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lucyandthepen · 3 months

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get you alone | ljn ( m )

ideally, jeno should have his hands full with teaching. (un)fortunately, he only seems to have his head full of you.

pairing: tutor!jeno x reader verse: college au rating: r ( minors, do not interact! ) warnings & tags: jeno is a college algebra math tutor & reader is failing, written in lapslock, not beta’d in any shape or form so please excuse mistakes, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, folks), piv, oral (f!receiving), use of pet names (kitten, angel, sweetheart), praise, reader calls jeno ‘sunbae’ until she doesn’t, size kink i guess if u squint! word count: 8.5k

a/n : actually this was written for a different fandom but i’ve decided to make it a jeno fic bc idk why not! first time writing in a different perspective so it’s a bit odd for me & i can't say i fw with this style nor am i particularly proud of this fic but she is ... sumn! also i fear i have a thing for the math tutor trope but that’s neither here nor there AHA enjoy !!

if you liked it, please consider reblogging to support (especially because this may get flagged for mature content)!

there wasn’t anything special about your case; at least, that’s what jeno had thought when he picked up your request before he met you. before he met you, you were just another student trying to demystify the painfully enigmatic art of getting through college algebra. before he met you, he had already tagged this case as another charity stint — a good way to get brownie points with the dean’s office and the mathematics and natural sciences department. in fact, thinking of all his tutoring cases as community service made them somewhat palatable, if not a little forgettable. he was quite sure, at the time, that you’d be in and out — both of the tutoring center and his memory. such was the case with most of his other tutees, anyway.

he hadn’t expected you to be… well, you — a pretty little thing, with your sweet smile and your wide doe eyes. on the first day, you’d stood out; you’d arrived at the tutoring center’s lobby in a short dress, knit cardigan, and coquettish makeup, as if every fiber of your being were bidding the spring a solid farewell. multiple heads had turned, including his, as you came up to the front desk and asked for one lee jeno for college algebra. you were eager for summer, jeno had learned as you broke the ice little by little, in part because you looked forward to visiting okinawa with your family, but also because you were eager to get your first semester out of the way. that much, you had in common with most of his other students — almost all of the ones seeking help in college algebra only took it as a depressing core requirement of whatever degree they were doing. you, specifically, were focusing on fashion design; that very vividly explained your attention to your looks. this mathematics class was a thorn in your side, a mandatory thing that was simply supposed to get you through later business-oriented classes in your degree program. for jeno, however, college algebra had become the perfect excuse from the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

the more time he spends with you, the more he thinks you’re exactly his taste. it starts off with little things he finds attractive, things he picks up while he’s watching you fill out the practice sheets he’s prepared for you on quadratic equations or while trying to get you to understand logarithms — your neat, tiny handwriting, almost like print; your habit of boxing your final answers in firm strokes, even if they’re hopelessly wrong; your colored tabs, cascading down the page side of your textbook. but as the weeks wear on, he sees all the little things in between — the way your long eyelashes quiver when you stop and close your eyes as you think for the answer, the upturn of your plush lips when you have the same answer on the practice sheet as he does, the deepening of your artificial blush with a natural hue when you realize you don’t know the answers to his gentle questions. he notices that you refuse to wear anything longer than a knee-length skirt despite the still-strong winds, notices that your tiny palms are always smooth and pink, that your hair always smells of coconut milk. these are things he can’t help but jot down in his memory — that was exactly what you were, after all: memorable.

and the more he remembers about you, the more jeno wants you. yet he’s never made a move, never given so much as a hint of his interest, not only because there are prying eyes all around the building but also because you have never so much as shown a smidge of desire back. in fact, he has to wonder if you’ve ever thought of him in a different capacity — not as a tutor, but as a man. if you have, you’ve never made that obvious; you always talk to him respectfully, the little wall you’ve erected between the both of you remaining steady, and you never let your eyes linger on his face for longer than it takes for him to explain what you don’t know. jeno has had his fair share of female students, and in all of them, he’s seen the same kind of hunger — to few, he’s catered to their whims, if only to pass the time, if only for his own benefit. but you, with your ribbons in your hair and your sweet, sweet mouth, have never once shown that same kind of desire.

he doesn’t know if it frustrates him, but he does know one thing — it makes him want you all the more.

he wants you even now, as you sit across from him, dolled up as usual. even now, as your eyes take on a glassy sheen of defeat, your cheeks puffing out in the way that tells him you’re admonishing yourself once again, he craves you — maddeningly so. and he realizes that it doesn’t really matter if you're not the one to fall first, as long as he can still have you.

“time out,” you beg, your fingers meeting the palm of your hand to signal a break. “my brain feels like it’s going to explode.”

“you just had a break ten minutes ago,” jeno reminds you, though there’s a lighthearted amusement to his voice that makes you smile sheepishly. “at this rate, you’ll be on more breaks than you’ll be taking the time to actually learn.”

“i’m trying,” you groan, your fingers curling against your forehead as you bump your head against your fist. “i just don’t think i’m cut out for this polynomial whatever — trial and error bullshit.”

“you’ll hate me for saying this — but you’ll never know unless you keep trying.”

“funny.” your sigh rustles the papers in front of you gently. “how do you do it, sunbae?”

“hm?”

“you’re not only good at this stuff, but you’re so good you’re able to take the time to teach people like me.”

“strengths and weaknesses — it’s the natural way of the world.” jeno smiles gently at you, and he notes how his chest feels tighter when you return the sentiment shyly. “i could never do what you’re doing in your own degree, try as i might. anyway, you’ll get there. i won’t let you become my first ever failed project, you know.”

“i wouldn’t want to let you down either, sunbae, but—” the back end of your pencil taps lightly against the surface of the table. “it just feels hopeless. i can’t focus on anything. it’s so… so abstract, and everyone here is talking all at once, and i don’t even know what i’m ever going to get out of this class in the long run.”

even when you’re dejected, you look pretty; your bottom lip juts out naturally when you whine like this, and for a moment, jeno can’t say anything in response. he’s too busy wondering what your mouth would feel like on his — on him. when he snaps himself out of his brief reverie, he notices you’re looking around at everyone else — and he has to agree that with the noise level in this whole building, it isn’t the most conducive site for learning, especially when the learner is already so averse to the subject matter.

“i can’t help much in the way of it being too abstract,” he says kindly. “but it’s not a requirement for us to have our sessions here. i know it can be quite distracting, all these voices flying around, so why don’t you look for a place that better suits you, and we can start meeting there instead? the more comfortable you are in your environment, the better you’ll be able to absorb the material, i’m sure.”

“you think?” your pencil comes to a slow halt as you refocus on him, a thoughtful light glimmering behind your gaze. “yeah — yeah, i actually wouldn’t mind that. then, i’ll look for a different place for us to meet, and we can start there next week. how does that sound?”

“whatever suits you suits me,” he responds easily.

he lowers his gaze immediately after you flash him a blinding grin; there are far too many people here, as you both very well know, and if he keeps looking at you and your pretty little expressions any longer, he might just give them something to actually look at.

it had been your idea, not his, so why did jeno feel like he’d dragged you into a compromising situation?

you’d texted him over the weekend that your search for a new venue had been absolutely fruitless; every cafe and study space you’d been to was either too expensive or equally as packed with people, if not both. jeno had seen the preview to your message, but he hadn’t been prepared for what it read out in full when he’d actually opened it.

sunbae, would it be too difficult to just meet at my apartment? i attached a map, so let me know!

it wouldn’t be too difficult; logistics-wise, it was walking distance from campus and almost directly across the train station he takes home. it also definitely promised an environment you were comfortable in, and you wouldn’t have to worry about excess noise from any other tutoring groups. no, the difficulty really only lied in himself — you two, all alone, would certainly mean his mind would be up to no good for the two hours every monday, wednesday, and thursday you would be together.

but for your sake, he’d try to rein it in, with the operative word being try.

your place is as neat and as pretty as you are; he doesn’t know if you’ve cleaned up for him, or if you’re naturally this organized, but he likes it all the same. it smells of toasted marshmallow and expensive perfume, and all your furniture matches. jeno supposes he likes that in a woman — someone able to care for herself, someone who cares about herself. and you’re always just as neat and pretty to match, with your hair always styled sweetly, your makeup always enhancing your features.

the problem is that now that he’s in here, where you live, and where you spend most of your time, jeno’s mind seems to wander too much towards thoughts about what you do in private. he rejects studying on the couch, not just because it’s bad for posture and concentration but also because he can’t help but imagine you pressed into the cushions by his hand. he suggests the small dining table you have, but on the second meeting at your place, he starts thinking about what you might look like seated on the table, your ass hanging over the edge and his face buried between your thighs. whenever you look up to ask him something, he drinks in your lovely, made-up face again, and starts wondering what your makeup would look like ruined before he interrupts that trainwreck of a thought with the answer to your question.

by the end of the week, jeno’s defenses are all but shot, and he realizes that this situation might be optimal for you, but it definitely isn’t doing him and his now constantly straining cock any great favors.

he supposes that your performance has somewhat improved; you’re less likely to trail off when you’re thinking and can actually do practice sets for a lot longer without all the noise and hubbub around you. your only real hindrance is yourself and your frustration; you have a habit of giving into your carelessness that sends you spiraling into despair, and it doesn’t help that when you press your cheek against the surface of your dining table and whine, the comfort jeno offers is noticeably delayed because he’s too busy thinking about his cock between your lips.

“my dad’s going to kill me if i fail this midterm,” you grumble, stabbing the practice sheet with your pencil; it skids sideways, and jeno robotically fixes it back into proper alignment for you, careful not to brush against the arm that’s folded inwards, supporting your chin. “he only agreed to let me take this degree because of the business aspect of it. as if i’ll need to know about—” you check the header of the worksheet. “domain and range when i’m doing actual design work.”

“you’ll never know what might be useful later on in life. i definitely thought this was nonsense back in high school — and then i got this job.”

“and now you’re rolling in dough?” you smile slightly. jeno chuckles.

“i’m a long way away from having myself a scrooge mcduck golden pool, but i make enough to get by very comfortably, thanks to this.”

“thanks to me, you mean.”

“you’re not my only student,” he snorts, pinching your elbow; you cry out exaggeratedly. “focus up. the hour’s almost over, and you should have finished with this much earlier.”

“can you leave it as homework?”

“not a chance.”

you blow out a sharp puff of air. “my mom used to do this thing where she’d give me rewards if i did well with my homework. i wish i’d still get something out of this.”

“what kind of rewards did she give you?”

“chocolates — candy, or sometimes we’d go out for milk tea together, if i did a particularly good job.”

“this is math tutoring, not a trip to the dentist,” jeno says, amused.

“a trip to the dentist would be more enjoyable,” you mutter under your breath, picking up your pencil and doodling an angry face next to the number you’re only halfway through solving. “this totally blows.”

“try to finish this before the hour’s up, and i’ll see if i can get you something nice. out of my own paycheck,” he stresses, prodding at your cheek to shift your attention back to the paper. he doesn’t miss the fact that your eyes light up, childish as the promise is.

he doesn’t know if that’s really what motivates you, but you do manage to finish the worksheet with a few minutes to spare before the clock hits seven, and that earns you some light, solo applause. it isn’t much by way of true praise, but you flush with pride all the same. jeno packs his things in silence as you get yourself a glass of water, and you see him to the door. only there does he notice your eager eyes, your expectant smile.

“what’s going through that pretty little head of yours?”

“are you really going to give me a reward? i did great today, you know,” you respond bluntly.

“you were serious about that?” he laughs.

“absolutely. i earned it.” you raise a slim finger, wagging it in his face. he trails it with his gaze, no shortage of amusement in his eyes. “next monday, i want something sweet.”

jeno takes in the sight of you, keeping your door open with your hip; he wonders if you know what you’re doing to him, what you’re asking of him — if you even know there’s nothing that could possibly be sweeter than you at this very moment. he drinks in the sight of your feigned haughty expression on your pretty features, the unnervingly low dip of your tank top, the tempting hemline of your shorts, and feels like you must be aware of what he’s going to do next.

“if it’s something sweet you want, you don’t have to wait until next week.”

he does it before he can think it through — surely, there’s nothing too harmful about a quick kiss? he angles your chin upward with his thumb and forefinger before you can even react to his words, and he tastes you like that for the first time. you’re just as soft and as sweet as he’d imagined, if not more so.

when jeno pulls away, you step back; there’s shock written all over your face, your mouth still hanging open slightly. your voice is gentle, shaky when you start speaking.

“sunbae, wha—”

“see you next week. rest up over the weekend, or there’ll be consequences.”

he finds it easy to joke with you now, even after what he’s done — finds it easy to wave goodbye with nonchalance as he walks to the elevator, now that he’s gotten one thing out of his system. the look on your face, the growing blush across the bridge of your nose and your temples is indication enough for jeno to feel confident — if you hadn’t thought about him that way before, you were sure to spend the next few days doing exactly that.

it’s exactly a week before your midterm exam, and jeno notices you’re less than focused.

he’d let you stew over the weekend, not expecting much by way of communication; indeed, his phone hadn’t once been jostled by your texts. he’d taken that silence to assume that you’d been wrapped up in thoughts of the kiss he’d left you with, and you did not disappoint on that front; the next monday saw you fidgety, flushed, and constantly faltering in your words. you asked less questions, which normally indicated a problem, but today, he’d let it slide; you definitely had a little too much on that pretty little brain of yours.

he notices you’re still dolled up — your eyelids are shimmery, and your lips are glossy; you’re wearing a tennis skirt that hits all the right buttons for him, too. it’s true that you’re always pretty well-dressed and put together, but today somehow feels different. if before, jeno had always seen you dressed up simply to look good, today it feels a little more like you’re dressed up to look good for him. he knows it’s a little bit egotistical to assume as much, but he also doesn’t miss the side glances you throw at him when you think he’s not looking at you answering your textbook or the way your cheeks glow when you make the slightest bit of eye contact.

still, you try to focus as much as you can; it’s adorable, in fact, to see all your valiant efforts to appear unperturbed. he figures he’ll play along for as long as you will — what matters to him, after all, is that you’re in the game to begin with. you complain less today, focus on your worksheets, and jeno even manages to witness the sight of your forehead creasing up as you concentrate on a particularly difficult item. you’re adorable, in the kind of way that makes him want to pin you down and have his way with you.

you finish your work without a fuss today; you only actually asked for his help twice, which was a feat in and of itself. and again, when the session is over, you walk him to the door.

this time, when you linger, he waits; you’re clearly not good at hiding your true intentions, as it’s become clear you have something you want to say. as you try to piece your thoughts together, jeno reaches into his backpack’s front pocket and extracts today’s gift — an actual chocolate bar, albeit a rather run of the mill one.

“what’s this?” you ask, your thought process clearly derailed as confusion takes over your features.

“your reward. for a good job last week and today — you said you wanted one, didn’t you?”

“but i thought—” you stop yourself, your mouth opening and closing, suddenly wordless. jeno grins.

“not good enough? i picked that up from a convenience store on my way here, so it definitely isn’t anything special, but i thought it would at least be a good motivator.”

you’re turning red, and there’s turmoil in your eyes — he enjoys this, he realizes, the way he flusters you. if he had known this would be the result, he would have made a move much sooner. you shift your weight from one foot to the other, back and forth, obviously weighing out your options too. finally, you say, “alright.”

“you seem disappointed.”

“i’m not.”

“i’ll get you a better brand next time, if you really don’t like it.”

“it’s not that.”

“so what is it?” he doesn’t expect you to say it, and you don’t defy expectations; your bottom lip just quivers, and jeno chuckles low under his breath, stepping forward just past your doorway, just a little bit closer to you. “don’t tell me you wanted something completely different?”

you don’t say so, but he knows; he can tell by the way you tilt your head back, the way your lips part slightly, the gloss still trailing along the seam. he can tell by the way your torso arches just a little bit closer, almost like an accident. he can tell by the way your eyes bore into his, almost pleading.

“what you did last week…” you start, but your voice trails off into nothing soon after. he chuckles again.

“ah, that. i might have gotten ahead of myself.”

“was that all?” you press.

“and what would you do, if it wasn’t?”

“well — do you always like to play games?”

“i have a penchant for playing with my food before i eat it, if that answers your question.” he smiles down at your still-reddening face. “i was giving you a reward, as you wanted. i came up short on options then and there. you’ll let it slide this once, won’t you?”

“you did that just because i did well last week?”

“of course.”

“well, i did well today, too.”

“you did, and that’s why you have this.” he gestures to the chocolate bar in your hand.

“i don’t want this.” your voice is stubborn now, heated and frustrated, and you stuff the chocolate back into his hand. you must not like having to ask for something so blatantly — it’s too bad jeno wants to hear it in those exact words.

“tell me what you really want, then.”

you’re still unable to find the words, but your hands do the talking for you; they press into his shoulders and give you leverage to tiptoe until you’re just close enough to his lips. but you don’t close that gap, your mouth quivering only inches away from his, and oh, jeno wants to toy with you, but you’re just too irresistible this close to him. his warm palms press against your jaw, keeping your face steady as he closes the gap, and this time, he doesn’t just get a brief taste of you — jeno claims your lips with the thirst of a man who’s stumbled upon an oasis in the desert.

you must have thought about this moment long and hard over the weekend, because the nonchalant side of you that’s turned a blind eye to him is completely gone; he drinks in your soft noises and short, breathless gasps — all signs of your eagerness — until he’s drunk on the taste of you. the deeper the kiss gets, the less you can keep up, but you try, and jeno always likes rewarding your efforts, his wide tongue taut and flush against your tiny one in the sweet, warm cavern of your mouth. he licks every inch of it, leaves the mild nicotine taste of himself there, before he pulls away slowly. your eyes are still closed when he creates distance, fluttering open in a happy haze a few seconds later.

“good enough for you?” he murmurs, tucking a soft lock of hair behind your ear. you hum in assent through your dazed smile, and jeno knows he won’t be the only one looking forward to this coming wednesday.

you’d done really well today.

jeno’s proud of you — prouder than he’s been of most of his students in his career here at the university, actually. you’d finally answered a worksheet almost perfectly, save for a couple of numbers where you’d forgotten to round up, and those things are absolutely negligible at this point (by his books, anyway). you’ve been on your best behavior yet, avoiding all forms of complaint, and he knows fully well why, but he won’t criticize you for your hard work all the same, no matter the motivation behind it.

in fact, you’ve done so good that he doesn’t wait until he’s about to leave to give you your sweet reward — which is why, twenty minutes before he’s meant to go, he’s got you on your couch, your legs spread, each one hooked over his shoulders.

truth be told, you’d been good way before the lesson had started; you’d answered the door in a crop top and the tiniest pair of shorts you’ve dared to wear yet — all clothes that you couldn’t yet wear outside yet, given the weather. selfishly, jeno is thankful for this fact, and if he had to list down other things he’s thankful for, just off the top of his head, it’s that you no longer meet in the tutoring center and that your apartment’s walls seem thick and well-reinforced.

“sunbae, don’t tease me.” your silly little whining voice makes its first appearance of the day, but all jeno does is smile — it’s an almost wicked expression, set firmly between your thighs. “you said i did really well today. don’t tell me you’re backing out on rewarding me?”

“not at all, sweetheart,” he hums, pressing a small kiss to your inner thigh. he likes seeing you shiver at the contact, likes the way you’re chewing on your lip in what appears to be slight agitation. “just thinking of how much of a reward you deserve.”

in all honesty, jeno would like to take every bit of you now; you’re already so ready for him, anyway. he can smell the faint perfume of your arousal, can see the way you’re anticipating the most from him, and a part of him doesn’t want to deny you of that. the larger part of him has dreamed of burying his cock into you, anyway, and why wouldn’t he do that? but something also tells him to wait — or, rather, to make you wait, to make you want him just a little more.

and so, he decides.

his mouth finds your skin again, pressing kisses up your thigh; they get wetter, hotter as his mouth moves up, until his nose and lips are buried against your clothed core. you squirm in response, but his grip on your thighs keeps you relatively steady, even as his tongue presses against thin fabric. the wet muscle pushes sharp against your tiny entrance, the tip meeting slight resistance against your shorts and panties, but he finds a way, burying half his tongue in alongside damp cloth.

you’re already wet like this, and so needy that it might be possible for jeno to get you off just like this, still clothed, but the hunger in him spikes once you call out to him.

“sunbae, please…”

with a groan, his fingers yank the fabric aside, exposing your pussy to the warmth of his breathing. it’s as pink, as pretty, as tiny as the rest of you, as fuckable as he’d imagined it would be, and he wastes no time in pressing his tongue flat against your folds, dragging it up in a wide, messy stripe; the muscle only tenses when it bumps against your clit, his tongue flicking upwards to tease it.

you’re so reactive, even at the slightest things — you whimper, you squeeze your eyes shut, you squirm. you’re begging to be fucked, and jeno’s cock is strained tight against his jeans, but your taste is so addicting that he can’t help but dive back in. his tongue eases between your folds now, spreading them apart until they’re lewd and sticky with his saliva, and the nub of your clit has grown so pronounced now — so pert and lovely that he can’t help but purse his lips around it and suck with excess force.

“sunbae — f—fuck,” you mewl; you almost sound tearful. “f—feels so good…”

jeno wants to tell you how fucking good you taste, how beautiful the sounds you’re making are, but his mouth is too busy; his teeth rake down your cunt lightly, earning him a jerk of your hips, and he has to place pressure down on your thighs again to make sure you’re still enough for him to slip his tongue into your cunt.

he can tell even just by that how tight you’d be around him; your walls are warm around his tongue, and there’s a pressure against the muscle that tells him how good it’d feel for his cock to take its place. as if to simulate his desires, he presses his tongue deeper in, fucks you shallowly with its wetness until your whimpers become little sobs, broken and choked back. his thumb drags across your slit then settles against your clit, and he can feel the thrum of your pulse against the pad of his finger, beckoning him. he complies, easily, thumb tracing circles around the nub that start off slow, only for him to ramp up the pace alongside his tongue.

you’re easily at fault for that; the way you whine for him, call him sunbae, tell him how good it feels over and over — why wouldn’t he want more of you?

he’s not sure which of you really earns the sweet reward today; you cum on his tongue, your cunt trembling against his mouth and your fingers threaded into his hair, but he’s the one who comes out licking his lips like he’s had the best treat of his damn life.

come the middle of next week, jeno finds himself face to face with a test paper — one already clearly marked, with a number circled on the top-right corner. ninety. a stellar grade for anyone, and especially for you.

you know it, and you look absolutely triumphant; you’re practically shining as you perch on your little dining table, your perfectly manicured finger jabbing at the score in emphasis.

“flying colors, wouldn’t you say?”

“color me impressed,” jeno replies smoothly, a genuine smile of pride tugging at his lips; he turns the page over, scanning your responses. you still draw your parabolas a little on the small side, making them a bit difficult to discern, and you’ve still got the habit of not rounding your answers up, but this is tremendous work, and he’ll be the first to praise you for it. “your dad must be filled to the brim with joy now, right?”

“i haven’t told him yet. you were the first.”

“well, i’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

“proud enough to give me a reward?”

he looks down at you in feigned thoughtfulness. here you sit, back in your little tennis skirt, looking up at him with hopeful eyes under those long, curled lashes. for someone who spent the first half of this semester acting ostensibly nonchalant, you’d very easily shown your true colors soon after — not that he really minds. in fact, he’s taken a decided kind of liking to how eager and willing you’ve come to be.

“we’ve only just started our session, though,” he hums out, an idle thumb grazing his chin as he watches your expression turn from bright to cloudy, the beginnings of strategy darkening your gaze. it’s not like he wants to say no; he has no real intention to. but seeing you squirm in want makes him feel good about his decision to hold out a little longer — never mind the ache in his cock even then. “don’t we usually leave the rewards for a later time?”

“i was thinking — since it’s the start of a new lesson —”

“we wouldn’t want you falling behind from the start, would we?”

“i promise i won’t,” you pout. “i promise i’ll put in my best effort next time.”

“next time? sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re thinking to get off scot-free today…” jeno trails off, his hand falling to the nearest surface it can reach — which, logic seems to dictate, is your soft, milky thigh. he feels you tense under his palm, and he bites back a smile, keeping his expression level. “i just don’t know.”

your small hands grip at the front of his shirt, and he hears you, for the first time, doing something he’s always wanted to hear you do.

“please, sunbae?”

how could he say no to you? he hadn’t really planned on it, had only wanted to see you do this, but it’s still too much and beyond his expectation — your misty gaze, your quivering lip. it’s almost laughable that you don’t think he’d notice the way you shift yourself so that his hand, still warm against your thigh, slides up your skin, the hem of your skirt bunched up in the junction between his thumb and forefinger.

jeno chuckles — isn’t this exactly where and how he’s always wanted you? “how could you ask me like that and expect me to refuse, angel? in that case, i have no real choice but to dedicate all our time today to your reward.”

your breathing hitches — in anticipation, in desire, in excitement — as his hand continues its trail upward, deliberately now, fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties. his head dips down, rests into the crook of your neck, and he inhales the thick, sweet scent of your perfume, your shampoo, of you and all that he’ll take from you.

“just remember, you asked for this,” he murmurs against your skin. “so i’m going to take every bit of you until there’s nothing left for anyone else.”

you’re so willing, so ready even before he can get his full bearings; your hips are rising slightly off the table, and jeno feels like it’s you that’s telling him to move faster. he tugs down your panties, letting gravity take its course until they’re a tiny puddle of fabric on the floor, and he slots himself between your legs. like this, you have no choice but to spread, and you do so without hesitation, your knees locking against his sides as he pulls you in for a tight, hungry kiss. there’s that taste of you he loves, that clean, sweet buzz that draws him in, and his hands are bruisingly tight on your waist as he reclaims your lips.

you already look dazed when he pulls away, which is always cute, but a little unfair — jeno wants you to be aware still when he takes you, and damn, if he doesn’t want to take you right fucking now. he kisses you again, harder and more demanding, as if willing your attention back to him, while his hands explore you — run up your thighs, fingers brushing against the plush curve of your ass. it’s not enough, not by a long shot, and he’s pushing the waistline of your skirt up your stomach with his hands, letting his warmth transfer onto your skin; he chuckles as your stomach sucks inward at his touch, just as you let out a gasp against his lips.

and he wants desperately to hear that noise again; in fact, he wants to know what you sound like in every capacity. his mouth works down your neck, pleased to find that suckling wet and languid on a spot just above your collarbone has you writhing and whimpering. are you sensitive or touch-starved? whatever the reason, he wants to draw all of that out of you, his hands drawing back down to hook under your thighs. jeno drags you to the edge of the table, until your bare cunt is flush against the front of his jeans, and he lets you feel him — a brief tease of what’s to come.

“i’m s—so wet already,” you whisper, as if he doesn’t know — as if you know it’s exactly what he wants to hear anyway. “sunbae, please, i need you.”

“not that,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing your collarbone as he speaks. “not sunbae. jeno. call me jeno, angel.”

“jeno,” you exhale shakily, and it’s music to his ears — as if the last thing holding him back from you had shattered.

“that’s it — what a good girl,” he purrs, his hips rocking forward against your pussy before they retract, leaving just enough space for his hand to slip between. slender fingers trail down your folds, sticky and slick. “you are all wet for me, aren’t you? ready to take me deep inside?”

even the way you nod, a tiny movement of assent, drives him wild, yet a part of him still wants to test the limit of your patience, his middle finger stretching to circle your entrance.

“wouldn’t want to shock your tiny little pussy, though, would i? will you let me stretch you out first, kitten?”

“yes,” you mewl, sounding almost tearful. “anything— anything, please.”

jeno drinks in the long, drawn-out keen you set free when his digit sinks into you; he’s already felt your walls against his tongue, but a small part of him is still surprised at just how tight you are. that same part nags that he might not fit easily into you, but whatever that voice is is easily drowned out by a more assertive promise — he’ll make it fit.

“can’t tell you how much i’ve wanted to feel your pretty little hole around my cock,” he presses on, his finger pushing deeper in; he feels you tense a delicious kind of tightness, as if it’s almost too much for you. is it? “ever since that first day you came into the tutoring center, dressed up all cute — did you do that on purpose, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you admit, breathless; the syllable is lengthened into a weak moan as jeno pumps his finger into you, slow, deep strokes that tease your tacky walls open. “wanted — wanted to make a good impression…”

“and you did, didn’t you? kept looking so sweet for me, so pretty every single time — got me thinking about all the ways i wanted to have you. got me so fucking hard every time we’d meet — is that what you wanted?”

jeno doesn’t give you much room to respond, but he can make his own answers to appease himself anyway; he reclaims your lips, already eager for another taste of you, and you comply with the same amount of desire, your soft whimpers melting against his teeth. in the space of pseudo silence, wet, messy noises, he manages to tease another digit into you, and you cry out against his lips as it pushes in, joining the first in how deep it reaches. he absorbs that too, takes in every minute sound you make, relishes the way you pulse around his fingers. even without the noises, he can tell your pleasure’s heightening, with the way you clench around him, your hips rocking pitifully as you’re eager to rut against his palm.

“look at you now.” he’s selfish, but he doesn’t care — he wants to ruin you, and if the telltale squelch of your cunt as he fucks his fingers into it isn’t indication enough, then the way your mouth hangs open as he pulls away, letting his name fall freely from your lips, definitely is. “legs spread, all desperate to feel good for me. what a needy little kitten you are. this good enough for you, angel?”

you shake your head, only to squeal as he pulls you closer, his fingers shoving deeper into you; your hips are re-angled, allowing him to brush the pads of his digits against the rough, sweet spot, and he feels triumph bloom in his chest as you throw your head back, teary eyes squeezed shut.

“no, no, no,” you babble, and he can see the bob of your throat as you swallow hard, clutching at sense to make words. “want — need your cock, want to cum on your cock so badly, jeno — want you to fuck me, stretch me open, please —”

“greedy, aren’t you?” he murmurs, leaning in to nip at the spot he’d left reddened above your collarbone. “go on then — show me how much you want it. show me what a good girl you are, and cum on my fingers.”

“but—”

“come on, angel,” he urges above the squelching noises, increasing surely in volume. his fingers meet resistance when they spread apart inside you, but all it does is create a delicious friction that has you squirming in his hold. “don’t hold back. let me see you fall apart.”

and you do, so prettily, your eyes rolling back and your voice unrestrained. jeno’s fingers ride you through your orgasm, pumping deep and steady despite how slick you’ve gotten, your juices coating his hand and wrist. he watches the flush rise to your neck, stopping at your cheeks, watches the heaving of your chest, the shine of your skin from a thin sheen of sweat, and he doesn’t want to let you come down from this high, but his cock is aching — practically bursting from his jeans — and all he can do is make the silent vow that the next time you look like this, he’ll be balls deep in you.

“that’s my girl,” he coos gently, watching the tension slip from your shoulders; his free hand is at the small of your back quickly, easing you down as your torso falls back, and you’re laying on the table. “pretty little thing, aren’t you? cumming so sweetly for me.”

“jeno,” you groan out weakly, your tiny hand clasping around his wrist. “cock — i want your cock, please—”

“can’t wait?” he’s indecent for sounding amused, but even that does nothing to stay his arousal; how eager you are simply makes him want you all the more. “okay, angel — since you asked so nicely.”

a slight twinge of disappointment runs through him as he pulls his fingers out, but it’s quickly buried by the feeling he gets once he gives you a clear sweep of a once-over; how slutty you look, still half-dressed but already half-ruined, your thighs shaking in an effort to keep them open for him, the remnants of your last climax still leaking out of your hole. the sight of you has him so distracted that unbuttoning and unzipping his pants feels like a fever dream of an act; he barely notices what he’s doing until he’s already bare in front of you, and alertness has crawled halfway back into your consciousness as you push yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

“it’s so—” you have the decency to blush, though there’s a pleased look on your face that tells him you’re not really embarrassed. “i didn’t think you’d be this big.”

“does that worry you?”

“i’ve never had anyone… this big.” pride blooms in his chest — good, he thinks, because if he can’t be as memorable as your first, then he’ll take being the most in something as a prize. “i don’t think — will it fit?”

“does it matter?” he chuckles, and your blush deepens. “no matter what — you’ll take all of me in, won’t you?”

you chew on your bottom lip, as if considering your options, but to jeno, there’s really only one choice — the correct one, and you make it when you nod your head.

“it’ll feel good, though, you know,” he muses. his hand wrapped around his base, he lines himself up with you, the tip grazing against your folds. “even better than just now.”

with just a little more pressure, he has his shaft flush against you; his girth sits against your slit, the tip pressed against your clit, and he starts to rock his hips — into his fist, against your cunt. your hips quiver, and a shiver runs through you as your pleasure spikes again, but he can tell it isn’t enough. your bottom lip is back between your teeth, and your eyes are flitting between his face and his cock. jeno reaches out, eases your lip out from between your teeth, strokes it gently, almost tenderly.

“say it,” he commands in a soft, silky voice.

“fuck me, jeno,” you breathe out, barely missing a beat. “fuck me, fuck my pussy, please.”

and if you ask that desperately, he’ll waste no time; he draws his hips back, dragging his cock down until he’s aligned with your entrance. his eyes are trained on your face, even when he pushes in, so that he can take in your expression — the widening of your eyes as his tip breaches the first wave of resistance, the way your mouth falls agape as his fingers dig hard into your flesh. he’s never seen a prettier sight in his life.

“stretched you out already, but you’re still so fucking tight,” his voice is a soft, melodious croon, a stark contrast to the way he’s forcing past your tightness. “tight and wet, like a good girl.”

“so big,” you whimper, your fingers stretched far enough to tickle the front of his shirt. “can’t — can’t take it.”

“of course you can, angel.” jeno doesn’t give you the time to brace yourself fully before he’s rocking his hips in a little more sharply, his cock now halfway into you. your fingers curl into a little fist, immediately flying back to block the noise from your mouth. “ah ah. don’t get shy on me now; you’ve been so noisy for me all this time.”

but he doesn’t really mind the way you clap your palm over your mouth to muffle your high-pitched squeal as he thrusts in fully, the adjustment period after the last movement close to nothing; he’s too busy focusing on how good you feel around him, how warm and wet your insides are. this is heaven, easily, and jeno wants to stay here for as long as he can.

“god, you’re fucking tight,” he repeats, an appreciatory gaze running over where you’re joined. his thumb stretches over your folds, rubbing them — something of an apology, perhaps, although all it does is stimulate you more, and you shiver at the extra contact. “how deep is it, baby?”

“can feel you here,” you mumble out, your small hand pressing just above your pelvis. he feels the tightness multiply as you place pressure, even just for a moment. “your cock’s so much deeper than anyone else.”

your hand falls away, limp, as he draws his hips back; you inhale, long and deep, before letting it out as a broken moan when he pushes back in. it drives him crazy, to start off this slow, when all he wants is to find a pace that has you sobbing, but the resistance of your pussy against his length isn’t easy to ignore. jeno works you open, his jaw set and his grip tight against your frame, and it isn’t long before he’s picking up speed, the slap of his flesh against yours fueling him exponentially, mingling with your cries, steadily increasing in volume.

“that’s it. let everyone hear you,” he eggs on, his thumb now circling tight around your clit; your legs are quivering, threatening to close, but he keeps you steady, one arm wrapped around your thigh. his thrusts grow rougher, more deliberate, and when he looks up from where you’re joined back to your face, he sees your expression as a mixture of incredulity and ecstasy. a thin line of drool hangs from the corner of your mouth, your pretty pink lip gloss smeared, and fuck if he doesn’t want to make sure you look like this every single time he comes over. “let them know who’s fucking you good, angel.”

“j— jeno!” your voice hitches, lilts up as he presses in at a different, deeper angle, and he almost cums right then and there from the way your walls pulse around him. “your cock feels so good, fucking me just right— more, god, more—”

he complies without hesitation, gathering both your thighs and pushing them closer to your chest; you look even lewder like this, folded in half with your sopping cunt presented to him like it’s all his to take, and it is, isn’t it? there’s an increase in the intensity, the vigor in which he pumps his cock into you, and he knows he’s brushing repeatedly against your spot by the way you’re blubbering his name out in a way that suggests you sincerely think no one else in this building can hear you.

“that’s my girl,” he hums approvingly, though there’s a thickness in his voice that has him sounding a little more strained. “such a good girl, with your cunt all nice and sloppy for me. do you like it when i go this deep? does it feel good when i fuck you where no one else can?”

“yes!” you sob out, your hands crumpling the end of your skirt up into tight fists. “jeno, i— cum, i need to cum again, please—”

“i’ve got you, kitten,” his tone is reassuring, a stark contrast to the rigor of his hips. “don’t have to hang on for me, you know; always love seeing you fall apart.”

“m’close, so close —”

“let go, then,” he urges, his blunt nails digging into your flesh. “let me feel that sweet cunt cum on my cock.”

you comply without hesitation, though if you’d done it willingly, he can’t really tell; he has to pin your hips down to stop you from bucking up and causing him to slip out, and you writhe against him as you sob in ecstasy, your walls fluttering before they clench. stray tears leak from your eyes, squeezed shut, and jeno wants nothing more than to eat you up like this — broken, fucked out.

you’re not even fully down from your high when he feels it — that sudden wrenching in his gut that tells him he’s about to follow suit. with a low groan, he peels your thighs apart again, lets you watch him as he bullies straight into your leaking hole. your voice is a staccato, punctuating every deep, sharp thrust into you, and it’s exactly to that melody that he wants to get off.

“tell me where you want it, angel.” he doesn’t trust his voice, sharp and short as it is now. “should i mark your pretty face? your stomach?”

“want it against my pussy,” you whisper out, and jeno almost loses his mind as he watches you spread your folds apart with your forefinger and middle finger, inviting him. “make a mess of it, sunbae.”

he’s barely able to pull out before he’s spilling against you; he ruts against your slit, coating your folds and the insides of your thighs in thick, creamy white. you hold your legs apart for as long as you can until they start to tremble, and he catches them and gently eases them down.

when you sit up to kiss him, you’re still demanding; he feels your hips rock closer, your sticky cunt pressing against the underside of his cock.

“not enough,” you murmur against his lips, and jeno chuckles as you bind your hands around his neck.

“don’t worry, kitten,” he hums back. “we’ve got all afternoon.”

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sinsofsummers · 1 month

Text

cupcake

1.9k | teacher!logan x fem!student!reader

(gif not mine!!)

summary: logan eats you for lunch. warnings: porn! teacher!logan and student!reader, so a bit of a taboo age gap, but an established situationship. oral (f receiving), desperate logan—like he is A LEWSER, p in v, creampie because he doesn’t last long (because he’s a whore), logan is a slut for ur releases mixed together, sub!logan tbh, let me know if i miss any! note: wow. sorry. this was also supposed to be a night of writing a longer fic. but i think this is my brand! short and sweet and salacious little things! enjoy, my loves! also i'm tagging @cavillscurls , @bren-lee-bear0404 , @ieatgoldfishy and @hughverine for this one cause...it just seemed like u guys were extra eager for it hehehe!

You can sense him behind you as you make your way down the corridor, heading for your room. You’ve just gotten out of an exam, and as the relaxation-lover you are, you’re thinking of one thing and one thing only—your bed, and curling up in it.

But just like Logan can sense you at all times, you’re no stranger to the feeling of being under his watchful gaze. It’s a heady feeling, and even though you can’t see him, you know that if you turn around he’ll be just a few paces behind you.

And maybe you shouldn’t have gotten under your history teacher in an attempt to get over him, but by now it’s far too late. Logan has all but ruined everyone for you, anyway, a fact that you’re sure he would put on a billboard if you’d let him.

You put your head down and pretend to ignore the sound of his footsteps getting faster.

You smirk. Thankfully the hallway is empty, or you’d have to answer for why your history teacher is chasing you down.

He’s not exactly discreet; or at least, not when you’re in the same room as him. Whether it’s his intense brown eyes staring you down like a challenge, or his hands somehow finding their way to your shoulders, or your hands, trying to look innocent enough…you’re pretty sure Logan’s made it obvious.

“Hey.”

There he is.

You pause, about to turn the corner, but he swings a hand around your arm and makes you whirl around to face him. His eyes are hard, but there’s a spark of mischief that has you flashing a tight-lipped smirk back in his face, blinking slowly.

“Yes, Professor?” you cross your arms, holding the textbooks in your hands to your chest. “Did I miss an assignment?”

Logan’s mouth twitches into an amused grin, and he tilts his head. “C’mere,” he says gently, and tugs you toward the nearest classroom—his own.

You’ve had your fair share of classes here, but you blush as he closes the door and sidles up behind you, his broad, heavy chest pressing against your back.

“Where’ve you been, sugar?” His voice is smooth, low, and reeks of sex. You know exactly why you’re here.

Your throat goes dry, but you swallow and turn around, taking a step back. With a wink, you keep your hands clutched to your textbook. “I’ve been working.”

You’re goading him. “If you hadn’t noticed, I still need to study for my exams,” you say nonchalantly, and watch as he confidently strides forward, following you up to the front of the room.

In no time at all, his desk hits the backs of your thighs, stopping you from your retreat. Logan’s only a step away from you and capitalizes on it. You’ve got no room to squirm away; he towers over you and puts his hands on his desk, trapping you there.

“Time for a break, I think,” he hums, nipping at your jaw when you chuckle and turn away from his attempt to kiss you. “You’ve been working that brain so hard,” he continues, tugging the textbook out of your hands and tossing it to the floor with a heavy thud. “I’ve been waiting for you all day.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re still pleased at the admission. You take it upon yourself to hop up on the desk, though it doesn’t give you much more leverage; he’s still got the upper…everything. “Oh, you have?”

Logan lifts a hand to cup your jaw and neck, bringing your face closer to him. His hand is rough but the guidance of his touch is gentle, and he rests his forehead against yours. His next words are a whisper. “I have,” he nods. “You look so sweet, sugar. Can’t you just take a break?”

Your stomach turns in a familiar knot, and your thighs tense. It’s not that you haven’t fooled around on his desk before. But you really do have exams to study for.

“I know,” you sigh, turning to press a series of kisses to his beard. “I know, I want to be done, too. But I—”

“Then be done,” he whispers, his other hand landing on your thigh. “You’ll pass all your exams, bub, you know you will. Such a smart girl,” he says as his hand creeps toward the inside of your leg. “Why don’t you let me do something for you, smart girl?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek, but it does nothing to hide your smile. “Logan,” you whine, trying your best to sound exasperated. “I can’t just drop my panties for you everytime you want.”

His hand has wandered to the waistline of your shorts; an elastic band is all that bars him from your thin panties.

“Of course,” he says, and then his eyes dart down to the crux of your legs as he hooks a finger in your waistband, tugging it away from your body. “But you sure do leave them sopping wet, don’t you?” He cocks an eyebrow at you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Well, if they weren’t before, they are now.

Your jaw drops open an inch, and for a moment you don’t know what to say.

Another finger hooks into your waistband, and he swipes his fingertips across your lower stomach, not daring to go any further until you give him the go ahead. “Please, sugar,” he whispers, and his voice shakes as he tilts your head up, holding his lips just an inch from your own.

“I’ll be quick. I won’t even tease, baby,” he says, his hot breath fanning over your face, that delicious hint of tobacco making you flutter your eyes closed.

“Logan…” you try again, but he ducks his head into your neck and whimpers. Whimpers.

“I’ll be good and quick, bub,” he says again. “Just let me taste you. I won’t ask for anything else, I swear.”

“Yeah right,” you say breathlessly, your composure slipping. “You always want more.”

“Can’t help it,” he breathes heavily, and his hand clenches your shorts in a fist. “M’gonna go insane if I can’t taste you, cupcake.”

You’ve never seen him this desperate, this much of a loser for your pussy, that you choke out a sigh and push his hand down your stomach. His eyes go wide and his mouth stutters as his fingers reach your mound, shoulders shuddering at the velvety smooth touch of your core.

“Fine,” you say quietly, a smile growing on your face. “But just for a minute.”

“Minute’s all I need, sugar.” Logan doesn’t waste his time, molding his lips to yours with a deep groan that borders on the side of a growl, something that ignites a fire in your gut.

In a flash, he’s practically torn your shorts from your body and he’s getting on his knees, eyes flitting up to yours as he leans into your core. The flush of cool air on your lower half is almost relieving.

He pauses, closing his eyes right as he’s about to dive in. And he sucks in a breath through his nose, inhaling the scent of your arousal. It’s like a fucking ritual for him. Like a monk bent to pray, he worships the source of your sweetness.

You shake your head, carding your fingers through his hair. “You’re such a freak,” you breathe, but the humor leaves your voice as he darts his tongue out to flick your clit.

And with your hands in his hair, he growls into your pussy and laps at it like a starving man, swirling circles around your clit and wasting no time before his fingers are teasing your entrance.

“God,” you gasp, squeezing your thighs around his head.

He lifts his head, and you wish you could take a picture of how fucking desperate he looks, with his beard already glistening with your wetness and his eyes wide as a puppy’s. “Not God,” he huffs, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “Just me, bub.”

“Shut the fuck up and make me come,” you sigh, tilting your head back and letting out a soft giggle. “Your minute’s almost up.”

Of course, you don’t have any plans on cutting him off. Once he gets his tongue on your core, you won’t be satisfied until he’s filling you to the brim.

He moans with every drop that slips out of you and lands on his tongue, which only makes your pussy weep more for him. “Come on, baby,” he says into you, his fingers slipping inside you and stretching you deliciously over his thick digits. “Come on daddy’s face.”

He has the gall to ask you to call him daddy? When he just spent the last ten minutes begging to get on his knees for you?

You almost laugh, but then his fingers curl inside you. He’s hitting that one spongy spot that has you arching your back, your eyes rolling back and your hand pressing down on his head, holding him to your core as you ride out your release. “Fuck, Logan,” you whine, rolling your hips into his mouth to make the ecstasy last longer.

He pulls away from you, and you can’t even lift your head before you hear the clink of his belt hitting the floor. His face comes into view, and then his tip is sliding against your slit, throwing you into a frenzy as your legs shake at the sensitivity.

“I’m sorry, sugar,” he says, voice hoarse as he circles your clit with his angry, leaking tip. “I’m close already, I just wanna…”

“You wanna fill me up,” you finish breathlessly, head resting against his desk.

“Yes,” he whimpers, and you swear you could come again at the sound of it. “Please, cupcake.”

You nod, a string of yes please falling from your lips. And not a moment later, he’s shoving himself inside, and suddenly you realize how empty you’d felt all day before this moment, before his thick cock was making room for itself in your body.

He doesn’t look like he’ll last long enough to give you another orgasm, but you don’t really care; he looks so fucking pretty like this that it’ll be enough to fuel an entire night of play when you’re on your own.

With a guttural groan and a few uneven thrusts, Logan bursts. The swing sound of metal claws unsheathing themselves is like a drug as he empties himself inside of you. “I’m sorry, cupcake,” he shudders, laying himself over you on the desk. “M’sorry I couldn’t—”

“It’s okay,” you wrap an arm around his shoulders, savoring the feeling of his dick still pulsing inside you. “I like it when you’re so…”

You trail off. Nothing can quite describe the essence of Logan when he’s begging to eat you out. But there’s something so undeniably filthy about someone like Logan—your rugged, perfect Professor Logan—shedding his grumpy exterior for a taste of you.

The two of you lay there for a few more moments before he straightens, pulling you to a sitting position. He slowly pulls out, catching his seed and pushing it gently back inside you as best he can.

You hum at the sight, and finally stand, pulling your wrecked shorts back onto your hips. “How are you gonna explain that?” You point at the small puddle of your releases, mixed together.

His hair is still messy, his fingers still shining with your arousal, but he winks. Claws retracted, he swipes a finger through the mess and puts it to his lips, drinking down the result of your pleasure.

“Frosting,” he grins, and the return of the cocksure professor you know so well has returned. He presses a kiss to your temple and whispers in your ear. “From the sweetest of cupcakes.”

#logan howlett x reader smut #logan howlett x reader #logan smut #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut #wolverine imagine #logan xmen #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x fem!reader #deadpool and wolverine

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slvttyplum · 3 months

Text

sneaking around and doing shit you weren't supposed to be doing was one of the things you were good at; in fact, you were an expert at it. you knew you weren't supposed to be fucking him, but there you were, spread out in all your glory like a meal on a plate, ready to be devoured.

your friends had a sixth sense; every person you dated, they were right about, and you dated a lot of people. when it came to nanami, they couldn't put a finger on why they didn't like him or what it was that threw them off, but they were going to warn and nag you until you stopped talking to him, and that was never, in a million years, going to happen.

so what'd you do? you kept talking to him, and talking didn't last for long. he was a sweet talker; he knew his way around things and knew how to get what he wanted. in this exact moment, what he wanted was you, and he was going to stop at nothing to get you.

neither of y'all was planning on having sex; sex is just one of those things that happen unless there's a clear boundary that it wasn't going to happen, but with two glasses of wine and him eyeing you down like he hadn't eaten in weeks, he had you in bed so fast that when you took another blink, it was all over.

what you thought was a one-time thing with this sexy man turned into an everyday thing. he couldn't keep his hands off of you, and you couldn't keep your pussy off his face. it was a win-win situation for the both of you. the more you kept going behind your friends and fucking him, the more they got suspicious if you actually stopped talking to him.

the suspicion didn't start until you started bailing on plans and leaving places early just so nanami could flip you on your back and spread you out like scissors so he could fuck you so good you didn't even want to go home.

theres no way you could ever leave him alone after he fucked you so many times you lost count, or at least that's what you tried to tell yourself until you actually started tracking and got to forty. this man fucked you senseless forty fucking times.

the way he whispered sweet things into your ears while he was inside of you made everything worse. his soft voice sliding into your ears as his hands were roaming and cupping over your breast, and his dick was buried deep inside of you, softly pressing on your sweet spot, his lips kissing over your jaw as he slams into you, putting in every inch bit by bit.

whether this was a phenomenon or things just playing out in your head, but… everything felt ten times better when you knew you weren't supposed to be doing it. doing something in secret makes you feel good. doing him especially felt good.

nanami knew about your little problem and couldn't understand why they would think such things, but he made sure to turn the situation around to his advantage so you weren't sneaking around and leaving events early in vein.

making sure to start off slow, kissing down your neck and stopping right at your stomach before rubbing all over you, making sure you're comfortable before he makes you take him. that's all nanami was concerned with, not with what was going on around the both of you, his job, or your friends, the only thing he was worried about was you and making you feel good, even if that meant having to sneak around for you.

"i don't want you to be this person just so you can sneak around with me." a put on your lips as you look down at your hands, nanami's coming up to cup your cheek, making you look at him, those big eyes that he fell in love with looking back at him.

"i'll be whatever you want me to be, baby." that's when you knew that he wasn't like those exes who put you through hell; he was much more than that. he cared about you, and it was evident not only through his words but also through his actions.

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skiiyoomin · 2 months

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Can you make Kenma,Oikawa, Hinata, Sugawara, Nishinoya, Akaashi with a sub! Girlfriend that has a personality that remembers a Golden Retriever?? (Can it be NSFW?)

ღHq boys with a sub!golden retriever gf

ʚft: Kenma, Oikawa, Hinata, Suga, Nishinoya, Akaashi

ʚCont: SMUT CONTENT, fem!reader, fingering, slight corruption kink, mirror sex, use of good girl, riding, oral sex

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a/n i think i outdid myself with this one 😁

Kenma

There is a clear difference between your personalities. He´s passive and calm whereas you´re always a bundle of energy. Many joke you have all the energy Kenma doesn't. And that fact proves right in moments like these.

He was slumped on the couch when you skipped into the living room. Your eyes darted to his hands holding the controller. His long fingers were moving across the buttons with a speed only a chronic video game player had. A flash of thoughts that were anything but holy crossed your mind. They were pushed back almost immediately.

They were hard to ignore now that those same fingers were pumping up into your dripping cunt. Your hips moved on their own, rolling instinctively to find the same spot that had your head throwing back with whiny moans. The clutch your fisted hands had on his shirt tightened when you bounced on his fingers, riding them like you would with his cock. "ken mmgh fuck m´ tired" He wasn´t sure if his actions were out of sympathy or torture, but his free hand gripped your hip to stop their movement. His other hand, drenched in your juices, moved upwards at a fast pace, curling inwards to hit the plushness of your g-spot. "tired? already? well, I suppose I´ll help" Though he didn´t seem to mind with how hard he was in that moment, his erection begging to be freed from its restraints. The fast pace of his fingers brought your orgasm closer than you thought. Your mind blanked, body shaking as your walls clamped down on his fingers, imprisoning them inside your warmth.

His lips on your face landed you back from cloud 9. "such a good girl, wanna keep doing a good job for me and make me feel good?" He murmurs against your skin, to which you nod without hesitation.

Oikawa

Oikawa absolutely adoresss you. You´re his little puppy, his sweet innocent baby girl. He dies and revives every single time your doe eyes stare up at him with those bright irises. They shoot straight to his heart, tightening in his chest to the point where his breath is lost in the air. He doesn´t know what he´d do without his pretty girl. He could spend countless hours naming all the things he loves about you. But he was certain that what he loves most, is your willingness to please him. Like a puppy does with its owner.

Deep down, it isn´t just for the simple innocent reasons one may imagine. Your willingness to please applies to the bedroom too. And there was nothing that turns him on more than to have you on all fours, ramming his cock into your abused hole for hours on end.

Tears were falling down your pretty eyes, your back setting into a mean arch the longer you stayed in that position. Even then, your breathy shaky voice asked "m´ i making you feel good?" Call it a possible corruption kink, but seeing your head lifting to meet his gaze from the back with those teary doe eyes, your lips pouty as you concern yourself more over his pleasure than your own, god that just makes his dick harder than ever.

If anything, it keeps his cock pounding into you relentlessly, forcing orgasm after orgasm from you, all just to see you with that same look in your eyes. Yeah, he definitely has a corruption kink.

Hinata

You´re both bundles of sunshine. Your relationship is as radiant as the sun, a constant source of joy in each others lives. You´re both the same golden retriever energy and anyone can see that from a 20 mile radius. In terms of dominance, well, it´s hard to say. Or at least, that´s how it is for anyone outside the relationship. However between you two? It´s pretty clear.

The sight in front of you is sinful really. No porno you had ever watched was as erotic as this. Hinata is sitting on the edge of the bed with you sitting snuggly on his lap, your back pressed against his toned chest. You´re convinced you´d have bruises on your hips the next morning from how tight he was gripping them. Though your focus in that moment is on the dirty view from the mirror of your tight hole getting stretched open by his thick cock. While Hinata is setting the pace and keeping you balanced, you´re tasked to hold your legs wide open with your hands under your knees, giving you the perfect view of his cock connecting with your cunt.

As much as you wanted to throw your head back on his shoulder from the painful pleasure, you couldn´t look away from the sight. The way your puffy lips parted in an accomodating motion for his dick to pound up into you relentlessly is an addicting sight you can´t get enough of. The fast pace is dizzying along with the view of his fluids mixing with yours and coating his cock like a second skin. His pace sped up even more, though you hadn´t thought that was possible, when your impending orgasm resulted in the clenching of your gummy walls. "hold on f´me sweet girl, can you do that?" He asks sweetly into your ear despite the vicious pace of his tip kissing your cervix. "mhmm" Is all you can manage to say. "good girl"

Sugawara

Suga is often seen as the sweet calm boyfriend whereas you´re the energetic girlfriend whose always bouncing around with energy. It´s a balance that makes the relationship work very well. But what nobody expects is the 180 Suga does in bed.

A foot is balanced on his shoulder, his hands wrapped around the plushness of the back of your thighs. Suga loves this more than anything else. When your body goes limp from the pleasure, reducing all that energetic behaviour that you had before to nothing. You never resist him, no, instead you encourage him to keep going. To keep stretching your body into positions you didn´t think were possible. To keep your walls continuously stroking his cock, pulling countless orgasms out of you until you had nothing left to give. And even then, you keep your legs spread wide open like the good little thing that you are.

He groans into your ear "fuck. You like that? like how good my cock is making you feel?" He growls into your ear. One hand moves to rub your swollen clit, intensifying the pleasure. The result of your moans urged his ruthless pace to quicken. He chuckles breathlessly. "can´t even speak. am I fucking my baby dumb? Is that it?" The mocking tone of his voice was far more arousing than you thought and he knew it. How could he not when your walls were clenching so tightly around his aching member?

"wanna loosen up for me baby girl? I can´t make you cum if you´re squeezin so tight" He smirks "Yeaah that´s it, good fucking girl" He says in that low raspy voice you love so much. You´re in for a looong night.

Nishinoya

You´re both equally energetic. His energy rubs off on you and yours rubs off on him. You two together is utter chaos in the best way possible. Though when it comes to dominance, Noya is always sure to prove he´s the dominant one. Not like you mind anyway.

It´s movie night and of course, one thing leads to another. Now you´re on Noyas lap with his cock fucking up into you. If this isn´t heaven, Noya wasn´t sure what is. You´re always so eager to take him, to be fucked into submission. He groans lowly when you squeeze particularly hard. His eyes trail from your pussy to the swell of your breasts that bounce every time he thrusts up into you, his grip on your hips controlling the pace. The sight is so enticing, so breath taking that he can´t resist getting a taste. His mouth latches onto oneperky nipple while his fingers play with the other, giving them equal attention.

"aaah ngh noya" You moan, the sounds like music to his ears. His mouth latches off your breasts with a pop. "hmm? is my baby girl feeling good?" You whine, trying to speed up the pace. His gaze darkens with a primal lust. His feet plant on the floor and with a sudden boost of energy, he fucks your hole with a roughness he had never used before. He has no time to worry if he´s being too rough, becuase you´re instantly arching your back into a mean curve and throwing your head back. It´s overwhelming, the intense pleasure, the throbbing of your cunt the more he keeps his cock inside you.

A loud smack resonantes across the room, a gasp following it afterwards. The sting from his slap on your ass strangely adds to the pleasure, making your cunt throb more. He seems to sense this as well because he does it again and again. By the end of that night, the skin of your ass was a painful tomato red. Though you can´t stay mad at him when he fucks you so good.

Akaashi

Akaashi seems to attract the most energetic people ever. First it was Bokuto, now it´s you. He doesn´t complain one bit though. He adores you so much and makes you feel so loved too. He especially loves showing his love for you through intimate acts. It´s too tempting for him after all. When you´re always so greedy to please him and make him happy. Or especially when you´re so submissive for him. You trust him blindly and know he takes good care of you and nothing can ever make him more turned on than that.

Like now, he´s laying on his stomach on the bed. The thickness of your thighs are wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to your aching core. This was the thing he loves most. Worshipping your body over and over like you´re a goddess and he´s your most faithful worshipper. A shiver crawls down your spine when his warm breath tickles your bare skin, coming in contact with your heat. You gasp when his warm tongue slips out and licks along your slit until it hooks on your clit. Akaashi is a patient man, but even his own patience wears thin under the temptation of ravishing you whole.

He wastes no time in wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking the bundle gently while slipping a finger inside. One finger turns into two, then three. Soon enough his fingers are thrusting into you while he continues to busy his mouth with your clit. It´s not long before your body shakes from the force of a mind blowing orgasm.

He doesn´t wait a single second. Your legs are forced to spread open, giving him space to slip his tongue into your sensitive hole. You whine and squirm from the overstimulation. "aaah kashi" Said man lifts his head up, your juices smeared all over his chin and lips. They press wet kisses to your inner thighs while looking up at your flushed face. "you know the safe word, don´t you darling?" You nod meekly under his intense gaze. He smirks "good" Is all he says before going back to fucking your throbbing hole like a starved man having his last meal on earth.

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chaconnehoonie · 3 months

Text

Wet- L.HS

☼ Lee Heeseung x Fem Reader

Synopsis- As temperatures rise, so does Heeseung’s dick.

WC: 4k+

Warnings: smut, one(1) food play-ish scene, water gun fight, cursing, nothing too extreme it’s just pwp

Smut warnings: Verbal and physical teasing, kissing, oral(f), unprotected sex, creampies, voyeurism and they (kinda) get caught, pool/outdoor sex

This is fiction and the scenarios are completely fake and from my brain, none of the characters are accurate in real life, MDNI!

A/N: This was originally supposed to be written for Sunghoon but I can’t get over that picture of Heeseung so I changed my mind. Enjoy!

You’re so hot

The summer sun warms the exposed areas of skin, but your water soaked shirt keeps you cool in the one hundred degree weather. God damn the sun and its harsh rays—cursing the land with heat waves and rising temperatures that force you and your friends to find ways to cool off.

Heeseung can’t help but stare.

Even as he feels a stream of water hit the back of his head, he can’t keep his eyes off of you. Especially when Jake takes aim and pulls the trigger of his water gun to shoot straight at the center of your chest. God bless the sun.

“Alright, pervert! You got me.” You run a hand through your wet hair, laughing to yourself as you make your way towards your friends and knock water guns with Sunoo as a small celebration.

Jake shoots you one last time, whining about how unfair you play. “Seriously, how did you even get back there? I swear I checked thrice! I want to switch teams!” You poke the muscle of bicep that’s outlined by his own soaking wet shirt, teasing him for his terrible skills at his own game.

“Maybe you should’ve checked better.” With a click of your tongue you prance towards the pool, placing a palm upon the hot pavement to determine the heat. Heeseung watches as you stand up and pull your shirt off of yourself, back arching and neck rolling back as you peel the sticking fabric off of your body to reveal your bikini.

He admires the way you swiftly throw your shirt to the side, grabbing your beach towel and placing it next to the pool to sit on. Plopping yourself onto it, you dip your freshly painted toes into the water and splash them around.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Jay startles Heeseung from his trance, snapping his head to see the younger is now the only person standing next to him, a quirked eyebrow following his question. “I can’t.”

Heeseung replies simply, turning back just in time to notice Sunghoon handing you a small ice cream cone. He’s unable to focus for long as his attention is caught by Sunoo loudly laughing from the pool, where Jake is swimming around with an open mouth, begging Sunghoon to at least attempt to throw his own cone into his mouth from where he stands next to you.

“I don’t think Sunghoon would like that.” Heeseung sighs, shaking his head and deciding his own fate is to watch you from afar. To admire you from a distance.

But Jay wouldn’t let that happen. He doesn’t call himself “Heeseung’s number one wing man” for no reason, which is why he encourages his friend to go after you. Even if Sunghoon seems to be the only guy in your field of vision.

Of course, you’re just friends. At least that’s what you both claim. Heeseung doesn’t believe it though, in fact, he believes you two have been keeping it on the low. He’s created a whole fantasy relationship between his two friends— a fantasy that he isn’t a part of.

“Your first problem is not Sunghoon.” Jay brings up the topic once they’ve made their way into the cool house, alone. “The problem is you thinking there’s something going on between them.” Heeseung scoffs, taking a beer from Jay then turning his head to look at you through the window.

Your ice cream cone is melting in the hot sun, creamy liquid running through your fingers and down your forearm and Heeseung shivers. He’s always known he has a strong imagination, but with the visual stimulation right there; the suggestively colored desert leaving trails of itself down your arm, he can only imagine how his is own cream would adorn your body.

“Are you even listening?” Jay smacks his friend’s head, snapping him out of his scandalous fantasy. “You need to make a move. And I promise you Sunghoon won’t care. Sure, he’s a little protective but he’s your best friend too—he knows what’s best for both of you.”

Heeseung only pays attention to the first half of Jay’s rant, falling back into a trance as you finally lick a long stripe up your forearm, swapping your ice cream cone to the other hand to suck on your messy fingers. He only looks away when Sunghoon grabs your wrist and forces your fingers further down your throat and you gag for a second, then bring your ice cream and spit covered hand to the back of Sunghoon’s head, pushing him into the pool with Jake and Sunoo.

“You’re so right.” Heeseung’s voice is barely audible to Jay. “What-”before Jay can even question him, the older is patting him on the back and muttering a quick thanks you’re the best and rushing outside. Jay stands there for a second, sighs, then quickly entertains himself with an unopened bottle of vodka. He’ll pay Sunghoon back later.

You move your attention from the pool to the house just in time to see Heeseung sitting down next to you. You note that he looks nervous, maybe even shy, but you don’t say anything to humiliate him. Yet.

“Hi, Hee. What’s up?” You chirp out before bringing what’s left of your ice cream to your lips, licking a sensual stripe along the side. You don’t break eye contact with Heeseung as you twist the cone between your fingers, coating the entire expanse with your tongue.

Heeseung gulps, adam’s apple bobbing as he watches a drop of melted cream land on your chest, then can’t help but follow it with his eyes as it glides down your skin over your right breast, then between your breasts, and finally landing somewhere in the covered area of your bikini top.

As if he wasn’t just ogling your body, he looks back up to see you staring at him in amusement, and finally answers your question. “Nothing.”

You nod, smirking to yourself and quickly glancing towards all four of your friends now in the pool. “Nothing, huh?” You repeat and he nods eagerly.

“So what about that?” Your gaze drops to his lap, and only then does he realize how hard he’s gotten over this short interaction. “That seems pretty up to me.” You tease, letting out a giggle before abruptly standing up and stretching out the hand currently holding your ice cream.

Heeseung grabs the cone, confused but so love-struck that he’s barely processing anything at the moment. You push his hand closer to his mouth, watching as drops land onto the crotch of his swim trunks and he once again follows your gaze.

Grabbing his cheek with one hand and pushing the ice cream past his lips with the other, you smile widely at him. “Finish for me, yeah?”

.☼.

If yesterday really happened, then Heeseung is in a slight dilemma. After arriving home last night, he did finish for you. At least, he hopes that’s what you meant by finish. Perhaps you really did mean the yummy treat but he knows you. He knows your double meanings and your teasing jokes.

But this makes his situation all the worse. To anyone else, these interactions would have confirmed your requited feelings for Heeseung, but it’s you. You’re so confusing.

With the way you’re so teasing with everyone, and the way you show affection in questionable manners. Even the way you openly treat all and any of your friends as if they’re your boyfriend.

Heeseung remembers when Sunoo complimented the scent of your lip gloss, so in return you kissed him for a solid five seconds, stating that you “just wanted him to taste it”. Yeah, sure.

Or the time Jake wanted you to clean up his eyebrows for him, which resulted in you sitting in his lap for fifteen stiff minutes applying your entire skin care routine on him.

Whatever you have going on in your head, it confuses Heeseung. Which is why he decided he’s finally going to man up and ask you on a date at your daily pool hang out.

At least, he’s going to try to. Hopefully if you’re not wearing his favorite red bikini. Hopefully if you somehow magically forgot the events of yesterday. Hopefully if he just grows some balls and lets his feelings free for the first time in years. Probably not.

.☼.

It’s safe to say, you did not forget the events of yesterday, you’re definitely wearing Heeseung’s favorite red bikini, and he has not at all grown any balls to even make eye contact with you yet.

He’s been here for an hour. One whole agonizing hour of watching you climb onto Jake’s shoulders and wrestle Sunghoon who is on Sunoo’s shoulders. Thankfully, Sunoo has thighs of steel and is able to keep Sunghoon steady while you push and pull all in an attempt to knock him over.

Heeseung’s jaw clenches and his eyes don’t leave your hands— your hands that are currently touching up every part of Sunghoon’s body. He contemplates leaving now and skipping out on the guy’s night he and his friends hold biweekly.

Your fingers grip Sunghoon’s biceps before making their way to his chest, nails scratching their way down his ridged stomach, letting out frustrated groans as you poke and poke at Sunghoon’s body.

Oh, how Heeseung wishes it was his body you were touching. He can’t take it anymore, standing up quickly and pushing his lawn chair back, where it hits the floor with a loud crash before making his way into the house just like he did yesterday.

The crash distracts you and Sunghoon takes this as an advantage as he swiftly loosens your harsh grip on Jake’s shoulders and pushes you down into the water.

From outside of the pool, Jay sighs to himself before following Heeseung back inside, finding him snooping through Sunghoon’s home bar.

“She’s not going to fuck you if you’re not sober, you know.” Heeseung jumps at the sound of Jay’s voice, almost dropping one of the expensive bottles of alcohol.

He shrugs and continues snooping. “Who said anything about fucking?” His reply is nonchalant but his best friend can see right through his act. “Your eyes say everything I need to know.” Jay laughs to himself but Heeseung doesn’t find it funny.

“Whatever. She’s not into me like that anyways.” Heeseung speaks like he’s trying to convince himself, but Jay can hear the hopeful tone in his voice. “Trust me. She was eye fucking you earlier when you weren’t looking.”

Jay barely gets the sentence out before Heeseung is visibly perking up. “Really?!” His face is bright and his eyes are glossy and wide. “Relax, man. Don’t pop a boner in front of me.” Jay teases his friend and Heeseung rolls his eyes in embarrassment, because he definitely would grow stiff at just the mention of your name.

Jay heads back towards the sliding door but turns back to Heeseung before he opens it. “By the way, Hoon invited her to stay the night with us also.” He smiles to himself before continuing his sentence. “So please try to keep it down if you do happen to make it past first base.” With that, he makes his way back to the pool and leaves Heeseung with a heavy problem in his swim trunks.

.☼.

Heeseung opens his eyes to the sound of obnoxious snoring echoing throughout Sunghoon’s living room. He’s not sure how long he’s been asleep but by the looks of it, everyone else seems to have knocked out by now too. Closing his eyes, he decides to try to fall back asleep. Until he’s startled awake-

“Heeseung.”

Shooting his eyes back open, he sits up from his place on the couch and looks around the dark room. With his eyes adjusting to the lack of light, he can only barely make out your figure kneeling next to him on the floor. “What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers a little too loudly and you stand up, a palm covering his mouth swiftly as you take place onto the couch next to him.

Heeseung is a big man, meaning he already takes up most of the space, leaving you only a small sliver of cushion to sit on. So, you climb up onto his lap to get comfortable— because of course you would. Stiffening up from under you, he makes eye contact with you the best he can with the dim lighting, only the moonlight peeking through the curtains.

“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper, slowly taking your hand off of his mouth and trailing it down his chest and stomach, finally resting it at his side. Your thumb swipes comfortably there, almost as if you’re reassuring him, letting him know that this is real. “And I’m bored.” You lean in closer to him, your hand now coming up to his chest and pushing him to lay flat underneath you, his head landing softly on the armrest of the couch.

He gulps, big doe eyes looking up at you almost innocently. But you know that’s not the case. You’ve seen the way he watches you when he thinks you’re not looking. Seeing him drool over you is one thing but seeing him think he’s being slick with it? It, makes you way more aroused than you’d like to admit.

However, it’s taken too long for him to act on his desires, so you decide to do it for him. “Wanna help me?” Your voice is sultry and low, and Heeseung’s tummy feels warm as it stirs with excitement when he nods. Leaning down slowly, you stop as soon as the tip of your nose brushes Heeseung’s. Nodding your head slightly, you rub your nose against his almost domestically, before leaning in and lightly pressing your lips to his.

The kiss doesn’t last long, as you’re quick to pull away and smile. But Heeseung isn’t pleased yet, instead cupping the back of your head with his hand and pulling your face back towards his. Your lips smash together almost painfully, but you’re distracted quickly as his tongue immediately pushes its way into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, strong as it glides against yours in a teasing manner.

You catch his bottom lip between yours, sucking on it for a second before biting it softly and pulling away, watching as it bounces back now glossy and red. Heeseung expects more, but to his surprise, you just jump off of his lap and quietly walk to the door that leads outside.

Looking back, you watch his silhouette as he runs a hand through his hair and sits up again. You turn back to unlock the door, already taking your shirt off to expose your bare torso before turning to him one last time. “You coming?”

.☼.

If anyone had told Heeseung two days ago that he would be not only skinny dipping at 2am with you—but shoving his tongue down your throat as well, he wouldn’t believe it.

But, lo and behold, he currently has your back pressed to the edge of the pool with your legs wrapped around his naked waist, lips locked and swollen.

It all happened in a rush, between you stripping to nothing in front of him to him following your lead and ending up intertwined, he suddenly finds himself in a dream-like state.

Was this really happening? The girl he’s been craving for years is finally giving him a chance? Heeseung feels like happiest man on earth right now, and judging by the little moans you let out every now and then, he thinks you may feel the same.

“Heeseung.” You practically whimper as he drags his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking at your warm skin. His lips kiss down your chest softly, landing on one of your hard nipples. He pecks it so so softly, almost afraid of hurting you, but you want it to hurt. Grabbing the back of his head and pushing your chest forward, you encourage him to take your nipple into his mouth and he easily gets the hint.

He’s barely done anything and you’re already shaking in his arms, gripping his biceps and throwing your head back with a loud moan. “Heeseung- I need you to fuck me.”

He stops immediately, then slowly detaches his mouth from your nipple and looks up at you. “Yeah? Want me to fuck this pretty pussy?” He thrusts his hips up, his movements slowed by the water but his cock still manages to brush against your folds. You bite your lip, nodding your head eagerly and Heeseung smiles. “Let me get a taste of it first.”

Without waiting for your response, he lifts you up and places you at the edge of the pool, your pussy sat deliciously in front of where he keeps himself afloat.

He almost drools, noting the way he can still see your slick drip out of you despite your whole body being drenched in pool water. Heeseung wastes no time, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you closer so his tongue can lap at your slit.

The pleasure sends a shock through your body, your back arching almost painfully and your hips push themselves harder against Heeseung’s face. He’s forced so close into your cunt that you can feel each feature—his nose stimulating your clit as his tongue teases your entrance and his plush lips sucking almost obnoxiously all while his chin is already slippery with your arousal.

“Ah-fuck!” He’s only been at it for a few minutes yet you’re already so close. But this isn’t want you want. No, as much as you want to release all over his pretty nose, you didn’t seduce him just to finish so quickly. So, you use all of your strength to pull him off of you and scoot away. “Need you to fuck me, now.”

That’s all it takes for Heeseung to lift himself out of the pool, pick you up, and then throw you on the nearest lounging chair. Thank fuck for Heeseung convincing Sunghoon to buy these at the start of the summer. Otherwise he may have opted for fucking you on the itchy grass.

Grabbing his face, you pull him down, kissing him with a sloppy force while you grow more impatient by the second. “How do you want it?” He’s so polite as he asks, but just the idea of him caring about your pleasure is so arousing. You turn around, placing your cheek on the cushion of the pool lounger and wiggling your ass to taunt him.

It works, of course, and Heeseung takes his place behind you. He slaps his thick girth on the crevice of your ass, feeling the heat between your bodies mix with the humid summer night air. “Hurry, please.” You whine but he just shushes you, dropping his cock to gather your slick on his tip.

You’re tired of waiting, pushing yourself back only slightly to feel him enter you just an inch. “Oh, God.” You gasp, caught off guard by the stretch of just the head. He fights the urge to fully push himself in, instead gently sliding in more, your walls clenching tighter and tighter as each inch stretches you out, a tingling feeling fluttering in your stomach.

He fully bottoms out, standing still with his hands on your hips for a second, before somehow pushing even deeper. You squeak, brows furrowing as you try to ignore the pain of the threatening size currently stuffing you full. You open your eyes, looking back to see his bottom lip caught between his teeth and his eyes shut.

You reach your hand back and tap his own hand, letting him know he can finally move. He nods, leaning forward a bit to hover his body closer to yours. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” You smile at him for a second, but it’s quickly replaced by an open mouthed moan as he pulls back a few inches, then slams himself back in.

Building up a steady pace, he thrusts a few times before finally letting out his first moan. And God, was it beautiful. “Yes-yes let me hear you, baby.” Your voice is weak as his thrusts push your whole body against the chair, your breath unsteady and shaky with each meet of your hips.

It feels amazing, but you can’t help but feel that Heeseung is trying to be gentle with you, which you don’t want. Pushing yourself back again, you meet his thrusts with quiet hmph hmph hmph noises that catch his attention. “You need more? Yeah? My cock isn’t enough for you, needy baby?” He coos at you but you know he’s still holding back. “Please, Heeseung. More.” Your fragile voice ignites something in him, and you’re suddenly being picked up by your hair.

Heeseung grabs your wrists and pins them to the top of the lounger, romantically intertwining his fingers between yours before aggressively snapping his hips against your ass. You let out an almost-too-loud moan, but it only fuels Heeseung more. Your bodies are close and he can’t pull back fully, so instead he fucks into you at a fast, almost blinding pace.

He watches your ass jiggle as it meets his pelvis, the bouncing fat sending him to an almost trance like state. The only thing that snaps him out of it is your whiny voice. “Harder, Heeseung, harder!” He pulls out fully, not giving you time to process his actions as he sits down on the lounger and pulls you on top of him, slipping his cock back into your heat easily.

Thrusting up once, twice, then a third time, he watches your thighs tremble as you try to hold yourself up for him. He finds it cute, how you’ve teased him for so long only to end up too cock drunk to even ride him. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you flat against him so you’re chest to chest with your face in his neck.

He slowly drags his cock out of you, then fully shoves it in, a loud squelching noise following. “So fucking wet. So fucking noisy.” He grits his teeth, clenching his jaw as he fucks up into your cunt in an almost inhumane pace. “Ah ah ah, shit! I’m cumming, Heeseung!”

Your warning barely falls from your lips as you clench impossibly tight around him, body stiffening for a second until your toes curl and you feel the knot in your stomach releasing with a tingling sensation spreading throughout your entire body, which then goes limp against Heeseung’s.

This encourages him to thrust harder, chasing his own release that he can already sense creeping up on him. His fingers dig into your ass, nails leaving indents as his hips don’t slow down. The sound of your release mixing with the slapping of his balls on your ass is all too much, and he finally lets himself go.

“Gonna cum in you, baby. Gonna cum so fucking deep-fuck!” He bites down on your shoulder as he cums, hips stilled and cock stuffed so deep inside of you, you’re sure you’ll end up pregnant even on birth control.

He slowly lowers his hips, caressing your back soothingly as if he’s apologizing for his harsh treatment before. “Was that okay? Did I hurt you?” He cups your cheeks to look into your eyes, only to meet your fucked out expression and lazy smile. “That was the best I’ve ever had.”

That was enough to almost have Heeseung stiffening up again, if not for the sound of the sliding door opening and Jay’s pissed off voice. “Brought you guys some towels.” He walks out with a hand covering his eyes and the other holding out two beach towels, which he throws on the floor carelessly, then walks back to the door. “I told you to keep it down if you got past first base.”

#enhypen smut #heeseung smut #lee heeseung smut #enhypen x female reader

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giannaln4 · 3 months

Text

Sick

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Your sickness got in the way of a romantic day Lando had planned for the both of you, but to him, making you feel better was way more important than anything. (3.1k words)

warnings: stablished relationship, sick!reader, mentions of throw up, extremely cheesy, fluff

a/n: i was supposed to post this last week when the request was made, i'm sorry it took me so long anon but i hope you like it! also i did make it a little longer and more dramatic than i had to. also this is the first request i post!! i have one more but please keep sending more ideas, i love reading what you have in mind

check out the original request here!

-> Prequel

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Lando had been sick last week, and you did everything to take good care of him, as much as you could. You carried medications with you, made sure he drank enough water, and gave him tea to help him feel better. You even cuddled him every night to help him sleep.

He was extremely grateful that you made sure to take good care of him. Having to give everything on track sure made it a little difficult, but he did get better eventually, and he said it was thanks to you.

What you never considered, though, was the fact that his sickness would get to you, but the next week, you felt it, and it was even more evident the night after the Austrian Grand Prix.

For some reason, it hit you harder, and the fact that you had been travelling so much didn’t help. You wanted nothing more than to sleep for days until the sickness went away, but Lando had other plans. With how busy he usually is, he always makes you his priority when he’s away from the track, so before going to bed, he shared the plans he had for the next day, including some activities that required you to get ready and leave the comfort of your home.

You both valued your time together, and you could tell how excited he was to take you out and spend the day with you, something that would also help him to take his mind off the events that took place that weekend, so you said yes.

The next morning, you felt him leave the bed, kissing your forehead goodbye as you turned around to face him.

“I have a little something to do before our date, but you can meet me at the restaurant so we can have breakfast together, yeah?” He whispered. You just nodded, and he kissed you again, whispering a little ‘I love you’ before leaving your room.

You went back to sleep as soon as he left, but the sound of your alarm woke you up an hour later. You grunted as you turned it off, looking at the time, knowing you had to start getting ready if you wanted to make it on time for your date, but your body felt so heavy that you couldn’t even leave the bed.

Your current state was unfortunate, to say the least. A pounding headache, a runny nose, a sore throat, constant sweating, and intense body pain. There was no way you could go out.

It broke your heart to have to cancel your day with Lando, but you knew your body couldn’t take it and that he would understand.

Before notifying your boyfriend that you wouldn't make it, you looked up your symptoms to make sure you didn’t need to seek medical attention. The last thing you wanted was to end up at the hospital; you never liked them. You quickly came to the conclusion that it was a simple cold. You should’ve seen it coming; not only did you take care of Lando while he was sick, but you hadn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days and brushed it off, thinking you were just tired.

You sent him a long text explaining that you were sick and apologising a million times for cancelling the romantic day he had planned, feeling terrible for failing him.

You fell back asleep almost immediately, but sadly, not for long. Your body temperature suddenly dropped, making you shiver, so you brought up every blanket and tried to cover your entire body with them, but stopped when you suddenly felt hot again.

You were sure you had never been this sick; you were uncomfortable, your throat was incredibly dry, and your whole body was sticky from sweat. It even hurt to sneeze. You let out a loud moan in discomfort, and a few seconds later, you heard the door open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you were awake, and I didn’t wanna bother you,” Lando said softly, entering the room. He was holding a few blankets and pillows that covered his face, but you knew he had a worried look on his face. You covered yourself again, up to your head; you didn’t want him to see you like this, not when your hair was an absolute mess and your sleeping shirt looked like you took a shower in it.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had something to do,” you asked under the blankets.

His eyes softened when they hit the lump on the bed as he placed the stuff by your feet. “Don’t worry about that; I’m done for the day.” He approached you and kneeled next to you. “Hey, how bad is it?”

“It’s bad. I don’t wanna get you sick again,” you replied, your throat hurting every time you spoke.

“You’ll be happy to know that I don’t care.” He joked, but you remained silent. “I assume you didn’t have any breakfast yet.”

“No”

"Well, I bought you some soup. You should eat it while it’s still hot, it will be good for you.” He stared at the blankets, waiting for you to come out or at least say something "Baby, come on, let me see you.”

You appreciated him being there to take care of you; it truly warmed your heart, and all you wanted to do was show him how thankful you were, but what if he got sick again because of you? What if you look so bad right now that he will break up with you on the spot? “I don’t look good,” you finally muttered.

“What?” He chuckled, thinking you were joking.

“I’m sweating an insane amount; I can feel my hair sticking to my face.”

“Let me braid your hair so you feel less sticky on the face. I promise you’ll feel better.”

You thought about it for a moment and figured he wouldn’t leave even if you directly asked him to, so you uncovered your face slowly and shyly looked at him. “I feel really ill.”

“I know, baby. Tell me what hurts.”

“Everything. My entire body, the headache is terrible, and I get really cold, but after a second, I feel like I’m boiling.”

He touched your forehead as soon as he noticed your blushed face. “Baby, you’re really hot.”

“I know that,” you joked with a smirk on your face.

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t contain his laughter. “Good to know your sense of humour remains untouched.” He stood up and left the room, coming back in a heartbeat as he held a bowl of soup. “You’re gonna eat your soup while I braid your hair and I promise it will make you feel at least a little bit better.”

“My hair is all covered in sweat, though.” You sat on the bed, waiting for him to give you the soup.

“That’s okay. It’s hot, so please be careful.” You carefully took the bowl from his large hands, and you could see the steam that came off of it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your eyes avoiding his as you blew on the hot liquid.

“You might feel hotter for a moment, but this is good; you need a lot of fluids. Now, I’m gonna sit behind you, okay?” You nodded, making enough space for him.

He struggled a little to get behind you, moving softly so he didn’t make you spill any of the soup. “Are you comfortable?” He asked when he finally settled.

“Yes”

“Ok, should I do one or two?” He started brushing your hair. You were right; you were sweating a lot, but he didn’t care; he just wanted to take proper care of his girlfriend, just like you did when he was sick.

“Two”

“Okay. They might not turn out the best, though. I’m not a great hairstylist, but they will help.” You chuckled, knowing he was right, but that was the least of your worries.

You stayed like that for a few minutes. It didn’t take him long to figure out how to put two braids on you without pulling your hair or making your headache worse. "Done,” he said, getting back on his feet and taking a good look at how you looked with braided hair. His heartbeats began to increase. “You look really cute,” he said as he tilted his head, admiring you.

Your face was burning, and it wasn’t the fever. “Thank you. I actually do feel much better.” And you did; you were surprised at how lighter your head felt without all that hair resting on your face or shoulders.

“See? I told you.” He then kissed his fingertip and tapped your nose with it, making you melt at his touch ”Finish your soup. I’m gonna see if we still have that humidifier.”

He stepped out of the room once again, leaving you alone. Somehow, you already felt better, even though everything hurt the same. But you had to admit that the hot soup was a good call.

Once you were done with it, you laid back down carefully, not wanting to ruin the freshly styled hair. And only a few minutes later, you heard the door again, “No luck with the humidifier, but this will help too.” You paid attention to his hands. He was holding a bucket and a dry cloth in one hand and a bottle of water and some pills in the other. “Just this one last thing, and I’ll let you go back to sleep,” he said, as if he was bothering you; you didn’t feel like he was. If anything, it was the other way around, and you should be the one apologising. He put down the bucket next to the bed and waited for you to sit again, this time paying attention to your damp shirt. “Why don’t you change into some new clothes?”

You looked down at your shirt and felt embarrassed when you noticed how much it looked like you had been drowned in a rainstorm. It didn’t look that bad before, but it must’ve been the hot liquids. “Okay,” you agreed, about to get up, but he stopped you.

He wandered around your shared room, grabbing clean clothes that he believed would be comfortable for you to wear. He didn’t want you to feel too hot or too cold again, so he went for a happy medium. A shirt and underwear. You probably shouldn’t deal with too many layers anyway. “Here, I’ll help you change.”

He helped you with everything, which you were really thankful for since your body was too weak and in pain to do it by yourself. Tossing the dirty clothes somewhere in the room, he proceeded to grab the pillows he had previously set on the bed and started arranging them around you to make your uncomfortable state a little more pleasant.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked, looking down at you, and you nodded in response, “Sure?”

"Positive.” Even your voice was weak.

After you were settled, he grabbed the pills and handed them to you, going for the water bottle next “This is for your headache.” He waited for you to take them and watched you get comfortable again. He then reached into the bucket and completely submerged the cloth, making sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. He stroked it over your face a few times. “You’re all good now. Why don’t you try to sleep?”

You looked up at him in pure admiration, “Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For taking care of me,” you rasped out.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of my sick girlfriend?” You could swear you had literal heart eyes right now. “You took care of me when I was sick, and I´m pretty sure this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault, but you should probably get out of here. I don’t wanna get you sick again, your home race is next.”

He shook his head and sat on the chair that was a few feet away from the bed. “What if you need something and I’m not here?”

You smiled at him again, but suddenly remembered what you were supposed to be doing. He must’ve noticed the change in your face.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, kneeling next to you again as his hand rested on your cheek.

“Are you mad at me?”

“What? Why would I be mad at you?”

“For ruining our date.”

“Darling, we have a lifetime ahead of us. We have plenty of time to go on dates.”

Those words made you feel a million things at the same time, tears threatening to leave your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you more,” he replied, his smile so big and sincere that his dimples made an appearance. “Try to get some sleep, yeah?”

You went back to sleep, and luckily this time you managed to rest for hours. In the meantime, Lando stayed on the bed next to you, doing some work to stay busy and awake, while he kept an eye on you in case you needed him.

The hours went by, and your fever went away, finally. You woke up around 4 PM, slowly opening your eyes and squinting at the sudden brightness.

You scanned the room looking for Lando, but he was nowhere to be found. You figured it made sense that he left. You didn’t really expect him to stay there all day and waste his free day just to be with you.

You tried to get up, but your body still felt heavy. You groaned in pain and fell on your back again, strangely still feeling tired even after sleeping for hours. Before you could try again, Lando was entering the room.

“You came back,” you managed to say.

“Yeah, sorry. I was just getting you some tea.” He approached you and touched your forehead, relieved that you weren’t hot anymore. “How are you feeling?”

"Better,” you replied, not so sure you wanted him to get worried. “I guess my throat still hurts.”

“I figured, but this honey and lemon tea will help with that.” He smiled at you but when you didn’t move, he could feel the worry come back to him “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like tea.”

“Tell your cold that.” You pouted like a little kid, but Lando’s face remained neutral as he waited for you to take the cup. “I know you don’t like tea, but I promise this will help. Besides, weren’t you giving me tea all the time when I was sick?”

You gave in and took it, knowing he was right, and honestly, you would do anything to ease your sore throat.

You started drinking it, slowly but surely. It didn’t taste as bad as you remembered, and you started wondering if your mom was just bad at making tea. “Would you cuddle with me? If it’s not too gross.” You asked out of nowhere.

“Gross? Why-?”

“Because I have been sweating a lot, and it’s not like I took a shower yet,” you explained, a little embarrassed.

“Were you grossed out when I was the sick one asking for cuddles?”

You answered immediately, “No, but you weren’t this sick.”

“C’mon, don’t be silly.” He was happy you wanted to cuddle. Since he got there in the morning, he was concerned that you just wanted him out of there. Carefully, he got in bed with you, sitting against the headboard and getting into a comfortable position. He waited for you to lay down and nestled you between his legs, with your back against his front.

“Thank you for staying with me. I feel much better with you.”

“Really? Because for a moment there, it felt like you didn’t want me here.”

“I do, I really do. I just-” You stopped for a moment to think about your words “I don’t wanna be a burden.”

“Y/N, you know I would never think that.” He was brushing your check.

“Still, you wasted your free day and stayed here all day… for me. We couldn’t even go out like you wanted to.” You then felt guilty about your realisation. “Did you eat something today?”

“I did; I ordered something while you slept. I wanted to get some lunch for you too, but I wasn't sure for how long you’d be asleep. Are you hungry?”

“Not really,” he nodded, even though you couldn’t see him. “I’m still tired.”

Lando had been sick before, and he knew it was exhausting to deal with it, but he doesn’t remember a cold taking him down like that. Still, he agreed to stay there with you while you went to sleep. Again.

A while went by, and he didn’t notice when you started to drift off, but when he felt you shivering on top of him, he opened his eyes quickly.

You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering, but your skin was so hot that he could melt chocolate on your forehead. He knew that your fever coming back and your temperature going up so quickly were bad signs.

“Y/N?” He whispered, softly moving you, “Y/N, are you okay?”

“Mhm?” You hummed. You were holding the blanket tighter and closer to your body.

“How are you feeling?” He kept a low voice, not wanting to overwhelm you.

“I’m freezing.” He was about to embrace you again, but was interrupted when you abruptly sat on the bed. “I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He followed your actions and reached down for the bucket that was still next to the bed and placed it between your legs. ‘Not good,’ he kept thinking, rubbing your back for comfort “If that’s the case, then you’re worse than I thought, sweetheart; we might have to go to the doctor.” You didn’t like the seriousness of his voice.

“I don’t like hospitals.”

“Well, I don’t care whether you like it or not; your fever is coming back and you’re feeling nauseous. I don’t think that’s normal for a cold. You are literally shaking.”

“I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep a little more.”

“I know you don’t want to, but we really need to see a doctor.” You didn’t say anything, hoping he would just forget about that, but of course he wouldn’t. “Everything is gonna be okay. You’re here with me right now, aren’t you?” You stayed silent. “Come on, I’m gonna take you to the hospital, and I promise you’ll feel better, okay?” You nodded. You knew he was taking care of you, good care of you, but anything related to sickness, doctors, or hospitals scared you for some reason. “Hey, I’m not gonna let anything bad happen to you. You’re safe with me. I promise,” he said, raising his pinky in front of you, satisfied when you locked it with your own.

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