hot as you relive the dream, “I was on my hands and knees for you..” You stop there, the embarrassment you were trying so hard to push down found it’s way back up again. “I’ll make a deal with you, Angel. If you cum for me right now…I’ll make your dreams come true, hm?”.

You eagerly nod and grind your hips as his fingers become faster, he bends them in a ‘come hither’ motion and pairs it with a rub to your clit with his thumb.

“Doing so good for me, fuck you’re so wet”. His praise is even better than what you imagined that night, his thumb picks up pace and you’re whimpering and whining in return. “You sound so pretty for me, Angel”.

It doesn’t take his praise long before it has you throwing your head back and loudly moaning. Your skin feels like flames as the delicious waves of pleasure roll through you. He helps you ride out your high and then pulls out his fingers, sticking them between his lips. The sight has you in a trance but the way he tells you to open your mouth before sticking the same fingers in has you gone.

“You taste so good, don’t you?”.

You nod your head, whining and looking up at him expectantly. “Since you did so good for me, get on all fours, Angel”. You don’t waste a second before you’re sticking your ass up and leaning on your folded arms. He darkly chuckles at you before you see his shirt fall onto the floor of your car, next the sound of his belt clinks and it has you clenching around nothing.

He stops what he’s doing for a moment and asks, “Can you open this for me?” You turn your head in curiosity to see him holding a silver foil, he brings it closer to your lips so you bite the corner and tear it open. Beomgyu watches intently and feels himself pulse after. He lets out groans as he rolls it on, his fist is tight but he knows you’re tighter.

His hands soon meet your back and they feel amazing as they rub the skin of your hips and waist. “Ready for me, Angel?”.

You moan and push your ass back, his erection is pressed into you and it has you letting out a wanton moan.

“Words, Angel. Use your words”. He reprimands lightly. “Please, please fuck me, Sir. Need you so bad”.

“You need me? You need me to make you feel good, hm?”. He’s getting off on the fact you only need him, nobody else. He gives in at your whiny yes’ and lines himself before pushing in.

“Sir-fuck”. Even with a condom you can still feel every vein and ridge on him, your toes curl at the initial breach and you unknowingly hold your breath. He bottoms out as he groans, nails digging into your skin. Beomgyu looks down at where you’re connected and almost comes right then and there, you’re so wet that you’re dripping onto the seat. His hips jerk forward at the sight and you clench at the sudden moment.

His pace starts slow at first, he drinks you in. Your smell, your voice, how wet you are for him, and how good you look bent over. But, soon after he goes faster he’s fueled with jealousy once more.

“Bet you wish I was that guy you were with, hm? You want me to go get him?”. He grits out through clenched teeth, voice cold.

“Only want you, Sir. Nobody else”. He smugly smirks as he tips his head back, pace never faltering. “You’re mine, Angel. All mine, no one else’s. Understand?”. His voice is commanding and has you trying your best to answer, but the relentless push and pull of him inside of your most intimate areas has muttering and babbling taking over. He gets how you feel but there’s no way he’s letting you out of this without answering, so he leans over you and wraps your hair around his fist—pulling your head up.

“I said, understand?”.

You breathe deeply and try your best, “Y-yes, Sir. I’m a-all y-yours”. He drops your head back down but doesn’t move back to his original position, instead he wraps both arms your stomach and hammers into you. You moan and whine as you drool onto the seat, your legs tremble and threaten to give out any second.

“God, I love seeing you like this. Can barely speak because you love my cock so much”. He lets out a loud moan at the way you clench at his words. He’s drowning in you and couldn’t love it more.

Your noises pick up in volume, along with the way you clench more, he deduces you’re probably gonna come soon.

“You close, Angel? Come for me”. He eggs you on, he loosens a hand wrapped around you and pinches your throbbing clit. The action pushes you over the edge and you’re coming again, you babble out random praises and curse words as you clamp your eyes shut.

Beomgyu pulls out of you and sits down, tipping his head back against the seat and waiting for you to catch your breath. When you come to again it takes you a second to push yourself up. Looking over at him, your jaw almost drops. His lip is caught between his teeth, his eyes are hooded in lust, his skin is flushed and sweaty, and he’s lazily stroking himself while looking you in the eye.

“Come over here and ride me, Angel”. He beckons you over, you couldn’t possibly resist such a request so you scoot over and straddle his thighs. His cock is pushed directly against your cunt and it takes every ounce of restraint in you to not keep grinding against him like this. You raise yourself and he once again pushes himself into you.

He leans forward and grips your ass, kissing the sweaty skin of your neck. His rushed kisses move down to your breasts once more and he takes one into his mouth, both of you moan at it and you stop for a second to grind your hips against his. He lets it go to flattens his tongue over it, swirling over the bud.

“S-sir, oh my god”. He leaves your nipple and tips his head back again, moaning. You’ve never been with someone so vocal before, it’s so hot when he lets out noises and it pushes you closer.

“My angel is so perfect for me, this pussy is mine”. He mutters out, his hips start to meet yours as he thrusts upwards. It takes you by surprise and a small wave of pleasure racks you, so you almost fall onto him and wrap your arms around his neck. You stop moving as his hips fully take over, the hands on your ass push you into him and bring you directly to the edge.

“Gonna cum again, Sir”. You slur out, he hums at you and thrusts faster. “Coming again, Angel. That’s so cute, do it”. His pubic bone rolls against your clit and that’s all it takes for you to come again, your walls spasm around him as you momentarily forget where you are, he’s everywhere all at once and it has your mind hazy.

He’s soon stilling and pushing you further down on him, his hips stutter a bit as he groans out your name while filling the condom. You both are left sweaty and panting.

“Sorry I snuck out”. You mutter as you detach your arms from him, he smiles and lightly chuckles. “It’s okay, I understand”.

He pulls out of you and you both find your respective clothing, you’re pulling up the straps of your dress while he’s getting rid of the condom, but a thought has you pausing. “Did you mean what you said?”. You murmur towards him, he runs a hand through his damp hair and looks at you. “Did you mean what you said?”.

Warmth floods your face again and you can’t look at him as you nod, “Yea, I did”. He doesn’t answer your previous question as he scoots closer and takes your face into his hands, planting a loving kiss onto your swollen lips.

“I like-”. He’s cut off by the ringing of your phone, your heart stops in your chest. What if it’s your dad? Beomgyu seems to think the same as his eyes widen. Your purse is left on the front seat and you grab it before searching for your phone.

Both of your shoulders visibly drop in relief as you read the contact name.-‘Karina’.

“Hello?”

“Y/n, where are you? We’ve been searching everywhere”

“Oh, um-”

“Why do you sound like that? Oh my god did you have sex?”

Your breathing stops and Beomgyu tries his hardest not to laugh loudly.

taglist; @kyrkitten @tyunlovie @loverhyunn @gyufemboy @rencarnationofangel

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #txt x reader #txt x you #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #kpop imagines #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop x you #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu fanfic

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sanjoongie · 3 years

Text

Praise Kink?

ღPairings: San × Reader (f)

ღGenre: pure smut

ღWord count: 1,524

ღWarnings: edging, f receiving oral, male dom, female sub, soft dom, grinding

ღ Rated: 18+, angst and pure smut

ღSummary~ San is determined for you to see you just as he does

One would think, with his face between your thighs and tongue vigorously making a meal of your pussy, that San was having the time of his life. It was safe to assume this was true, simply because that man always enjoyed coaxing any and all reactions from you. But his pussy-eating had a purpose and one that you were failing at miserably.

He removes his tongue from your sopping cunt, takes a long moment to lick his lips and then he raises one eyebrow at you. "So, you gonna say it now?"

"San," You whine his name, drenched in sweat. He had been edging you for about an hour now. Your pussy was so sensitive and achy that you would have come if he inserted just one finger into your hole but he was not letting up on his goal.

"You know what I want to hear, babe," His tone sweet but his face unrelenting.

"I can't--I can't say that! It's not true!" You try to plead with him but it falls on death ears.

San shrugs, "Okay, if you say so."

You let out a long, strangled moan as his tongue goes back to work, slowly encircling your swollen bud, round and round. His dark eyes watch your every bated breath, and you were sure if you could actually see his mouth that he’d be smiling.

"Pl-please San," You beg, "I don't think I can--" As punishment, he takes your clit in his mouth and sucks harshly. Your hips buck upwards and you feel tears making your eyelashes heavy.

"I'm not stopping until you say it," San tells you for the umpteenth time, nuzzling the inside of your thigh with his cheek.

"Why?" You know why, but you don't know why he's so insistent on it, tonight of all nights.

San gets serious. "I found out about the girl. The one that pretended that I was cheating on you with her. The one that said all those horrible things to you. You don't think Wooyoung would have told me?"

You inwardly curse your big-mouthed best friend. He said he would take it to the grave. San didn't need to deal with it. It was your pain to bear. You knew you weren't good enough for him. You knew you weren't pretty enough for him. You knew--

"Babe!" San yells, pulling you from your inward toxic thoughts.

"He shouldn't have told you," You mutter under your breath.

San looks at you like you were crazy. "Shouldn't have--what are you saying? Some girl mentally and verbally abused you, told you that you were trash and not good enough for me, and you don't think that anyone should have told me?!"

You're not able to meet his gaze now. "It's not like I don't think about it all the time. I'm not good enough for you."

The world is silent. You press your lips inward. Time ticks away but it feels like it is going by slowly.

"You take that back right now," San says lowly, almost growling it.

"It's true!" You protest but that's a bad idea.

San is climbing up your body in an instant and slanting his lips across yours. You taste yourself but it's a passing note as San attempts to practically crawl into your mouth. He's desperate to make you believe that he loves the fuck out of you, despite what the world might think about you.

He breaks the kiss, out of breath and eyes shiny with tears. "Why can't you see what I see? A girl that gives and gives and asks for nothing in return. You're so fucking beautiful sometimes it hurts my heart to look at you across the street. Do you even know how much you affect me? One time, you adjusted your thigh highs when you thought no one was looking and I had to walk with a boner for the few blocks it took from the restaurant we ate at. What do you mean, you're not good enough for me? I love you, doesn't that count for anything?!"

Well, you don't know what to say to that, exactly.

"Is my love not enough anymore?"

That breaks you. You cup his head between your hands. "You could smother me to death with your love and I would thank you for it, are you fucking kidding me?!"

San’s watery smile pulls at his lips. "Does this mean you have a choking kink or--?"

You smack him on the shoulder but can't help but laugh under your breath, "No! That's not what that means!"

His smile widens now that he got you to laugh. "So? Are you going to say it or not?"

You purse your lips to the side, "San…"

San’s fully clothed still, so when he nudges his hips forward, the rough fabric brushing against your already sensitive pussy, you feel over stimulated. Your head falls back and you groan. "Why-" nudge "-can't-" nudge "-you-" nudge "-say-" nudge "-it?"

"Because it's embarrassing!" You shout at him. He's driving you insane. Who knew he would use his body as a weapon against you?

San open mouth kisses your collarbone, sucking harshly and making a hickey bloom there. "Babe, do you know how hard I am right now? Do you know what you're doing to me? I've been eating you out for an hour, listening to your pretty whines and moans, and I don't know how much more I can take of this--but I won't stop until you say it."

Fuck, he had to attack you in that regard. You could give a shit about any torture doled out to you--but if he was in pain? "You fucker," You curse.

San giggles, high pitched and gleeful. "You only have to say it once," he says in a sing-song voice.

You lick your lips. You were fighting a losing battle and you knew it. "I--"

San pouts. "Baby, I hurt so much. I'm throbbing and a mess in my pants. All that precum as I bring you to your end again and again and I have to stop because you won't say a simple phrase? I hurt."

You're undone. You already have a hard time denying him anything in the first place. He was pulling out all the big guns and you had lost.

"I am Choi San’s pretty little baby and he loves me."

Your cheeks heat up and you cannot believe you've said it. How you didn't stutter or mess it up or cut yourself off abruptly?--you had no idea.

"And?" San’s face is blank and angry again. He won't be satisfied until you say the rest of it.

You swallow but nothing is going to help you now. "And I want to squish his cute face between my thick, beautiful thighs as the princess that I am. Because I deserve it."

"Good girl."

Quickly, San is pulling his shirt out of his waistband and popping the button of his jeans. You let out a sigh in shaky relief as you hear the zipper go down. Clearly he was about to fuck you and not-- "You're going to set a time and a place for when you sit on my face next week."

"San!" You say in outrageous disbelief.

He quirks that fucking eyebrow at you again. "Did you really think I was just getting you to say that for shits and giggles?"

"I can't believe you!" You twist your head to the side, really the only way you can ignore him.

San sighs. "Seonghwa gets his girl to sit on his face all the time and he's a twig. Baby," San grabs both your hands and puts them on his shoulders, "I can take it!"

You still don't reply. You're sulky now, throbbing, neglected pussy or not.

"If you can be smothered with my love then can't you smother me with your pussy and I can die happy that way too?"

You snort at the absurd statement. San tilts his head to make eye contact with you, smiling encouragingly. You can't stay mad at him, especially when he's doing his best to worm his way back into your good graces.

"You're not allowed to die like that, I would be mortified," You huff.

San leans in to give you an endearing kiss on the cheek with a loud smacking noise. "Promise I won't."

"San?"

"Mmm?"

"I love you."

It's quiet again and it kills you inside so you turn your head to see why San isn't saying it back. His eyes are patient and the corner of his lips lift up. He was waiting for you to look directly at him. "I love you more."

"Please, can I cum now?"

San smirks, satisfied that you're still thinking of your orgasm after all this. "Is my pretty baby impatient, hmmm?"

This was a test and you knew. You had one chance and if you failed, you could look forward to a painful, exhausting but exhilarating and mind-blowing orgasm. Or, you could do as he wanted, play along with him, and make him a happy boyfriend.

"I am."

And that was all the acknowledgement he needed.

#ksmutclub #kvanity #ateez scenarios #choi san scenarios #ღatz #topaz's work

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nekomamiiz · 3 years

Text

are you jealous?

pairing: gojo x f!reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: 18+, college au, mentions of shoko x reader, mentions of alcohol/weed, (not explicitly written that reader and gojo consume but to be safe) dubcon, friends/idiots to lovers, gojo is a simp for reader, bathroom sex, mirror sex, teasing, possessive, slight dacryphilia, size kink if you squint, creampie, a very amused suguru, my drunk writing, half-assed editing

a/n: pls i was beyond fucking blitzed when i wrote this and i just hope y’all like it because it was the best i could do dealing with steamy flashbacks the entire time. feedback and rb’s are always appreciated. love you <3

It’s always a good idea to, at least, pay attention to the advice your friends give you. Especially if you've known that friend for years and they’ve always had your best interests at heart. That friend is Shōko Ieiri and her only concern, her entire life, was to ensure that none of your interests include a certain big-mouthed, blue-eyed man.

She’s going to be so disappointed in you.

It’s Friday night when Shōko invites you over to her apartment to hang out with the two shitheads, Getō and Gojō. You always go over to Shokōs place for those kinds of nights. Where you guys can have fun, talk shit, and reminisce about the crazy times you shared in high school over cheap beer and take-out.

Gojō often falls victim to your and Ieiri’s lack of filter, berating your friend for being ‘the town bicycle’ or simply calling him a slut in the most loving way possible. A few months ago, however, all those friendly jabs came back to bite you in the ass.

“Hey, Suguru.” Gojō is leaning into his friend, looking your way and chuckling. “Remember the time the girls went to that summer camp?”

Thankfully, Shokō is quick to respond.

“You always bring that up! You know we were just messing around. We were counselors and had a whole room to ourselves, so we made the most out of it.” She shrugs off the experience as if it wasn’t the most hilarious and embarrassing moment of both of your lives.

“Okay, but the fact that you guys kept it from us until a few months ago kinda sucks.” He pouts.

“Did you expect a play-by-play?” you say, rolling your eyes, getting up to get a glass of water. You miss the comment Shokō makes about Gojō being a bad influence.

He loves to tease you about that particular summer, even away from the others. Always found it odd that you two grew closer after those weeks. Maybe he was jealous. The first person to go down on you was the woman sitting next to you and not him, of course.

You see Suguru sound asleep when you come back from the kitchen while Shokō is one sip of beer away from dreamland. Then, there’s Satoru, sending a look your way, knowing you’ve been dripping all night. What an asshole. He only gives you that look when you’re on your knees, with his cock in your mouth, watching you sneak small touches to your clit. He knows what he’s doing, and your friends are too stoned to figure out that the vibe has changed between the two of you.

“Well, kiddos, I’m off to bed. Feel free to finish the rest of the beer.”

With that, Ieiri retreats to her room, most likely landing face-first on the bed with a loud snore.

It certainly is difficult being around Gojō and not wanting to jump his bones the first moment you get, but your friends are here, and the thought of them finding out would be devastating.

“Hey, let’s get ready for bed. I’m exhausted.” He gets up from the couch and takes a moment to stretch, careful not to bump into Suguru.

You watch as he treks toward the bathroom, hearing the faucet turn on to brush his teeth. Maybe you’ll be able to sleep tonight, so you follow him, mirroring his actions.

He just stares at you when he’s finished. Studying every one of your features, remembering what it was like when he painted your pretty face in his cum a few weeks ago. That salacious grin is permanently etched on his face in your presence.

“Kinda funny how you treat me like trash around everyone, particularly, Ieiri.” his body is pressing close to yours now, fingers toying with the straps of your top, and you can feel his warm breath on the tops of your ear.

“You’re an ass. You know that right?” both your eyes meet in the reflection.

He can see that irritated twitch of your lip, but the look in your eyes gives so much away—more than you care to admit.

“Hm, you say that like I don’t have you creaming on my cock almost every night.”

“You’re so jealous of something that happened years ago, aren’t you?” you bite back.

He was shocked that you would call him jealous to his face. He was. He would never tell you that, though.

“Not really.” he shrugs off your question.

His hands are now at your waist, riding the fabric of your shirt up your torso a bit. You can barely register that you’re still in Shokō’s house; his wandering hands always manage to make your mind go completely blank. Then he’s digging his needy fingers into your hips and thighs, sneaking his hand into the front of your shorts. He rubs your clit through your panties, hooking the fabric with a single finger and teasing you with it.

“Satoru, we can’t fuck here.” You try to sound as convincing as possible while his fingers are spreading your folds to lightly massage your clit.

He’s tracing the slick at your entrance, teasing your small hole with the pads of his fingers. He knows you’ll never say no to him; you just don’t want your dear friends to find out.

“You sure about that? You’re so wet for me right now.”

Finally, he inserts a finger inside, stroking your inner walls, and feeling you suck him in. You can only hold onto the sink when he presses his body against yours, rutting his hips against the meat of your ass. He’s so fucking hard, and you can’t deny that you want him badly.

“Say you don’t want me to fuck you.” he’s pressing his lips to the back of your neck, softly nipping at your skin. He has you stretched open on two of his thick fingers already, and he can see your resolve crumbling fast. “C’mon, you can do it.”

“I—fuck,” is all you huff out as Gojō strokes over a spot that has you seeing stars. “We have to be so fucking quiet.”

You can see the laugh he’s holding back when you lock eyes in the mirror.

Gojō is quick to roll your shorts down to your thighs, pressing you against the counter, then proceeds to work on his jeans. “Yeah, good luck with that, sweetie.”

With one hand on your hip and one stroking his cock, he starts to tease your entrance with the tip. He likes his dick nice and wet before getting inside, and he knows you hate that he takes his time. You want to cum so badly right now, though, you push back onto his thick shaft. He quickly slips past the tight give of your pussy and relishes in the soft, wet feeling for a moment.

“Fuck—you’re so fuckin’ greedy. You know that right?” he pulls back a bit, letting half of his heavy cock rest inside you.

He bunches your shirt up around your tits, starting to squeeze and play with your nipples. Feeling them bounce in his hand every time his balls collided with your sensitive clit. He can’t help but look down at the jiggle of your ass, too. Growing overwhelmed with the need to fuck you harder and faster.

Only, you just remembered you didn’t close the bathroom door all the way.

“Shit—oh shit—the door. Satoru, you gotta slow down, I—fuck!”

You throw your head on his chest, arching just a bit more, fucking him back. The wet squelch between your thighs, now getting increasingly louder the longer you spend in this position, and Satoru loves it. He loves when you squeeze your thighs together, almost suffocating his cock, and he can see how much you’re struggling to keep your noises down.

“So fuckin’ tight.” he’s panting out in short breaths by your ear again, watching his cock disappear into the warmth of your pussy.

He notices your lack of response and looks at your face in the reflection. Brows knitted together while your eyes remain fixed to the ceiling. He can feel your orgasm approaching fast, evident in how you bite your lip to keep your noises in.

“Gonna cum soon, huh, baby? I can feel you dripping down my balls.”

He wants to spank you so badly. Feel the stinging heat of your skin against him and those cute little mewls you let out when he does so. He wants to see you squirm and shake because of it. For now, he takes one cheek in his hand, entirely in control of the speed and depth of his thrusts.

“Y-yeah, I’m so close!”

You swing one arm back to grab hold of him but can only graze his lower abdomen. You can feel him twitch inside you when your nails tickle his tummy, and he chuckles a bit, making you giggle in return.

“Stop messing around. We’re supposed to be quiet.” he’s trying his best to keep his groans to a minimum, but your greedy little pussy sucks him in so tight it drives him mad.

Gojō is starting to thrust inside you with slow, swift rolls of his hips. Letting the tip of his cock brush against your g-spot just enough to prolong your orgasm and make you whimper his name just the way he likes. But your twitchy little fingers are starting to get him so riled up, and he wants to take his time with you right now.

He quickly grabs your wrist and searches for the other, holding them in one hand, pinning them behind you. You arch your back to get in a more comfortable position; you swear you feel him in your stomach from this angle. He stills inside, taking a moment to appreciate the shape of your body in the mirror, and he can’t help but smile when you cry out softly.

“Please move, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

You feel his other arm wrap around your chest, hand cupping your jaw, forcing you to arch your back more. You can tell he wants nothing more than to pound you until you’re a dumb mess. But right now, the way your eyes are watering from holding back is enough to feed that sadistic part of him.

“Mm fuck—your pussy always feels so good. Squeezing me so tight!” he coos in your ear.

“Satoru, I don’t think I—oh fuck—can keep it down. You’re right at that spot.” you try to warn him because you know you’ll scream out his name.

He doesn’t listen.

“You mean this one?” he asks you sweetly before fucking into you a little rougher at that same angle. “Say you love my cock, and I’ll go a bit easier on you.”

You’re starting to whimper from overstimulation, and you know he feels your walls fluttering around him. Trying your hardest to hold it, but for the sake of your best friends, you give into him.

“Fuck, I love your cock! Only you can make me cum like this, so please, please let me cum!” you beg so nicely, looking into his eyes and swiveling your hips against him.

He would never deny you of any pleasure.

“That’s right, baby—ngh shit—your pretty pussy is all mine.” he finishes with a whine that you would have never heard if not for how close he is.

You feel his cock swell inside, his hot cum filling your cunt. At the same time, your orgasm rips through you, making you still in blinding pleasure. If Gojō weren’t fast enough to cover your mouth, you definitely would have woken up the others. And he keeps rutting into you, a small ‘pap pap pap’ sound still echoes in the tiny bathroom from your juices running down his balls and both your thighs.

The hand that was once covering your mouth is now around your chest again, holding you up. He lets go of your wrists, and you rest your weight against the counter, taking a second to look at Gojō’s sweaty face. He smiles down at you and kisses the top of your head before pulling out of you, sucking in a breath because you’re still clenching so hard around him. He pinches your ass before he cleans you up, praising you for being so good.

That blissful moment only lasted so long, though. The second the two of you walked out of the bathroom, you were met with a smirking Suguru, joint pressed to his lips as he shakes his head side to side.

“I’m not gonna tell Shokō, but next time maybe close the door all the way.” he’s holding back his laughter as Gojō plops on the seat next to him, laughing loudly about this entire exchange.

He always gets you in trouble with his big mouth because not even two minutes later, you hear a door open followed by feet padding down the hallway.

“What are you idiots still doing up?”

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk x fem!reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru #satoru gojō x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #gojo x female reader #nekomamiiz.fics

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hardskz · 5 years

Text

a penny for your thoughts.

pairing — han jisung x female! reader

genre — trope inversion of the soulmate au, college au, enemies to lovers, angst and fluff-ish, smut; oral, possessiveness kink, praise kink, safe word, size kink, first time

synopsis — life isn’t easy when you belong to the 1% of the world population that has a soulmate, know who your soulmate is and happen to be utterly in love with said soulmate’s best friend. alternatively, jisung can hear all of your unfiltered thoughts and has heard enough of your horny fantasies to the point where he wants to throw up, so he takes matters in his own hands.

note — i think i’m gonna cry this work is my 11k word BABY i’ve never been THIS invested over a fic. this is purely self-indulgent and an emotional rollercoaster ride if you ask me. this fic is all over the place it’s chaotic and i apologize in advance for many italics you are welcome i hope you CRY and SUFFER with me because completing this bitch was a midlife crisis in itself. that being said, i appreciate any form of constructive criticism so pls go ahead and rip my baby apart sdkjl

“You’re staring again,” Hyunjin notes. Seungmin and Jeongin stifle a burst of laughter while Felix, whose head is resting on Hyunjin’s lap, sends you a look that resembles Candace from Phineas and Ferb whenever she finds her brothers creating some whacky futuristic shit, laughs like a madman and then resumes to call her mother with an ear-splitting MOOOM! because she’s so certain that her brothers are busted this time.

“Am not,” you huff as you tear your eyes away from the guy just sitting a little bit farther away from you, basking in the warm glow of the sun. Today he’s sitting in the perfect angle, giving you the best view on his side profile. His signature cap is perched right on top of his head but even then, you can see how his eyes brighten up and how the corners of his lips tug upwards as he laughs at his friend’s joke.

“You’re a worse case than the Mary Sue protagonist of every romance anime ever.” Seungmin snorts before he playfully nudges your side with his shoe. “Just say you want Seo Changbin to bang you and go.”

“Hey! We have a child present!” Hyunjin chastises, to which Jeongin rolls his eyes.

“I’m not a child. We’re all in fucking college.”

“Fine, not a child then. The baby has been corrupted! Don’t swear, it sounds so wrong coming from you!”

“Shut up. It’s called freedom of speech!”

“It’s ‘shut up Hyung’ to you!”

Felix groans in distress and is probably rethinking his life choices. Seriously, what does Felix, resident hopeless romantic, see in Hyunjin? Sure, he’s good-looking and a great friend when he’s not bitching around or hovering over the nearest trash can after taking too many shots. But a romantic? Please, Hyunjin can’t even eat without making a mess out of his shirt.

“I don’t want him to bang me,” you mutter and receive a collective ‘yeah sure’ look. “Fine, I don’t want him to bang me only. He’s nice,” you retort before your eyes flit back to him for a millisecond. By now, Changbin has put his hands on the grass and is leaning back, enjoying the sunlight while listening halfheartedly to the other guy blabbering.

“And hot. We get it. Now get dicked,” Seungmin deadpans, earning flabbergasted looks from everyone and a smack from Hyunjin.

“Show a little more empathy, you dickwad. She’s whipped.”

“Anyway—“ Felix sits up, earning a pout from Hyunjin but he blatantly ignores it, and directs the conversation back to the previous topic before the other two bump heads, “(y/n), you have his number. You’re not strangers, so why don’t you just make a move?”

You glance at him with horror in your eyes. “What do you expect me to do? Ring him up and ask him to hang out with me because I find him cute?”

“Uh, duh? Last time I checked, that’s how you ask someone out.”

“Absolutely not.”

“New idea.” Seungmin butts in. “Why don’t you ask Han Jisung—“

“No.”

“Agreed.” Hyunjin shoots you a nod of approval before Seungmin can start yet another interrogation about your bitter hatred towards Jisung. Jisung, who happens to be said friend of Changbin that is laughing beside him right now. “He must think he’s so much better than us because he’s hanging out with the senior geniuses of the music production major. Then again, Seo Changbin and Bang Chan are on a different level than us commoners.”

“Speaking of Chan,” you quickly say to steer the conversation away from the personification of everything you hate. “Where is he? It’s so weird seeing the trio incomplete.”

This time, Jeongin chimes in. “Haven’t you heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Chan and that one language major — you know, the one who collapsed a while back?” When all he’s met with are clueless faces, Jeongin sighs. “Seriously, you guys should keep up with campus news. I swear, everyone and their mothers already know by now. But anyway, they’re soulmates. It’s also the reason why Chan has been pulled out of the boxing team until the end of the semester and had to cancel their training camp as soon as she broke down.”

Felix does a double-take. “But Chan’s the ace of the boxing club!”

“It is what it is.” Jeongin stretches his legs out, shrugging. “What else is to expect when you have the proximity link and need to be around your soulmate within a certain distance unless you want death?”

“Poor guy. Must be a smack in the face for him, now that he’s got a soulmate and happens to have the worst link one could have.” Seungmin says.

“The tattoos are worse though.” Hyunjin fires back. “I mean, you’re literally born with a tattoo of your soulmate’s name and then grow up knowing that you have one? And even if you never meet them, you won’t have better chances with others if you want some romance. Who in their right mind wants to have a lover who’s got someone else’s name tattooed on them since birth?”

“No one.” You chuckle. “Absolutely no one.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you and Jisung would probably be on better terms. He’s sunshine on legs and looks decent from an objective point of view.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe you’re childhood friends and have been neighbors ever since your first shit in your diapers. Perhaps you would be clowned from being inseparable once in a while, but you’d go with it and then shrug it off as if it was nothing.

In another lifetime, another universe, you’d like to believe that being soulmates doesn’t equal the downfall of two people. Sure, the fact that people are bound to each other and the danger of growing too dependent on that person remains, but it probably won’t be so frowned upon. Probably. Hopefully.

However, as much as you want to twist it, another lifetime is not this lifetime, the reality.

In reality, you and Jisung are only neighbors because the universe has some kind of inexplicable hatred towards you. Seriously, you must’ve done something wrong in your previous life to be punished in this one. And because the universe has sadistic tendencies and loves to make you suffer, the laws of the universe are just as equally fucked up.

The concept of soulmates is a lot of things, but most of all, it’s a mystery. There are endless possibilities for soulmate links, not all of them discovered. And unlike popular belief, soulmates do not have to necessarily share the same link. So voilà, even more fuckery from the universe.

There’s only one reason that justifies your wholehearted, unfiltered hatred towards Han Jisung. Well, only one reason that seems justified in this lifetime.

The tattoo is simple; just fine black characters under your collarbone that are nicely hidden under high-cut shirts.

But the fact that it’s his name tattooed on you since birth remains.

“Let me crash here for the night.”

“No.”

“Let me crash here for the night, please.”

“My answer is still no.”

The exasperation is plastered on Jisung’s face as he tries to keep his temper in check. Truth be told, it’s damn satisfying seeing him wanting to rip your head off but refraining to do so. Perhaps you’re enjoying this more than you expected at one o’clock in the morning. For the past five minutes, Jisung has been asking you to let him stay over for the night. You’d save him out of his misery and help a neighbor out who locked himself out of his apartment at this hour — well, if he wasn’t Han Jisung.

By now, he’s growing more impatient with every further rejection. “Oh come on, all my friends live on the other side of town and you can’t expect me to ask the old grandma next door! At this rate, I’m gonna freeze to death overnight!”

“Then go break a window or something,” you deadpan, ignoring the dramatic hand gestures he’s making to accentuate his words.

“The fuck? I’m not going to break into my own place.”

Not wanting to draw out the pointless conversation any longer, you’re about to slam the door shut when he blocks your action with his foot. “C’mon, just this one night. Please.”

He’s not budging anytime soon. His bullheadedness reminds you of Seungmin, who always tries to get Hyunjin wasted whenever you attend those Greek frat parties. Seungmin, who always succeeds in getting Hyunjin wasted, followed by Hyunjin hugging a bucket for the next few hours as he tries to get over the hangover. With a defeated sigh, you gesture Jisung to come inside and don’t wait for him until he’s taken his shoes off at the entryway.

“Look, I know you don’t like me—“

“Well, ‘don’t like’ is putting it very lightly—” you scoff once he’s caught up to you in the living room. It’s not exactly spacious; the couch takes up most of the room and college assignments are spread all over the minuscule coffee table.

“You could at least treat me like a decent human being.”

That statement is enough to get your ears flaming. You whip your head in his direction, voice getting louder. “How can I when your existence is making my life worse than it already is! And I mean it literally! Just seeing your name whenever I look at myself through the mirror sickens me!”

“Stop acting like you’re the only victim here.” Jisung snaps back in the same manner. If there was a little bit of etiquette in the first place, it has all vanished now. “I’m not having it easier when all I hear from you is the dozen ways you want Changbin to fuck you dumb!”

You freeze.

“Cat got your tongue? It’s already bad enough that you have those kinds of thoughts about my best friend every single day.”

“But I thought— y-you had the proximity link?!” This has to be a joke. A very bad one at that. His proximity link is the very sole reason why you lived next to him. His soulmate link is the only reason why you’ve been stuck together like glue since you could walk.

Jisung taps his foot impatiently, running his hand through his hair. “That’s what I thought too until I started hearing things that nobody said around me. First, it was just a few thoughts every other day, but now you’re like an annoying radio that I can’t switch off.”

“Why didn’t you tell me then? I would’ve—“

“Stopped fantasizing about Changbin’s dick? And then you would’ve jumped to the next person. I don’t care if you like him or not, it’s none of my business. Changbin’s hot, anyone with eyes can tell. Besides, it’s not like you have a chance anyway…”

You feel your blood boiling at his underlying message and cross your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jisung doesn’t bat an eyelash and says in a mocking tone as if stating the obvious. “No doubt that Changbin will make you feel good. But could you return the favor?”

That’s a low blow. Even for Jisung, that’s a low blow.

“I get that you’ve got a dirty mind. But those are just fantasies. Could you really execute them just the way you had in your head? You don’t even have experience in the first place.”

“If I sucked you off right now, you wouldn’t even be able to speak properly!” God knows what went over you when you countered. At this point, rage has taken over your brain and you don’t even realize what you just said right away. Not that it matters anyway; all you see is red.

Jisung just raises a brow, clearly unimpressed by your outburst. “Prove it,” he challenges casually and then flops himself onto the couch, legs spread wide. It’s an open invitation. “Go ahead, make me see reason with your oh so mind-blowing skills.”

The only thing you’re able to do physically is gape at him. He is joking, right? As if he actually means it—

“I knew it. Shameless in your head but too flustered to say it out loud, let alone following up with your bold statements.”

That seals the deal. You’re fuelled by anger and the desire to prove him wrong as you drop on your knees and are on eye level with his crotch. However, your spirit dissolves the longer you silently stare and realize that you have no fucking clue on what to do. Jisung is painfully aware of that too.

“I’m more terrified than turned on seeing your angry face.” He lets out an exasperated sigh before he pulls you up and directs you to sit on his lap. “Obviously it’s not working when neither of us is in the mood. You gotta get in the mood first,” he mutters, hands settling on your hips.

The look in his eyes is more composed now, but you can tell he’s being observant. As if you have clues written all over your face, he keeps you under his stern gaze. Then his eyes droop lower to your lips and he slowly leans forward.

Not even a second later, you firmly plant your hands on his shoulder and push him back. “No lips.”

If Jisung is judgemental about your sudden stunt, he doesn’t comment on it. “Anything else, your royal majesty?”

You’re too tired to react to his mockery and roll your eyes. “No marks.”

“I can work with that,” he mumbles more to himself rather to you. Then he leans forward again and buries his face in the crook of your neck. Surprised by his actions and new to the unfamiliar sensation, you tense up. Jisung seems to take notice of that too.

“Relax,” he orders, rubbing circles on your hips to help you loosen up.

Well, that’s easier said than done. It’s already bad enough that you’re gradually exposing yourself as the complete amateur you are, and out of all people who could’ve been the first to do any form of sexual advances on you, it just had to be Jisung. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rejected that one kid in high school who was the only one who ever had a crush on you. Even if that kid wasn’t your type and not a serious commitment anyway, maybe you would’ve at least some sort of experience with dick.

“A-ah—“ your breath hitches when he nips on the patch below your earlobe. He smiles against your skin as if he just made some scientific discovery and swipes his tongue on the same spot, eager to make you squirm. Not wanting to slip up anymore, you clamp your mouth shut with a hand.

“Let me hear you, baby. Just relax, I got you.” When the fuck did his voice start to sound lower and raspier? Where did ‘baby’ come from? All rationality and resistance leave your body when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him.

The cologne of musk lingers strong on him, almost intoxicating even, and you can’t form a cohesive thought anymore. The only things you are painfully aware of are an arm forcing your chest flush against his and his hot breath all over your neck.

You’re so far gone that you fail to notice that you’ve started grinding on his lap. Jisung moans softly into your neck as he encourages you to move with his hands.

“On your knees, baby,” he whispers after a while. A rush of disappointment runs through your veins once he detaches his lips from you and slides you off his lap, but all of that is forgotten once you see the prominent bulge in his pants.

Right. There’s a reason why you ended up in this predicament in the first place.

Jisung urges you to touch him with a simple nudge. “C’mon, baby. Take it off.”

You don’t waste time discarding his sweatpants. Just when you’re about to tug his underwear off, you notice the wet patch on the fabric. A surge of mischief washes over you as you boldly cupped his hard-on over his boxers, causing an obscenely loud moan from him.

He flinches, definitely not expecting that brashness from you, and throws his head back. “S-stop teasing me already and take that goddamn thing off or God help me what I’m going to do if you push my buttons.”

That. That was a threat. That dealt much more damage to you than you like to admit.

As much as you want to watch him break and see if he’d make his threats come true, you decide against your feelings and hook your fingers under the waistband and tug the fabric down in one swift motion. A groan leaves Jisung as his cock, fully hard and leaking precum, is exposed to the cold air. He’s certainly above average; on the longer side probably, and you’re conflicted on whether to think fuck, I want him in my mouth right now or fuck, how on earth is that supposed to fit into my mouth?!

You don’t get far with your inner conflict when a hand grabs a fistful of your hair and slowly urges you closer. The next thing you know, something is tapping your lips and before you fully register it, the tip of Jisung’s cock lies heavy on your tongue.

You carefully look up and meet Jisung’s hooded eyes. His shirt has ridden up a bit and flashes just a little bit of his toned stomach. That’s just enough of an indicator to see that Jisung is holding himself back, in case his irregular breathing hasn’t been a dead giveaway.

Jisung opens his mouth, about to say something, when you give an experimental suck on his dick. “Do something— f-fuck, a little more, baby.”

That’s enough to build your confidence up. You slowly take in more of his dick, sucking carefully and making sure to cover your teeth. The rest that doesn’t fit in your mouth is barely covered with your hands, and you messily try to coordinate your hands, switching between rubbing the base of his dick to cupping his balls.

“Mmh, use more pressure,” Jisung whispers, not trusting the stability of his voice when you fondle with his balls. A groan leaves him when you suck harder on his cock and switch back to swirling your tongue around. For a total beginner, you are holding yourself up better than he expected. Fuck.

“Focus on the tip fir— hhh- aa-ah...” His brain blacks out for a moment when you swirl your tongue around his tip and dare an experimental hum, the vibrations going straight down to his dick. The grip on your hair loosens, but it’s still firm enough to experience a sharp tug. “You’re doing good baby. So good.”

The combination of his sounds, the decent taste of precum on your tongue and the way his adam’s apple bops is enough to send you into sensory overload. You notice the way Jisung tenses his thighs, as to keep them still. You’re about to pull out completely to prevent your drool from getting on your face. However, before you get the chance to complain, he forces his length back on you that it grazes the back of your throat, nearly making you choke.

“Fuck, I— I’m gonna— s-soon—“ he hisses and you take it as a sign to speed up. At this point, your jaw hurts and a mixture of drool and precum drips down your chin. It’s borderline disgusting if you think about it, but the delectable sounds leaving Jisung compensates for it.

He sharply tugs on your hair, ordering you to pull off, but you slap his hand away. “I’m going to spill in your mouth if you don’t pull off right now—“ Jisung chokes on his words when you interrupt him with a hum as if to say so what? It doesn’t help that you’re looking up at him with teary eyes and a lot of conviction, even though you’re visibly struggling to keep half of his dick in your mouth.

When he cums, it’s accompanied but drawn out moans, and you forcing yourself to swallow the horrible texture. It’s not horrible per se, but you’d gladly refuse to swallow a second time if you were given the choice.

Jisung looks down at you with flushed cheeks and is about to wipe off the drool or cum or whatever liquid is staining your bottom lip, but you quickly block his hand. “I’ll clean up by myself.”

For a minuscule second, he looks defeated; he looks borderline disappointed, but before you can pinpoint his feelings for sure, his expression changes. “But what about you?” he asks, eyes raking down your body and stopping at the waistband of your pants.

“I’ll deal with it on my own.” You shrug, avoiding his eyes. All of sudden, you find it hard to breathe in the room as the realization settles into your brain. You just sucked off Jisung. Jisung, out of all fucking people.

“You sure?” Your eyes flit to him who looks like he’s been observing you the entire time. His breathing has calmed down, his lips look a little bit plumper than before and his hair sticks out in all different directions. Looking at his current state makes you feel sick, and your undying hatred for him starts growing again. It’s your fault that he looks so fucked out and—

Why the fuck did you even do that?

“Yes. Now stop asking before I change my mind and kick you out.”

Before he can have the last word, you turn on your heels and rush into your bedroom, ignoring the fact that your underwear is practically drenched.

You wake up to the smell of pancakes emerging from the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m making breakfast?” Jisung throws you a questioning look and then plates the last batch of pancakes from the pan. “It’s the least I can do after you were friendly enough to let me crash on the couch.”

Your eyes wander to the countertop to the two plates stacked with pancakes. Jisung finishes up the second plate and hands it out to you.

You stare dumbly at the plate. It’s too early for your brain to mouth filter to work, so the first thing you spit out is, “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

“Are you fucking serious—“ Jisung squeezes his eyes shut, mutters something inaudible under his breath before he puts on the fakest smile he can muster. “I can take a bite if you really insist.”

“Give me that plate.” You point to the other plate on the counter. Presentation-wise, it looks the same as the one Jisung is offering you, minus the visible steam.

“There. Wanna switch again or can I finally eat?” he scoffs when you walk past him to get cutlery and sit at the dining table; it’s essentially a round wooden table where one of the legs is about to break. Two plates and a pitcher at most take up the entire surface. You really should consider buying a new table, but you have better things to spend on rather than that.

From your peripheral vision, you see Jisung rolling his eyes. Perhaps you were making an entire unnecessary circus, critically cutting through the pancake and inspecting each and every side before stuffing it in your mouth. But again, in your defense, it’s too early in the morning to show basic etiquette towards him out of all people.

You have to admit that visually, the pancakes look good. What you didn’t expect were the pancakes to taste just how they look. It looks like you couldn’t contain your surprise in you, judging by the amused smirk that finds its way onto Jisung’s face as he claims the chair across from you.

“As if you could actually cook,” you splutter because there’s no fucking way you are giving him that satisfaction of the day.

However, it seems to bemuse him even more. “You literally eat this every day and know the recipe by heart. With the excessive number of times you recite the ingredients a day, obviously, something got stuck in my brain,” he explains while cutting through his own portion.

The rest of breakfast is spent in silence. You both finish at the same time and while you’re washing the dishes, he’s stayed put in the chair, mindlessly checking something on his phone.

“You didn’t have to cook, you know. You could’ve just left.” you start. It’s already awkward enough that he’s still here. Bloody hell, you should’ve just waited with the plates and ushered him out of your place instead of just getting away as fast as possible from the table. Now that you think about it, this was probably the only time you two were somewhat amicable at such proximity. (Even if you didn’t talk at all. Still, it’s progress.)

He drops his phone on the table with a soft ‘bang’. “It’s the least I could do. Besides, I was starving too.”

“In other words, you’re taking advantage of my fridge?”

“Exactly.”

Just as you’re drying your hands, he’s about to leave. “I’ll get going, lecture’s starting in a few. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here.”

You just shoot him a weird look. “You already thanked me once. How often do you wanna repeat yourself?”

Jisung rolls his eyes. “Fine, next time I’ll just leave without a word then.”

It’s when he’s finally out of the door that his last words sink in.

“Yo, I have pics of sweaty Changbin in a jersey. How much do you wanna pay for those gems?”

You nearly choke on air. “What the fuck?” Really, that’s the only appropriate reaction.

“Hyunjin, this needs more context.” Felix looks like he’s seriously second-guessing his taste in men before shaking it off with a sigh and elaborates. “He’s been trying to find out some scoop about Chan for the campus blog and caught him in his angry boxer mode and Changbin was also there assisting him. Hey, did you know that Chan doesn’t tape his hands before punching the bag? Fuck, that’s so intimidating but so hot at the same time—“

“Yah! I’m your boyfriend! How can you say that in front of me?!”

Changbin. Changbin in a jersey. Changbin in a jersey and drenched in sweat. And Hyunjin seriously has HQ pictures of that Changbin.

It really, absolutely shouldn’t have been the first thing that crossed your mind, but the idea of that Changbin — bonus if he still has anger pent up in him — barging into your place and instantly throwing you on the bed—

“I’m not a perverted creep who’s gonna buy pictures of him that he doesn’t even know exist. Besides, isn’t that a violation of his rights? He never consented to those pics. This is college, you’re only working for the campus blog, not fucking Dispatch.” you deadpan.

“So you don’t even want to take a sneak peek at a picture?”

“No.”

You barely stepped a foot into your apartment when Jisung storms out of his own place and stops in front of you. “You fucking liar.”

“Excuse me? What the— hmph!”

The next thing you know, Jisung forces his way into your hallway, slams the door shut and crowds you against it. His face is invading your personal space, eyes enraged and jaw locked. Even though his anger is far from justified as you haven’t glanced at him ever since he stayed over, a tiny part of you believes that you pissed him off for good. It's not the first time you witness him angry. However, it's the first time you witness him look as if someone murdered his family and was trying to get revenge.

“I thought you took care of it yourself!”

“Took care of what?”

“Did you already forget that I can read your mind?!”

You scrunch your nose, trying to connect the dots in his words. It doesn't take long for you to realize that there’s no point in trying. A frustrated groan leaves you. “Why are you getting so riled up? I just breathed and you stormed into my place!”

“‘Bullshit. You weren’t just breathing,” he snaps, and you flinch when his hand lands a few inches beside your face with a loud pang. “You were thinking of Changbin again! And I mean that in the thousand sex positions and locations you want him to bang you kind of thinking! And also—“

“Also what?”

“I know you’ve been pent up for days. Seriously, why don’t you just get off like every other sane human being?”

His brutal delivery leaves you flabbergasted. How the fuck does he know that? No. No. No. He doesn’t know. He can’t. Just because he can read your mind doesn’t mean that you didn’t pleasure yourself after giving him that blowjob. Jisung’s probably bluffing — he has to be bluffing.

“W-why should I answer you?” you stutter. Suddenly the walls look much more interesting. When was the last time you painted the walls? Maybe it’s time to switch things up—

“Are you really about to get all cocky with me? Give me a break.” Jisung chews on his bottom lip after little deliberation. “You wanna know why? Because one of my best friends is going through a hard time that can utterly destroy his entire future thanks to the fucking universe! If that isn’t stressful as it is, I also see and hear all kinds of things you want Changbin to do to you. And your fantasies are also affecting me.”

You stare at him as if he sprouted eight new legs. “So you’ve also been…?”

“Sexually frustrated? Fuck yes. And it’s all your fault. So take responsibility and do something against it before I do.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“So what if I am?”

A cold shiver runs down your spine once you meet his stone-cold gaze. Frustration is displayed all over his features, from his labored breaths to the raised brow. He’s not playing mind games this time, he’s actually frustrated.

There are a billion red flags, a billion blinking signs saying NO DON’T YOU EVEN THINK OF DOING THIS! DON’T BE A FUCKING IDIOT in your mind. There are so many countless reasons why you should listen to your head, but the way Jisung is lusting after you is terrifyingly attractive.

You don’t trust your voice to respond verbally. Instead, you look down at your trembling hand and tug at the hem of his shirt. It’s just then when you also realize that your thighs are clenched. Fuck.

Jisung takes the hint. In the blink of an eye, he’s yanking you to your room, kicks the door shut with a loud ‘thud’, and manhandles you on the bed. You’re too stunned to react, and gulp when he hovers over you and strips off his jacket, leaving him in a white shirt that doesn’t hide his toned arms.

“Use the color system, alright? Green when everything is alright, yellow when you want me to slow down, and red when you want me to stop for good?” he asks.

“I know what the color system is,” you mutter, tearing your eyes away from him.

“That’s not an answer to my question.” he presses.

“Fine, color system it is. There! Happy? Now get on with it—“

Jisung pins your wrists above your head vigorously. “You don’t call the shots here. I do.”

Your stomach swoops. You really should’ve listened to your brain. This Jisung isn’t comparable with the Jisung you sucked off a few days ago. That Jisung was cocky — he’s always cocky, what are you even saying — but he still gave you room to breathe. This Jisung is downright scary.

“Good thing for you, I know exactly what you want me to do—” he starts sinisterly as his thigh settles firmly between your legs, pressing up against your clothed core. You suddenly regret wearing a skirt. “—and trust me baby, even if I couldn’t read your mind, I would do all those things because that’s what I plan on doing to you regardless.”

The look he gives you should be illegal. He shouldn’t be in the position to look down at you, as if he’s the king and has free reign over the consequences you are about to bear. Your head suddenly feels dizzy, and it’s way too hot in the room. It’s as if your bedroom has morphed into some vacuum as you’re desperately trying to breathe. Your system ceases to function once he presses his thigh even harder on your cunt, and all you manage to make is a pathetic whimper.

A menacing grin makes its way to his face. He’s clearly thriving on this ego-boost and continues to grind his thigh on you until your hips start to sway along. It seems like you found your voice again once he leans down and nibbles on your neck. Your moans are barely audible at first, but they slowly turn into drawn out mewls and labored breaths.

Your eyes snap open when he suddenly retreats his thigh and holds your hip in a vice grip, stopping you from moving. “W-what the fuck? Why did you stop?”

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Huh?” You squint at him. “But you can read my mind!”

“I want you to say it out loud.”

There’s no way in the universe that you’ll do that. You’ll gladly wipe off that shit-eating grin out of his face whether he likes it or not, but with his hold on your wrists, that is deemed impossible.

You should say something out loud though. Yellow. That would save you from the humiliation. You could regain at least an ounce of control, not feel so pathetic anymore. It’s a simple word, just two syllables, six letters. The tables can be turned to your advantage. It’s easy.

You don’t.

“You’re embarrassed, aren’t you? You can’t say all those filthy thoughts in your head out loud because you’re ashamed, huh? Not when you love feeling so powerless, subject to anything I do to you. Face it baby, just admit that you’re a needy little bitch who wants to get off on my fingers so bad, and I’ll give you what you want,” Jisung growls in between hot, wet kisses he leaves on your neck.

“I—“ you whimper after some difficulties, “I’m your needy little bitch w-who wants to get off on your fingers.”

Jisung’s head pipes up, his face just hovering a couple of inches away from yours. With that little distance between you, you know it’s not a trick of the light and that his eyes are blown up with hunger, hunger, and more hunger. "Not just any bitch, but mine? Do you like it when I call you mine?"

You nod. From there on, it’s a chain reaction.

He wastes no time slipping his fingers past your panties, mindlessly trailing along your folds. You throw your head back in pleasure, bucking your hips into his touch. A cry leaves you the moment he slips a finger inside you, his thumb simultaneously flicking your clit. It’s sensory overload, rendering your rationality to a standstill.

Your utter downfall is marked once Jisung adds a second finger, never slowing down. He groans at the way you clench around him like a maniac, and the sounds he makes send jolts all over your body. You’re writhing under his grasp at this point, overstimulated by everything yet at the same time, you feel your arousal slowly fading.

“Does my baby feel good? Are you close?” Jisung asks, nipping on your earlobe.

“I don’t know,” you whisper.

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know’?”

The pit in your stomach grows. You’ve never experienced claustrophobia, but right now, it’s like everything’s suffocating you. “A-as in I don’t fucking know!” you exclaim shakily.

Jisung stops his movements. The weight on your wrists is lifted, and he looks at you, face unreadable. “(y/n), color. What’s your color?”

“Green. It’s just...” your trail off, avoiding his eyes.

“Just...?”

“I’ve never come before,” you confess in defeat. You really can’t believe that Jisung out of all people is the one to make the call of judgment. “I mean it! I’ve tried getting myself off but I never managed to... so cut me some fucking slack because I’m trying my best here and am still new to everything!”

Jisung stays silent. He stares at you in… confusion? disbelief? You really have no clue how to read his expression. Something negative for sure, though. He’s Satan’s spawn, for fuck’s sake. He’s probably thinking twice about going down on you, thinking about the gravity of a mistake he’s dealing with this time. He just has no clue how to articulate his irritation—

“You’re so cute, fucking hell,” he whispers.

You do a double-take. What? What did he say?

A small chuckle escapes his lips. As if he doesn’t mind. Wait. He doesn’t mind. “I’ll take good care of you. Trust me on this,” he says.

“That’s a little late coming from you, your fingers are literally up my vagi— h-ha-aah—“

“Just shut up and let me do the work.” Jisung rolls his eyes as he works you up again, fingers moving at a slower pace this time. Within minutes, he’s reduced you into a panting, stuttering mess. “You look so tiny and helpless underneath me. How adorable,” he coos, to which you just whine.

“Yeah? You like it when I call you tiny? Like it when your tight cunt already feels stuffed with just two fingers? Maybe we should stretch it to a third one, think you can handle that?” he presses on. That’s when he rams his fingers into a particular spot, making you arch your back. A knowing smile makes its way onto his lips. “Found it.”

“N-no, fuck— t-too much—” you babble, but he continues to abuse your sweet spot without remorse.

An unfamiliar pressure builds up in your abdomen, threatening to burst. Your whines grow louder, breaths shallower. You squeeze your eyes shut as you thrust your hips into his hand, desperate for more friction. “Jisung, I think I’m gonna—”

“Oh no, not like this,” he growls. “Keep your eyes open. I want you to look at me when you cum. So you’ll remember that it was me who made you cum for the first time. It’s me who’s making you feel good.”

That is easier said than done. You manage to open your eyes, though with a lot of difficulties. Scratch that, your eyes are barely open. Jisung is a blurry image, and you’re unable to register everything he says, the sound of his fingers squelching in your heat blaring in your ears.

You deem it fucking impossible to keep your eyes open when your orgasm hits you hard, body spasming from the sensation. But you keep on trying, keep forcing to set your eyes on him.

It’s all worth it though when the reward you get is a proud smile on his face, as well as streams of praises coming from his mouth.

It’s a continuous pattern that goes as follows:

1. You spend your days glued to your friends.

2. At least one of them (usually, it’s Seungmin) preaches how you should get your shit together and ask Changbin out.

3. Somehow, Changbin manages to leave a strong presence in your fantasies and you end up daydreaming about a scenario that stars him, you and a bed (if you’re feeling more daring, any other kind of surface or object he could pound you into.)

4. Jisung notices and forces the horniness out of your system.

5. You tell yourself that it’s the last time Jisung has such control over you.

And then the cycle repeats.

But here’s the thing: you find yourself doing no. 5 you with less conviction the more it happens. No. 5 is a formality at this point. You don’t know when you went the wrong path, but are you really in a position to complain? Jisung is good with you, he’s good with his fingers, even better with his mouth.

But then there’s this side of Jisung after he’s ruined you. He knows what you want to eat after you’re all cleaned up, knows what show you want to watch, knows if you want to just drop dead in bed or need someone to force you to finish your uni assignments. In short: Jisung is good. If you ever said that out loud and someone caught wind of it, they might assume that you liked him.

But Changbin. You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin—

You like Changbin, right?

“You’ve been looking at me as if I had the word CLOWN written over my forehead. Do I have something on my face or what?” you cross your arms and are met with your friends quickly averting their eyes from you.

Felix is the first one to break the silence. “Is that a new dress?”

“Not really. I recently found it when I cleared out my closet and decided to give it one more try. Why—“ you pause, and your expression turns grim once it dawns on you. “I look ridiculous in this, don’t I?”

“Yeah.”

“No!”

“You look like a clown.”

“Seungmin-Hyung, did you really just???”

If your crippling self-esteem hadn’t reached its all-time low before, then it definitely did now. “Geez, thanks,” you deadpan.

Jeongin is panicking, trying to provide some damage control as Felix snaps at Hyunjin and Seungmin. “Nobody cares about your two cents!”

“Well, but she asked for our opinion!”

“Nobody cares about your honest two cents!”

“Let’s just have lunch at the burger place and talk about this later, Hyung!”

You’re still dazed, chuckling dryly like those cartoon characters usually do when their soul leaves their body after someone dragged them. The entire situation is downright sad to witness. Is this a sign that your period is coming soon? That’s it! That probably explains why you’re acting so uncharacteristically sensitive today—

“The dress suits you, (y/n). You should wear it more often,” Changbin says.

“Hah?” you flinch and you’re sure your soul actually left your body when you turn to face Changbin smiling genuinely at you. Out of your periphery, you see Jisung and Chan behind him, but that’s not the point.

What? The? Fuck? Did he really just? Did Changbin just… compliment you?

You don’t realize how long you’ve dumbly stared at him until Jeongin nudges you. “Uhhhh, thanks!” you squeak out, cringing at how your voice just went up by an octave. You can feel Jeongin facepalming internally at your response, but you don’t blame him; you’d most likely do the same.

Changbin just smiles before he turns away to get to his next class, tugging Jisung and Chan with him.

Nevermind. Wearing this dress was the best decision you’ve made in your entire college career. The way you suddenly beam almost gives Felix whiplash — it’s obvious in the way he stares at you as if he ended up watching a comedy instead of the melodrama he was expecting. Hyunjin seems just as flabberghasted, Jeongin is still cringing from the secondhand embarrassment, and Seungmin just grins.

“Ah, so lover boy is the reason, I see.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Oh my god, just shut up, Seungmin.”

Jisung is eating you out with such fervor that has you sobbing and thrashing around. He’s merciless in every literal sense, keeping your hips planted on the couch with his hands to the point where veins are bulging out, and lapping up your juices with his tongue, continuing even though you already came. He only pulls away, lips glistening in your release, once you tug on his hair despite his orders to not do that.

“Already spent now? But baby, we just started.” he pouts. “Or is it because it’s me? Would you defy if Changbin was the one eating you out?”

You stare at him with blown out eyes. Why the fuck is he bringing up Changbin now? The words hang heavy in your throat and are threatening to burst, but the death stare he delivers stops you from doing so.

Something’s not right.

“Don’t tell me... you’re wet again because I just mentioned Changbin. Changbin this, Changbin that, huh? It’s always only Changbin, Changbin, Changbin. And I thought I was doing you good all along,” he rages, making you flinch. He can be terrifying when he wants to be, but this time, he seems completely out of it. “You know what? I’m fucking done with holding back. You’re mine, got it?”

With that, he dives back into your cunt, sucking harshly on your clit as he slides a finger in you. You try to pry him off, but his weight is restraining you to the sofa.

“Jisung, it hurts— ouch—“ Panic starts to rise in you when he finally detaches himself from your nub, but instead, moves down to your thighs and starts sucking on the skin with a force much harder than you’re used from him. “What are you doing? S-stop—!”

“You’re mine, you’re supposed to be mine. I am literally written on your skin. So why can’t you just wish to be with me? Do I have to mark you up so that you’ll finally get it?”

It hurts. It hurts. Once you feel teeth on your skin, you burst into tears. “Red, Jisung, red!”

As if it was the spell to break the cast, Jisung finally snaps out of it. His features break once his eyes meet yours. Regret sticks onto him like a second skin, and he slightly moves his hand in an attempt to reach out to you. Your muscles react faster though, and you instinctively pull your legs towards yourself and shy away from him. The way his face drops by another layer of remorse tugs at your heartstrings, but the impending fear overpowers everything else you’re feeling.

“What’s going on? What went over you?” you ask.

Jisung’s breath is shaky. He feverishly opens his mouth several times, but no sound is coming out. He’s struggling to find the right words, maybe trying to find a somewhat reasonable justification for his behavior. In the end, he lets out a defeated sigh. “I can’t do this anymore without having feelings—” his voice is weak and vulnerable and you’ve never witnessed him break down like this before, “—I like you. I like you the way you like Changbin. I just...”

Silence.

“Leave,” you whisper, but in this silence, your voice rings out loud and clear. This is… too much weight for your heart to carry.

Jisung complies. He grabs his belongings from the floor, slips on his shirt, and leaves with his head hung low. His footsteps grow more and more distant, but then he stops.

“Are you really in love with Changbin?” His voice cracks.

You don’t muster up the courage to face him. “Just read my mind.”

It’s silent again. Too overwhelming. You’re waiting for yet another outburst of him, waiting for his “I want you to say it out loud”, because that’s how the conversation always goes.

The last thing you hear is the front door falling in its lock with a soft click.

You like Changbin. You like Changbin you like Changbin you like Changbin you like—

You like him, right?

Things have changed.

You and Jisung haven’t crossed paths ever since, not even passed each other by in the hallways. It’s weird since you’ve grown used to seeing him every day outside of your apartment complex. You’ve never really acknowledged each other’s presence with a wave or something in the sorts; it was just a second where your eyes met, and then your days went on.

That being said, you run into Changbin quite frequently. If you ever exchanged words, it’s nothing more than friendly small talk and the one or other compliment about his music. Talking to Changbin is nice; he makes you smile.

You know a little bit more about Changbin now, like his favorite ice cream flavor or the fact that he has a pokemon plushie named Gyu. It’s cute, and you chuckle when you think about how you’d pay good money for that information a few weeks ago.

Changbin is nice, and there’s nothing more to the story.

The chaotic quartett you call your friends however, doesn’t seem to buy it. They are loud and nosey and have eyes, so it was set in stone that they’d tease you about it sooner or later. It’s all fun and games, and you played along with it at first, because that’s how you guys are. But as time went on, when the banter became so repetitive and blown out of proportion to the point where they have made clowning you about your small interactions with Changbin the pinnacle of their entertainment, you’ve begun to be fed up by it.

“Will you finally stop bringing him up in an indecent manner every single lunch break? Or even better, stop bringing him up altogether?” You snap, which shocks everyone at the table because you never snap.

Nobody has time to react as you quickly stomp away to grab some fresh air. You mutter out every curse under the sun, not intending to let your anger take over you this much. You’ve only made it past the door when Felix catches up to you, placing a hand over your shoulder.

“(y/n), what’s the matter? Clearly, something’s bothering you. And I know it’s not because of just Seungmin.” Concern is woven in his smooth voice.

You have to admit, it was a smart and calculated move from your friends to send Felix your way. He’s always been the compassionate one out of your little friend group. Like a pillar, he’s the one who keeps you all grounded (and he’s the one to drive your asses back home after the wild Alpha Beta Gamma frat parties).

“I don’t like Changbin that way, I realized. So it’d be very much appreciated if you asses didn’t allude to that every time,” you huff.

Felix sends you an understanding smile. “We can work that out. You know that Hyunjin and Seungmin in particular can be insensitive and sometimes don’t realize they’ve taken things too far..”

“Fine, but that’s not the main thing that’s eating me up alive, Felix.” you sigh. The words seem to flow out of your mouth like a waterfall. “I’ve realized I’ve never really liked Changbin. Okay, fine, he was just a crush I had but I don’t like him.”

He nods slowly, his brain processing your ramble. “So you like someone else.”

“Yes. And I don’t know how to fix it because we got into a huge fight.”

“Talk to them. That’s the only thing left to do.” His response is immediate, and he says it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Every relationship has its ups and downs, and if you want to be committed, you have to fight for it. If you were made for one another, you’ll make it.”

The last part makes you laugh internally. If only he knew.

“Let me guess, you expect me to barge into his place to sort things out,” you say.

Felix gives you the look of judgment. “I mean, you could also show some human decency and text him in advance so he’s also prepared. But that works fine too.”

Come to think of it, you’ve never been to Jisung’s apartment. That’s about to change when you knock on his door sometime in the evening, shortly after sunset.

Jisung’s face immediately drops once he opens the door. “What are you doing here?” His voice is soft, drenched in regret.

It’s not that his appearance has reached rock bottom. He still takes good care of himself; however, you pick up the dark circles under his eyes and his complexion seems a little paler. Not sickeningly pale, but in a sense that he hasn’t seen the light of day for a few consecutive days.

You shift your weight on one leg and fiddle with your fingers. “Can we talk?”

Jisung gulps. “Yeah, sure,” he mumbles after a moment of hesitation before inviting you in.

“I’ve thought a long time about this. Everything, really,” you start awkwardly as soon as you’re both standing stiffly in his living room. “I, um…”

You cringe inwardly as your voice trails off. Truth be told, you’ve rehearsed what you wanted to say many times a few hours ago. Even wrote down the entire speech. Then threw the draft away, only to compose a new one. And then again and again and again. After what felt like an eternity, you had polished your final speech and memorized it from top to bottom, even making sure that your flow sounded natural. But now that this is the real deal, your mind goes blank. Of course, of fucking course, your illiterate brain had to give up on you in the situation that mattered the most.

Jisung purses his lips. “Do you want something to drink first? No need to rush—”

“I don’t like Changbin!” you blurt out. Jisung stares at you in confusion. “I mean, I used to like Changbin — I still do, he’s a nice guy! Don’t get me wrong — but that’s all he is. He’s… nice. I like him, as a friendly guy. I had a crush on him, but now it’s just, uh, like. Platonic! Yeah, platonic.”

Despite him nodding slowly, you know that he is still lost. You would be too if you were on the receiving end of this painfully clumsy delivery.

You give yourself a mental slap as you take a deep breath. It can’t get any worse than this. Definitely impossible. You’ve already proven to him how bad your public speaking skills are. Might as well get over it with the bluntest words. “I miss you. And not because of the sexual things we did, but everything else. I miss you coming over, miss the movie night, and all that. I miss you, Jisung.”

He stares at you silently. Your eyes search his face for any sign of emotion, and for one too many times, Jisung is impossible to read. Okay, perhaps you did manage to tell him what you wanted to tell him even worse than whatever the fuck your initial attempt was.

But then his blank armor cracks. Little by little, his eyes soften, disbelief and remorse on display for you to see. Jisung is looking at you as if his world has fallen apart even more. He’s looking at you as if he’s clinging to the last threads of reason, trying to make sense of the situation. He’s looking at you with eyes that could hold stars behind them, stars that were supposed to burn out yet shine brighter than the universe.

“How can you say that? I hurt you. I made you cry! I was being a selfish asshole who put out his anger on you!” he exclaims, voice breaking towards the end. Pain clouds his red eyes, and he’s fighting to keep the tears at bay.

You slowly prod closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn’t react once, not even when you stand directly in front of him. Not even when you gently place your hands on a shoulder each. Not until you say, “It’s alright. I’m alright. No hard feelings.”

That’s his breaking point. Tears stream down his face, while quiet hiccups jump out of his throat. “How can you be so nice to me?” His sobs are muffled as he eases into your touch, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. Instinctively, he wraps his arms around your waist, clinging onto you as if you’re his lifeline.

The answer is simple, you say to yourself, as you thread a hand in his hair. “We’re soulmates.”

The weight of the words hangs in the air, shattering the previous tension and all the worries in your heart. It’s liberating, finally being able to say it out loud without feeling like an abnormality for saying those words with happiness. You’re soulmates. You’re soulmates, and that’s okay.

Jisung’s sobs resound throughout the room, and so do his countless, tiny yeah, we are’s. You need a moment before you register the wetness on your face. It feels like an eternity standing in his warm embrace, even after there are no more tears left to cry.

“Can I kiss you?” Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but Jisung catches it. two fingers gently lift your chin so that you’re facing him. You almost melt when your eyes meet, his gaze filled with adoration that makes you want to burst at the seams.

“Yeah. I’d love that.” Jisung smiles.

It costs you your willpower to tear your eyes away from him before they flutter down to his lips. Despite his bottom lip being a little cracked, they look inviting and you wonder what they taste like. You expect him to nudge you, expect him to tell you to hurry up and do something because you’re pretty sure you’re staring at his lips for far too long.

He doesn’t. The grip on your chin is loose as if to tell you to take your time and go at your own pace. But the longer you wait, the more reluctance builds up. It’s a lot of power he’s given you; hell, it’s the first time he hands the reigns to you.

“Can you… uhm… I’ve never done this before, so yeah…” you look at him with a crooked smile.

The breathless chuckle that leaves him sounds like music to your ears. Jisung moves his hand to the back of your neck before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is short and sweet, but that alone suffices to make the butterflies in your stomach burst. The faint taste of coke lingers on him, and before you know it, you’re kissing again. Jisung’s lips are like an addiction, reeling you back in for another one. Somewhere along the way, the kisses change. Innocent presses of lips are long forgotten, replaced by teeth playfully tugging on your bottom lip, and Jisung kissing you deeper to the point where he steals all oxygen out of your lungs.

Your hands slide down his chest, tugging on his shirt. Startled by your bold actions, he pulls away, but you catch him back into another liplock that leaves the two of you breathless. All you can think of clearly is Jisung Jisung Jisung—

This time he forces himself away from you. Gasping for air, he places his forehead on yours. “If we go farther than this, then I don’t know if I can control myself.” His warning is barely above a whisper.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back.

That’s all the reassurance he needs before leading you to his bedroom, all the whilst latching onto your lips once more. He doesn’t let go of you until your back hits the soft mattress and he’s on top of you. Warm, slightly calloused hands trail from your cheeks to the hem of your shirt.

“Color?”

“Green,” you respond, smiling up at him. The sun has long vanished at the horizon, replaced by the dim moon and stars. Despite only a little light surging past the blinds into the room, you can see Jisung’s features crystal clear. The endearing smile is cast into the back of your mind, so is the delicacy in his touch, fingertips lightly grazing your skin as he sheds all your clothes off until you’re left in your underwear. After hearing your complaints, he discards his own clothes with an amused glint in his eyes.

Jisung takes his time pounding every single detail of your features into his memory. His hands roam all over your body, inciting goosebumps. You lean into his touch with a sigh and flit your gaze to him once he stops on a particular spot.

The look on his face is unreadable, but the hesitation in his voice speaks for itself. “Does this bug you?” he asks, uncertainty laced in it as he runs his finger over each character of his name that’s inked under your collarbone. You shake your head with a hum that turns into a soft moan once he leaves kisses on the spots his finger burned before, one for each letter. Eventually, his actions spiral out to sucking lovebites and rutting his bulge against your heat, enticing louder whines out of you. Your vision morphs into blurriness as you move your hips in sync with his, locking your arms around his neck to pull him even closer to you.

“(y/n), baby…” Jisung heaves for air, “Is it okay if I…?.”

“Please,” you mewl, “want you inside me.” Your desperation must’ve shone through your tone, as Jisung presses a loving kiss on your forehead before he reaches over to the nightstand for a condom, grinning like a lovesick idiot.

In books and movies, this is the part where the virgin would reach peak nervousness. Too many fears would be inhabiting their mind; the fear of pain, fear of not fulfilling their partner’s needs, fear of the entire situation, essentially. Whatever they depict in those books and movies, it doesn’t match up with the warmth and want pumping in your veins. Even after Jisung slipped your and his underwear off and slid the condom on his leaking cock, there’s no sign of fear bubbling in you. It’s rather the opposite; you nudge him to finally slide into you.

“So impatient,” he tuts playfully, and because he can’t help being a bit sadistic, he teases your dripping entrance with the tip of his cock. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the frustration of clenching around nothing. You feel like crying for good once he slowly pushes into you. The stretch feels unfamiliar and completely different than what you’re used to from his fingers, but it’s not unpleasant as you throw your head back. While you’re adjusting to his girth, Jisung observes your every expression, faltering whenever you scrunch your eyes shut.

“You still there?” he asks in hushed tones, caressing your cheek.

In awe about his concern, you nod. “I’m fine. It’s just… new. I’ve never done this, but I guess you already figured that out.” It takes you a moment to catch your breath, and then you give him the green light to continue.

The way Jisung has your hands firmly against the bed lacks the usual roughness; he isn’t gripping your wrists as if he’s about to cut off your blood circulation. This time, he has intertwined his fingers with yours as if he doesn’t ever want to let go of you. A firework of colors and stars is all you see as he thrusts into slow and deep and with all the passion he has to offer. His lips don’t leave space for a breather either; he kisses you with so much fervor that it swallows your heart up whole. At that instant, you realize that he’s claimed your heart and isn’t going to give that up any time soon. You don’t mind, because you know that you’ve committed the same crime.

It’s not long after until you feel the orgasm building up. Jisung brings one hand down to flick your clit, and just like that, you unravel beneath him. His own release follows suit, a muffled groan coming from his lips as he spills into the condom.

It’s quiet for a moment, no words spoken between you except for harsh breathing. Eventually, Jisung slides his softening dick out of you and disappears for a moment to clean up, returning with a damp towel for you to freshen up a little, as well as a glass of water.

“I think I won’t be able to walk tomorrow,” you say after you gulped down the drink in one go, voice devoid of emotion. A laugh leaves Jisung. The way you deliver it is so casual as if he didn’t just have his dick in you minutes before. “Also, isn’t this the part where we should cuddle?”

“So bossy, your royal majesty.” He even takes a bow before he climbs back on the bed, pulling the covers over your bodies, and scooting up to you. He says something else, but you don’t register what exactly. All you care about is being wrapped in his warm embrace. The stench of sweat isn’t prominent on him anymore. Instead, it’s a huge cloud of Axe overpowering your senses. You would complain, but you’re too blissed out to bother.

Jisung must’ve noticed at a certain point that you’ve wandered to daydream paradise. “You’ve been quiet for a while. A penny for your thoughts.”

“But you can read my mind.”

“I want you to say it out loud.” His answer comes like a shot while his hand is brushing through your hair. “That, and your thoughts are too jumbled and my head is going to malfunction if I try to decode everything running in your head right now.”

The corners of your lips quirk upwards. “I’m just thinking about how we did everything in the wrong order. It’s just now that we kissed, before that I only sucked you off or something. We’re so fucked up.”

“If you word it that way, we definitely didn’t follow the book.” Jisung laughs in agreement. The vibrations from his chest causes you to bubble up in warmth.

“I don’t mind, though. That’s not the point. I’m happy.” You don’t have to look up to know that his eyes lit up. “Jisung, I’m happy that you’re mine.”

The hold around your waist tightens, and you feel a soft kiss being pressed on top of your head. “And I’m happy that you’re mine.”

In another lifetime, another universe, you probably wouldn’t have to go through these struggles. Society would normalize having someone that completes you. You wouldn’t go through countless stages of denial, countless stages of frustration, and countless stages of doubt.

In another lifetime, another universe, you potentially could’ve been on even worse terms. Just like in those cyberpunk movies, maybe you two would be enemies, one fighting alongside the government, the other assisting the villain who tries to overthrow the system. Star-crossed lovers, that’s what you two would be dubbed as.

In another lifetime, another univer—

No need to fantasize about what could be. The only lifetime that matters is this lifetime, this universe, your reality. In reality, people like you live in hiding. In reality, society is doubtful towards people with soulmates. In reality, people like you are destined for a tragedy. It’s taken you a long time to wrap it around your head.

That’s alright though. You’re alright. You’ll always be alright. The universe might have not played in your favor in this lifetime, but you still found each other. Perhaps, the universe will be more forgiving towards you in your next lifetime. Or the one after. Who knows? Whatever happens, at least you know you have one person you’re bound to meet wherever you are, whenever you are. One person who won’t ever let go of you. One person you won’t ever let go of.

“Yeah, I’m yours.”

#i'm never writing a oneshot again this is too stressful for my heart #stray kids smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #jisung smut #stray kids dark hours #dom!jisung #sub!reader #jijiri.txt #smut.mine #i winged the ending so pls go easy on me dlskjflkjsa

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