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#and i will keep fucking saying this until u all shut up.
judyvan · 1 day
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No Hands - Chris Sturniolo Fanfic
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。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
Summary: After picking on Chris for being an extremely touchy person, the two of you make a bet. Will Chris be able to control himself long enough to win?
Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ chrisxfem!reader/ bf!chris/ unprotected p n v (use a fucking rubber)/ oral (fem receiving)/ touchy! chris x needy! reader/ competitive! chris/ use of "you"/couldn't tell ya how many words
A/N: Time for a Chris fanfic! I am still new to writing, so bear with me. The song loosely relates to the fic. Interactions are appreciated! Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋
。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆。。・:*:・゚☆。・:*:・゚★。・:*:・゚☆
"Keep your filthy fucking paws off of me," Nick says pushing his brother, Chris, away from him. Chris had wrapped his arm around Nick's shoulders as the two of them spoke.
Your boyfriend Chris is probably the most physically affectionate person that you know. He is always eager to touch those he cares about the most. Whenever it comes to you, Chris loses all self-control. He needs to be touching you in some way at all times; like he'll go insane without the feeling of your body against his in some way, shape, or form.
"You have got to be the touchiest motherfucker that I know, seriously," Nick continues, dusting the remanence of Chris' hands off of his shoulders.
"Shut up," Chris chuckles, pushing Nick backwards.
Nick looks up shocked. His eyes move back and forth from yours and Matt's, Nick and Chris' other brother. You and Matt begin to laugh uncontrollably.
"Please tell me you two fucking see this. I mean this is absurd! Even when I ask him not to touch me, he touches me. It's crazy!" Nick states completely dumbfounded.
Chris is laughing along with you and Matt. He begins to walk towards Matt, reaching out to grab his arm as he loses control of his body.
"Don't bring that shit over here," Matt says out of breath, wiping the tears from his eyes, failing to reel himself in.
Chris looks at you through squinted eyes. You simply open your arms as he walks towards you. He knew that you wouldn't turn down his touch. Chris stands in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck, laughing profusely into your skin.
"Can we please talk about this?!" Nick begins, still completely shocked. "I have never seen anything like this. Like he actually needs to be studied. He has always been "touchy feely", but ever since he got a girlfriend, it has multiplied by a gabillion." The room is still filled with the laughter of Chris and Matt, yours no longer producing noise.
"I mean seriously, I feel so bad for you. I can guarantee that you never get a fucking second to just breathe!" Nick exclaims.
You somehow manage to catch your breath and gain composure.
"It doesn't bother me. I've gotten used to it," you reply, rubbing your hand up and down Chris' back, attempting to calm him down.
Nick releases a scoff, letting you know that he doesn't believe you.
"Anyways, back to what I was saying," Nick begins shaking his head. He's looking at you, the only one stable enough to understand him. "Me and Matt are going to the store; do you want us to get you guys anything; besides some fucking giggle juice?"
"No, I think that's all we need," you reply, letting out a small laugh. Your whole body is now shaking at the intensity of Chris' reaction to Nick's last statement.
"Alright, we will be back in a few hours," Nick says, practically dragging Matt out of the door, him and Chris continuing to crack up.
The door shuts and Chris is eventually able to control himself. He pulls his head out of your neck and looks in your eyes, a huge grin spread across his face.
"Let's go to my room and find something to do until they get back," Chris says, his fingers running up and down your sides. You meet his lips with a short peck.
"I've got something in mind," you say smirking at him.
The two of you walk to Chris' room, holding hands of course. You have been trying to convince Chris to watch all of your favorite movies and now is the perfect time to start. Chris turns on the movie, "Five Feet Apart," and the two of you lay in his bed. As the film goes on, you can't help but think about what Nick was saying earlier. You are now very observant of how often Chris asks for a kiss or squeezes you tighter. When he gets up out of bed to grab a drink, you begin to laugh out loud at your own thoughts. Chris comes back into the room as you're laughing uncontrollably, trying to think of any moment he has spent any amount of time without physical contact.
"What the fuck is so funny?" Chris asks, taking a sip of his Pepsi as he stands in his doorway.
You swing your legs over the side of the bed to face your boyfriend.
"I was just thinking about what Nick was saying. I genuinely cannot think of a time that you went 5 minutes without touching me," you say.
Chris smirks and shakes his head. He begins to walk closer to you.
"Do you really think that I touch you a lot?" he asks, taking another drink.
"What do you mean think? You can't keep your hands off of me," you let out a small laugh.
"Yes, I can," Chris states in a cocky manner. "You touch me just as much as I touch you." He sits his drink down and gives you a smug look, stepping closer to you.
"Fine then. Let's make a deal. Until Nick and Matt get back, we have to keep our hands to ourselves. You can't touch me, and I won't touch you," you flick your brow up as you propose the idea to Chris.
"And why would I do that?" he says, laughing at your playfulness.
“To prove a point.”
Chris looks around the room for a second, thinking about what you said.
“How about we make this a little bit harder, since Nick and Matt aren't here,” he says, an arrogant look on his face. Chris bends down to whisper in your ear. “How about I do some things that make it harder for both of us to keep our hands off of each other.”
He then places an open-mouthed kiss to the spot right behind your ear. He tugs lightly on the bottom of your earlobe before pulling away. The combination of his warm breath, wet kiss, and teeth pulling on your skin, sends a feeling of arousal throughout your body. Chris looks at you with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly able to see what he's doing to you.
"And why would I that?" you say, mocking him. Chris' eyes trail up and down your body, not missing a single curve.
"If I win, I get to touch you anywhere I want, wherever I want, anytime I want for a week, and you don't get to say shit to me about it." Chris runs his tongue across his bottom lip as he finishes his sentence. Just the thought of having any part of you at his fingertips whenever he pleased made him grow hard.
"And if I win," you start, noticing the tent forming at the crotch of his pants, " I get to wear as little as I want, whenever I want, and you can look all you want, but you can't touch, for a week." You smile up at Chris, seeing him picture you in the smallest article of clothing in his head.
"I think you've got yourself a deal," Chris says, moving even closer to you.
You lift off of the bed slightly, sliding your hands underneath of your ass, pressing them into the bed. Chris places his hands on the bed, one on either side of your hips. Your lips connect almost immediately, the two of you aching to touch now that you can't. The kiss is deep and passionate, the both of you long for more. You remove your hands from underneath you, pulling off the shirt and pants you're wearing. Chris' lips leave yours and meet your collarbone without hesitation. His hungry kisses across your skin deepen your desire for him to touch you. Chris has seen you in a bra and underwear plenty of times. Removing your clothes doesn't seem to faze him much.
"This is too easy," you say, a smile spreading across your face. Your hands reach behind your back and unbuckle your bra. You drop it on the floor, scoot away from Chris, and lay down on the bed.
Chris stands up completely. His eyes roam over your entire body, lingering on your breasts. Lacking a good poker face, Chris' expression confirmed that you just made things 10 times harder for him, in multiple different ways. He tugs at his bottom lip as he soaks in the amount of skin you have exposed.
"That's not fair," he laughs, his eyes touching every part of your figure that his hands should be feeling.
Chris removes all of his clothes, only leaving his boxers. Your eyes trail over his body. Your eyes widen when you see the bulge in his underwear. A small chuckle escapes Chris' lips at your face. His eyes never leave yours as he removes his underwear seductively, his entire body now on display.
"Now we're even," he says. Chris moves across the room and climbs on top of you, careful to keep both of his hands on the bed.
The air chills your uncovered body. Chris' lips only momentarily heating the areas that they touch. It isn't enough. You need his hands on you. Messy kisses are placed all around your frame as he travels down you. After reaching the waist band of your underwear, Chris moves directly to your inner thighs, devouring them. Your hips begin to buck upwards, wanting his mouth on the place covered by soaked fabric.
"Take them off," Chris says placing a single gentle peck to the front of your underwear.
You shake your head while biting your lip. You earnestly wanted his hands on you and refused to help him out any longer.
"You do it," you said, your heart racing.
"I'm not losing this bet," he responds placing a gentle kiss to either side of your pelvic bone. Suddenly, his tongue slides under the left side wing of your underwear. He pinches the material between his teeth and slides one side of your underwear down to your thigh. He slowly moves to the right side of your body and performs the same motion. His intention is to draw this process out as long as he can, hoping you'll cave. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. Tongue, bite, pull, switch. As soon as one side reaches your ankle, you begin to shake them off yourself, flinging them into the floor.
"Someone's impatient," Chris smiles. He knows you won't last much longer.
His head dives between your legs, his tongue licking up the need that is dripping from you. You let out a whimper, gripping onto the bed sheets, miserably trying to keep your hands busy. Chris' tongue splits you in half as his nose applies pressure to your clit. He begins to speed up his motion, his tongue now forming small circles around your most sensitive area. Your legs begin to squeeze inward, Chris' head between them acting as a magnet. You can't help but squirm, the intense feeling of pleasure taking over your body. All of your movement is making it difficult for Chris. He is unable hold your legs down, forcing them to stay put.
"If you don't stop moving, I'm going to have to stop," he says, momentarily pulling his lips off of you.
Your moans get louder as Chris proceeds to eat you out. Your legs begin to shake as you attempt to keep from moving, not wanting him to quit. His tongue slips inside of your opening. Your back arches off of the bed. He begins to eat you as sloppily as he can, wanting more than just his tongue to be inside of you. Your toes start to curl. He begins to shake his head back and forth, his tongue flicking in all directions, only stopping to suck on your ball of nerves. You cling onto the sheets for dear life. You're starting to get close. Don't do it. Your hands lose their hold on the bedsheets and find themselves in Chris' hair as you practically levitate off of the bed.
"Oh fuck!" you scream, on the edge of release.
Chris pulls away from you. You did touch him after all. Suddenly his eyes meet yours from in between your legs. His thumb brushes over his lips, gathering all of your remnants before sucking them off of his skin.
"I win," he says with a cocky smirk.
In a swift motion, Chris grabs your leg and throws it over his shoulder, plunging himself inside of you, burying his dick as deep in your walls as possible. As he thrusts in and out of you frantically, his hands touch every part of your body, making up for lost time. The two of you moan loudly at the feeling of him touching you inside and out. It doesn't take long before your stomach clenches and you reach your orgasm, Chris' warm cum coating your insides at the same time. As the two of you ride out your high, your hands continue to feel every part of each other. Chris slumps on top of you, wrapping his arms around you, and burying his face in your chest. Your arms embrace him, pulling him closer. After a few moments of relishing the feeling of you both on top of one another, Chris leaves your body to grab a towel and pull on his clothes. As he cleans you up, he makes sure to touch you in every way he can. He throws the towel on the floor and grabs your clothes, insisting on dressing you as well. He starts with your underwear and pants, wanting to see you topless as long as possible. Before putting your bra back on, he takes your breasts in both of his hands and squeezes, kissing you tenderly.
"You better get used to that," he says, pulling away from your mouth and sliding your bra on. "I've got a whole 7 days to do that whenever I want."
For the next week, Chris took as much advantage of his prize as possible. When meeting up with his family he would hug you as long and hard as he could. When around his brothers at home, he would palm your ass with both hands, squeezing roughly and kissing you with passion. Even when hanging out in public settings with your friend group, you would find at least one of his hands wandering from your thigh and meeting the sweet spot in between your legs.
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jetstargf · 2 years
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okay goodnight. stop saying gerard is st joan reincarnated i’m abt to start maiming people.
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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...
#ugh. the fucking struggle of a thing i will not talk about. its just an off shoot of one of my many#obessive compulsive tendencies. it just makes me think of my dad. like hes also a fucking anxious person but hes like. i have the thoughts#but then i dont let them control me so its not an issue. and he knos i get caught up on the structure and identification of problems so#hes always like. its only an issue if its like ruining ur life. and hes right and i definitely meet the standards of both of those things#bc im fucking thinking abt these things constantly. its in my head literally all the time. every second of the day#and i mean i guess this specific thing isnt ruining my life but it certainly isnt helpful and in combo with everything else my quality of#life is not what it could b. idk it just feels all empty which is y i became a fucking workaholic#bc i just get so fucking bored stuck in these stupid patterns that at least i can make myseld useful as i drive myself nuts#it also doesnt help that im still trying to unfuck my leg and not being very successful bc theres this fucking voice in my head like#keep moving. u cant sit down. walk around. dont stop. dont stop. dont stop. i can feel the muscles getting irritated again#its unbearable bc it doesn't really even hurt. i just kno im fucking it up for myself and i have all this excess energy that i cant get rid#of bc i cant run. anyway its just irritating#i probably triggered myself by watching the bear all day lol. its so good but it reminds me of working in a shitty banquet hall when my#brain was on fire. and theyve got that toxic workahoism that i so desperately cling to. and in a weird way i can relate tho their fucked#up mom when everyones just trying to help but shes so fixated on this thing that's clearly causing her distress but shes just screaming at#them. like i mean i have insight into my issues and i try not to let them affect anyone but me but its so hard when its like. i have to do#this thing. i have to do it. i kno its bad. i kno its fucked up but shut the fuck up and let me do this. u dont fucking understand#but i wouldn't say that bc i kno its irrational. ugh. i also have to go to a lab dinner tomorrow. maybe#no time has been listed so idk. its for my leaving so im technically the focus. hate that for me. whatever. itll b fine#at least the place is within walking distance and its like less than 3 weeks until i leave#unrelated
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screampied · 5 months
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can u pleasee do jjk mens fav positions ? or have u already done that
‘ CARTWHEEL ON THE D!CK ☆ ! ’
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starring ꒱ geto, gojo, shiu, hiromi, choso, sukuna, toji ?!
@WARNINGS. fem! reader, praise, dirty talk, mentions of breeding, full nelson, missionary, (rev) + cowgirl, prone bone, size kinks, overstim, tummy bulge, face riding, impact play, shotgunning, squirting, till the bed breaks 18+
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TOJI ✰ DOGGYSTYLE
“down, girl.”
with the pitch of his tone— that was how easy it was for him to have you arched over, bent over his wooden desk. your pussy was still sopping from earlier, needing a moment to get over your most recent teeth-shattering orgasm. toji prefers missionary too but he mainly loves doggystyle just so he could peer a few peeks at your ass. so cute, he smears his swollen tip against your saturated entrance before groaning. sloshes of cries die out from your folds as he’s ogling at how you’re so eager to swallow him up. leisurely, his fat, throbbing tip makes its way into you and he yanks the back of your tank top. “tojiiii, ‘s not gonna fit again,” you gasp, a broad free hand of his grabs a good chunk of your ass before spanking it. you moan from the sting, the pulse it gifts between your legs couldn’t have been any more embarrassing. “so f-fuckin’ big.”
“say that everytime ‘n ya still take it like a good slut,” he growls, feeling a hot sensation burn near the tips of his ears. you’re so feverish inside, he bites his lip before shoving you further against the desk. one single thrust and your life flashes before your eyes. his cock metaphorically splits the inside of your cunt open, having your lips pry apart and you hear that sinister snicker of his from behind you. “ugh. gotta be careful with you though. with a pussy this wet, might fall in love, heh.”
toji’s speed was always simply relentless—your chest would continuously thwack against the furniture, bump after bump occurring. it’s so loud, his dick pivots and reaches so deep, it rummages through every single orifice and you repeat your whines for him again and again.
“f-fuuuck, toji,” you’d babble out, the same words spewing out your lips on a constant never-ending loop like a mantra. full balls of his occasionally tap against you. with your legs parted, you’re all sprawled open for him. toji knew the layout of your pussy— he had to. with a sharp piston of his hips, his thrusts start to become more vigorous. you could barely match let alone keep up with his pace.
with doggystyle, toji was simply animalistic,
one of his favorite things to do was to wrap his thick fingers around your throat, putting his face up close to yours. “awww, babygirl. ‘s too deep? want me to go slower for you, baby? i can go slow for the pretty girl.”
he’s teasing you—pitching his voice in that faux caring tone, he drags his tongue against your neck and you whine, whimpering out a, “f-faster, fuck me faster, ‘toj.”
“well excuse me. then shut up ‘n take this dick,” and his words punctuate through every part of his dialogue. rough emphasis on his sentences—you gasp, feeling the crown of his cock prof against your g-spot. a scratch through your brain surges and you were already stupid. “take it like it’s yours,” he gruffs, his voice lowering a bit. your gummy walls squeeze against him tightly and it makes him suck his teeth. so soft, fleshy mounds of your ass gets grabbed by the rough hands of toji. throughout each spank he gives you, it rings in your ears like wedding bells. it only encourages you to fuck back against him quicker, making haste. “yeah, fuck me back. take this dick like ya own it.”
you’re hitting back and forth against him, feeling the way toji steadily pries open your pussy with the fat, plump head of his dick. he grunts, pushing your head back down into the sheeny polished desk until it’s smushed against the plethora of scattered papers. “t- toji, right there, right there please.”
“i know the fuck where,” he snarls, feeling his thin nostrils flare— it makes him a bit vexed with how easily your cunt takes him. swallowing him up, he can’t help but stare at how well you’re taking his mean backshots from behind. a big hand of his is still yanking onto the very back fabrics of your tank top before he quite literally tears it into two. “oop. my bad,” he snickers, hearing a cute gasp come out of you. he’s still balls deep before you whine.
“toji, my shirt !”
“yeah, what about it.”
you frown, he’s still deep into churning your guts before you speak with each moan butchering the delivery of your voice. “what do you mean what about it, that was a gift!”
“girl, chillax. i’ll get ya a new one.”
he doesn’t.
GOJO ✰ PRONE BONE.
“shh, you don’t gotta talk when you’re bent over for me, angel,” he’d hush you, and he brings a thumb near your puckering hole to daub the remnants of his sticky, glutinous cum back into you, preventing it from spilling back out again.
you whine, feeling every deep thrust he presents you. he’d just gotten done with filling you up to the brim—yet he doesn’t stop, he’s hungry for more. a hand goes over your mouth, a lustrous sheet of your own slobber paints the palm of his hand in response and he hums. gojo favors prone bone because he likes the closeness of your body against his.
it’s like doggystyle but better,
with your sundress lazily pulled up, he’s got better access and your tummy continually caves in. gojo’s so lengthy, you were still surprised he’d even manage to fit. it was a tight fit but he managed, plugging up your sweetened aperture. warm breathy pants fan against your skin and you whine, his hefty base repeatedly trouncing against your cunt. he was so up close to you, his weight pressing into you so deep that you’re at a loss of words. “s—satoru,” you whimper, feeling his tip stimulate against your most tender spots. each breath you had became more shaky, you were already pumped full of ropy, viscid amounts of his cum from before. your words were a bit muffled but he could still make out your adorable mewls. “so f-full.”
“well yeah. wouldn’t want ya to be empty,” he fake frowns, giving your ass an abrupt spank.
you bite back a moan by sucking your teeth, feeling his shaft reach even deeper angles. he’s got your pussy opening over and over, you’re drooling by this point, being met with slow yet deep hits. it’s primal for a few seconds once he pulls out - only to pull back in, then out again. you start to babble, hating whenever he did that.
gojo was a menace, he wanted to make you beg for more—you feel a fervor wash over you before your maw dangles open. the moment he pulls his dick out, he stares in awe at the thick volumes of cum exuding out of your flooded entrance. “oh, look at thaaaaat,” he sings lowly, staring at the mess painted between your thighs. he’s got the smuggest grin, watching such satiny ropes dribble down your slit. “my my, she’s just so pretty! look at how full she gets too, fuckin’ sloppy.”
“f-finish fucking me, ‘toru,” you pant in heavy breaths, already missing the fullness his dick supplied.
still, you’re over here arched over like some slut. a few cold whiffs of air wafts against your skin and you moan. you hear him sneer out a, ‘awww,’ before he brings his leaky tip back toward your swollen folds. it was so messy, unkempt and shimmering with his seed. gojo grows quiet, smearing his fat reddened tip against your pussy to hear the wet sloshes it creates. “pleaseeee, finish f-fuckin’ me.”
“say pretty please,” he coos, purposely sinking just the fattened tip inside before wresting it back out. he does it over and over, imagining your cute little pout displayed on your face from frustration.
you whine out a sweet, “p-pretty please?”
“pretty please what?” he whispers, strumming a thumb against your throbbing clit. he was edging you, your whines—despite them falling onto deaf ears, you whine again. gojo simpers, trailing a hand down your sensitive spine. “c’monnn. i have no idea what you’re saying please for, angel. you could be saying ‘pretty please can i finish?’ or ‘pretty please can i—”
“pretty please finish f-fucking m-” you grumble, although it sounds more like a desperate moan. even your words backfired on you, he found it so cute how you tried to maintain a rough exterior with your voice but end up failing miserably. you wanted him to finish so bad that you start to swiftly grind against him with your ass still raised up. he loves hearing you like that, so whiny and needy for more—yet once you were about to whine out another needy plea, you hear a sudden snap.
instantaneously, your initial reaction was to flinch and as you peek up—you spot the the wooden headboard snapping in half, the box spring shortly following to collapse. gojo’s still buried balls deep and he doesn’t even realize. only then does he start drilling his fat cock into you at a much quicker pace and you gasp, bawling the sheets into your hand. “s-satoru, fuck fuuuck.”
“oh damn the bed broke,” he sighs, barely acknowledging your moans—you’re so close to your release, feeling the sharp stabbing twist of his hips and he makes you fuck right back into him again and again. with a hand sneaking its way to tug at your hair, he leans up close to your ear before purring low. “hm. that sucks,” and as his hefty cock jackhammers into your loose cunt for the nth time today, he cheeses. “but uh, you’ll buy me- i mean us a new one right? riiiight?”
GETO ✰ REVERSE COWGIRL.
he loves whenever you ride him in reverse—your ass just throwing back against him, it drives him crazy.
with strong, ripped arms wrapped around your waist, a breathy pant leaves his lips and he‘s panting, his mind's racing and racing as he’s awaiting for your finish to peacefully come.
geto groans, you’re taking in every inch of his fat cock, you grow dumb quickly and your brain starts to spiral within seconds. “f-fuck, more. throw that ass back against me harder, wanna feel you.”
geto’s smooth words couldn’t have been any more seductive against your ear. big hands of his drag towards your tummy, his touch sending you shivers constantly before you moan. you’re jerking back against him with your mouth pried open, dilated irises glancing at your pathetic reflection of the mirror that stood in front of you both. “s-suguuu,” you moan, leaning back until your back presses against his bare chest. his warmth makes the butterflies in your tummy whir around at such a speed,
everything about your body was just enticing.
the way you just grip around him drove him wild. steadily holding his dick hostage with your saturated, gummy walls — it drives geto to the first street of erotic insanity. he’s haphazardly buried balls deep, the jaggy smacks that go up and down all due to your sweet hips makes him go mad. lengthy musses of black strands gets caught in his face and he gnaws on his bottom lip. a mucilaginous white ring that coats around his full base sticks against your skin the more your movements rises its tempo.
he’s panting right with you, hot puffy breaths of air leaving each lips, he wraps a hand around your throat before tenderly skimming his thumb down your passageway. making you almost twist your head to stare at him, he whispers, “easy. don’t cum on me yet, gorgeous. can ya wait jus’ a little to be messy for me?”
you frown a bit, pretty spit-glossed lips pursing together into a sweet pout before you whine once he reaches a pivotal certain spot. sage-colored boxers of his was lazily pulled down near his perfectly sculpted pelvic bone—even that was unintentionally sexy, all for a good fuck.
“but— but i can’ttt,” you whimper, feeling the familiar juddering sensation mash all into you.
“wait for me,” he whispers, a hand rubbing against your tummy. you pause your stuttering hips, leaning back into his touch. geto attacks the entirety of your neck with sugared kisses. he’s so tender, you gasp once he feels against the outline of his bulge. “mhm. you feel me here, don’t you pretty? ‘m so deep in you, fuck.”
your pussy’s voluntarily tightening before easing up and you let off soft mewl. “suguru, don’t stop,” and your plea was so sweet. he holds your hips firmly in place before pecking a honeyed kiss near your nape. with how lewd the angle was, you made sure your knees were planted forward as you slouched all the way back. he stuffed your walls so full despite how you brought your eager hips to a saddened halt. his girth wears you thin, you moan once he then brings two hands to squeeze against your tits. so handsy, a finger of his swipes against your perked nipple and you whine. “wanna finish riding you, sugu please.”
“my love, you’re going to. don’t be such a baby,” and that’s only once he turns you around—you inhale a single breath, meeting his pretty face and he pulls you into a deep kiss. geto’s kisses always tasted to candied, so honeyed with nothing but love and affection.
“oh, but i love you,” he says between kisses, leaving your face with multiple targets. he watches your expression turn shy, even leaning in to kiss the soft bridge of your nose. “mwah,” he concludes in a weary breath, holding onto your hips again. you hover over his tip and he grunts, knowing you wanted to ride him again. “always know how to- make me fall more ‘n more in love with you. messy girl,” and a dimple pokes against his cheek once he lies back. “my good messy girl.”
SHIU ✰ COWGIRL.
“ah ah, let me finish my cigarette first,” shiu would hum in a soft low tone, watching you hover over his exposed tip.
he was shirtless—dark cerulean blue boxers pulled all the way down by you and a lit cig sticks out from the left part of his mouth. he shoots you a sly smile, watching the pout on your lips grow as you didn’t wanna wait for him. you needed him carnally, he flashes you a similar coy grin before wrapping an arm around you. “fine. you never listen. i spoil ya too bad, sweets.”
“shiu, want more,” you’d whisper, and he groans once he feels you align himself against your needy hole. you felt the head of his cock scrape against your entrance—a few spurts of pre-cum coat against your folds so slickly. a hitched breath gets caught in his throat before he leans back, manspread. “wanna smoke with you.”
“hm,” he hums in a more form of a question. he’s got quite the length to him. he grunts, feeling the squelches your cunt makes in retaliation. the entire scenery of it all was so crude, he’s amused. with that cute expression of yours, he wants to buy you anything in the world. shiu rubs a hand down your back, easing you to take him fully before you moan at the stretch. “you wanna smoke too, darlin’? ‘s that what y’er tellin’ me?”
“y-yes,” you whimper in a cute plea, rocking your hips once he’s all the way in. he fit perfectly—nice and snug like a key fits a lock.
shiu had such dangerous girth to him too, your mouth desperately opens as you feel every inch. you even feel a slight upward curve he had, something as small as that made you throb—even the vein that runs down the center of his dick, you felt the twitch inside of you. he raises a brow, hazy eyes focusing on your every move. your moves were always so slow it was simply hypnotic. leaning up close, you press a wet kiss near the corner of his mouth. “kiss me.”
“now you’re just gettin’ greedy, baby,” he purrs, inhaling a single puff of hot smoke again. you watch with dilated hearty eyed pupils, and he cups your chin. “very well, open that mouth f’me.”
glossy lips of yours part, he pulls you in for a sultry wet kiss but before he does that, he blows the smoke that was in his mouth right into yours. you whine, bottom lip quivering as it pours right in so easily. the taste was smoky, despite it being literal air, you could still taste it.
shiu’s got half-lidded eyes staring at you, a smirk curling on his lips before he finally gives you that kiss you direly craved. it was deep, you’re still slowly hurtling your hips before he brings two hands to fondle with your neglected breasts. you mewl into his mouth, tasting the lingering flavor of smoke and a dash of mint. his tongue curls against yours, flicking his cigarette away onto the ash tray before pulling you closer. he tastes so intoxicating, a hand squeezes your ass firmly before he groans—you being jittery against his hips has his head spinning.
“s-shit,” shiu phews, globules of sweat racing down the sides of his face. with an almost flustered, out of breath look, he speaks in a soft tone. “you .. you want more, don’t ya sweets? guess y’er not finished with me after all, huh?”
“lie back, shiu,” you breathe in short breaths, softly pressing the clammy palms of your hands onto his bare chest. bristles of curled chest hair prick against your skin before he leans further back, slyly smiling at your sudden dominance. he watches as you pick up his thin cig, sticking it between your own teeth as your hips roll against him in mirroring unison.
“yes ma’am,” he smiles, a hand gripping onto your ass before giving it another spank. “do whatever ya want to me, sweets. ‘m all yours.”
SUKUNA ✰ FULL NELSON.
with full nelson—more than anything, sukuna likes to leave his favorite girl feeling stretched.
so stretched to where you can feel him reach the very deep pits of your cunt. he leaves you with ropes of his cum oozing out of you, he can’t help it — especially with a size he has. a thick shaft with staggering inches, every time he pumps another load into you, you’re drooling for more.
“oh, you’re so weak today,” he huffs out in a single breath, watching your lifeless body just dangle against his lap.
your legs were held above your head and within minutes, pretty eyes of yours were on the verge of rolling way back toward depths of your skull to see only splotches of pure black. you’re a whiny mess, barely able to synchronize with his rigorous pace. his front forearms has your legs in place, another is strumming the calloused tips of his fingers against your jittery hips. he’s so deep that you can feel the bulge of his dick extend through your tummy. a hand of his grabs your chin, pulling down on your bottom lip. “my, i’ve got such a such a sloppy girl,” he points out, brushing a thumb against your lips that was glistening with sweet spit. “with an even sloppier pussy.” and a hand of his reaches down to spank against your folds. you whine, feeling your entire body heat up from something as simple from his notorious touch.
“su— sukunaaaa,” you’d whine, basically being treated like a rag doll. a perfect way to capture your physical essence. just being thrown around, he punctures everywhere inside of your goopy walls, making his cock get known between your heat. your moans only grow louder until he shoves two fingers into your mouth. fluttering lashes lower before you happily suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue against his digits and he cackles. “mphmmm.”
“good girl, suck on them. use that little mouth for somethin’ more important,” and with each bounce of your hips, your brows furrow in pleasure. a jumbled of nerves that rest inside your stomach continues to build up—you know that particular feeling approaching and it was pure bliss. a brief twinge of a sting resides near your entrance as he hits against a spot that leaves your eyes widening. he found your secluded g-spot. a hand of yours squeezes onto the curses’s thigh and he hums in amusement. “oh, i found that little spot didn’t i, pretty?” and his pace quickens ever so slightly, hefty dick slamming into you time and time again. “this— pathetic spot . . riiiiight fuckin’ here?”
his breath was hot, all up against the soft lobe of your ear. with his deep voice alone, you’d cream all over his cock without any sorts of shame. jocularly, sukuna seeps his fangs into your neck, a low guffaw following from the back of his throat. you sucked on his fingers until you gag as response. you then pout as he pulls them out, stringy webs of saliva following his two digits.
“i-i’m gonna cu—” and your words get interrupted by the goading prod of his cock thrashing against that same spot. your mouth grows ajar and a sweet raw moan exits from your lips. you’re so at disbelief that you end up gushing all on his lap yet he doesn’t even notice you squirted until you look down.
“hmph,” sukuna scoffs, one of his arms reaching down between your legs. he smears his stubby thumb against your entrance, feeling how doused it was with your slick arousal. taking you out of the flexing minacious position, he turns you to face him now. prodding a thumb between your now swollen folds, he delves a finger inside before pulling it out, only to pop the same finger into his mouth. you watch, tremulous breaths leaving your mouth and he smugly smiles, taking pride in your embarrassed state.
“how sweet,” and as he laps up the mess on his fingers on his own tongue, he grabs your chin again, pulling you into a kiss. you whine, returning the gesture almost immediately. you’re needy still, grinding against the king’s lap—his dick that was laid against him flat, so thick and even more full. he snickers between the kisses, holding you close and you taste yourself on his mouth. after a while, he departs away before grumbling. “off. you made a mess on me, woman,” and he crosses his arms, a pout on his lips. “don’t just sit there. clean it off with your tongue, i’ll wait.”
HIGURUMA ✰ FACE RIDING
“a-ah,” he lets off a soft sigh, bringing a few kisses towards your inner thighs. you bring up you want to ride his nose and after that moment, it easily becomes his favorite position. he’s gentle, making sure to attack near the very sweet crevices with his lips. with an amused, jocular raise of a brow, he runs a thumb down your sopping wet slit. “aw, you wanna ride it, dontcha? you’ve been starin’ at my nose all day, sugar.”
with a twitch of your lips, you shift your weight that’s barely hovering over his mouth. “yes,” and hiromi’s got nothing more than tender smile— he knew what you wanted, ride his face but most importantly, ride his nose. “i just— i don’t wanna suffocate you with my thighs though, ‘romi. want you to be able to breathe.”
he ambushes your folds with a multitude of kisses before a sly grin forms against his pink sheeny lips. “you won’t do such a thing,” he reassures you, and you whine once he creates a single licking stripe near your entrance. “there there, just lay it on me, sweetheart,” and his voice couldn’t have been any more soothing— it’s alluring, each syllable that drags out of his mouth has you pulsing continuously. dark irises stare into you before he blows softly against your cunt. “give it to me, sit on my face ‘n enjoy the ride. i got ya.”
higuruma’s all laid back comfortably against the bed—he’s ready to feast, the moment you finally sink your quavering weight down onto him, his tongue makes a quick greeting. you bite your lip, the cold texture residing on his tongue makes you squirm a bit. “f-fuuuck, hiromi,” you whine, peering your eyes down and his hooded lids were already growing low and heavy. two rough hands of his grasp tightly against your ass, occasionally brushing his thumbs against your warm skin. his movements were slow but precise—he makes sure to allow his tongue to rummage all throughout your pussy. just a single taste and he’s already craving for more.
you’re addictive,
as you’re still trying to flutter your hips over his mouth but he only pulls you further down. you moan, feeling the slickness of your cunt rub against his nose. it slides against the bumpy bridge of it and he groans. with rough pants, he breaks away every few seconds to give you a praise or two, “thaaaat’s it, ride it jus’ like that, sugar.”
he had to multitask from breathing through his mouth and nose—you had him going feral, his tongue knew no bounds. it swirls all through your entrance before he starts to suck against the pulsating nub of your clit. that particular spot does something to your brain. higuruma studies your moments—every jolt your thighs does he watches, how sensitive, how needy you were. all from a few licks, the feeling of his nose prodding against your cunt was a soft gnarled texture. it tickles a bit at first before you’re left with moaning repeatedly. “hngh, so good, ‘romi. don’t stop p-please.”
he shoots you a sneer, a thumb of his snaking towards your clit to play with it also. the nerves you felt in every part of your clit makes you stupid. perspiring hands crawl into his hair, getting a good grip of his strands being lightly tugging on it. “m-mphm,” he likes that. whenever you’d give his hair just the slightest pull, it drives him crazy. you resume to grind your hips into his mouth, slowly. your rhythm despite how it wasn’t as fast as he initially wanted has him hard. higuruma feels the strain in his black work slacks the more your sweet whimpers reverberate across the entire room. the walls were quite thinx yet he could care less. if anything, the only thing that mattered between was your preciously candied pussy. his favorite treat—a dish he’d continue to ask for seconds.
strands of his hair tangle within your fingers, the vigorous buckling of your hips barely have hi time to process. he’s so sloppy, the slight curve of his tongue explores all inside the entrance of your saturated entrance and a whine dies out your throat. “m-mh, more ‘romi. your tongue’s so good,” and your voice remains to shake—you were sensitive, not before long the entire middle part of his face was covered with a sheet of your arousal. so soaked—you couldn’t help but drench him a bit, his stubble becomes glistening in your heat and he moans. you taste sweet, with low eyes he makes eye contact with you for a moment and the butterflies that reside inside your tummy makes you pulse. he feels the pulse in his mouth, stimulating every part with the tip of his tongue. he lays it flat, allowing it to ferret everywhere before he reaches there.
that sweetened g-spot—the moment his tongue shows itself towards your most precious slick orifice, he leaves it a few sweet kisses. mwah after mwah, long black lashes close as he shows your spot the utmost signs of affection. after all, he wanted to make sure he tasted all of you.
CHOSO ✰ MISSIONARY.
“don’t hide, please,” choso whispers, rutting between you. two big hands of his strokes your cheek, making sure you return his beatific gaze. dark gentle pools of eyes intake your alluring beauty before he moans into your neck. “you’re so w-warm. i love you, love makin’ you feel good.”
“i love you too,” you breathe, moaning quite a bit yourself. your voice was sweet, laced with some kind of addictive sound that makes his ears twitch whenever you speak. choso loves missionary because of how intimate it is. skin to skin, body to body—he loves the hot warmth your own body provides him every time. he’s way more vocal than you, he can’t help but suck against your skin as he’s stuffing you full of guiltless inches. “fuck,” you’d wheeze, rubbing the back of your ankle down his back. you feel him shiver at that, his face turns flustered before he reaches to hold your hand. in bed, choso was always a needy baby. he desperately wanted your touch, without it he felt like he’d die. perhaps he was a bit of a drama queen whenever it came to affection, but he was your drama queen. “choso, don’t stop your moans, baby.”
he grows quiet once you notice. the main reason he went to suck against your tender neck was to stop his whimpering whines.
he was always so embarrassed about them—so insecure.
he was forever so sensitive, the way you clamp down on him makes his breath nearly get caught in his throat. “but-” and you shyly smile, squeezing his hand tighter as his hips quicken. he’s about to finish early—you were quite familiar with his timid body language. it always gave him away. you pull him in for a quick chaste kiss, crimson lips of his mashing against yours and he pouts. once you pull away, he wants more. choso leans for a kiss and you kiss back, kiss after kiss. he feels the tip of his cock reach all sorts of mew depths within your walls. he’s clouded, feeling a rushing wave of crazed nirvana over take him sweetly. “i’m too noisy.”
“i like when you’re noisy,” you reassure him, and you visibly watch him melt into your hands. he’s so cute—you’ve got his heart throbbing, you’re so tender and patient with him that he’s falling more and more in love. choso’s tempo slows down a bit and he feels a concise spasm in the undersides of his thighs. he moans at your tenderized compliment, burying his face into the crook of your neck.
he’s still holding onto your hand, stubby fingertips sliding against yours. his touch—a perfect way to describe it was that it was hot, parching. you made him feel hot in every way and he never wanted the feeling to stop. “you can be a little louder, ‘cho. ‘s just you ‘n me.”
“you s-sure?” he whines, mending your cunt with a new shape from his jagged thrusts. he was so big, you had to constantly gnaw on your lip to conceal your own indecent noises. with a low voice, he still sounds as sweet as a kitten—his darkened brows twitch, awaiting for your answer whilst he prepares to gift your pussy with another precious gift of cum.
you have a soft smile. “i’m sure, baby,” and with a smeck, you kiss the pale temple of his cheek. choso’s heart was racing miles a minute. the moment he ends up finishing, he doesn’t hide his moans.
this time, he ends up giving you a deep kiss while his orgasm mercilessly pulls out of him. it leaves him breathless, tumefy lips of his gets swollen from each contact your own lips makes with his. he was always weak for your kisses, he’d go crazy without one.
“good boy,” you whisper, feeling his seed trickle all inside of you. hot sticky ropes, your legs snake around his slim waist, forevermore pulling him in. “let’s stay like this forever.”
“we- we will,” he mewls out, a gasp of exhaustion snatching out of him, he’s just on top of you, resting his head against your chest — still inside of you, plugging you in fully. choso’s voice was a bit raspy, strands of his hair tickle against your skin before he kisses your breasts. “i’ll never leave you. we’ll be together f-forever, princess.”
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ervotica · 4 months
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Imagine this: youre in college, and after all those boring classes you come to your job at the donaldsons that includes riding him in the couch for as long as your legs allow you.
Tashi just coming home to thats sight and just making herself a afternoon drink unbotherd.
Dbsnhxhsb
omg shut up???🥲
warnings; all smut not much plot, older!art, so much potential for this series aghhh
a/n; art is an ear freak i literally feel it in my balls he loves it when u suck on them ears (he did it to tashi so he likes doing it to others too <3)
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the front door clicks and you wander through, in this teensy little white tennis dress that art told - no, commanded - you to wear when you came to work. the dress that shows the strain of your hard nipples through the fabric, swollen into points like diamonds, the one that slips upward and reveals the perky swells of your ass, the barely covered seam of your pussy when you trounce up to him, chirruping nonsense and smiling at him like he’s the only man in the world.
he murmurs something indiscernible - a pleased noise that reverberates at the back of his throat - and you lean over the back of the couch, sliding your manicured fingers across the expanse of his chest, chin tucked to his neck.
“hi.”
“hi, baby,” he murmurs in that low, rasping way that turns your insides molten.
fast forward no more than ten minutes, and you’re both bare, art’s thick fingers curled round your waist as he uses you as a fleshlight, lifting you up and down like a ragdoll and watching, entranced, as your cunt flares and parts for his thick cock; you sob and babble, slumped forward against his chest, nails digging into porcelain skin, teeth scraping along art’s cheekbone.
“i know, baby. i know,” he grunts, and you’ve never heard a sound like it. your cunt clenches, a soft silk wrap around his cock, and he’s turning his head to suck at the corner of your mouth, all spit and drool and tongue, so much of it that it drips from your chin, globs of it pooling between your tits.
the front door clicks and you’re both too lost in each other to care as tashi comes through the living room and enters the kitchen; art hooks one of his huge hands under the crease of your knee, lifting your leg until it’s draped over his forearm, bracing his feet against the leather of the couch as he jackrabbits up into you. you make a sound somewhere between a moan and a scream, and then tashi’s figure is crossing by you once more, drink in hand, lithe fingers nudging at your jaw to examine your expression. she bends at the waist, pinches your pert little nipple and rolls the bud between her fingertips, and smirks - fucking smirks - as your pussy clamps down on him like a vice; art lets out a stuttered breath, pulls you down onto him, and cums on the spot.
neither of you quit writhing against each other; he has at least another load in him, cock already chubbing back up encased in your spasming walls, no doubt an angry red and drooling precum. tashi settles herself on the armchair opposite you, already disinterestedly flicking through tv channels.
“want my mouth on you,” you whisper, face pressed just below his jaw, breathing hot air onto his neck.
“in a minute, baby,” he supplicates, grunting as he sheathes himself further into your tight warmth, balls heavy and swollen and slapping against your ass with every filthy rock of his hips.
tashi crosses one leg over the other, the picture of boredom, and says, “bite his ear. he loves that shit.”
you do just that, teeth rolling over his lobe as you suck the sensitive skin into your mouth.
he almost cums again, hands sliding up and over your back to still your movements so he doesn’t blow his load right there.
oh, tashi’s going to have fun with you. mould you into a perfect little toy for her husband, take some of his intense, fervent pining off of her, let you be the center of his world so she can focus on improving his game.
she might even keep you if you’re lucky.
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eatfishies · 27 days
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Intoxicated By Your Sweet Taste 🔞
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summary: Zayne thinks he hasn’t given you much attention due to his work.
or
Pussy drunk! Zayne can’t get enough of you.
word count: 2k tags: NSFW, zayne x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, oral fixation, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, overstimulation, coming multiple times, domestic fluff at the end, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, established relationship fish notes: as always, pls heed the tags ~ nevertheless, this fic was inspired by this twt here ! hope all of u enjoy <3 ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ | my twt !
It was past midnight when the door creaked open, revealing a tired looking Zayne. She was already in bed, snuggled up with the plushies her dear lover got for her. Zayne smiled at the sight before striding towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead.
That action caused her to stir, fluttering her eyes open to look at her partner. “You’re back.” She mumbled sleepily.
Zayne gently stroked her hair, lulling her back to sleep. “Go back to sleep, love.” He said as he continued to play with her hair.
“I’ll only sleep if you do too.” She replied, which earned her a small smile from Zayne.
Once he had finished showering, she couldn’t help but marvel at his chiseled chest, glistening with droplets of water, running down ever so slowly. She tore her eyes away, feeling a little bit flushed.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by her observant lover though as Zayne pointed out, “Weren’t you half awake earlier? It seems like you’ve got your attention elsewhere now.”
She didn’t even bother to attempt and deflate herself because it’s true. She is enjoying this view very much.
Just like that, she hoisted herself up and had her eyes solely on him. Desire and lust coursing through her veins. “Yeah… you’re not wrong. It’s because you’re so fucking hot, you know that?”
A chuckle rumbled out of Zayne, a little surprised by her bold declaration, considering how sleepy she was earlier. “Ah, so that’s what caught your attention?”
Before she could even reply, Zayne is already making his way to the bed. Her eyes widened slightly as he pushed her down gently, making her gaze up at him.
“Have I neglected my darling? Am I not pleasuring you enough?” He spoke as his face inched closer. She felt her breath hitched in her throat as the pit of her stomach coiled with pure lust.
The words she wanted to say were caught up, speechless by the sudden mood change. She bit her lip, “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”
Thick, strong fingers found its way to cup her face, “Then I shall take it upon myself to satisfy you until all your needs are met.” Without any hesitation, Zayne closed the distance between them and passionately kissed her.
She gasped as his other hand went to grab her hips, keeping her firmly in place as his tongue explored her mouth. Every ounce of sleepiness she had in her quickly vanished, instantly replaced by a primal hunger for him. She needs, no, she yearned to be one with him. To feel him in every way possible.
“Don’t… hold back.” He murmured in between her lips before he moved to trail kisses down on her neck, eliciting moans and whimpers. She closed her eyes shut, taking in the pleasure she’s receiving as he continued to suck and bite on her neck, leaving behind marks.
It was just a pure coincidence that she decided to wear a nightgown but she’s thankful nevertheless since it gave Zayne easy access to slip his hand up and caress her soft skin, feeling her up. She can feel her pussy growing needier and wetter with each touch he makes.
She sucked in a deep breath when his fingers began to rub against her slick, “Someone’s excited.” Zayne remarked as he suddenly pulled his fingers away and moved down to crouch in between her legs.
Instinctively, she spread wide open, staring down at him. “So wet for me… you really want this, hm?” She nodded eagerly, “Please… I need it.”
The once impassive doctor morphed into something else entirely. His expression held a plethora of emotions behind them as he felt his own hardness beneath his towel. “Very well. Scream for me princess.”
Any sort of thoughts she conjured up turned into nothing the moment Zayne licked her drooling pussy. His tongue expertly flicked her clit as she laid back down on the bed and writhed in intense pleasure.
“F- fuck! Zayne… hghh!” She moaned out as Zayne lapped at her needy cunt, savoring all of her wetness, wanting to taste all of her.
Her hands immediately tugged onto his hair, pulling him closer to her crotch as she screamed out his name repeatedly. It was too good that she could barely keep still, Zayne held onto her thighs to stop her from squirming.
The familiar pit in her stomach intensified, itching her closer to release. “Hahh…! Z- Zayne! I’m close, I’m so close!” She whined out, to which he kept tonguing her entrance vigorously until she arched her back and came all over his face.
Zayne pulled away slightly and licked his lips. There are traces of pussy juice on his mouth but he didn’t care. Not when his precious sweetheart tastes so divine. Before she could even beg him to put his hard shaft inside her, she gasped once she felt Zayne’s tongue on her folds again.
“W- wait! I… I just came!” She exclaimed, feeling like her legs were gonna give out from pleasure. But Zayne paid no mind as he resumed his ministrations on her sopping wet cunt. Even after orgasming, her pussy still throbbed for more.
At this point, she’s pretty sure she’s on cloud nine, especially when Zayne sucked on her nub, making her tremble. Green eyes observing her movements, watching as she moans and whimpers. Looking beautiful like this, Zayne wanted to keep this memory etched into his mind forever.
It was unbearable, she tried to push him away but he kept a strong grip on her legs, his tongue relentlessly flicking her eager pussy, swallowing all of her juices. He can feel himself getting intoxicated by her dripping cunt. There is nothing more rewarding than coming home everyday and getting to lap at her entrance like a starved man whilst also relishing her delightful sounds.
“C- coming!” Her hands scrambled for purchase as she came undone. Zayne lifted his head and spoke in a raspy voice, “Did you feel good, honey?”
There was no single coherent thought in her mind right now. She couldn’t even think properly, it’s all a muddled mess, too foggy with pleasure. Sensing her pliant demeanor, Zayne moved to her side, brushing off the strands of her hair from her face.
“You’re so good for me, dear.” Was the only thing she heard before Zayne trailed his fingers down to caress her inner thighs, igniting goosebumps all over. She weakly muttered, “What are you doing?” Instead of responding, Zayne leaned down and pecked her lips. “Are you a good girl for me?”
His finger easily slipped in her gaping pussy, thrusting it in and out, earning a mewl from her. She bit her lips, “T- too sensitive... Zayne…” She clutched onto his arm, looking at him with glassy eyes.
“I said, are you a good girl?” Zayne repeated his question but this time, he inserted another finger in, taking away all of her last resolve.
“Mhmm… ah! Yes! Yes!” That further drove Zayne to keep plunging his fingers deep inside her gummy walls.
It has been hours since Zayne has been pushing her far off into her limits. Sleep be damned as he is now lapping up at her loose, dripping cunt. She could only let out soft mewls and moans whenever he skillfully buried his head in between her thighs. No amount of protest could get him to stop. It’s like Zayne has been possessed by an insatiable lust demon or some sort, at least that’s what she thought.
Tears stained her cheeks as she stared at Zayne who was lazily eating her out. “Zayne… please…”
He gave her pussy one last lick before meeting her teary gaze, “Please what?”
“Please… fuck me…” She pleaded, her hands reaching out to pull him on top of her. “You’ve been torturing my pussy non-stop… I want to make you feel good too.”
“Ah, I see. So, my needy princess wants it that bad?” He spoke as he discarded his towel. It’s kind of amazing at how he managed to hold back his desire to mount her completely, especially since she looked ravishing like this. Blissed out and glowing from the amount of orgasm she lets out.
She nodded eagerly, “Give it to me, please? I’ve been so good.” To emphasize, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to close the gap between them and feel his body against hers.
“I guess someone deserves it, after all.” With ease, Zayne lined his cock on her entrance, sliding it in and immediately began to thrust.
While their love-making session was always tender, albeit sometimes a bit passionate, it was never really like this. Intense and unrelenting with vigor as Zayne continued to pound into her deep. Her cunt spasming and clenching tightly around his cock. “Fuck… you feel so wonderful around me, sweetheart.”
Even if she wanted to say something, each thrust made her eyes roll back. Her mind is running into an overdrive as Zayne picks up his pace, unfaltering and burning with the need to come inside her.
Noticing Zayne’s furrowed brows and his eyes closed shut, “Come for me. Come inside me, baby. Want you to breed me.” She spoke, her voice laced with urgency and desperation.
At last, Zayne thrusted inside her hard before stilling, heaving and burying his face in her neck. She smiled at him dazedly as she cards her fingers through his hair. When Zayne pulled out, he watched in fascination at how her cunt drooled with cum. The sight alone made him want to ravage her right then and there, but he knew, they both had to sleep.
So, instead, Zayne helped clean her up and cuddled her as they both drifted off to slumber.
Something was wet… and there were sounds of shuffling. When she woke up, her eyes widened as she saw Zayne languidly circling her clit with his tongue. “H- huh?” She uttered out, confused and yet, Zayne only mumbled out, “Lay back. Let me please you once more before I leave for work.”
How could she refuse when her lover had asked so sweetly? She did as he instructed and laid back down on the soft bed, letting him spread her wide open. At this point, she had lost track of how many times she came, especially from last night.
This time, Zayne made sure to take his time, flicking her folds ever so slowly. One part of her felt like he was torturing her but another part of her couldn’t help but preened at how good it feels when he’s savoring her like this.
The morning sun casted a soft glow around the room, making this even more enjoyable as she focused on Zayne, tasting every drop her cunt oozed, not letting any of it go to waste. The slurping sound reverberated across the walls as she flushed.
Despite coming so many times, the familiar pit in her stomach still lingered, coiling and intensifying as she neared her climax. “Hghh… Zayne… baby, I’m so close.” She meekly mewled out, her legs shaking. Zayne sucked on her nub and sneakily thrusted a finger into her cunt, scissoring her whilst he ate her out.
Just like that, it was enough to drive her to the edge. She came, hard on his face. Her vision blurs and she shuts her eyes closed, letting the euphoria wash over her.
She faintly heard Zayne uttering a soft, “I love you” to her before getting up and tucking her in bed.
The second time she woke up, she found that Zayne had already left for work. She groggily got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. There, she found a plate of breakfast ready made for her and a bouquet of flowers.
Her body was sore all over but this gesture made it all worth it. Smiling, she walked up to the table and picked up the bouquet, smelling the flowers before sitting down and stuffing the food, the tiredness fading away and was replaced by hunger.
Luckily for her, she had a day off today and was able to cozy up at home until Zayne comes back. He gave her a fond smile as he placed the bag on the coffee table, “I got you macarons from the cafe. What do you feel like having for dinner? Let me cook for you.”
Safe to say, she is indeed a lucky girl to be able to love and be with Zayne.
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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months
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chewtoy | s. gojo
✮ tags ; dead dove: do not eat, noncon, humiliation, abuse of power / power imbalance, master / servant relationship, titles like master satoru, he's being Really Fucking Weird (sniffs u a bunch...rip), oral(f!receiving) 18+
✮ wc ; 2k (????)
✮ a/n ; horrible horrible man. can he leave me alone. extension of this
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"The young Master is calling for you."
You try not to flinch. Aiko gives you a warm, summery smile and a soft nudge to your side. You can only assume this means you've succeeded and she doesn't sense your disgust.
"He's so fond of you," She ends her sentence with a wispy sigh. "Must be nice to have a rich, powerful man fawn over you a bit, right?"
You remain indifferent. She smiles again. You think she is infinitely more beautiful than you. Soft, bouncy hair and smooth skin. Her naive nature makes her shine brighter than one thousand suns. It'd be nice if the young Master showed interest in someone like her.
You put the dream to rest quickly.
"You shouldn't keep him waiting," She hums. It's so innocent. "Go on, don't let me keep you."
You don't tell her you wish she would keep you. She is also right that you should not keep him waiting. If he's summoned you to his chambers deliberately, that means he is already feeling impatient. Master Satoru never seeks you out unless he is in some kind of mood.
He's had this habit since childhood. You've never made him aware of it, and you don't plan too. One of the few things you help you know what to expect from him.
You nod her along, tell her to finish up work in the living quarters to which she agrees merrily. Her spirits are lifted by the prospect of the young Master showing you fondness. Some part of you wishes you could share in her joy.
A pit of dread makes your steps heavy, but your footfall is light and beautiful. You are poised and cool as you walk along the dark, dreary hallways that lead to the Master's office.
A door swallowed in shadow, a single light shining on the golden plaque with the young Master's full name. You knock twice, announcing yourself.
"You're here," He says. You try not to flinch. You're certain you do not succeed. You are thankful he cannot see you - or you hope he can't. "Come in,"
You open the door and step inside to his office - shutting the door behind you. Muscle memory guides you to your curtsy. You bow politely.
"Yes, Master?"
"So stuffy," His voice makes your chest feel tight with discomfort. Frustration ebbs underneath it, cuts like a jagged edged knife. "At least call me, Satoru. Our relationship is much better than that, I thought."
"I could never be so informal to the young Master," You say, and then concede. "But I will call you Master Satoru, if you wish."
"How obstinate," He drawls. You do not life your head to see the face he makes. You already know what it looks like. It's burned into your mind. "But I suppose I'll make do. Lift your head."
You lift your head, but do not look at his face.
"Come closer,"
You step towards him, your lungs pushing air out of you manually. Remembering to breathe evenly is a herculean task. He beckons you closer until you're within distance of his touch.
He glances at you. "Look at me."
You try not to hesitate and force your eyes forward. His eyes undress you. Pointed gaze falls along your features, outlines your every inch, and analyzes your face. You remain even. He hums.
His frivolity is missing. This is suddenly more frightening. His mood is worse than you thought.
"Lift your skirt,"
Your muscles tense as you try not to shake. You succeed. He lets out a soft breath before he drops down onto his knees. You do not let yourself make any sort of expression, averting your gaze. He stares long and hard at your clothed pussy.
You tremble. He assess you silently, eyes flitting up.
"Sit in my chair with your skirt over your waist. So I can see you properly and all."
You listen to his instructions mindlessly. The velvet of his chair and warmth of his remaining body heat touch your bare ass and thighs. Satoru turns to you, still on knees. His hand wraps around your ankles and slips your shoes off of you.
You close your eyes. Sudden intimacy makes you slink back.
"Look at me."
It is is a command. You let your gaze fall on him again and watch on in excruciating nausea. Your stomach twists violently at the fragility of it all. Slender fingers hook into your knee socks and pull them down along your calve until they're off. His gaze catches yours. He does not smile at you. His hand comes around your ankle again and lifts your leg closer to his face. His nose presses against the bend of your foot.
He inhales. You try not to react but you can feel your eyes go wide. Feel your muscles clench, your heart sinking. Iron fills your mouth.
He lets his nose nudge up against the top of your calf.
"Young Master,"
He stares at you. Irritation flits through his gaze. There's no getting out of this, no mercy. You slink back again. He does smile that time.
Your body prickles with unwanted heat at the sensation. He licks along your legs, biting the supple skin - huffing the scent of your sweat every time he goes along. His teeth sink perversely into your flesh, sucking until there's throbbing, marks against your calves. The color of an orchid, purple and red. Fear strikes in you like a match. His grip on your ankles moves to the back of your calves and squeezes tight. He repeats the process on both calves intently.
There's claim to this. You know this part of him. He is claiming you with vicious confidence. Something with deeper magnitude then lust. For you, he is desire and ownership and want incarnat. A testament of his own beliefs. You willfully do no make noise aside from a gasp or breath.
You don't know how long it takes until he's satisfied with the state both legs.
He moves up. Bites the soft flesh of your thigh. You nearly spit out another useless plea. Shamelessness makes up his every move. His tongue slides over every single inch of your bare skin until his noses brushes along your cunt.
He doesn't lick you there. Not right away. Again he sniffs, breathes you in deep and uncomfortable. It's violating in all senses of the word, his grip tightening on your thighs as he huffs your scent. You haven't bathed. You've practically been running around since morning, but he doesn't let up and breathes you in anyway.
You squirm at that point. Your face contorts so slightly and he's watching you for it. His face finally cracks a smile and abject dread makes your spine lock up.
"Mm," He emphasizes the sound. It's so loud in such a quiet room. "That's it."
You don't have the strength to say anything.
It's frighteningly abrupt and rough, the feeling of his mouth along your pussy. He sucks at your clit from outside the fabric and you gasp - suddenly helpless. It's not the first time, of course not. But it's never this... random. Never this rough.
Your back arches at the sudden motion, face breaking - and Satoru grips you tighter and forces you back into the chair. Forces his tongue against your clit and sucks hard through the cotton material. Your body betrays you in its reaction - nipples pebbling underneath your clothes. Nearly screaming from the sensitivity. Your lower body is all ache - hickeys and bruises and bite marks making you throb perpetually. Too much, too much, too much.
Shame floods your system as the first spike of arousal forces itself from you - your cunt floods, gushing with a sudden spike of want from rough treatment. The sound of him sucking you so hard and drenching it with his saliva echoes across the room. You're sure it's traveling into the hall.
"Master Satoru," Your voice is even but it cracks on his name. Tears form at the corners of your eyes - fear and shame mixing into desperation. "Satoru,"
He hums into your pussy and you shake. "What is it? What wish would you like your master to fulfill for you.
"Please," Your voice is hoarse. Bone-deep exhaustion is out done by adrenaline. "Not through the fabric, please. It's dirty."
He sucks again and you keen - nails digging into your palms as you throw your head back.
"Your Masters spit soaking your panties is dirty? How rude." He teases. The whimper leaves your mouth without permission. You wish this would end soon but even amidst your fog you know that is not more than a pipe dream.
He takes them off. Rolls them down your thighs all wet and drops them. You let out a sigh of relief before his nose bridges touches your clit again. Swallowing the sound, you look away.
"It's soaked," He says conversationally, "Your needy little cunt is making a mess of your Master's chair. Tsk, tsk - so shameful."
"I'm sorry," You croak, unsure of what else to say. "I'll clean it."
He laughs, seemingly alleviated from his prior upset at the state of your humiliation.
"I'm sure you'll do an excellent job," He rests his hand over the mound of your sex - using pointer and thumb to spread your lips apart and get view of your swollen little clit. He breathes on it. "But you're still begging me for my attention down here. Filthy pussy for such a meticulous maid. Do you know how wet you are? Did you miss me so much?"
You don't answer him. He goes on.
"I thought of you all week," His voice is soft. Tinged with affection, or something like it. "Ahh, dealing with higher ups is such a pain."
You stare at him. He looks back at you with a smile. You flinch. You flinch certainly. "But I can always take it out on you, can't I? This perfect, filthy, needy cunt. It'll only every belong to me and I get to use it to my hearts content. I thought of that suddenly then called you."
It's not just your cunt he's interested in. That'd be relieving if that were the case. If he only ever used you to vent his sexual frustrations, treat you like a personal cocksleeve. You think it might be better that way.
He's too fond of you for that.
The young Master treats you like a chew toy instead. He bites, licks, slobbers, and misuses you. He might hump you to chase his high from time to time, might throw you around for rough sex should the mood suit him. But he's not a clueless oaf, some classless barbarian who only feels pleasure from his cock.
His violation is something else. It's deeper in scent, richer in taste. It is born from his greatness.
He's smart enough to know exploitation and that's what gets him off most. He exploits you. Exploits your reactive body, exploits your stoicism, exploits your dedication to your duty. You're his chew toy because you are designed to be unbreakable. You are indestructible.
But you have the perfect amount of give. You flinch, sigh, and whimper enough to make your Master thrilled. You squeak and moan like you're heat addled when he plays with you enough.
To Satoru, you're the most perfect thing to ever grace his life. His favorite toy that he's bitten at since he was just a boy and grew so fond of.
No matter how much you end up in tatters, Satoru can't help but love you with all of his heart.
You get exhausted being thrown around. But you can't go anywhere, either. He's so watchful of you. He might go crazy and bite if you were to disappear.
"Cum for me," He says, sucking on your clit much more softly. He's gentle but exact. Knows the ins and outs of your body enough to send you racing towards the edge with an unimaginable speed. You gasp and shudder, holding onto his chair for your life as an orgasm shoots through like lightning through a telephone wire.
You cum. You cum hard, bruised and mind-broken and nauseous and you cum so hard something spurts out of you and makes the chair wet. The young Master is nonplussed of course, and laps it up like a dog drinking water.
"Ahh, much better." He's pleased as he stands up and then bends down to your height. His hand cradles the back of your neck with a pleasant sigh as he forces a cum-soaked kiss onto your mouth. "Just as I thought, you were just what I needed."
Utterly defeated, you pull away with a gasp. "...I'm happy to serve you, Master Satoru."
"Such a nice sentence from your mouth, true or not." He gives you one more kiss, to the crown of your head. Too tender, too raw. "Prepare yourself to service me a bit more, then."
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paarksunghoon · 7 days
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Riding sub hoon w/ glasses on abd u have to constantly fix it cause it keeps falling down his faceee pleaseee
that’s…so hot. fuck
***
Sunghoon isn’t a loner by any means but he’s not as popular as you. He prefers to keep his head down and focus on his studies whereas you’re the life of the party. You’re so cool. Other people must think so too. You keep to yourself like he does but it seems like you get perks out of it. You don’t care what other people think of you and you’re not concerned with who’s talking about you and who isn’t.
You’re friendly when people get to know you. That aloof persona is reserved for everyone who doesn’t really know you. But you come off as nonchalant because you like who you are and don’t give too much away. Sunghoon likes that about you and he thinks you two are similar for that.
He’s had a crush on you for a few months now, ever since you started coming to the coffee shop he works at. You sit in your table late at night to study until your laptop dies or until he has to tell you to leave so he can lock up. Sunghoon used to watch you from afar until you started talking to him like you were friends.
Now, he finds himself with you on his lap in the back of his car, his cock so stiff that he feels like he could cum all night.
“You look so pretty beneath me,” you say, pushing your body off of him just to plant yourself back down on his lap. Sunghoon feels the car shake as he looks up at you. Your tits are pressed right against his face but your shirt is covering your perky nipples. “So sexy when you look at me like that.”
It’s true. Sunghoon looks godly when he moans. His eyes shut from time to time and his balls tighten every time you push yourself back down onto him. It’s so wet between the two of you that he feels it trickle down his thighs and runs down his shaft.
“You’re so cute,” you coo when you see Sunghoon’s glasses have fallen down. You lean forward and tenderly kiss him on the lips despite the pace you’re riding him. He feels you lift the glasses to fix them. “All better?”
“So much better.” Sunghoon says it like you’ve taken his breath away. He watches how you smile at him and feels the way your fingertips play with the hair behind his neck.
“I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, you know.”
Sunghoon chokes. “R-Really?”
“Mhm. You’re so hot, Hoonie. I always knew your cock was big too.” He bucks his hips into yours with a great force. You yelp and lurch forward, which causes your tits to push against his frames until they nearly fall off his face. “Hoon!”
You do it for him again. Sunghoon loves the way your fingers graze his skin and how gentle you are when you touch him. Sunghoon lets himself live in fantasy and smiles at you like a lovesick puppy.
“Be careful,” you whisper. He feels you adjust your body and kiss his cheek. “Don’t break your glasses.”
“I’ll try not to.”
“You looks so sexy in these.” You tap on the handle. “I can’t wait to watch you cum with them on.”
He feels a swell of validation spread throughout his body and clenches his ass to push right up into you. You capture his lips and he swears you’re kissing him like you’re asking him to become your boyfriend.
Sunghoon’s a goner when you clench around him and squeeze his balls from behind. He moans and spurts of cum coats your inner walls as he shuts his eyes and opens his mouth. He looks angelic when he orgasms, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin and his warm breaths sounding melodic like a lullaby. You push your tongue against Sunghoon’s in his open mouth and he lets you toy with him until spit connects the two of you.
You fix his glasses for him again. Sunghoon opens his eyes and looks at you like he wants to say something but can’t. You kiss him anyway and push his hair back, pulling away to watch him. Sunghoon keeps his eyes shut and enjoys the feeling of your fingertips along his scalp.
You don’t think you can let him go. You ask him back to your place and Sunghoon doesn’t think twice.
***
ps had this image in mind:
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comments and reblogs are appreciated! x
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rafecameronssl4t · 2 months
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Im so obsessed with all your canon fics AND ur rafe x thorton!reader 😭 are u able to do one based off s2 ep 8 where topper is tryna look for his sister at tannyhill even though rafe and reader had a huge argument and weren’t on speaking terms and rafe gets all protective when topper says “I’ll just track her”
Tracked || Rafe Cameron x Thorton!reader
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idk where this gif is from soz :(
A/n: thank uuuuuuu 💗 hope u like this :)
Warnings: slut-shaming, swearing, if there’s anything else lmk
Word count: 745
MASTERLIST (rafe x thornton!reader au masterlist)
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divider by @h-aewo
"It's seven feet high, plated in gold, and encrusted with diamonds. What do you think?" The guy's tone dripped with condescension. Rafe's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, "I was just asking."
The low rumble of an approaching vehicle drew their attention. The sound grew louder until a high-rise car came into view, gliding to a stop nearby. The door opened with a careful click, and out stepped Topper.
"Shit," Rafe muttered under his breath. He straightened up, eyes narrowing further as Topper approached. "Hey, Rafe," Topper greeted, his voice attempting to be calm but betraying a hint of nervousness. "I've got no beef, man. I'm just looking for Y/n."
At the mention of your name, Rafe's expression darkened, a deep frown setting on his lips. His jaw clenched as he took a step forward, practically bristling with irritation. "Y/n's not here," he snapped, each word dripping with disdain. "Go find her somewhere else."
He waved a dismissive hand, already turning his back on Topper, clearly uninterested in continuing the conversation. Topper furrowed his eyebrows, confusion and frustration evident on his face. "What do you mean, Y/n's not here? She's nowhere else on this goddamn island." Rafe looked at him in disbelief. "How would I know where your sister is, huh?"
Topper opened his mouth to retort but then shut it, the words dying on his lips. Rafe's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and hurt. "And one thing you should know, Top," Rafe's voice was calm, though his expression remained hard, "I got nothing against you, even though you totally punked me the other night."
Topper scoffed, his voice dripping with disdain. "Really? Were you too coked-out to remember slut-shaming my sister?" His hands flew to his head in a mocking gesture, mimicking a crazy person.
Rafe's expression darkened instantly at Topper's words. He lunged forward aggressively, forcing Topper to retreat a step. "Slut-shaming? I wasn't slut-shaming her," Rafe spat back, his voice growing louder and more defensive with each word. "I was provoked, all right?" His frustration was palpable as he took a few more menacing steps forward, his eyes blazing with anger.
Topper nervously wetted his lips, sensing the volatile energy in the air. "All right, man," he muttered, attempting to defuse the escalating tension as he backed toward his car.
Rafe's anger flared, his eyes burning with intensity. "You think I want her hanging around those fucking pogues? Huh?" he shouted, his voice dripping with rage and disdain. Topper stopped in his tracks, turning back to face him.
"Is that what you really think?" Rafe continued, his voice rising with every word. "Your sister is on a pedestal, and she keeps stooping low to hang out with those pogues!" His rant echoed in the tense silence, each word laced with venom. Topper stayed silent, his expression unreadable.
"Is that where she is? Is she with those pogues?" Topper finally questioned, his annoyance simmering just below the surface, the idea gnawing at him. "Where the hell else would she be? Huh?" Rafe walked toward Topper, his tone mocking. "Unless she found some other sucker. Yeah?" He spat, his anger evident. Topper shook his head, a realization dawning on him.
"I can just track her," Topper suddenly realized, pulling out his phone as he walked back to his car. "I completely forgot. I can track her on my phone."
Rafe's eyebrows furrowed as he watched Topper. "What? Are you spying on her?" he demanded, his voice rising with suspicion, his eyes narrowing.
"No, I'm not spying on her!" Topper snapped, exhaling sharply in frustration. "She's my sister, and I care about her. I just want to make sure she's okay after that stunt you pulled on her the other day."
Rafe slowly nodded, his lips pursed in thought. As Topper reached for his car door, his fingers brushing the handle, Rafe lunged forward and yanked the phone out of his hand.
"Jeez, give me my phone back," Topper argued, his voice tinged with irritation and a hint of desperation. He reached out, trying to grab the phone, but Rafe held it just out of his reach, a smirk playing on his lips.
"What? Calm down, all right? Just wanna make amends with her." Rafe chuckled, his tone mocking. He glanced at the screen, his expression unreadable, "What the hell is she doing on the cut?" He scoffed, rolling his tongue against his cheek before tossing the phone back at Topper and turning away.
"Rafe!" Topper called out, frustration and desperation mingling in his voice. Rafe didn't stop. "Go home, Top," he called back, his voice fading as he walked away.
~
"I can't believe he did that!" You cried out, tears streaming down your cheeks as Pope patted your back gently, and JJ handed you another tissue. "In front of all those people, too," you sniffled, feeling a mix of hurt and disbelief.
"What he did was pretty fucked up, but it showed his true colors, right?" Pope said, his tone hopeful, trying to offer some perspective as you shook your head. The two boys exchanged a look of concern. "No, no, that wasn't him that night," you said quietly, your fingers fidgeting with your ring. "You're right, it was the devil—" JJ began, but you cut him off sharply.
"No, JJ. He was high out of his mind. I-I thought he only did it occasionally, but..." Your voice faltered, overwhelmed with disappointment and confusion. This time, Pope interjected gently. "Y/n, he's always been a coke addict. You just never noticed," Pope said softly, his words carrying the weight of a truth that was hard to accept.
“But still—” You’re abruptly cut off by JJ, who shushes you sharply. “That’s rude—” you start again, only to be silenced once more as JJ places a firm finger on your lips. You stare at him, puzzled. “Did you guys hear that?” he whispers, his eyes darting around.
“I think someone’s here.” Pope and JJ exchange a serious glance and immediately get to their feet. “Stay here,” JJ instructs firmly. You sniffle and nod, whispering, “‘kay”
“Where the fuck is she?” Rafe’s voice echoes, the door slamming shut behind him. “She doesn’t want to see you, man,” JJ interjects firmly as Rafe scoffs incredulously.“Yeah, she—she tell you that, huh?” Rafe’s disbelief is palpable as he glares at the two friends.
“Y/n! Come out! I know you’re in there!” Rafe’s voice grows louder and more desperate from outside. Inside, you sit up at the sound of his plea. “I told you, she doesn’t—” JJ starts, but Rafe cuts him off sharply.
“Shut the fuck up, pogue,” Rafe groaned in frustration, his patience wearing thin as he glanced between JJ and Pope. “Listen, I just need to talk to her, okay? I’m not gonna do anything, she’s my fucking girlfriend,” he insisted, his voice carrying a mix of exasperation and longing, pleading for understanding.
JJ and Pope exchange a glance, their expressions hesitant and protective. “Not a chance—” JJ starts to say, but you cut in decisively, causing all three of them to turn and look at you. “It’s fine,” you call out, your voice steady yet laced with emotion. You meet Rafe’s softened gaze, swallowing hard before continuing. “You want to talk? I’m right here, Rafe. Talk.”
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urhoneycombwitch · 4 months
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foreword: have u ever had a buddy so good you jack off with him <3 roommate!Eddie x reader fic for ya. link to roommate!Eddie mlist here
cw: drug mention, R wears a bra, has breasts (implied to be large enough to “spill”) + V, no pronouns used only petnames, nipple play, R is queer (talks about Molly Ringwald in a sexual nature <3), praise kink, mutual masturbation, but as friends, we’re all normal here okay, we Do Not talk about our hidden feelings in this one soz
wc: 2.3k
___
An unfortunate shift of the pillows supporting your body pulls you from the depths of sleep, consciousness surfacing, breaching with a soft huffy groan. 
Waking up on a normal day is hard enough. Waking from a good dream, one where someone’s head was between your legs and everything was swelling lush with heat? Now that’s torture. 
You burrow the cold side of your face under the covers, eyes still screwed shut in defiance of being awoken before the dream could pay off. There’s a heartbeat pounding near the apex of your thighs; with one leg stretched out and the other draped around the curve of your body pillow, your hips roll forward automatically, seeking friction.
The soaked front of your underwear drags against the pillow’s seam, catching your clit on the next glide of your hips. Another soft moan, breath fanning from your parted lips. If you can stay in this grey area of sleep and waking, maybe the horniness will swallow your mind back to the dream…
When someone’s hand brushes your bare shoulder, your movements freeze. Goosebumps prickling in the palm-owner’s wake, you blink against the morning light pouring in through your bedroom window and try to orient yourself.
Your head is nestled in the curve of someone’s neck, left arm tucked secure around their chest. Leg hitched over their waist, cotton boxers band digging at the plush of your thigh- something else solid and warm trapped against their stomach.
A snuffle from your human body pillow, and the waking world hits you sideways, all at once- Eddie. You’d fallen asleep with Eddie last night, after helping him play-test a new hybrid strain and dancing to records all evening, until you both collapsed in a heap of giggles. In your bed. 
Which means that you’ve been humping Eddie’s leg in your sleep. And the thick length trapped under your thigh belongs to him, too. 
Before you can even fully process or think up an escape plan holding the least amount of embarrassment for you both, Eddie’s stretching the arm that isn’t cupping your shoulder up and out with a long yawn. 
His hips shift, pressing himself into your leg unintentionally, and you can feel the moan that rumbles through his body- at your ear, vibrating under your hand on his bare chest. Eddie mumbles something incoherent and sleep-addled, pulling you in closer, nosing at the crown of your head.
“Uh-” your voice comes out half-squeak, half-croak, not fully pushing off Eddie but keeping your frame tight enough to roll away at a moment’s notice. “H-hey.”
Eddie’s palm smooths down the plane of your upper back, stopping at the wide band of your bra. He makes another noise, this time a bit less sleepy- and then he, too, freezes, all those points of contact along the length of your own body stiffening, muscles tensed with realization. 
“Oh, fuck. Shit.”
Eddie’s voice is like rocks on pavement, three shades of gravelly, really not helping your whole ‘wet as a river’ situation, one that he can probably feel leaking onto his bare leg at this point. He doesn’t immediately roll away, though; he remains in that freeze-mode, tense and poised, holding you against the span of his side still.
Well. As frozen as one can be with a throbbing case of morning wood.
“I guess we… fell asleep,” you say, carefully, adopting the same cat-like stillness, the pause before a big leap. “Sorry-”
“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Jesus.” Eddie uses the hand that’s not cradling your shoulder to scrub down his face. This close, nestled into his neck, you can feel his loose hair tickling your cheek, the light scratch of his day-old stubble against your forehead when he speaks. “I’m gonna… go take care of this. And then maybe. Breakfast? Christ. Can’t think. All my blood’s elsewhere right now.”
You breathe a chuckle. His arm is still wrapped around you. 
“Yeah. Okay. Or you could just- take care of it. Here, I mean. With me.”
Eddie’s breath stops, actually stops, then stutters back into steady rhythm under your hand. “...yeah?”
He sounds unsure but curious, excitement bleeding into the edges of that one word as your thumb sweeps across the spot where his ribcage meets. “Yeah. Be doing me a favor, too- I was kind of in the middle of a… a good dream. Prob’ly me that woke you up, anyways.”
Eddie’s hand drops from your shoulder, slithers back to his own space, disrupting your head rest briefly- until you realize he’s doing it to make enough room for you both to stretch out flat (on your mattress that was barely designed for one full-grown person). 
“A good dream,” Eddie parrots, as you both re-situate under the thin cover of your floral-patterned top sheet. Shoulder to shoulder, skimming the heat from each other’s bare skin as you stare resolutely at the ceiling, there’s a frizzy mass of black hair in your periphery. A hint of a smile in Eddie’s voice as he asks, “What were you dreamin’ about?”
You can feel the rippling shift of his bicep as his arm moves, hand sliding unseen beneath the sheets- a sharp inhale as his hand finds purchase over the bulge in his boxers. 
In response, your own hand follows the contoured path to the spot below your navel, toying with the band of your panties before slipping underneath. Cupping yourself, feeling the heated slick coat your fingers before dragging it back up to rest your middle against the beating pulse of your clit- “Ah- um. Was dreamin’ about. Uh. Molly Ringwald.”
A few days from your latest John Hughes marathon, it’s the first feasible famous person that comes to mind. Luckily, Eddie just laughs, in a stilted gasp when his fist finds his aching cock- “Oh, fuck- yeah? Redheads do it for you these days?”
“Uh huh.” Maybe if you keep the focus on someone else, you’ll both be able to come out of this event unscathed. Walk away with your hands clean- er. Well. Nope. 
A better analogy is gonna have to wait, because your abdomen’s tightening with each pass of your wet finger over your clit, pleasure licking and sparking, the usual slow-build to orgasm forming with shocking rapidity.
“What was she doing?” Eddie, sounding strained and strung-out already (really makes you wonder how long you’d actually been using each other, in sleep, grinding and working the other person up), hand moving in long strokes- “In your dream, I mean. Licking you out? Did she use fingers?”
It’s not like you haven’t heard Eddie’s dirty talk before- in fact, you helped cultivate it, years ago when he was nervous for a third date and wanted some advice. You’ve coached him on sex techniques, he’s given his own expertise, you’ve both appraised the other's nudes, for christ’s sake- this is just a natural extension of your friendship. Your closeness. 
Eddie’s feeling awfully close, now, his arm bumping against yours with each pass of his fist over his dick, your leg periodically grazing the downy hair of his shin as your hips jolt upwards, into the electricity stemming from the pad of your finger. 
Choking on your words around a bright surge of pleasure- “Y- yeah. Her mouth. Fingers. All of it.”
“Fuck.” Eddie’s form lurches, doing a half-crunch forwards- risking a glance, you catch a glimpse of the sweat beading at his temples, the dark slant of his brow in concentration, jaw working through the grit of his teeth- “Why don’t you use some fingers, then.”
Like he’s got you under some sort of command spell (because you’re not touching the alternatives with a ten-foot pole), you obey, middle and ring fingers curling into the tight channel of your cunt. There’s a spot you hit on your front wall, gummy and responsive, muscles reacting on instinct by contracting and spasming around your fingers.
You’re close already, panting, head tipped back against the bottom sheet, neck bared, eyes squeezing shut at the wave of pleasure that begins to pulse insistently. “I’m- fuck, Eddie. Keep talking, please-”
“So good,” Eddie says, almost funny in how quick he is to interrupt your pleading. “So good for me. Sound so wet, too, bet you’re soaking…”
You are, in fact, rivulets of slick joining into one just under the globes of your ass, cooling and sticky, a bit uncomfortable but since it’s laundry day and you feel this good you can’t really bring yourself to care.
A half-gasp whimper as you writhe your pelvis up, again, chasing that edge, tantalizingly close, the wet noises from your weeping cunt and plunging fingers spurring Eddie on.
“That’s it, baby.” He’s encouraging even in his own heady fog of pleasure (must’ve had a good sex-talk coach), voice low and rough at your ear as he drops his chin to get closer. “Tell me what you need, hm? Lemme get you there.”
“Need you- you, to…” Frustrated by your lack of breath, in lieu of communicating with words you slide your fingers from yourself, seeking Eddie’s hand before you can overthink the action. You leave a trail of slick against his hip bone, and Eddie releases himself to give you his hand- moaning, cock twitching, as you coat your own heated wetness over his dry palm. 
This time, when you both get your hands back on yourselves, it’s with a tandem whine, Eddie’s ending with a hiss through teeth- “Fuck. Fuck, yes. So wet. So good.”
“Yeah?” Like you never left, your pussy molds easily to the shape of your three fingers again. Your other hand leaves your side to paw at your clothed breast, nipples peaking through the lace. “I gotta- I’m gonna take my bra off. Please.”
You don’t actually wait for permission, but Eddie gives it anyways as you slide the cups down, babbling encouragement- “Shit, sweetheart, yeah. Whatever you gotta do. So good for me, tellin’ me what you need. Good job.”
One day, you’re gonna regret telling Eddie you get off on praise, but not today; with one nipple pinched firmly between thumb and forefinger, your other breast spills to the side, resting against Eddie’s upper arm.
He groans, from his toes, fist slipping over his cock with ease thanks to your contribution. The sounds filling your small room are obscene, sex-dipped moans and glossy wet hand movements all reaching a crescendo as both your hips jerk up at the same time.
Keeping the same pace against your clit as Eddie’s keeping on his dick, the spark of pleasure has turned into a roar that swims up to your ears, a white-out of an orgasm fast approaching each time the heel of your palm slams into your clit. 
“Eddie- jesus, Eddie- Eddie Eddie Eddie-”
You’d feel sheepish about how desperate you sound if Eddie wasn’t matching your energy two-fold. His lanky frame thrashes when your speech devolves into a repetition of his name, keening as his fist staves off tipping over the edge with a tight ring at the base of his cock- “That’s it, baby, y’can do it, angel. Come on. Come with me. Please, please-”
With a final cruel twist to your breast, you come undone, orgasm spooling heat throughout your whole system, Eddie’s name unraveling in a long cry. Eddie follows you, fucking up into his fist, ropes of cum shooting to the top of the sheets tent he’d made, hunching against the spasms crawling up his abdomen. 
You ride the last of your orgasm out on the stretch of three fingers, releasing your nipple when the pressure turns to a twinge of pain. Under the covers, your bare chest heaves around the stretched elastic band of your shoved-down bra; with shaky, uncoordinated hands, you reach behind and beneath yourself to undo the hooks, flinging the offending clothing in the general direction of your hamper.
Eddie chuckles, breathless, bellows of his ribs nudging your forearm as he sinks back into his (your) pillow. “Christ. Good thing it’s laundry day.”
There’s no room for shame, no ounce of you that wants to dwell on what this could mean, right now- although there’ll be plenty of time for that later. As it stands, you’re both swathed in a quiet, post-sex bliss, neither wanting to disturb the peace. 
In a dreamy haze, you take note of little things- the drag of Eddie’s pinky against the back of your hand. The glint of his rings stored in a neat line atop your nearby dresser. A block of mid-morning sunshine from the window cast over the bed, prickling at your legs with warmth.
After a few minutes of this, Eddie sits up, mumbling apologies when you snatch the sheets to keep yourself covered. “You want first shower?”
He looks at you over his shoulder, down the lovely arc of his nose, brown eyes tender and staying on you for a beat too long. Squirming under his gaze, you find anywhere else to look (other than the pale slope of his back, smattered and dotted with freckles), shaking your head. “Nope. All yours.”
You flick your interest back to the ceiling as Eddie pulls up his boxers, grimacing at the mess he’s made of your sheets; before leaving, he bends to scoop up your tossed bra, snapping his own underwear to emphasize- “I’ll start this load before showering, then I’ll come back for your bedding.”
At your nod, Eddie leaves to clank around in the laundry closet; then there’s a rusty squeak of the shower handle, a subsequent rush of water, and Eddie’s pleasant husky humming floats down the hall through the open doors. 
You roll onto your front with a contented sigh, burying your nose in the pillow Eddie was just lying on- it smells like him, now, smoky and spicy and familiar. 
You spend the rest of his shower time coming up with a good excuse to save this pillowcase from being washed.
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ham1lton · 5 months
Text
HE SAYS TO BE COOL (I DON’T KNOW HOW YET)
pairings: jenson button x maneater!reader.
warnings: large age gap - around twenty years. a lot of judgement and criticism as there is scrutiny of your relationship.
summary: after a party at a mutual friend’s, you and jenson are photographed leaving together. the large age gap causes concern especially after your admission that you had a crush on him as a young driver.
author’s note: so this is NOT a part of the main maneater storyline. this is just a what if scenario. just something indulgent for the maneaters out there who go for dilfs! last time i checked the friendship group poll, it was practically 50/50 so until that’s decided, there is a big group of all them. also as per usual, there is a poll at the end so please vote <3
— a part of the maneater series ꕤ
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liked by messybitch1, landonorris and 1,728,838 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: after the release of lewis hamilton’s newest almave drink, formula one driver y/n l/n, better known as maneater, was seen outside of the event looking quite cozy with former formula one driver and forty-four year old jenson button. how are we feeling about this new power couple, ham1ltons?
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user1: poor lewis. his drink release has been completely overshadowed by this news 😭
user3: age gap couples never last long lol. good luck but he’ll move on to the next twenty something as soon as she shows one sign of aging.
user34: SHUT UP HES SO FINE 😭 i’d do the same as you y/n girl.
-> user51: LIKE 😭😭😭 bffr. most of the ppl here would fold for their older celeb crush.
user7: idk who’s benefiting more from this relationship? but it’s definitely not love.
user9: Y/N!!!! I’LL SAVE YOU!!!
user2: not jenson going through his mid-life crisis post-divorce. girl u can do better.
user8: maneater… pls say this is a publicity stunt.
-> user73: no cause this genuinely might be her ticking off her childhood crush list. which is real but idk if it’s good for her?
user6: is she fucking all the aging drivers? or is jenson the only one stupid enough to say yes?
user25: i support it. i met my husband when i was 21 and he was 37 and we have been together almost twenty years this may. not all age gap relationships are inherently bad.
-> user4: you’re a victim 😕
user12: y’all are gross. any of us would jump at a chance to date our celeb crush. jenson is hot and y/n is a consenting adult. she’s not a child anymore. she didn’t even know him as a child. bffr.
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liked by bestie2, georgerussell63 and 3,828,782 others.
yourusername: what do you do when you haven’t seen your besties for ages? do a photoshoot in the middle of the street. how did you spend your weekend?
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bestie1: we look so good!!! it was soo good to catch up babe. we missed u!!!
-> bestie2: we’ve all been so busy it’s insane how we’ve not been able to see each other more. i was going insane without my girls!!!
user1: is she not even gonna address it?!
-> user6: big ass elephant in the room.
user4: we knew how you spent your weekend ms l/n.
landonorris: am i not your bestie? why wasn’t i included?
-> georgerussell63: or me?!
-> alex_albon: or me? 🤨
-> logansargeant: or me?? 😕
-> oscarpiastri: i get why i wasn’t included tbf.
user10: u think posting pretty girls will make us forget ur weekend escapades? … maybe. keep posting.
user2: can you guys not make everything about a man? who cares if she’s dating jenson? what does that have to do with her ability to do her job or advocate for causes?! i feel sorry for her because you guys clearly dislike her for stupid reasons and are twisting this into a way to jump her ‘ethically’ which doesn’t even make sense. the only problematic thing she’s done is date a man older than her. grow up, my god.
*liked by landonorris, bestie1, bestie2, georgerussell63, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, logansargeant and 45,728 others. *
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liked by charles_leclerc, bestie1 and 1,092,728 others.
yourusername: italy, i love you ♥︎
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user3: get you a man that flies u out whenever ur sad.
-> user7: why are we not assuming she flew HIM out?
-> bestie2: he definitely flew her out. lmao.
user89: feels like a disaster waiting to happen lol.
-> logansargeant: not every relationship is like your parents. get therapy instead of projecting onto strangers.
user6: still a whore. i can’t stand this bitch.
-> oscarpiastri: stay mad! she’s young, successful and has many people who love and support her while you’re cursed to just scroll through her posts and seethe in your head. this one sided beef is crazy 🤣🤣!
user9: they’re cute!! idk how i’m the only one who thinks this.
user67: she’s still ugly.
-> alex_albon: looked at your pictures mate and cheers, my nan just vomited.
user12: when he leaves her >>>>
-> georgerussell63: 6.220.183.12
-> user3: NOT THE IP ADDRESS HELP?2&/&
user8: jenson. call me when you need a real woman.
-> bestie1: where is the real woman you speak of? she’s definitely NOT you.
user21: honestly? i just can’t get on board with this ship.
-> landonorris: you can’t even afford a ticket 🤣 delete this.
user10: i’m not saying shit cause why the y/n defense squad dragging people in the comments 😭
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liked by oscar.priv, alex.priv and 21 others.
maneater.priv: NEED HIM CARNALLY <3
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bestie1priv: thank god he doesn’t know about ur priv account. i think he’d combust.
-> maneater.priv: nah he giggles. he thinks its funny.
oscar.priv: everyone on a campaign to save you from jenson when they should be saving jenson from YOU!
bestie2priv: LOVE U BOTH <333 cutest couple!
lando.priv: dare you to post this on ur main 😏🤣😁😝
-> george.priv: 43.0.109.12
-> lando.priv: MAN COME ON 😭
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don’t want to miss out on my next post? join my taglist! if you enjoyed this, check out my masterlist or buy me a coffee! no pressure ! <3
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1K notes · View notes
nadvs · 6 months
Text
cam girl (part twelve) (end)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning alcohol use
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summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
Rafe realizes his hands are shaking as he rereads your text.
His eyes keep going over your words, standing up off his bed and pacing around his room just because the adrenaline won’t let him stay seated.
Why the fuck are you doing this to him?
i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i
Hot anger bubbles inside his chest. He immediately texts you back: what the fuck do you mean
Minutes pass. You don’t answer.
Rafe: ?????
Again. No answer.
Rafe: dont ignore me
He can’t take it anymore. He taps on the Call button. It rings and rings and rings. He texts you again.
Rafe: answer me
Finally, you respond: i dont need to listen to you. leave me alone
This has to be a cruel joke. Yet again, you’re cold to him out of fucking nowhere, after he thought you had a good time together.
Rafe recalls this morning, to the worried look on your face when you saw his black eye, making him think that maybe you see something of value past the wall he built around him.
He risked his pride by telling you that he always thinks about you, and now you’re done with him?
He texts you again: why are u acting like this
Thank fuck you respond.
You: i guess the slut got bored of you first
His body goes cold. He knows you’re referring to what one of his friends said. You heard that?
If that’s why you’re so pissed off, he needs to talk to you about it in person. He grabs his car keys and rushes out of the house.
Rafe is pounding on your door for so long that his hand is starting to hurt almost as much as it did when he threw those punches last night.
He feels himself teetering on the edge, getting close to the manic state he knows and hates.
He pulls his phone out to text you: open the door
You: ??? i’m not home
At this point, he sees red. He could break his damn phone if he didn’t need it right now. He calls you again, his jaw clenched so tight that it hurts.
His stomach tightens when the dial tone stops after two rings.
“Am I gonna have to block your number?” you say when you answer. The sound of a crowd and loud music buzzes in the background. He clues in that you’re at a party.
“Where are you?” he asks, head hanging, staring at the hallway floor.
“That’s none of your business.” He can hear a slur in your words.
“Are you drunk?”
“I can drink if I want to. I know you love to think you own me, but you don’t.”
Rafe swallows hard, shaking his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He heard your voice shake. Fuck. You’re crying and it’s his fault.
“Where are you?” Rafe repeats. “Let’s - we need to…” He’s stammering, anxious and unbalanced. “We need to talk… I swear, I’ll fucking wait here until you come home if you don’t tell me where you are.”
Your back is against a wall, the phone pressed to your ear. The room is loud and humid from all the bodies crammed together into one house.
You hate that you’re crying over him and you hate that he can hear it. As if his ego needs the boost.
“Why?” you finally ask, voice strained, hoping he’ll tell you what you want to hear. That there’s a part of him that cares about you.
Rafe is silent for a moment.
“Which one is it?” His chest is tight. He can’t say it now. Not over the phone.
“Neither,” you reply, then hang up. You know he’s just horny and possessive and mad. And definitely bluffing.
You shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you take another shot. Time melts away from you as you get lost in the music with your friend, determined to get Rafe and his drama off of your mind.
It’s half past one in the morning when you order a cab. The alcohol has almost worn off at this point. Someone spilled a drink on you and you just want to take a shower and sleep. You have to promise yourself that you won’t give into the impulse to wear Rafe’s shirt to bed.
You exit the elevator and your heart stops when you see Rafe sitting on the floor, his back against your door, his knee raised, his head slumped.
He meant it. He waited. For over three fucking hours.
When you get close enough for him to hear your footsteps, Rafe clambers up to stand, towering over you. His eyes sweep over your face, the blue in them even more prominent in contrast to the dark bruise over his right eye.
Even though your heart, the traitor, is thumping with desire, the ache of what he did to you is louder. It was barbaric, what he said about you. What he let his friend say about you.
“Why are you still here?” you say as evenly as you can.
“You can’t…” Rafe shakes his head, frustrated. He immediately notices you’re not wearing the necklace he gave you and his chest aches. “You can’t end this.”
“Watch me,” you say with a scoff, nudging past him. You feel him behind you, hear his shallow breaths. You unlock your door and pull out your keys.
He won’t move. You turn to look at him again, feeling your lips thin in aggravation.
“Rafe,” you state. “Please. I just want to shower and sleep. Go home.”
“No,” he says stubbornly.
“Why can’t you just go find another girl to fuck around with?” you say, raising your tone.
He almost feels nauseous hearing you say that.
“Are you worried you won’t find one who does everything like I do?” you ask. “I just can’t say no, right? That’s what you told your friends.”
Rafe looks down in shame, nostrils flaring. His lips screw up in anger. He has no words to offer.
“Go home,” you repeat. You’re sure he’s just upset about losing his favorite booty call, just so not accustomed to not getting what he wants.
Rafe doesn’t budge. You’re sober enough to know you can’t continue this conversation in the hallway and risk your voices carrying into your neighbors’ homes.
Frustrated and embittered, you turn your doorknob and accept the fact that he’s not leaving without a fight.
You turn on the dim overhead light and stand in your tiny kitchen, facing Rafe with your arms crossed, as the door shuts behind him.
He steps towards you, hands sliding up your arms before he leans down to try to kiss you.
“Stop,” you mutter, shoving him off, pushing him away.
He tries again, putting his palms on your cheeks.
“No,” you snap, driving him away harder.
Rafe feels hollow. Lost. He’s fine with showing anger. It’s second nature to him. But this? This tangled feeling of yearning feels impossible to verbally express to you.
“Why?” is all he can sputter.
“I’m not letting you use me anymore,” you say through gritted teeth.
Rafe had no idea you’d react like this over the moronic shit he and his friend said. He thought you were fine with how things were. That you were detached.
Despite the rage and anxiety consuming him, the fact that you’re this angry over this ridiculous idea that you’re not a person to him, that you maybe want to be more, makes hope bloom in his heart.
“It’s not like that,” Rafe says.
“It is,” you argue. “I’m done acting like I’m okay with it. I could handle it at the beginning, but…”
You sigh. You can’t give him the satisfaction of telling him you have feelings for him. You start to get choked up again, though, your body betraying you. You can’t hide what he does to you from him anymore.
“I’m done,” you say resolutely. This man is nothing but trouble. “My contact picture in your phone is a fucking nude. I’m just body parts to you and I respect myself too much to keep this going. Just leave. You won’t change my mind.”
“I can’t… I can’t not see you anymore,” he grovels.
“You’re just mad you won’t be able to brag to your buddies about what I let you do to me.”
“No.” Rafe brings the heels of his hands up to his eyes, looking so damn flustered. “I’m not mad about that. I… Fuck, it’s…”
“What about when he called me a slut to run through? You laughed. After he said something so fucking horrible about me-”
“Wait,” he snaps, tone rising. “Just wait. Let me talk.”
“Then talk,” you say sharply, shocked by his audacity to be the angry one here.
He takes a deep breath.
“When he called you that, I…” Rafe rakes his hand through his hair. “It’s how we always talk and I - I know that’s a shitty excuse, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him to shut the fuck up. And then last night…”
He vaguely gestures to his black eye. His mind replays the rage he felt when he heard the vulgar words used to describe you. The way his fist met his friend’s jaw. Rafe walked away with a swollen eye, but it was nothing compared to what he had inflicted.
“He said something about you and I beat the shit out of him like I should’ve the first time.”
“What’d he say?” you ask after a beat.
“It doesn’t matter.”
So, that’s what happened to him last night. You’re almost touched to hear he defended your honor, but the memory of the text you saw on his phone darkens your mood instantly, reminding you of how dispensable and cheap it made you feel.
“This the same friend who texted you about all the bitches at that party?” you say bitterly.
Rafe meets your gaze.
“You saw that?”
“Yeah,” you say. Rafe realizes that was the reason for your abrupt coldness. You were jealous. He hates that he hurt you, but admittedly, the feeling of you being envious over him is so fucking gratifying.
He sighs your name. He didn’t even glance at another girl last night. Why would he? “For fuck’s sake, I texted you all night. I told you I’m always thinking about you.”
“Rafe, you texted me about how all you want to do is hook up with me.”
“That’s not… that’s not all I want,” he sighs, defeated. How can he explain that the way he touches you is how he tells you what he’s feeling? He’s so fucking bad at talking about it.
“Then why did you talk about me like that?” you ask.
“I was…” Rafe begins. He swallows hard, his eyes refusing to meet yours now. “I know I shouldn’t have said that shit but-”
“You’re only saying this now ‘cause you got caught.”
“No, it’s - it’s more than that. I-”
“You were just being honest,” you say with a shrug. “I did everything you told me to and you wanted to brag.”
“Yeah- I mean, no…” he stammers. Your use of the past-tense is so damn hurtful, the implication that you really are through with him, and before he can think to hide it, tears start to gloss his eyes. “Just listen-”
“If I’m just an easy fuck to you, then that’s fine, just own up to it.”
“Let me talk!” he finally shouts. Rafe’s head is spinning. He’s angry and anxious and close to losing his mind.
You don’t even cower, not letting him get to you. But when you realize he’s crying, too, your blood runs cold.
“Goddamn it.” He frantically brings his hands up to his head, fingers on his temples. “I’m trying to tell you that I didn’t know how to- I don’t know how to talk about this fucking feeling you give me.”
“Try,” you say.
Rafe’s breath is shaky, blinking fast as he gazes at you.
“This is more than sex. I’m fucking… I’m falling for you,” he finally admits.
No words come to your mind. The air between you is thick. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Your stomach is numb.
Rafe lowers his gaze, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He’s worked himself up in such a panic.
He doesn’t know how or when you cracked into this side of him that he didn’t even know existed, but you did. And you’re not leaving.
“Are you serious?” you ask quietly through a shallow exhale.
“Do I need to beg you to believe me?” he says.
“Yeah,” you say with a sarcastic huff, pushing him to see where his limit is. To see if he’s being honest.
You can’t believe what you’re seeing when Rafe sinks down onto the floor in front of you, his knees on your cheap linoleum. He takes your hand in his, pulling it to his warm mouth, soft lips kissing your palm.
He realizes he would rather lose all of his pride than lose you.
“Rafe,” you say, the edge to your tone completely gone now.
The shift in your dynamic is harrowing. He’s always the one in control, the one with the upper hand. Now he’s on his fucking knees for you.
“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes locked on yours. “I’m so fucking sorry I said that shit. I’ll never do it again. You’re not just an easy…”
He can’t even say it.
“You’re so much more,” he says. There’s hopelessness in his gaze. You’re rattled with shock, your heart feeling like it’s burning in your chest.
You can’t believe it. You can’t fathom that he likes you more than just from the waist down.
“What if I stopped hooking up with you?” you challenge. “I keep seeing you but it’s nothing physical. What then?“
“That’s okay,” he says, without hesitation.
“I mean no sex,” you say. “At all.”
“Fine.”
You pout at him in endearment as relief pools through you.
Rafe is racked with the deepest form of desperation. He can’t picture a day without you. Without your smile, your humor, your voice, your smell. He fell off the deep end and there’s no fucking saving him.
Your stare is puncturing him. He’s sure he fucked up too massively to earn any sort of chance with you ever again.
But when you finally lean down to press your lips onto his, euphoria rushes through his entire being. He frantically scrambles to stand, feeling his face contort with disbelief and gratefulness and a yearning so hard that it hurts.
Rafe’s kisses are deep but fast, his big hands cradling your head, thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones.
You pull back, looking up at him with a tiny shred of remaining suspicion that he’s not being genuine.
“Let me stay the night,” he says, voice low, lids heavy. You’re unsure that he really means he’d be with you even without the sex.
You only look at him.
“I won’t try anything,” he adds. He knows you needed the reassurance. You stare at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, resting your hands on his firm, heaving chest.
“Shower with me,” you tell him, restless to wash the night off of you. “And prove it.”
Rafe nods, your face still in his hands. Fuck, he feels like you have him wrapped around your finger. He’d do anything to keep you in his life.
“Let me do the work,” he says.
You step back, heart racing, and raise your hands over your head. His fingers quickly find the edge of your top, slowly lifting it and pulling it off of you. Your jeans are next, the denim sliding down your legs.
Rafe presses against you, leading you backwards into your bathroom. His lips press against your forehead as he unhooks your bra and lets it fall to the floor.
He’s on his knees again as he peels your underwear off. You watch his eyes trail up your bare body. He can’t hide the lust in his stare, no matter how hard he tries.
As you turn on the shower, you hear the rustle of him taking his clothes off. When you step into the tub, you feel his body against your back. Big hands skim up your arms as you turn the faucet, prompting hot water to rain down on both of you.
Rafe can’t stop himself from asking.
“Did you talk to any guys at that party?” His voice echoes against the porcelain, loud even over the sound of the shower.
You smile to yourself.
“How am I gonna focus on another guy when you’re texting me so damn much?”
“Princess,” he huffs. You laugh and turn in his arms to rest your hands on his shoulders.
“No,” you tell him. “I didn’t want to.”
Rafe smirks and leans down, but stops an inch away from your lips.
“Am I allowed to kiss you?” he asks.
“Hmm… fine,” you tease. “But that’s the farthest you can go.” He captures your lips in his, his mouth warm. You feel him grow against you and you pull away to look down, his cock already almost fully hard.
“Okay, I can’t control that,” he says. You meet his eyes and share the first laugh that you’ve had together tonight.
You pick up your body wash and hand it to him. It’ll drive him crazy to touch you like this and not be able to do anything about it.
“You get my body,” you say, admittedly excited to tempt him. “And I’ll do my hair.”
Rafe’s forehead crinkles in concentration as he squeezes the body wash into his palm. Your eyes are on him as he lathers the gel over your shoulders first.
“You’re cute when you’re focused,” you giggle, starting to massage your shampoo into your hair.
The sound of your laugh, the aroma in the air is so fucking nice to him. It’s so you.
His palms move up and down your arms in gentle circles. Rafe’s groin is getting tighter by the second and the fact that he won’t get any relief for it is agony. But he needs to prove himself to you.
“You ignoring my tits on purpose?” you ask.
Rafe cocks his head in mild irritation. Touching you there will only make him harder. You exhale in pleasure once his hands rest on your breasts, gently kneading.
“You can’t make those sounds,” he says, voice strained.
“I can do whatever I want,” you reply. His hands dip below the curves of your tits. You purposely moan louder than you normally would just to torment him.
His jaw tightens as he collects more of your body wash to smooth down your stomach. His hands slide over your hips, the water and soap making your skin extra slippery, and he lands on your ass.
“Massage me a bit there,” you tell him. He huffs an aggravated chuckle, then starts to rub into your flesh.
The crook of Rafe’s neck is at your chin as he leans to massage you and you plant a gentle kiss on his wet skin. The gesture makes his stomach twist with adoration.
“Okay, that’s enough,” he mumbles, running his hands up your back. You can feel him against your leg; he’s fully erect and pining for you to touch him.
“My ass is still sore,” you groan, continuing to lather the shampoo onto your hair. “You were so rough on me in front the mirror, remember?”
The memory of fucking you on the floor in his room makes his arousal skyrocket even higher. He exhales and smooths his hands over your ass again.
You tilt your head to the side as you moan. You feel Rafe’s mouth press against your exposed neck, then he grunts against your skin and moves away abruptly.
“Getting frustrated?” you whisper.
“No,” he lies.
The hot water continues to ebb down your body as Rafe squeezes your ass.
“You can get my legs now,” you mumble. He’s half-relieved, half-frustrated to have to move his hands.
Rafe rubs in circles over your thighs, his breath heavy.
“Get on your knees so you can reach everything,” you say as you wash out the shampoo from your hair. You’re testing him, ordering him around like he usually does to you, seeing if he’ll crack.
When he kneels down, you hike your leg up onto the tub, your middle inches away from his face.
“Fuck,” he breathes, wishing he could just taste you. His hands are sliding down your calves as he gawks at the beauty between your legs, knowing you’re purposely tempting him.
His eyes trail up to your face. He looks ravenous for you.
Falling for you. He said he was falling for you.
“What?” you say with a smile. Rafe only shakes his head, continuing to run his hands over your legs.
“I said kissing is allowed,” you say, revelling in this feeling of control over him.
He doesn’t waste a second. His lips are against your pussy immediately, kissing you over and over. If you tried to keep count of how many kisses he was planting on you, you’d fail in seconds.
Arousal twists deep inside you, wanting him so badly, but loving the game you’re playing.
His lips wrap around your clit and he starts to suck, prompting you push your fingers through his hair, damp from the shower, and tug to pull him off of you.
“Kisses only,” you say. “Unless you didn’t mean what you said?”
“I did,” he huffs. He roughly shoves your wrist away to get close to you again, lips puckered. You feel his fingers ghost over your inner thighs, then pull apart your lips.
“Can I spread you open, baby?” he asks.
“No,” you respond.
“Please,” he begs.
“Kisses. Only.”
He groans. You laugh.
“You got me so turned on,” you moan. “I need to just…”
You slip your fingers between his mouth and your clit, denying him any more access.
Rafe thinks this could be thing to that finally makes him lose his fucking mind. But he stays still, knees aching from the hard tub, as you play with yourself right in front of him.
“That feels so nice,” you whisper, your knees weak. You put your other hand against the shower wall, looking down at him.
“Hold me up,” you order. He grips your hips and watches you moan and writhe over him, dipping your head back.
You dip a finger inside of you, tightening and sighing.
“Fuck.” He literally whimpers the word.
“God, there’s so many things I can think about while I touch myself,” you moan. “Like when we fucked in your car? Or when I squirted on you?”
“Which time?” he mutters, trying to have any sort of power right now by reminding you of what he can do to you.
“Aw,” you coo. “Is this like when I’m on camera? You can watch but you can’t touch me?”
“Shit,” Rafe breathes. You moan, the water dripping off of you.
He has to look away at this point. His cock is so hard that it hurts. His eyes go low, seeing a bead of precum on his swollen tip. He tries to comfort himself by thinking about how he can jerk off later.
“Get up,” you say. He brings himself up on his feet, towering over you again.
You turn your back to him again and start to rub your scalp to make sure you washed all the shampoo out.
“You’re probably cold on that side, hmm?” you ask.
Rafe’s temperature is the least of his concerns.
“I’ll keep you warm,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder. You run your hands down your body and pause over your ass, spreading yourself open.
“Put your cock right here,” you tell him.
“I- I can’t,” he moans.
“You can,” you encourage.
He kneels to place himself right where you want him. You let go, your asscheeks hugging him, feeling his length pressed up against you.
“Fuck,” he whispers, twitching against you. “This is… fuck…”
“If you didn’t mean that you can be with me without the sex, just say so.”
“I meant it,” he says. “But this is torture. I need to go. I’ll wait for you in your room, okay?”
“You can’t keep it together for me?” you tease. “I thought you liked me.”
“I fucking love you,” Rafe groans, making your heart flutter.
You’re done playing this game. You need him now.
You turn to face him, pulling him down with your hands cupping his neck to kiss him. He’s biting your bottom lip, kissing you hard.
“We don’t have to do this,” he whispers breathlessly.
“I want to,” you say against his lips, wrapping your hand around his cock. “What do you want?” He bucks up against you, groaning.
“I wanna fuck you,” he pleads.
“Then fuck me.”
Rafe’s rough and fast as he hitches your leg up, pushing you to lean against the shower wall. He lines himself up at your cunt, stretching you so much nicer than your fingers ever could.
He keeps his eyes on you when he thrusts into you, his expression both needy and satisfied.
“Thank you,” he whispers. The feeling of him thanking you for letting him be inside you hits you like a drug.
Rafe is in heaven. You squeeze him so fucking good as he rocks in and out of you. He needs to make you cum before he does. You deserve it. You deserve all the pleasure in the world.
When he starts to rub his thumb over your clit, you’re trembling with bliss. Everything in this moment feels so damn good.
“You’re my girl,” he mumbles, his usual possessive side back now. “Say it.”
“I’m your girl,” you respond. “Fuck… I love you.”
Rafe is sure he has never felt happier in his life. His thrusts get harder and faster, and with the pressure on your clit and the hot water coating your body, you whine through your orgasm.
To him, it’s a gift watching you reach your peak. You clench around him in rhythmic flutters and he can’t hold back anymore, his cum gushing out of him so fucking hard that he sees stars.
This is the best sex he’s ever had. Because now he knows it’s more than just something physical for both of you.
He kisses you hard as his body trembles, pumping into you. His forehead is against yours as you pant together and even though he’s exhausted, he stays inside you as long as he can manage.
When he pulls out, he brings his hands to your cheeks and kisses you again.
“You meant that?” he asks. He needs to know you that really do love him. That it wasn’t a heat of the moment thing. You look up at him, his lips parted, the water dripping down his face.
“Yes,” you say. His dimples are deep in his cheeks as he smiles at you.
As Rafe helps you clean up, he’s pissed at himself that he never did this before. He hates that you had to always do this alone. He won’t ever let that happen again.
Once you’re both lying in your bed, your bedroom dark save for a streetlamp casting a dull light through the window, Rafe holds you tight.
Your cheek is against his shoulder as he surrounds you in his arms. You both remained naked and the feeling of your bare bodies pressed together like this is perfection.
You softly trace your finger over the bruise covering his eye. The one his friend left on him because of something he said about you.
“What’d he say?” you ask.
“I’m not repeating it,” Rafe replies.
“Please?” you ask. “I wanna know what made you go crazy.”
“He said I seem happier lately,” Rafe says. “And before I told him it was because I wanna… be with you for real, he said… he wants to see if he could get…”
“God,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. He doesn’t have to say any more. His buddy wanted a turn with you.
“But hey, I’m not gonna let anyone say anything like that about you, okay?” he promises. “I’ll beat the shit out of anyone who tries to.”
You picture being out in public with Rafe, his arm around you. And you can’t help but ask. You need to know.
“So… are you gonna… want me around your friends and stuff?” you ask.
“Of course,” he tells you, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re my girl, right?”
It’s jarring. You’re not a lower-class maid to him. Not his personal whore. Not his slutty sugar baby. You’re a woman he loves.
Legs tangled, you fall asleep together, and you adore that the worry of falling for him is now gone. Because you’re in love, and so is he, and now you can enjoy him without telling yourself you can’t.
When you wake up the next morning, you shuffle in your position to find him, but you’re alone.
Your heart drops. Could he have been faking…?
You can’t jump to that conclusion. You’re about to check your phone when you hear crinkling coming from the kitchen.
You put on underwear and the shirt you stole from him a while ago before padding into the kitchen. He’s standing over your table, removing containers from bags.
You realize it’s from your favorite nearby bistro. He ordered food for you.
“Breakfast?” you ask. Rafe looks up at you and he doesn’t understand how every time he sees you, you strike him with how adorable you are.
“You hungry?” he says.
You settle across from him at the table. You realize he must have referenced the screenshot you sent him after the first night that he stayed over, when he sent you money to order breakfast and you sent him proof of what you bought.
As you dig into your food, you gaze at him. Blue eyes meet yours. He smirks. It doesn’t feel real. He used to look so out of place in your apartment, but this feels so natural.
“We gonna talk about how much of a cuddler you are?” you tease.
“Shut up,” he laughs. “Eat your food.”
You laugh and continue to chew.
“What do you have to do today?” he asks.
“I should study,” you say. “I was going to last night after work, but you know…”
Rafe looks down and his Adam’s apple bobs with his hard swallow.
“Are you gonna keep working?” he asks. “I don’t want you to. I wanna take care of you.”
As much as he loves seeing you around his house twice a week, he’s been getting more and more uncomfortable with the idea of you having to work so hard, having to clean up after him.
“Yeah,” you finally say. “I think I need to have the independence. To know I’m working for my own money. Does that make sense?”
“With your attitude? Yeah,” he says. You laugh.
You hope the gossip between your coworkers doesn’t get any farther up the chain. For now, you want to keep your job and the steadiness it promises.
“You can’t pull me away from my work to hook up whenever you want, though, okay?” you say.
“Even when I find you in my bed?” he asks.
“That was one time,” you scoff.
Rafe leans over to place his phone in front of you. He has your contact info up. The photo isn’t what it was before, though. It’s a photo of you sleeping, cheek pressed on his chest.
He must have taken it this morning. He wants to prove you’re not just a body to him.
Your eyes study his screen and you smile, oblivious to the fact that he’s staring at you.
But then again, you never really noticed how much he looked at you whenever you came to work at the house.
He can still remember the rush he felt when he randomly found you on that damn website. You were a fucking fantasy to him, a dream that he never thought he’d get to live out.
But here you are and by some crazy stroke of luck, you found something in him worth loving.
Rafe always enjoyed having some sort of ownership over you, claiming you as his. Because deep down, he always kind of knew he belonged to you. Whether you want him or not, he’s yours.
(the end) (continuation blurbs)
author’s note: THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR THIS SERIES 💘 it’s so bittersweet ending it. i had so much fun writing this and it’s because of your comments and messages 😭 i’ll be writing more fics! if you want updates, please follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications since i’ll be reblogging my work there. love you all!!!
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ohsc · 1 month
Text
₊˚⊹♡ mean | sam winchester x reader
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requested - heyy could u make a sam x reader thing where he fucks rlly roughly but he’s really sweet during aftercare bc the idea that sam is rough during but sweet after makes me weak in the knees🫠🙏 (anon)
a/n - this is. probably the most filthy thing i’ve written. it’s just filthy smut. with a hint of sweetheart sam at the end. i need him so bad it’s not funny. still working on my longer plot fics but i wanted to get this out today to get back into writing!! hopefully you enjoy :) would very much appreciate feedback! <3
cws - fem!reader, 2.4k, nsfw 18+, meandom!sam turned soft!sam, oral f!recieving, praise, very mild choking, condescending words, p in v, mild overstimulation, tears, aftercare, fluff
other fics can be found on my masterlist
˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗
She was convinced that Sam’s mouth was a whole new kind of heaven.
He’d already made her cum once with his mouth alone, large hands pressed into the plush of her thighs to keep them spread, her hips stilled, which were twitching with every sweep of his tongue. He was skilled, drawing the pleasure out of her like it was nothing. Sam had easily spent fifteen minutes down there, eating her out like a starved man, like it was all he wanted.
And she didn’t know how she was still breathing. There was a relief that ran through her that Dean and Castiel weren’t in the bunker that night, because even though they were shut away in the privacy of their room, she was sure that she would’ve been heard. Sam had been pulling noises out of her all night, obscene lewd sounds that she would’ve been embarrassed about being heard if it wasn’t Sam with her.
He always made sure that as much as he made her feel, none of it was embarrassment.
His tongue flattened against her, licking a stripe up between her folds until he pressed against her clit and she shuddered, a horribly whiny sound pushed from her lungs when he closed his lips around the bead and sucked, like he was trying to pull the life out of her. Her hips jolted, unable to go anywhere as he had her pinned down, and she was practically seeing stars as Sam worked down there. She wondered if he was even breathing.
“Sam- oh my god—” She whimpered, hissed in a breath when he licked back down to her entrance and his nose nudged against her clit, stomach clenching as she reached her hands down to grasp onto his hair, fingers curled into the soft strands.
And then he pulled away.
His hands left her thighs as his mouth left her, but she didn’t have time to whine her complaints at the loss of sensation as his long fingers curled around her wrists, yanked her hands out of his hair. “What did I say, huh?” The tone of voice made her pussy clench around nothing. “Hands to yourself. You’re pretty bad at listening, baby.”
Sam shifted over her, his face over hers as he pushed her wrists down onto the pillows above her head, and she almost squirmed when she saw the look in his eyes, the way his lips were wet with her.
“Are you listening?” He squeezed her wrists as a reminder, and her eyes quickly flickered back up to his eyes. “Do I need to tie you up, or will you keep these here for me?” She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to do it. Sam could be such a soft lover — he’d kiss every inch of her skin, whisper praises and compliments, tell her he loved her a thousand times as he made love to her. But he could also be like this, mean and demanding as he fucked her silly over and over. She wasn’t sure which she liked more.
“I’ll keep them there.” She breathed out, her voice still a little too whiny. He’d gotten her so close to cumming again, the lack of stimulation was driving her crazy, her cunt throbbed as she stared up at him.
“Oh yeah?” Sam narrowed his eyes like he didn’t believe her, and let go of one of her wrists to take both into one of his large hands. Her eyes left his face to follow his second as it dipped down between them, fingering at the waistband of his boxers, until she heard a sharp, “eyes on me.”
Her gaze quickly flickered back up to his face. “See? You can be good sometimes, can’t you?” Sam cooed, boardering on condescending, as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. “You just need some reminding, don’t you, sweetheart? Get so lost in that pretty little head of yours when I’m making you feel so good.”
She’d been so distracted by watching his face, head spinning with his words, that she didn’t realise that he’d freed himself from his boxers until she felt the head of his cock nudging between her folds, gliding easily against her with the slick and spit collected there, and she mewled at the feeling, eyes squeezed shut as he nudged at her clit.
“Eyes open,” his hands left her wrists — which she knew now to keep still — and his fingers splayed across her jaw, squeezing unkindly until she looked up again. “Don’t make me tell you again. You wanna be good for me, don’t you?”
She nodded dumbly, sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth as he rubbed her clit with his cock. Teasing her. “Mhm, I will.”
“You will?” Sam gave her jaw one more squeeze, just for good measure, before he wrapped his fingers around the bare skin of her throat. He didn’t squeeze, didn’t put any pressure, just held her, but the threat was there. The head of his cock rested up against her slickened entrance as his head dipped down, lips brushed her ear as he whispered, “what’s your colour?”
They had a pretty rigid safe word system set out — it was something he went over with her every time they had sex, especially like this, when he was mean and grabby and knew that she wouldn’t like it every time. If she so much whispered the word red he’d be up and off of her before she could blink.
But all that left her words was a whiny, “Green, please Sammy.”
She felt his lips curve up against her ear as he smirked. “Good girl.”
Without warning he pushed into her and she sucked in a sharp breath, her own fingers grabbed at each other in an attempt to keep her hands still, and she shoved a breath out of her throat. He’d worked her open with his fingers when he’d been settled down between her legs, but she still felt the stretch, the burn as he settled his cock deep inside of her, and for a moment she had to remember to breathe back in.
“Fuck honey,” he grunted in her ear, fingers gripped her throat just slightly tighter, still only enough for her to feel pressure. “So tight for me, baby. Can barely take it, huh?”
He pulled back before he rutted back inside and she whimpered, squeezing her own fingers together so tightly so she didn’t break his rule. Needing to hold onto him somehow, though, her thighs clamped harshly around his hips, already trembly from the first orgasm he’d pulled from her.
He thrust in again, and again, and again, and soon she saw stars, gasping and whimpering with every drag of his cock against her gummy walls, pleasure rippling through her in waves that made her stomach clench, her cunt clamped down so tightly around him it was a wonder he could move at all.
“So noisy baby,” he crooned on a particular harsh thrust that made her whine, fingers a little tighter around her throat. “Can’t help yourself, can you?” He huffed with another thrust. “Need me to do all the work, hm? Greedy—” he grunted, “greedy girl.”
It took an embarrassingly short time for her to get close again. Sam was fucking her with determination, grunted every time he pushed himself back in, the head of his cock nudged the soft spongey spot inside of her that made her shudder again and again and again until she was a mess beneath him, lewd wet sounds accompanying her whimpers with each shift of his hips, her pussy fluttering around the stretch of his girth.
He didn’t slow down, didn’t ease up, didn’t give her a breather. She was close to tears by the time she was almost there, already sensitive from her first orgasm.
She clenched around him and his fingers, in turn, tightened on the sides of her throat. She trusted him, she knew he wouldn’t push it too far. Just enough for her to feel a little dizzy, for the bliss to wash over her like a high.
“Sam- mm- Sammy—” She was practically blabbering as her eyes filled with tears, gasping with each thrust, each smack of his hips against hers.
“Oh honey,” he cooed, condescending, mean. “Too much, hm? Need something?”
His hand loosened on her throat and she inhaled a little shakily.
“Please—” she whined, blinking through tears up at him. She didn’t miss the flicker in his eyes as the tears dribbled down her cheeks, but she knew that he knew she’d tell him if it was too much. It had happened before, neither of them messed around when it came to their safe words.
“Please what, huh?” He thrust in harshly and she groaned, cunt fluttering, so close— “Ah-ah, not yet. Don’t you need to ask me something, dolly?” He squeezed her throat once. “You remember what happens if you cum without asking, don’t you?”
Of course she did. The week prior she’d cum too soon, and he spent the next what felt like hours edging her, too skilled with his fingers, words too filthy that they made her head spin. He’d made such a mess of her that she hadn’t been able to even get up off of the bed for a little while after he finally let her cum.
“Mhm, mm, yeah—” she inhaled shakily, whining, thighs clamped tighter around his hips. “Please- please can I- please let me—” she groaned.
“Let you what?” He was dragging it out, the fucker, grunting into her ear as he leaned down over her, pushed his cock so deep her vision almost whitened out. “Tell me, honey. Use those words for me, c’mon.”
The tears were bubbling over faster, rolling down her flushed cheeks. “Let me cum, baby, please.”
“Asking so nicely,” he grunted, pressed a kiss to the shell of her ear. “How can I say no to something so pretty, hm? ‘Course you can, baby, go ahead.”
It wasn’t his words that did it for her, but the hand that snuck between them and pressed down on her stomach, the press of his cock suddenly so much more delicious that she almost fucking fainted.
She came with a breathless whine, hips jerked as she finally gasped a breath and whined again, her cunt throbbed around his cock as he kept pumping, rode her through it entirely. Her head tipped back, his mouth on her neck as her eyes squeezed shut, colours danced on the inside of her eyelids, her own little fireworks display.
Sam came shortly after, groaned into her ear in a way that almost made her cum again, and he rutted into her a few more times before he stopped, warmth spreading through her as he panted against her shoulder.
“Fuck,” he huffed, his own chest heaved, brushing against her bare skin. “Oh sweetheart.” The shift in his demeanour was palpable, soft kisses immediately littered across her shoulder and collarbone, palms flattened to smooth over her sweat-dampened skin. He could be so mean in the moment, so dominating and controlling that he left her a fucking mess underneath him, but afterwards? He’d probably feed her grapes and fan her if she asked him to.
She was still gasping for breath, head spinning, and when she knew she wouldn’t be told off for it her hands lifted, immediately clung to his warm shoulders. She loved the way his shoulders felt underneath her touch, muscles rippling with every movement.
Sam kissed up her throat and jaw before he landed on her mouth, and he kissed her slowly, huffed breaths into each other's mouths as he licked between her lips, sweeped behind her top teeth, their lips both wet with spit.
By the time he had pulled away, he’d so thoroughly kissed her that she almost had her breath back.
“You okay?” His voice was so soft it was like there was an entirely different person on top of her compared to five minutes prior. His hand left her throat, smoothed upwards and cupped her jaw. She felt him thumb away tears that had fallen, some clung to her eyelashes, somewhat cool against her hot and flushed skin.
She nodded as she stroked her fingertips along his shoulders with her fingertips, like she’d committed him to memory. She had.
“Hey,” he lightly tapped her cheekbone with his thumb. “Need words, honey.”
She couldn’t help her smile. He was so caring she sometimes wanted to cry. “M’okay,” she whispered, voice soft like she’d shared a secret. “Really good. You’re so good, Sammy.” She praised, tilted her head to kiss his wrist, and he smiled and blushed like he hadn’t just been the one to fuck the life out of her.
“Says you,” Sam leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You’re perfect. Love you,” another kiss. “Love you so much.”
She smiled so much her cheeks hurt. “Love you too.”
Sam smiled too, that soft smile that made his dimples peek out, eyes crinkled at the corners, and he stroked her cheekbone again. “M’gonna pull out, okay?”
Only when she nodded did he shift, slowly pulled his hips back until she was empty, until all she could feel was the wetness coated between her thighs.
“Christ, made a mess of you,” he murmured, not in the condescending tone from before, instead something closer to admiration. “You’re so pretty when you cum, y’know that?”
She blushed, hard, and shrugged as her cheek dipped to meet her shoulder.
Sam laughed, rolled his eyes as he leaned in and kissed her again. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
She was still blushing when he helped her sit up, fingers delicately curled around her elbows to pull her upright, her back also damp with sweat. They’d need to change the sheets.
“Two options,” Sam murmured as he gently stroked hair away that was stuck to her forehead, baby hairs that clung to her temples. “We take a shower and let me wash your hair and then go get food, or you let me run you a bath and you wait there looking all pretty for me while I get you something we can eat in there so I can dote on you.”
“You just wanna wash my hair huh?”
Sam smiled. “Guilty.”
Her fingers found his, intertwined with a squeeze. “Bath sounds nice,” she eventually settled on. “As long as you don’t take too long in the kitchen. I’ll miss you.”
He was laughing when he pressed another kiss to her mouth. “Of course. Promise to not take too long, okay?”
She giggled and nodded, smiled against his mouth when he kissed her again. “Okay.”
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chaussetteblanche · 9 months
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AHH i lived ur luke one do u think u can do another maybe like an enemies to lovers trope (sorry im a sucker for enemies to lovers)☺️
hi babe !! thanks for requesting ! don't apologise we're all on our knees and begging for enemies to lovers <3
I hate you
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pairing : luke castellan x fem!reader summary : you and luke have been mortal enemies for months, will things change because of a quest? word count: 2.3k warnings : swear words, description of a wound
Luke had hated you since your first day at camp. To this day, you had no idea why. But after months of letting snark comments and aggressive capture the flags slide, you’d decided you had had enough. That had been the moment you'd officially become enemies. 
When he'd jeer at you, you'd bite back with even more venom. If you made him drop his sword at capture the flag, he’d come after you with his bare hands. When one hit, the other hit back harder. It was constant war. 
The rest of camp never understood this hatred you both harboured for one another. Singularly, you were both kind, generous and intelligent people. The kind of people you’d expect to get along fine and even become good friends. But no, it was always one thing after the next. 
So imagine your horror when a relatively new camper was chosen for a quest and found nothing better to do than pick you and your mortal enemy to accompany him. It was your worst nightmare come true. You froze when both your names resounded in the agora. 
You choked, coughed and held back from spluttering, refusing to embarrass yourself. You smoothed down your camp shirt and nodded. You did not look at Luke, even though you could feel his heated glower on your skin. He would probably find a way to blame you for this. Chiron looked between you and Luke with a raised eyebrow and pursed lips. You could almost hear what he was thinking. Nonetheless, he abided. 
Walking back to your cabin to prepare your things, you could hear the word actively spreading behind you.  "Did you hear that-" "Yeah, he’s chosen Luke and-" "They’ll be lucky if they don’t kill each other." Rolling your eyes, you shut yourself in your cabin and leaned back on the closed door. You dug the heels of your hands into your eyes, groaning. This was going to be nightmare.
And it really was. By hour 12 of the quest, you’d managed to get yourself thrown out of a train, fought off two harpies and had lost Luke.  "Where the hell did he go?" you asked loudly as you and Alan, the young camper, walked in direction of your next task. "He couldn’t have just disappeared!" "I don’t know, maybe he’ll join us later on." Alan shrugged. You frowned.  "Do you know anything about this?" You slowly turned to to him and he took a step back, shaking his head. "No, no, I-" "I’d suggest you think twice before lying to me, Alan," you growled. Alan sighed. "Yes, he told me he wanted to see how badly you did on your own so he could report it to camp." "Right." Of course. Of course he would find a way to make the dangerous quest even harder than it needed to be. You inhaled deeply, trying to remind yourself not to take your anger out on this thirteen year-old child. Your blood boiling, you turned back around and continued to walk. If Luke wanted to stay behind, that was fine with you. Better that than have him be in your way. 
"Oi!" Called a voice about an hour later. Ugh, Luke. You ignored him, keeping a steady pace. He called your name again. You didn’t react until his hand came down on your shoulder.  Before he could say another word, you spun around and pushed him up against the nearest tree, your forearm pressing down on the column of his throat. "Who the fuck do you think you are," you snarled, close to his face, "to leave Alan and I alone? The quest comes before everything! It comes before your hatred for me and your stupid pettiness! So pull yourself together and stop fucking around! » You shoved yourself off him, glaring into his eyes. He looked at you darkly before grabbing your wrist and pulling you close to him. "Yell at me again, princess, and I’ll give you a real reason to scream," he warned in a low voice. You scoffed, ripping your wrist out of his grip.  "Shut up and start walking, Castellan."
The quest went smoothly -as smoothly as it could go considering the tension between Luke and you- after that. You found that the three of you made a pretty good team. Everything was going fine and you had been on your way back to camp when you crossed a griffin. You pushed Alan behind you immediately, taking out your sword at the same time Luke did. "Distract him, I'll go around the side!" Luke ordered, running off. Despite not wanting to follow his orders, you set your jaw and instructed Alan to hide. You twisted your ring, a gift from your mother which turned into a shield when twisted the right way, and waited for the shield to form before banging your sword against it.
"Over here, you stinking pile of feathers! Or should I say fur?" You yelled as you ran backwards, away from Alan. You continued banging your sword against your shield and watched as Luke charged forward from the griffin's unguarded side. The beast shrieked as it was struck and batted Luke away with its large wing. Luke flew to the side with an 'oomph' sound. Despite your despise for him, you felt surprisingly concerned.
You darted forward as the griffin raised one of its clawed feet, ready to strike down Luke, who was slowly getting to his feet. The loud clang of claws meeting the metal of your shield made him look up quickly. You were straining underneath the power of the monster, pushing back against your shield with all of your strength. "Fucking. Move." You managed to speak through clenched teeth. Luke finally snapped out of his daze and bolted to the side. You readied yourself before jumping to the side, out of the griffin's reach -or so you thought. He swapped at you with his other clawed foot and despite you trying to run out of the way, managed to cut a gash in your side. You cried out. You heard Luke and Alan scream your name, but they felt far away.
You spun around, livid, and cut off the beast's hand as it came down towards you once more. Luke took his chance and stabbed the monster in the chest. The three of you watched as the creature turned to dust. You fell to your knees. Luke was next to you in a second, breathing heavily. He laid you down in the grass, muttering to himself. "Show me," he ordered, lifting your shirt up to reveal your stomach. You squirmed both from the strange feeling of having his eyes on your revealed body and from the stinging pain of the cut. "Gods- how bad it is?" you asked. The sound of Alan vomiting was indication enough. Luke bit his bottom lip, brows furrowed. "It's fixable. You just need ambrosia and a healer." "Really?" You hated the way your voice sounded so weak. Luke nodded strongly. "Trust me." And for some reason, you found that you did. He stood up and sheathed his sword before gesturing for Alan to take your bag.
"Can you walk?" he asked, though it sounded like more of a formality than a real question. You lifted yourself up on your elbows and groaned in pain. You shook your head, hating the fact that you had to rely on him of all people for help. "Okay, then." Luke bent forward, going to pick you up. "Wait." He stopped immediately. His eyes snapped up to your face, which had gone frighteningly white. You were staring at the gash across your stomach. It went from the top of ribs to the side of your belly button. And it did not look good. The cut was jagged and blood poured out all over your clothes. Luke watched, helpless, as your fingers reached out to touch the cut. You hissed in pain before looking up into his eyes.
"I'm going to die." Your voice shook dangerously. He hated the way your eyes watered and the way you looked so scared. He'd never seen you look that way before and he wanted to wipe the sight from his memory. You did not have a face that was meant to look frightened. You had a face which was meant for pride and victory. "Look at me." He grabbed your chin and kneeled next to you. "You are not going to die." He pulled a spare T-shirt out of his bag, balled it up and pressed down on your wound with it. "I know, it hurts," he cooed as you whimpered with pain. "Hold it here."
Ignoring your groans of pain, he pulled you into his arms and stood up. Your vision was becoming blurry, but you did all you could to keep pressing down on your wound with his T-shirt. You heard him bark out orders to Alan in the distance. "Luke," you spoke softly as black dots danced in your vision. "No, no, no, don't close your eyes, princess. Keep looking at me." "I don't wanna die," you whispered before passing out. Luke clenched his jaw as he sped up the pace, ordering Alan to keep up with him. "Idiot. You're not gonna die. I won't let you."
You awoke to a soft yellow light surrounding you. Slowly opening your eyes, you looked around to find yourself in the camp infirmary. Luke was on a chair beside your bed. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "Hey." "Hi," you croaked, trying to sit up. Wobbly, you managed to sit somewhat straight against the pillows. "How're you feeling?" Luke asked, looking over your face. He was relieved it to find it less white that it had been two days before. "Like shit, really." You let out a hoarse chuckle. He laughed shortly, looking down at his hands. You were surprised to find it was a really nice sound. That had been the first time you'd ever heard him laugh, and it felt really good to be the cause of it. "How long have I been out?" "Two days and a half." You were quiet for a moment as you thought back to the last things you remembered. "I guess I should thank you for saving my life, Castellan."
Luke let out something close to a scoff and leaned back in his chair. "You saved mine first. Thank you." "Well, yeah." You coughed. "I couldn't just let you die like-" "I don't hate you, you know," he interrupted you. You stopped talking. "Not really."
"What do you mean you don't hate me? Of course you do. You can't stand me. You think everything I do is stupid and bound to failure." "No, I- I don't hate you. I'm envious of you. Of what you have." "Of what I have? I have a fucking hole in my stomach right now, Caste-" "Of your mom. Mostly."
Your lips made an 'O' shape as you understood. Suddenly, everything made sense. That was why he'd disliked you from the start. You had the one thing he never would. Your mother was a minor goddess and did not have many children. This permitted her to be frequently in contact with you and therefore play the role of a present mother. Your father always kept in touch with you. You knew that with each of them you would always have someone to turn to. Unlike Luke.
"Mostly?" you asked, tilting your head to the side. "I'm envious of how whenever you walk into a room, it immediately lights up. Of how everyone likes you. Of how you always look good, even if you've just been torn to pieces by a griffin. Of how you always seem to see the good in people, except for me, I guess. Of how you get along with everyone except for me." Luke didn't meet your eye as he spoke. "Maybe if you hadn't been such an ass when we first met, we'd have gotten along fine. And I do see the good in you, I just like to ignore it for my own benefit." Luke's eyes shot up to yours.
"What do you mean 'your own benefit'?" "Well, if I didn't ignore the way you're so kind to the new kids, the way you're so protective of your friends and Annabeth, the way you stand up for what you think is right, the way your eyes look when they catch the light just right and the way your laugh seems to draw everybody in, then maybe... Maybe I wouldn't dislike you at all. Quite the contrary, actually." You could feel your heart hammering inside your chest as you spoke. The way Luke was staring into your soul was not helping either.
"Say something, Luke," you pleaded. His first name felt soft and foreign on your tongue. You had never said it before.
Luke did not answer. Wordlessly, he stood up and was by your side in two steps. He cupped your cheek, leaned down and brushed his lips against yours. Your heart raced and when he pulled away, you found yourself chasing his lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and smiled before kissing you properly. Eruptions exploded in your stomach as you kissed him back. You pulled him closer by the shirt as his warm lips pressed against yours. Finally, you couldn't help but think. All those feelings you'd ignored and pushed to the back of your mind finally broke free and you almost cried from relief.
His free hand found the back of your neck and you shivered as his fingers caressed the skin there. You leaned into his touch and cupped his jaw before slowly sliding a hand into his hair. He let out a soft moan but before you could get too into it, a cough resounded throughout the room.
"I'm glad to see that you and Luke have managed to work through your differences, Y/N." Chiron spoke, amusement dripping from his words, as he trudged into the room. "Now tell me about your quest."
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chrissdollie · 3 months
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rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs
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a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3
SFW
chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((
i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever
he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)
sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c
but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.
out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!
when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.
you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off
one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.
you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".
for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3
imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.
you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"
you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!
u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal
but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody
chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((
NSFW
speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.
chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.
"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"
in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate
chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u
watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.
he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths
chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.
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@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht
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stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.
so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.
it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.
you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.
he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.
but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.
he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.
“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”
simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.
“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.
“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.
“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.
you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.
your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.
“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.
he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.
“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.
“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.
he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.
“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.
“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.
you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”
his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.
“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.
he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.
he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.
he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.
“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”
he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.
simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.
“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”
you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.
“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”
his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.
you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.
he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.
JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER
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