#but like. he’s not going to make a move & i don’t want to ruin our friendship
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 day ago
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need - m. murdock
a/n: y'all ever get ridiculously high and see a photo of the red and yellow daredevil suit and get sick with how badly you want matt murdock? i do. this is the product of that. its just a lot of fluff and kisses and banter and such
3:21 A.M.
You will yourself not to fall asleep, not just yet. But, you curl into a pillow as your eyes grow heavy, your brain starting to wander somewhere far away from Hell’s Kitchen. Your breathing is slow, and these are your favorite moments.
They’re filled with anticipation, a calm before the storm. Most nights, you’re too anxious to sleep. And maybe it’s because you know he’s putting himself in danger. But you have this fleeting suspicion in the very back corner of your mind that it’s because you yearn for him so intensely, that you burn not with anxiety.. But with longing.
The window barely creeks as he opens it, knowing your relaxed form is curled up in between silk sheets just a couple of feet away.
“Hey Daredevil,” You hum softly, sleepy eyes watching as he climbs inside your bedroom, “City finally sleeping?” You wonder, and he just scoffs.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” He responds, and you just grin at how brooding he is.
“Nice suit,” You start, “Makes your thighs look great.”
“Thanks.” He hums, “Must be some suit if it gets pretty things like you to notice me.” You roll your eyes, and you open your mouth just to tease him, but he sits his pretty ass down right onto your amazing and gorgeous silk sheets! That he insisted on!
“Oh, do not tell me you are sitting on my pretty sheets! Matthew!” You huff, gently kicking his back.
“Ow—Hey!” He laughs, squirming a bit. “I thought you were happy to see me!”
“I was—I am!” You remind, “But you’re getting dirt, blood, or—Whatever in our bed!”
“You’re bruising my kidneys,” He laughs as he slumps back, feeling as you kick him—Well, kicking seems so violent, you’re just trying to push him off a bit. He reaches behind himself to grab your ankle.
“Fuck them kidneys!” You say between laughs, and then you move to push him off the bed, leaning up against him as you push.. You’re not very successful.
“Oh my god,” he laughs, and then he twists his body and grabs you by the arms to pull you onto his lap. “You’re such a brat.” He clicks his tongue, and you just shake your head.
“I just don’t like devils in gold getting my sheets dirty.” You defend. He tilts his head. Then, he lets go of one of your arms and pulls his helmet off, a smirk on his face.
“Maybe it won’t bother you if you can’t see it.” And your brain takes just a second to buffer before you realize what’s happening.
“Daredevil, I swear to—” You move to get off his lap but Matt simply grabs you by the waist and pulls your back against his chest, his arm wrapping around your torso.
“Okay, Easy,” He grins, before placing the helmet over your eyes. You blink as you get used to the lack of light.
“Kinda smells like you,” You confess, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss your neck. That’s all it takes to get you melting against him. But it’s only after a minute to you wiggle to get off his lap, “I’m still mad at you,” You inform.
“Fine,” He concedes, “I have to shower anyways.”
“Finally, something we can agree on.” You hum, and he stands up, taking a few steps towards the bathroom as you pull off his helmet, and you think, okay, great, he’s finally gonna clean off that musk— “Matthew!” You yelp as Matt swoops down and picks you up from behind, bridal style.
“Sorry, sweetheart,” He hums, “I lied.”
“Yeah, I figured—” but before you can finish, he tosses you right onto the bed. You groan as you land on the bed. And then, Matt climbs into bed next to you. “Matthew, I swear to fucking god—”
“Oh, stop,” He hums softly, “I just want to lay with you here,” He hums as you climb on top of him, resting on his lower stomach before his hands find your waist.
“I can’t believe you’re ruining the silk sheets that we got because of your senses.” You shake your head.
Matt elects to ignore your concerns.
“Do you really like the suit?” He wonders, and you just grin.
“You look very sexy in it,” You promise, and he grins.
“Okay,” He starts, “Give me a kiss and I’ll go shower.” He promises, and then he purses his lips—Of course, you lean down and kiss him, wondering if normal couples knew how much they’re missing out on.
But it only lasts a moment, because then, with a groan, Matt sits up, beginning to rub your sides. He’s a man of his word, and the quicker he showers, the quicker he’ll come back. So, begrudgingly, you climb off him.
“Go shower,” You request, and he leans over and kisses your cheek, so you add, “Hurry back.” And you can feel his lips form a smirk against your cheek.
As soon as Matt’s in the bathroom, you peel off the sheets that were on your bed, putting the spare set of soft sheets onto the mattress. Then, you’re too excited for your boyfriend to come back to rest, so you make your way to the kitchen to make Matt a snack; He should be hungry, and you’d genuinely rather pull teeth than let him go to bed hungry.
Your kind gesture is interrupted, though. As you pull out the peanut butter he likes from the cupboard, you hear light footsteps behind you and before you can react, he has again swept you off your feet, but now.. His warm skin is pressed against you, because Matthew has swept you off your feet in just his boxer briefs.
His hair is still damp from the shower, and you’re sure if you leaned up to kiss his scruff, that would be just a tad damp. So, you’re too enamored to protest when he picks you up, hauling you off to the bedroom, with your new sheets, and he gently tosses you onto the mattress.
You don’t have time to say anything before him when he climbs into bed after you, climbing on top of you. His hands find yours, linking your fingers together.
“Comfortable?” He asks you. You grin at him.
“Mhm,” You hum, “But I think you need to kiss me.”
“Need? I don’t know about—” He cuts himself off with an ‘oomph’ as you shift your position, now on top of him.
“Yeah. Need.” You hum, leaning down to kiss him again.
Matt’s new suit and helmet lays sprawled out in your apartment, but he decides kissing you at three something in the morning is much more important than that.
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faewrenbird · 2 days ago
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Homicipher Theory
Mr. Gap: The Homicidal Stalker
Disclaimer: This is all just my own interpretation and speculation. This is not negative or an attack on the character. I love Mr. Gap for being the worst of the worst. He’s sickening and awful and makes my skin crawl but in the best way that horror fiction can manage.
That said, Trigger Warnings: Mentions of stalking, sexual assault, serial killing, and cannibalism
Also
Homicipher spoilers/Mr Gap ending spoilers
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If we go by my pre-established theory that the Ghost Apartments are a haunted grounds where an apartment building was built over the ruins of a hospital and collapsed subway, then we must assume that it’s haunted by ghosts from many different time periods. I believe that ghosts like Mr. Crawling and Mr. Hood are among the oldest, original haunts. Ghosts like Mr. Silvair and the nurse are from the hospital time period. Some ghosts are from the subway collapse. And some, like Mr. Gap and the Bride, are more recent, from when the apartment building still had occupants before its abandonment.
Mr. Gap is a rather unique entity among the ghosts. He’s the only one who can be anywhere at any time, can easily shift between the real world and the spirit realm, and clearly understands that he is a ghost.
But why? What makes him special?
I fear that the answer may be an unsavory one...
Mr. Gap
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Mr. Gap is the second entity we can meet once we wake up with control of ourselves in the Ghost Apartments. Moments before we meet him, Mr. Hood gives us a warning. He tells us to be careful, there are dangerous entities out there.
Ignoring his advice entirely, we interact with Mr. Gap. And since we don’t know the language yet, we’re very likely to smile at him, resulting in our first swift death of the game via getting our heart ripped out and eaten.
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The best thing we can do in early game is to ignore him. When he asks for a body part, step away. Later on, we can interact with him more directly, but initially, survival means not flashing him our pearly whites.
It becomes obvious early on why he’s called Mr. Gap. It’s because he…well, he only exists in gaps. He’s not a roaming ghost, he appears to be bound by the walls of this ever-changing building. But wherever there’s a hole in the wall, there’s Mr. Gap, peering out from between strands of greasy hair with one eye.
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Every time we interact with him, he requests a body part from us. Heart, arm, leg, head…and he means this literally. If we consent (or even just smile at him) he’ll devour whatever body part he asked for.
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But he can be helpful. While being chased by Mr. Hugeface, we can desperately ask him to get us out of there and force ourselves into a vent with him. He agrees to take us to safety, though not out of the kindness of his heart. He always wants something in return. Fortunately for us, he settles for just some of our hair this time.
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There is never a time when he’s not trying to weasel something out of us. Even in his own endings, he bargains and pleads for our heart.
Now, you can easily interpret this to simply mean that he’s some sort of mischievous spirit. Evil in the eyes of humans, but more of a representation of chaotic neutral yokai. Certainly, some of the entities in the Ghost Apartments bear loose similarities to yokai. And the tropes of bargaining and trickery go hand in hand with these sorts of myths.
Personally, I lean away from that reading because the game actually doesn’t seem to use very much in the way of Japanese yokai myths. I dug deep trying to drawn comparisons for each of the ghosts, but they were loose at best. There seems much more evidence that the ghosts are, as the name implies, actual ghosts of humans who died here, rather than spiritual entities.
And if that’s the case, it begs the question: Who was Mr. Gap? How did he die? Why does he haunt rather than move on into the afterlife?
I feel that the imagery of his character makes the answers obvious. The game takes place in an apartment building where Mr. Gap lives in the walls. I think that’s a direct reference to his life before death.
I theorize that when the apartment was inhabited, Mr. Gap was a man who crept through crawlspaces and inside of walls in order to spy on women. I believe it can be interpreted that he also lured, abused, and killed those women.
“Mighty hefty accusations, Wren. Where’s your proof?”
No proof, only evidence from my own interpretation to support the claims! I'm sure there are plenty of other ways to interpret his character, this is just mine!
Exhibit A - Living in the walls. Again, this seems the most obvious and on-the-nose point. He quite literally lives in the walls and is bound to spaces with gaps. But he also has an apparently innate ability to navigate the ghost apartments no matter how much it shift and changes. This could allude to how he had the internal structure of the apartment building perfectly mapped when he was alive.
More importantly, he only makes himself seen through holes in the walls and gaps like vents. And we know he’s watching us at all times from those very gaps. This is a direct reference to him being a peeping Tom. Even the other ghosts seem to recognize this, as we can get a humorous scene of Mr. Silvair taping up a hole in the wall so that Mr. Gap can’t look inside.
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Exhibit B - Self Awareness. This is the most fascinating aspect of Mr. Gap, in my opinion. Most of the ghosts we meet seem fragmented or confused. If they know what they are, or were, they don’t show it. They seem to understand that there’s an “other” place, but not really the distinction between life and death.
Mr. Gap, however, outright knows and brags about being a ghost. At one point, he shows us old newspaper clippings with a photo of three women with censored faces standing in front of the apartment building, with Mr. Gap in a window behind them.
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He can, and does, travel between realms. I assume this is possible because he’s bound to spaces within the apartment, but not specifically spaces in the spirit realm. The apartment is his cage, not the spirit realm itself. Because of this, he’s perfectly capable of peering out at modern day strangers walking by on the street and in the alleys. Also perfectly capable of haunting the old building and keeping its property value at a hearty zero.
But what does self awareness have to do with him being a criminal stalker and killer? Well, I think that he’s afforded these sort of rule-breaking abilities for one main reason, which brings me to…
Exhibit C - He’s a psychopath. No, I’m not using the term colloquially. I mean that truly, by definition, Mr. Gap is a psychopath. To be more accurate, by today’s definitions in the DSM-5, he would have Antisocial Personality Disorder (ASPD), characterized by a lack of empathy, disregard for others, and deceitfulness (*ASPD is more complex than this, please do not take this as a statement on the disorder which is characterized by much more than these three things).
If this seems like a stretch, I invite you to look at the three endings you can get at a particular point in the game, all involving Mr. Gap.
In this unfortunate decision path, we manage to escape the Ghost Apartments. However, by this points we’re too far gone to be able to live among normal society. Not only has our memory been warped by the ghost realm, but our body is unrecognizable and grotesquely inhuman. We know this based on the reaction of the first person we ask for directions. He panics at the sight of us and flees. We are, for all intents and purposes, the rotting Michael Afton parading about as a normal human while looking like a decaying zombie.
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At this point there’s only one person left who can help us. Mr. Gap. Since he’s the only one who can cross between worlds. But even at our darkest and most vulnerable moment, is he going to help out of the kindness of his heart? No, of course not! In fact, he takes it as the perfect opportunity to ask for our heart again, the same way he did the very first time we spoke to him.
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We have three options. 1, give him our heart. As expected, the ending is the same as the beginning. He kills us and eats our heart. 2, refuse to give him our heart. He’s disappointed, but leaves us alone. We wander down the alley but don’t get far before we pass out. And then…Mr. Gap takes our unconscious body and, wouldn’t you know it, eats us anyway.
In the third option, we give him someone else’s heart. We kill a random person and deliver their heart to Mr. Gap instead. He’s not exactly pleased but he did make a deal to bring us back, so he reluctantly drags us back into the apartment.
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Sadly, while Mr. Gap is able to cross realms at will, he can’t bring us across. Instead, it seems he just brings us inside of the abandoned apartment. We don’t fully understand this though, which seems deceptive on his part. Sure, yes, he brought us back as promised. But not to where we wanted to be.
Now, it’s just us and Mr. Gap. Of course, he keeps begging for body parts. Except now, we have the chance to ask him why. The question…confuses him, even seems to irritate him. “Why?” What reason does there need to be besides that it’s fun?
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Honestly, this interaction was bone-chilling to me. By no stretch of the imagination does Mr. Gap view us as anything more than a shiny toy (that was how I felt about it here at least).
I believe it’s this callousness that acts as his superpower. Unlike the other ghosts, he doesn’t have any emotional attachments preventing him from moving on to the afterlife. There’s no particularly strong thing keeping him here. He’s not repenting (Mr. Hood), he’s not in a cycle of suffering (Ms. Blue-Clad/Mr. Chopped), he’s not obsessively invested in his life’s purpose (Mr. Silvair). He’s just. Having fun.
I think this is a carry-over from when he was alive. He had no particular reason for stalking and killing beyond the fact that it was fun for him.
Because of this, he’s not trapped in the same way as the other ghosts. He’s actually quite content to cross between realms and peep at women who wander by. And if he’s real lucky, someone will get close enough to snatch.
Exhibit D - The Newspaper Clippings. What’s so special about them apart from the clear fact that he’s bragging about being a ghost? Well…I don’t think that’s all that he was bragging about. This old clipping includes a picture of three women with censored faces standing in front of the apartment. Victims, perhaps? It’s quite common for serial killers to keep trophies or memorabilia of their kills. Taking newspaper clippings reporting on the crime is actually a big one.
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Exhibit E - Cannibalism. Now this, I believe, could be either literal or metaphorical, or a combination of both. When he was prowling and murdering women, did he actually eat them as well? Maybe. Or maybe the afterlife cannibalism is metaphorical, depicting him as a predator, with us as prey. The symbolism of flesh eating is violating, as well, and his biggest interest is in eating our heart. This could line up with a common delusion among stalkers, in which they believe the object of their delusions is in love with them.
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Exhibit F - Sexual Assault. You may think this is a stretch and it’s bad enough that he could have been a serial killer and I’d agree with you. But I really think there’s enough here to at least suggest that he included sexual assault in his modus operandi. For one thing, he was a peeping tom, unquestionably. That’s the whole point of the holes and gaps that he peeks out of. This suggests sexual motivation for his actions. Then, there’s the possible symbolism of cannibalism meaning that he’s a predator. And, as also stated, when he brags about being spotted as a ghost, it’s on a newspaper clipping with only women, which lends credence to the idea that he stalked and spied on them specifically.
And lastly, the biggest evidence I have towards this point is in the Return Ending. At the very end, he makes his finally appearance under our sheets. This imagery feels intentional and deliberate. We lift the sheets and see him essentially between our legs. We dismiss him as being a prankster, and this ending concludes with him suddenly lunging from under the blankets with a wicked grin and hands outstretched to presumably harm us.
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And that’s it. Fade to black.
To me, this reads obviously as a reference to assault. The stalker is in our bed, between our legs, and leaps to violently harm us.
We know that Mr. Gap doesn’t have a body, only arms and a face. So, this action appears to be simply a reflection of the actions he performed when he was alive. OR there’s also the possibility that he lied to us, and he does, in fact, have a body. I wouldn’t put it past him.
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So, is it possible that Mr. Gap really is a reflection of some of the worst parts of humanity? Maybe. Or maybe he does love us, or he is just a mischievous yokai. I like the thought that he's a monster who gets away with it because everyone views him as an irritation rather than a real threat. Even if I'm way off base, he's still a totally fascinating character due to his uniqueness among the other present entities.
Honestly, serial killer or not, who would say no to a face like this?
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szczek · 2 years ago
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i have never felt this much angry i’m tearing up and want to murder my dad
#how dare he say that to me#all i’ve been doing these past two weeks was declittering the house#i have cleaned out the entire bathroom and the goddamn kitchen so that theres space and everything has its own place#and there’s no expired things#and now there is an actual space to put groceries inside#and today i wanted to do the komoda in our dining room which btw doubles as his home office but also is on the middle of the goddamn house s#so you Have to go through it to go anywhere right#and he just asked if i’m finishing the cleanup now so i sad No cause i work 6 more hours - so after work#and he has the halls to get mad at me that i half as stuff and that the vacuum will be out here for the next two days cause i won’t do it#and that i left a crystal vase on the dining table for two weeks now and haven’t touched it like I DONT HAVE THE TIME TO DO EVEYTHING ALL AT#once okay!!! i will do it don’t talk to me like that#and going back to the dining room being his office it means every flat space is covered with his documents and i mean every#it’s the messiest shot ever cause he doesn’t think to keep it clean#and i’m the one that makes the mess#and now he tells me not to throw things cause i put down the remote loudly like i will do as i freaking please cause i’m furious and he has#ruined my good mood#all he has done after me cleaning is be mad that he can’t find things like i haven’t moved anything nowhere he just doesn’t even bother to#search if he doesn’t see smth immediately he gets mad and says we always hide stuff from him to annoy him#absolutely no gratitude from either of my parents i hate it here more often than not
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davinawritings · 4 months ago
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A Knotty Discovery
Pairing: Male Werewolf X Fem Chubby Human Reader
Warnings: Smut, Penetration, Knotting, Sex toys, Ruined Orgasm, Creampie
Summary: You come home to find that your extremely attractive Werewolf roommate has found your collection of knotted dildos.
🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤
When you walked into your apartment, you were surprised not to see your roommate sitting on the couch in the living room. It was Sunday night, which was your traditional movie night together. Both of you worked but always ensured you were home by five on Sundays. Since you both had Mondays off, you made Sunday your weekly pizza and movie night, staying up late and enjoying each other’s presence.
Decker and you have lived together for over a year now, and honestly, you love it. The only problem was your small, well maybe not so small, crush on him. You couldn’t help it, though; he is just so amazing. He is the exact opposite of you. You are human, and he is a werewolf. While you are short and chubby, he is massively tall and made of muscle. You are soft and gentle, while he is hard and strong.
You cherish movie nights where he wraps an arm around you and pulls you close. You love leaning against his large body and nuzzling into his soft fur. He always manages to brighten your day and make you laugh. He takes care of you and makes you feel love. Unfortunately, he has never expressed any romantic interest in you, so you try to be content with having him as a friend.
It’s already past five, and Decker is usually getting everything set up for movie night by now. You set the pizza you brought home on the counter, thinking he must be running late. You head for your bedroom and decide to take the extra time to put on your cute pajamas.
You certainly had not been expecting to walk in and see Decker kneeling on the floor in front of your closet, your box of vibrators and dildos open in front of him. There are several knotted dildos on the floor beside him, and the largest one is gripped in his clawed hand. Your face heats up immediately, and you accidentally let out a small gasp at the sight.
The noise catches his attention, and his eyes immediately meet your own. You quickly look to the floor in embarrassment at his intense gaze. “Oh, no, pretty girl. Eyes on me. How long have you been hiding this? Hmm?”. You can’t seem to push any words out of your mouth, and you hear him moving because of your lack of response. You stand entirely frozen as he stops before you, using one hand to guide your eyes up to his.
“All these months, you have never shown any interest in monsters. The only male you went on a few dates with, being that loser human, and now I find all this. My adorable little human likes monster cock, well, werewolf cock specifically”, he says with a smirk. You try to pull away, your mortification at an all-time high at his words, but he doesn’t let you budge.
“Sweetheart, I don’t think you realize how much I have been holding myself back, thinking you had no interest in a werewolf like me. From the moment I met you, I wanted you sitting on my knot. I wanted to hold your plush body in my claws and never let you go, but I thought you wanted a human male. I had to keep myself from ripping your clothes off every fucking day”. You let out a needy whimper at his words, and a smirk appeared on his face once again.
“Baby, when you wear those little pajama shorts, and I can see your thick thighs, all I can think about is holding them in my hands as I thrust my cock inside you over and over. And last Sunday, when you wore that cute little nighty for our movie night, I swear I was hard all night. All I wanted to do was bend you over the side of the couch and knot you all night long. Your body looks so fucking breedable, baby, and I just want to fill you every moment of every day” he finishes his last statement with a low growl, and it goes straight to your panties.
You wet your lips and reply, “I.. I have always wanted you, Decker. I just didn’t think you were interested in me, so I never said anything”. He shakes his head and says, “Baby, how could I not want you? Everything about you makes me want to claim you, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing, but first, you are going to show me exactly what you do with those toys over there.
You feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought, but it is quickly overpowered by arousal and lust at the thought of him watching you. He gives you a quick pat as you make your way over to the toys and reach for your medium-sized dildo.
“The big one, sweetheart. I must ensure you are nice and stretched out when I take you. I’m a lot bigger than your little toys over there”, he tells you, his voice a low purr. You almost moan at his words, the excitement of being so filled making you crave him even more.
You slowly take off your clothing, wanting to tease him a bit. As your panties hit the floor, you see Decker take a big inhale and moan. You blush under his gaze, and he gives you his signature wolfish grin.
You place the large dildo on the floor, the suction cup base holding it in place. You kneel over it, lining its tip up with your wet entrance. You look at him as you slowly let your weight push you down on the thick dildo. His eyes don’t leave your slick cunt as he moves one of his hands to squeeze his cock over his pants. You felt your mouth salivating at the sight.
You reach halfway down when you rise up again, leaving just the tip inside you before dropping back down. You continue this until the knot presses against your entrance on each downward stroke. You moan as you watch his eyes bounce all around your body. The dildo feels so good, but his eyes on you feel even better. You release soft whimpers and moans, and you work your body up and down.
“That’s it, baby. Keep riding. Fuck I love the sight of your greedy cunt swallowing that dildo. You look so fucking beautiful, baby. There you go. Go a little faster, baby. I wanna see those perfect tits bounce faster, little one. Fuck princess, I can’t wait to fill you with my cock. I wanna see you take that knot, baby. I wanna see your greedy little pussy stretch around it”, he growls out, lust lacing his voice.
You spread your legs wider and drop your pussy down lower. You move one of your fingers down to your swollen clit and rub tight circles on it. Pleasure slams through your body, and the knot fully pops inside your tight cunt. “Fu-Fuck Decker. I’m cumming. Fuck I’m cumming”, you cry out.
Just as your cunt clenches down at the beginning of probably the best orgasm of your life, Decker wraps his claws around your arms and pulls you up and off the dildo, the suction cup keeping it secured to the floor. You cry out at the ruined orgasm, your cunt trying to clench around nothing, and your clit pulsing in need of stimulation. Tears spring to your eyes as your thighs clench together, trying to get any stimulation at all. Decker is quick to reach one hand down and separate your legs, stopping any stimulation and ruining your orgasm completely.
You look at him in confusion and a hint of betrayal as tears stream down your face. He licks up the tears from your cheeks before saying, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’ve decided that the first time we fuck, the only knot you are going to cum on is mine.” With that, he pushes you back to lie on the bed as he starts stripping his clothes.
You stare at every glorious inch of his body that gets exposed. Your need for him increases with each second. As his cock is revealed, you audibly gasp. He wasn’t lying when he said he was bigger than your toys. His cock is so giant that even fully hard, it hangs down towards the floor, too heavy to stand upright. The knot at the base is larger than your fist, and your nipples harden even more at the thought of him forcing it inside you.
“Tell me you want it, princess. I need you to tell me now because once I start, I won’t be able to stop. I’ve thought about this for far too long to be able to hold back once I finally have you,” he says, giving you one last chance to back out.
You spread your legs wide, making sure your dripping pussy is entirely on display, and reply, “Please, Decker. Please, I want this, I need this, I need you. Please fill me. Make me yours”. He is on you before you even finish. He pushes your legs up and over his shoulders, his cock resting over your pussy and your lower belly. He thrusts his cock back and forth but holds back from entering you, just working on covering himself in your slick juices.
“Mmmm, I love how soft your body is, baby. So fucking perfect in every way. Drives me fucking mad”, he growls out. Each brush of his cock rubs your pulsing clit, and all you want is for him to push inside you. You are just about to start begging when he finally lines himself up with your needy hole and pushes in. He only goes about halfway, but you are already crying out at the feeling.
He moans your name and keeps thrusting, moving deeper and deeper with each stroke. He watches your body open up for him, mumbling the word perfect under his breath. On his next thrust, his knot hits your entrance, and he seems to lose all control. He grabs onto your love handles and starts fucking you like an animal.
You cry out in ecstasy at feeling so full, his cock slamming into your g-spot brutally on every thrust. Your hands grip his forearms, needing to hold on and ground yourself as he fucks you like he owns you. “Fuck Decker… you feel so good. Don-don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please”.
He moans at your begging, leaning forward to cover your body with his own. Your knees are pushed up towards your shoulders, and his body keeps you in place, unable to move. You cum with a cry of his name, squirting on his cock from the pleasure.
He doesn’t give you any time to recover as he continues using your puffy pussy. You whimper at the overstimulation that sets in, but you don’t want him to stop. You need to feel him knot you. You need to feel him fill you with his cum.
“Your pussy is fucking heaven, baby. I’m never fucking letting you go. Do you hear me? You’re MINE.” he says as his thrusts speed up. His hips slammed against you and pushed you down into the mattress. You only manage to whimper and moan in response, tears streaming down your chubby cheeks in pleasure.
He pulls back almost entirely before slamming his hips down, pressing his knot against your entrance and keeping it there as he tries to push it in. Your entrance puts up a good fight, and he growls, angry at the denial of entry. You start to question whether or not he will be able to fit his knot inside when he shifts his weight so almost all of it is in his hips, pushing his knot harder against your dripping cunt.
Gravity seems to be on his side as his knot is forced into your tight cunt as he drops down against you completely. You scream out his name at the insane stretch, never having been this filled, his tip kissing your womb. Your arms wrap around his back as your nails dig into his fur. He starts his thrusts again, but this time shallow as his knot stays stuck inside of you. Each stroke causes your body to jiggle beneath him, your nipples rubbing against his hairy chest, sending shocks of pleasure to your aching clit.
He pulls his hips back, and his cock pulls your bottom half off the bed by your swollen cunt, before he drops back down. He groans with the motion and continues repeating it. You cry out each time, your pussy overfilled and overwhelmed with the sensation of him.
He slams you down once more, and your legs begin to shake with pleasure. You scream out his name as your cunt once again clamps down on his massive cock, milking him with everything you have. You feel his cock twitching as he lets out a loud growl followed by swears. His cock begins filling you to the brim with his seed. Your already too-full pussy is being filled even more. Your lower stomach bloats and hardens as he cums and cums and cums, his knot not allowing even a single drop of his seed to drip from your cunt.
You cling to him as you both come down, trying to regulate the air in your lungs. He keeps you pressed to him as he rolls onto his back, draping you over his warm chest. You stay like this for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of each other’s embrace. As your mind starts returning, you sit up slightly to look at him.
“Why were you going through my closet?” you ask him. He gives you a soft smile and answers, “I was setting up for movie night and wanted to get that fuzzy throw blanket you keep on the couch in the winter. It’s a little cold today, so I thought you might enjoy it. I remember you saying you were putting it in the closet, so I went looking for it.”.
You smile at his thoughtfulness and place a loving peck on his snout. “The throw blanket is in the hallway closet for future reference.” He stares at you for a moment before laughing. His chest rises and falls, causing you to shake up and down. His laughter is quickly interrupted by a moan as your pussy shifts on his cock from the movement.
“Well, we probably have another 30 minutes to rest while my knot goes down, and then we can start movie night. Although I think this time I’ll have you seated on my lap with my cock and knot nice and warm in your perfect little cunt”.
You smile approvingly, moving your head back to snuggle into his warm chest. You never thought you would be thankful that your roommate found your knotted dildos.
🖤❤️💕💕❤️🖤
Let me know what you think! I hope you enjoyed ❤️❤️❤️
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joonberriess · 11 months ago
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t h e b o y i s m i n e
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⋆ TAGS — mean!jk, heavy degradation, sub!oc vibes, fingering, creampiess, pussy eating, oc is super sensitive hehe, cock warming in the car, ass play(?), intense cow girl moment, dirty talk, mentions of squirting(?), messy sex, oc is cunty (CUNT CUNT CUNT), RED MF FLAGS, jk ain’t shit and neither is oc, mentions of cheating, possessive!oc don’t play about her bestie, joon n oc moment bc why not, she’s lowkey a bimbo, jk likes mocking oc, nasty sex, jk’s a simp for his bestie, oc whines a lot lol, 4liferrrsssss, oc messy asf but jk is too
⋆ WORD COUNT — 6.2 k
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‘Something’s not right.’ Is what Sujin begins to think right off the bat when her boyfriend brings her to meet his “best friend”. Sujin already knew that Jungkook had a “girl” best friend wayy before she even talked to the man. All her friends were against it when she told them she was interested in Jungkook.
“No girl, you’re gonna regret it like big time. That man is going to have you looking like a fool.” They’d say but Sujin seemed hard of hearing..
Sujin knew what she was getting into but nothing could have prepared her for the hot piping mess being served in front of her face. For fucks sake her boyfriend couldn’t even fucking sit next to her because he chose to sit with “y/n”. Sujin wants to think it’s a childhood thing, maybe that’s why they’re so unnaturally close.
“Oh.” Sujin says when y/n tells her that no, they in fact met almost two years ago as college freshmans. (Sujin’s beginning to run out of ideas to make up in her head so she doesn’t go insane over the sight of you casually touching her boyfriend and Jungkook letting it happen?) Jungkook even helps separate your perilla leaf with his chopsticks.
What are you a child? Sujin’s NOT liking this so far.
“So,” Sujin smiles as politely as she can muster, “how’d you guys meet?”
You smile softly back at her, “My brother has a frat house and Jungkook happened to join, we only met cause my brother was forcing his frat guys to help me move into my new apartment. He made them do it shirtless which was pretty funny.”
Sujin nods slowly, “Ohh.. how nice. So like you guys started hanging out or what’s the deal?”
Jungkook shrugs, “I saw her manga books and we bonded over that,” he keeps it curt, like he’s not interested in talking to her (his own girlfriend), “we started chilling and yeah.” Sujin fucking hates when he talks to her like he’s bored already.
“He kept saying I reminded him of Bayonetta!” You pipe back in with a dreamy smile.
“Uh-huh, Bayonetta..” Sujin clears her throat and shifts around in her seat, “Uhh well, I think it’s getting a bit late no? Kinda time for me to get going.”
You purse your lips in a soft pout and nod at her, “I see.. I hope to see you again, you’re really nice and pretty.” You coo, “Jungkookie’s super lucky to have you,” Sujin appreciates your sincerity but she’s not so sure if she can look past how close you are with her boyfriend.
“You didn’t bring your car didn’t you?” Jungkook suddenly says, “C’mon I’ll drive you.” He rises to his feet and holds his hand out for you take.
Sujin’s jaw nearly drops as HER boyfriend slings your purse over his shoulder and helps you up, guiding you out of the booth by a hand to your back.
“Jungkook.” Sujin snaps, “I think she’s got it don’t you think?” Her boyfriend turns to look at her, and proceeds to give her the meanest fucking mug ever. Like if she had the audacity to ruin whatever the fuck was happening in front her. “What?” Sujin raises a brow.
You look up at Jungkook with those stupid puppy eyes of yours, “I can call an uber no biggie.” You say softly.
“Hey, since our meeting was cut so short, how bout I pay for it, yeah?” Sujin smiles while whipping her phone out and pressing ‘request’, like she didn’t have that ride ready to order.
Jungkook does that thing when he’s pissed where he pokes his tongue inside his cheek, he has the audacity to have a staredown with her but Sujin doesn’t back down. “..Yeah, I’ll walk you out then y/n.”
“It was nice meeting you.” You softly say while hugging Sujin tightly before waltzing out the door with Jungkook’s hand over your hip.
Sujin has to pinch the bridge of her nose, on one hand you’re the sweetest thing ever but c’mon you can’t be THAT dense can you? Sujin would have liked you in another world where you weren’t trying to get with her boyfriend.
Sujin looks out of the window and sees Jungkook leaning against the car door while you slip into the back. He’s telling you something and you’re looking at him like he’s hung the fucking stars or something. Luckily nothing happens and Jungkook closes the door before stepping back to watch the car take off.
“Fucking prick.” Sujin mutters under her breath as she steps out with a pissed look. “What the fuck was that Jungkook, huh? You gonna sit there and lie to my face and tell me not to worry about her? Answer me.” She lightly hits his arm.
Jungkook sighs deeply, “What? Fuck are you on right now, the night was going so good I don’t see the problem here.”
His nonchalant attitude makes her seethe even more, “Jungkook, she has no fucking boundaries and you don’t seem to give a shit about that, I’m the GIRLFRIEND here but this fucking turned into me meeting you two instead of her meeting me. It’s fucking humiliating watching her put hands on my boyfriend and worse that you chose to sit with her.”
“And yet you knew I was friends with her. Literally that’s everything everyone’s been telling you before I brought you here to meet her, be prepared for how close y/n is with me. This isn’t brand new to you Sujin.” Jungkook replies while fishing a cigarette out of his pocket.
Sujin watches in disbelief as he lights it and takes a drag like nothing, “That doesn’t make it okay for her to do that though. Close or not I don’t give a fuck Jungkook, you’re either with me or you’re not.” She snaps, “So tell me now before I waste my fucking time.”
Jungkook takes his sweet time, puffing away as he watches the smoke disappear into the night sky, “Okay.”
“Okay?” Sujin tilts her head, “Okay, what?”
“It’s over.” And just like that Sujin’s jaw drops for real this time, she’s utterly gagged into silence as she watches her (now) ex-boyfriend stomp out the cigarette before turning to her with a sinister look in his eye, “Bye.” He passes without as much as a glance, leaving her silent.
Sujin turns her head and watches him leave, “What the fuck.” She whispers.
.
(Not even an hour later.)
“Okay, this one or this one?” You held up two different babydoll dresses—one white with delicate frills, the other silk but more of a bodycon-type but it had a cute bow on it so why not.
Jungkook’s eyes briefly flick up from his phone, he stares at both of the dresses for a cool minute before nodding his head, “The white one.” He leans back with one arm on the bed and both legs spread apart (gosh him and his manspreading).
“I thought so too!” You happily say and carelessly toss it into the pile of clothes lying in your open suitcase, “Okay now help me decide between my sneakers or my ballet flats?” He doesn’t even answer cause he’s busy laughing at something on his phone.
“Jungkooookkk,” you huff irritably but this man does not look up. He just toys with his stupid lip ring while smiling down at his screen.
You let the shoes hit the ground as you quietly saunter over, slipping right into his lap with practiced ease. He doesn’t react because this is an all too familiar scene for him. He hooks his arm around your waist and tucks his chin over your shoulder, still scrolling mindlessly. “What’s up? Hm.” He murmurs.
“I needed your help choosing which shoes I should take.” You hide your face in his neck and lay one tiny kiss on it, “You’re mean.”
“Am I?” Jungkook brings you down with him when he slowly lays back on the bed. He tosses his phone somewhere and rests his arm behind his head. His free hand strokes your backside, cheekily stopping right above your ass before repeating.
Your hands settle over his toned stomach where his shirt has ridden up revealing his beautiful physique underneath. His damn Calvin Klein boxers hug him just right too, hanging low over his hips where a small amount of hair leads down…you know where..
“Mm-hm, ‘s not nice to ignore me.” You nod with a dreamy look, pillowy lips pursed (which make them much more alluring in Jungkook’s humble opinion).
Jungkook hums again and runs his hand over your ass, landing small little pats of appreciation here ‘n there, “It isn’t huh,” he trails off quietly while tattooed fingers make work of the bow tied around the front of your shorts.
You shake your head and come down so that you’re chest to chest with Jungkook, face leveled with his as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. “No,” you softly say, nimble fingers creeping under his shirt to trail up his middle with light feathery touches.
“No.” He softly mimics in a high-pitched tone that’s meant to sound like you, “You’re so fuckin’ cute, but you might wanna get a move on though cause the guys are gonna be here any minute now ‘n you don’t want them to come in and see what a desperate little thing you are? No huh,” he mock pouts while tapping your cheek.
“You’re mean! I’m not talking to you for ten whole minutes.” You huff angrily and get off his lap, “Stop laughing, it's not funny.” You’re whining again before you can even stop yourself. It makes him double over in laughter, shoulders shaking and all too.
“My bad, my bad, I didn’t realize you were still upset over the shoes.” He chuckles while sitting back up with messy hair, “C’mere I’ll make it better.” He waves his hand, “C’mere! I’m not joking!” He laughs because you look at him incredulously.
You fold your arms over your chest and turn away, “No, I have to pack remember?” You’re shoving clothes into your suitcase with a quiet huff.
“Yeah, yeah.” You don’t even notice when he comes up behind and hauls you up into his arms. Jungkook tosses you on the bed like nothing causing you to yelp in surprise as your body bounces off the mattress a little, “If I give you a kiss will you quit your fuckin’ pouting?” He smirks.
You nod vigorously, “I want one here, here, and here.” You tap different areas on your face.
“I said one, not fucking five,” he snorts while peppering your face in small smooches regardless because he could never resist a pretty girl like you, “dumb little thing you are.”
“They don’t count as real kisses.” You smugly reply.
Jungkook smirks, “Oh, and what does hm? Give your Jungkookie a kiss and show me.” Without hesitating you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.
You’re lips locked, softly moaning as he kisses the fuck out of you. It’s the way his lips glide over yours so smoothly like you’re meant to be kissing. All you can really do is dreamily sigh while his tongue runs over the seam of your lips. Of course you let him in and the kiss gets filthier if possible.
You feel his hand slide up your back slowly until he’s hooking his finger under the strap of your flimsy sleep top. He watches in hunger as your tit slips out from under the top, perky nipple already hard as he leans down to wrap his lips around it. The pleasure is hot when his tongue presses down on the bud, he has you whimpering quietly while burying your fingers through his hair.
“Mmm–Jungkook, wait,” you breathlessly sigh while pushing his face away, “Sujin.” You softly say while playing with his hair, “What ‘bout her?”
Jungkook stares back up at you through hooded eyes, “Who?” He replies to which you grin back, “Hm, just let me enjoy your tits in peace.” He crudely mumbles before taking your nipple back into his hot mouth.
He fondles and squeezes your other tit while sucking on your rather sensitive teat. The heat between your legs is unbearable, Jungkook knew damn well why you hated having your nipples played with yet he carried on without a care. Your poor clit throbbed from neglect and your pussy was slicking up by the second, you fear a glob would slip out if he dared to switch your positions.
“J-Jungkook..!” You huff and press your thighs together hoping to alleviate some of the heat.
He pinches hard causing you to whine, it doesn’t stop him because he’s then using a hint of teeth on your sensitive bud. “Oh..!” Your mouth falls open and your back arches off the bed, thighs shaky and wobbly.
Jungkook pulls away with a string of slick connecting to your nipple, “Turn over baby,” he smacks your ass hard and jiggles your cheek, “arch that pretty back for me, yeahh like that—low.” He darkly comments while watching you turn over with your hips raised high and front flat to the bed.
He shuffles around and gets behind you holding you steady with a hand to your hip. “Pull ‘em to the side,” he says while lazily pushing his sweats down, shoving them low enough till they’re right under his balls, “How desperate are you, hm? How bad do you want this cock baby?” He grins while slapping the tip through your dewy sticky folds.
You bite your lip and reach behind you to hold yourself open for him, “Bad, need it so bad Jungkookie..feel so empty without it.” You pout while pushing back until his cock gets trapped between your thighs, the thick shaft pressing right up against your throbbing little clit.
“Yeah?” Jungkook licks his lips, “Gonna let me have it?” He murmurs as his cock slides through the mess between your thighs, globs of slick coating the shaft.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a rough smack to your ass, “Push me in baby.”
You reach back to rub his cock through your folds, tapping the tip against your needy hole until it catches. Your breath hitches as the tip pops in, he doesn’t make a move to shove himself deeper or anything—he stays perfectly still.
“Jungkook!” You turn to glare back at him, “S-Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not doing anything, if you want it you know what to do.” Jungkook grins while biting his lip, “You know what I wanna see baby, don’t play dumb.”
You grumble under your breath and slowly push your hips back until your ass meets his pelvis. There’s a low squelch as the rest of his cock slips in and as much as you would’ve loved for him to fuck you, this was also good. You pant hotly into the pillow and wiggle around with soft little ‘mm’s as Jungkook rubs his hand over your hip and holds you steady.
“There you go, bring it back for me,” he huskily mumbles while watching the ripple of your cheeks jiggle each time your ass meets his pelvis.
Little clapping noises begin to rise subtly as your pace gets quicker and quicker. You meet him thrust for thrust, there’s a low fopping sound as his balls make contact with your puckered lips, pressing right up against you each time you bottom out.
Jungkook’s eyes are glued to the sight of your pretty pink rim hugging his cock tight each time he backstrokes. His cock is covered in a sheen of slick and he swears every time he pushes back in he comes back out with more.
“So messy,” he lays his thumb over your other puckered hole, “hear that?” He grunts, “Sloppy lil cunt taking me so well, got you creaming for me.”
Jungkook’s breath hitches when his thumb accidentally slips through the tight barrier and into your ass. You loudly mewl and buck your hips in surprise, it doesn’t hurt but it feels weird..weird in a good way though.
“Oh, you like that don’t you?” He licks his lips, “Baby loves having her holes filled up doesn’t she?”
You moan in response and bury your face in the pillow with muffled cries. The pleasure shoots up your spine and has you curling in on yourself. Your cunt throbs like crazy now and everything somehow feels ten times better than before.
“Answer me.” Jungkook slaps your cheek rather hard.
“Mmph–y-yes..!” You whimper despite the pillow being in your mouth.
“Yea,” he laughs as he suddenly snaps his hips up, “you love it don’t you? Can’t get enough of this cock.” He plows into you with repeated thrusts, each one jostling you up the bed and sending you into a pleasure hazed mind.
Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as Jungkook grips you by the hip with one hand and slams you back onto his cock. Your toes curl from the intensity of his cock slamming into your g-spot while his thumb fills your ass. The heat coiling in your tummy has you squirming and whimpering.
“Too much? Where you goin?” You don’t realize you’re actively moving away from him till his cock threatens to slip out, “You can take it baby, don’t run.” He laughs low while dragging you right back onto his cock.
In fact he follows you down till you’re laying flat on the bed and his thumb slips out of your puckered hole, “Gonna cum? Hm?” He lays flat over your back and hooks his chin over your shoulder, “C’mon, don’t go stupid on me.” He smacks your cheek gently a couple of times.
“Yes..!” You gasp breathily, “S-So, so close..” Your voice sounds wobbly and garbled, and the shaking in your thighs doesn’t stop.
Jungkook coos, “So close,” he buries his face in the side of your neck and leaves marks of his own there, “go on, cum on this dick.”
Your lips part and you let out a high-pitched mewl, your pussy spasms around him with your cunt squeezing and massaging his cock. Your eyes slip shut and you slump against the bed with a whine, the orgasm took the life out of you.
“Fuuckk,” he sighs as he slows down, grinding his cock in and out of the mess between your thighs, “good girl,” he groans softly until he comes to a stop and stills.
His cock throbs and twitches, spurt after spurt of cum filling you to the brim. You can feel some of it slide out with globs of your own slick. Jungkook hums deeply and gives your ass a pat of appreciation, “Shower?” He asks softly.
“Mm-hmm.” You nod still face down in the sheets.
“Mm-hm.” Jungkook copies while laughing to himself as he slips out of your cunt with a lewd squelch. You don’t even have the energy to fight with him right now, you’re just ready for bed at this point.
+
You can’t help the little yawn that escapes as you turn your face to tuck yourself into Jungkook’s side. Whose idea was it to take a roadtrip to Busan, you don’t know but you’re barely even awake after that rough fucking.
You and Jungkook had opted to sit in the back away from everyone and enjoy each other’s company instead. Jungkook’s hand came to rest over your thigh like that’s his permanent spot.
So far the ride is peaceful, Yoongi’s managed to successfully get you all out of the city and onto the highway (thanks to Namjoon’s excellent navigation skills). In front of you Jimin’s knocked out while Taehyung watches something on his phone. Namjoon’s talking with Yoongi about something you can’t bring yourself to care for.
You can feel your eyelids getting heavier by the second and it feels like you’re about to slip into the best sleep ever when Jungkook stops you. Not literally, but it still feels like it with the way he slides his hand up your bare thigh.
“Hm?” You sleepily look up wondering what on Earth he was up to now.
Jungkook pats you, “C’mere, want you on my lap baby.” He mutters as quietly as he can.
You rub your eyes and slip yourself on to his lap, tucking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing your thighs on either side of him. God bless that you chose to wear your thin sleeping shorts and slutty juicy sweater, Jungkook can just about feel your perky tits through the soft material.
“Shh.. not a peep or else I’m gonna gag you with your panties.” He mumbles low in your ear, stroking over your back to keep you calm.
“Jungkookie–”
“Jungkookie needs you to shut the fuck up, can you do that for me?” He squeezes your ass and kneads both cheeks rather roughly, “Good girl.”
“If they look, I’m not stopping. So if I were you I’d keep quiet baby, unless you want Joon and them to know how much of a cock hungry slut you are.”
He sounds so fucking calm but his words are the complete opposite, you find yourself holding in your desperate whines. “Can you..?”
“Can I what?” He slips his hand under your shorts and tugs it to the side alongside your panties, “Hm?”
You bite your lip and lift your hips, “Want something in me, I feel so empty Kook..” You breathe out and wrap your arms around his neck.
Through the drowsiness you faintly make out his soft curses as he whispers under his breath. Jungkook pokes at your slit and slips his fingers through your messy folds.
“Take my cock out,” he mumbles and you happily reach between the two of you to slip your hand into his sweats.
His cock throbs when your soft hand wraps around it, he has to bite his lip when you dig your thumb into the slit and swipe over the messy head. “Don’t tease..” He grunts with a small sharp smack to your ass.
You lift your hips and with his help manage to slip his cock through your dewy folds. You blindly slap the tip against your slicked up hole, the tip catching on your rim.
“Slow,” he sounds calm and collected but the way he swallows harshly tells you otherwise.
You bite your moans back and push yourself until your ass is meeting his thighs. The heat in your belly pools and your poor clit throbs. Is it you or the car feels hotter?
You hide your face in his neck and suck over old and new hickeys you’ve left these past days. Jungkook relaxes into the seat and sighs, luckily it doesn’t sound like it’s out of the ordinary.
“You can sleep now.” Jungkook off-handedly mumbles while closing his eyes, leaving you utterly speechless. You’re not entirely surprised given his little track record of being mean and shit.
“G’night..” You softly mumble and kiss his cheek, you lay your head on his shoulder and close your eyes. Maybe if you’re a good girl he’ll make you cum later on..yeah, that sounds amazing, you smile in your sleep and drift off into dreamland with a cunt full of cock.
.
“So hot..” You softly mumble while fanning yourself with a make-shift fan.
Everyone but Namjoon went out today to explore the town and shit. You opted to stay back and wait for the sun to die down to go out later. Namjoon said something about keeping you company so you didn’t mind.
Here you are laying on the ground with your legs thrown up on the couch over Namjoon’s lap. Your pretty babydoll dress rides up your thighs and you occasionally catch Namjoon’s gaze drifting down. What a sight is it to see—veiny big hands plastered over your soft ankles toying with your cherry charm anklet.
“Namjoon, if penguins are related to the bird family, how come they can't fly?” You softly say while looking at him through your lashes.
“I dunno,” He shrugs while stroking over your foot, “environmental and evolutionary reasons maybe?”
You pout and tilt your head back to watch the TV, “I think they’re cute.”
“Why don’t you find one and give it a kiss then?” Namjoon smirks in amusement, “Maybe Jungkookie can save you if it tries to attack you or something.”
“Not funny.” You whine kicking your sock-clad foot at him, but he catches it and tugs on your foot.
You squeal softly as he ends up dragging you upwards just a tiny bit, “Owie let go, you’re squeezing my freaking bone.” You giggle.
Namjoon lets your foot go with a laugh, “My bad, my bad.” He raises his hands in surrender, “You can tell your Jungkookie to kiss it all better when he comes back yeah?” He grins.
“Ugh you’re also mean.” You huff while sitting up feeling light headed cause you were laying on the ground for so long. “You and Jungkook.” You mumble and climb onto the couch with him.
Jungkook finds you two like that. You’re tangled up with Namjoon side by side, legs thrown over his lap as he strokes over your soft thigh. Namjoon’s mindlessly scrolling through his phone and you’re just you watching some animal documentary on the TV.
“Hey.” Jungkook greets while falling on another sofa.
“Back already,” Namjoon hums, “where’s the others?”
“Out, they went to the beach cause Jimin wanted to go. It was fuckin’ hot so I came back, we didn’t do much but walk around the tour shops and shit.”
You lift a leg in the air to admire your pretty anklet, “Did you bring me anything?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, it’s in the bag.” Jungkook replies calmly as he fishes his phone out and does whatever the hell he usually does on that thing.
With both men preoccupied with their phones you decide to head outside to sunbathe. God bless the airbnb for having a private pool. “Where you going?” Jungkook mumbles, not looking up from his screen.
“Sunbathing.” You curtly reply and head outside through the large patio doors.
It’s hot as hell but you don’t care as you kick your socks off and strip out of your babydoll dress. You happily lay your towel out on the grass and set up a mini umbrella. Once you're happy with your setup you lay on your back and slip your heart shaped glasses on.
You can hear Namjoon and Jungkook talking in the background faintly, something about Sujin but you honestly don’t bring yourself to care much. Along the lines Jungkook mentions Sujin texting him again, Namjoon says “oh shit really” and then Jungkook tells him everything.
“..giving… chance… again..?” You can’t make out the entire convo. You crack a slow smile and turn over on your belly, legs kicked up and your feet in the air as you call out to the boys.
“Can someone bring me my phone?” Your voice soft and velvety, you slip your glasses up on your head and flutter your lashes, “Please?”
Jungkook stops talking and looks over the coffee table before stepping out with your phone in hand. “Look at you all cute and shit, enjoying your sunbathing?” Jungkook asks as he squats down in front of you.
“Yep, it’d be funner if you and Joonie joined me though.” You softly hum while tilting your head up and letting Jungkook lay a kiss over your soft lips.
“Yeah..?” He murmurs low. It’s glaringly obvious you have this man wrapped around your little fingers. It’s like you didn’t even have to try with him.
“I’ll be right back.” He says and disappears into the house.
You roll over on your back with a satisfied smile, slipping your glasses back on as you hum, “The boy is mine, I can’t wait to try him,”
+
Maybe Jungkook’s the one trying you right now. It’s not even nine am yet..
Your thighs encase his head like a pair of soft earmuffs, he’s got his tongue dipped between your messy folds with your pussy stuffed in his face. Jungkook doesn’t seem to care though, he’s got his strong big arms wrapped around your thighs as he holds you down and makes you take it.
Your clit’s just as sensitive as every other part of you, and Jungkook just loves to make you shake. He traces the tip of his tongue over your sensitive bud, flicking it back and forth with quick strokes. It has your lips parting and your head leaning back from the cloudy pleasure.
“Oh..” You roll your hips upward into his eager mouth, something that greatly pleases Jungkook.
He slips his tongue lower and flicks it upward to get a taste of all that creamy slick gushing from your empty cunt. You slap a hand over your mouth and whimper when he goes back to your poor clit. This time though he wraps his lips around it and gives it a harsh, mean suck.
Jungkook flicks his dark eyes up to look at you, just watching as you lose yourself on his tongue. The way your tummy goes taut and your body stiff when he grazes his teeth over your clit sends a dark thrill down his spine. He wants to see more, so he’s going to get more.
“J-Jungkook!” You cry out as he stuffs his fingers knuckle deep into your pussy.
There’s a loud squelch each time he slaps his fingers up into your greedy cunt. Your pussy’s literally leaking as small dribbles of squirt oozes out with each passing second. You’re shaking, thighs struggling to stay open and not clamp down on his head. Your lower half shakes slightly from his rough movements and your pussy makes these nasty wet sounds.
“Wait,” you sob and reach down to grip his hair, “ ‘m so close..! P-Please, please,” you’re not sure what you’re begging for—go, stop?
The heat in your tummy builds quickly and you’re teetering on the edge of a powerful orgasm when he suddenly stops. All at once both his fingers and mouth are gone as he pulls away while harshly panting. You can’t even complain but the intensity has your heart racing with excitement and fear.
“Okay?” He quietly asks while stroking your thigh gently.
You take a couple of seconds to catch your breath, meekly nodding as you bite your lip, “ ‘m okay.” You softly reply.
He climbs up the bed and hovers over you, necklace dangling in your face as you stare up at him with glossy eyes. “Kiss?” You softly say while parting your pillowy soft lips. He’s very much happy to oblige of course..
You lazily make out, your lips feel swollen and they’re glossy from spit. He doesn’t let you pull away, he’s quick to chase after your lips and reel you back in with a hand to the back of your neck. His hand tightly grips your hair and teasingly tugs because he knows you’re a little slut for it.
You moan into his mouth and needily press yourself closer to him, hooking your thigh over his hip just so you could press your needy pussy against him. Everything feels hot and you don’t like it, Jungkook’s not helping with the way he drops his other hand down to your ass cheek, gripping it tight and using his grip to yank you even closer.
Body to body, you’re rolling your hips up to feel the tent in his boxers. It’s mouth watering when the curve of his thick cock presses into your inner thigh, so close to where you need him the most..
Jungkook tightens his grip on your hip, it’s bruising even as he presses himself into you and rubs his cock over your soaked pussy. The rough friction has your toes curling and another needy gasp escaping. He pulls away from the kiss with a wild look in his eye, he pants quietly as he shoves his boxers off and tosses them somewhere.
“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he holds his heavy cock in his hand, stroking over it slowly as he looks down at your glistening cunt, “just like that..” He mumbles darkly.
You hook your arms around your thighs and pull them up to your chest so that your pussy is laid out bare for him. You bite your lip in anticipation and try your best to stay still when he taps the tip over your swollen clit.
“Look so pretty like this,” he muses as he slips his cock in inch by inch, “prettier down here too.” He grins as he lays his thumb over your clit and rubs it side to side slowly.
You let out a long “mm” as his cock fills you over and over again, filling you in the right places combined with his gentle strokes over your clit. He’s got you dripping even more as his cock re-surfaces covered with your creamy slick.
Jungkook rolls his hips into yours slowly, you can hear the quiet grunts and moans slip from his lips as he remains focused on the spot where you’re connected. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his thumb becomes jerky as he messily swipes over your bud.
You get the urge to ride the fuck out of him, he’s been nothing but doting and now you want to return the favor. Always the giver but never the receiver, and you’re going to change that.
“Jungkookie,” you softly sigh as his eyes snap up to your face, “wanna ride you,” you pout, “can I pretty please?” You purposely squeeze around his cock as he back strokes slowly.
“Yeah,” he softly breathes out and lifts you up into his lap as he switches places with you.
You huff as his cock somehow slips deeper in the new position, “No, you lay back and let me do it.” His eyes widened slightly at your demanding tone, “I wanna make you feel good too..” You pout and wiggle around in his lap.
Jungkook bites his lip and lets his hand fall to your thighs, “Fuck–okay, yeah,” he lays his head back on the pillow and swallows harshly as you smile down at him and lay a soft kiss on his lips.
“Fuck,” he groans when you turn around in his lap to ride him reverse cowgirl. He lays his hands over the fat of your ass and smacks each cheek repeatedly while you grind yourself in his lap.
Your moans spill from your lips as you arch your back and roll your hips back and forth. Behind you Jungkook sounds like he’s having the time of his life as he holds your ass tightly in both hands. The noises he makes only fuel your desire more as you rock yourself in his lap.
“Mm–fills me up so good,” you tilt your head back with a teasing smile, “can feel it so deep in my pussy.”
Jungkook growls low and spanks you harder, “Yeah? You like knowing you’re the only one taking my cock like this huh,” he smirks, “ ‘s all yours baby.”
You huff softly and look at him over your shoulder with puppy eyes, “Mine only.” You nod, “Not hers,” you roughly slap your hips back, catching him off guard as he grunts, “Right?”
“Only you.” Jungkook sighs as he tugs you back so that you’re grinding over his cock the way he likes, “Always yours.” He murmurs.
You smile happily and begin bouncing in his lap, your ass claps against his pelvis as low fopping noises build up. The bed creaks a little and your skin smacks together as you get a little wild with it.
Your moans rise in volume alongside his as the two of you lose yourselves in your rough fucking. Your pussy clamps down when the tip of his cock brushes over your g-spot repeatedly. You have to put your hands on the bed for support as you whimper and grind quickly on his lap.
“F-Fuck..” You whimper low as your thighs begin to tremble again.
Jungkook throws his head back with a low groan as he holds your hips tightly, “Fuck keep going baby, almost there,” he whispers breathlessly, “you can do it.”
You let out a cry and slam yourself on his lap until you go still as your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. It’s mind blowing as your cunt tightens up and a wave of hot pleasure comes crashing down on you. You shake in his lap and whimper out a garbled version of his name.
Jungkook quietly moans as he holds you still and bucks his hips up a couple of times until he’s filling you with his cum. His cock twitches and pulses through his orgasm, dully reminding you that you’re on planet earth still and you need to come down from your high.
“My pussy hurts.” You softly whine while looking back at him.
“My pussy hurts,” he mocks softly, “but who just got the dicking of their life hm? You did.” He pokes your cheeks and brings you back so that you’re laying with him, “You okay?” He chuckles.
You hide your face in his neck and nod, “Nap now, food later?” You softly ask.
“Yeah, I like the sound of that.” He grins.
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3verythingiknowaboutlove · 3 months ago
Text
the limit does not exist!
how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.
MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgent…like REALLY self indulgent… hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!
You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest. 
Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But there’s something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet. 
A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.
You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.
What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencer’s birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.
You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.
“Teach me calculus,” you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencer’s lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him. 
“I thought we agreed on an hour.”
“Yeah. But it wouldn’t be a very productive hour if I didn’t know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.” 
He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him. 
“What do you not understand?” You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.
“Related rates. Like, conceptually.” 
Spencer hums in response.
“It’s October. You’re not even supposed to know related rates yet.”
“Fine. Then let's open presents,” you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.
“No. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going from…let’s say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-”
“That wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,” you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.
“For the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.”
You roll your eyes.
“Hey,” he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. “Don’t do that. Don’t be difficult. I’m helping you.”
“Sorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I don’t really get why I’m learning this as a whole.” Spencer’s eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.
“Calculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,” Spencer says simply. “Einstein once said that, ‘Pure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,’ which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.”
You cuddle deeper in his lap.
“Think he would agree with that?” you ask. “I do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.” Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.
“I think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, ‘Gravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.’ He said, ‘How on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.’”
Spencer takes a deep breath.
“Math doesn’t explain how I love you. It can’t. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.”
You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.
… 
Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.
You’re now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam. 
“I really like it. You look great. Do you like it?” you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.
“I’m gonna wear it to work tomorrow.” 
You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.
“You’re so pretty,” he mutters.
He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, he’s just in his boxers.
“You’re the pretty one,” you say quietly. “Come to bed.” He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. “Happy birthday, Spence. I love you.” He dips his forehead to your shoulder.
“I love you.”
Before you know it, he’s shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what he’s doing.
“What? No, I was gonna do that. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to,” you protest.
“But I really, really want to, darling girl,” he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.
You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready. 
“Well. Um. Okay. If you insist. I can’t really deny the birthday boy.” Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday. 
He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes. 
“You know you can, though, right?” he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly. 
“Yeah. I know.”
Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it. 
“Soft,” he murmurs, like he’s making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. “All this from a few kisses?” 
You blush, unable to respond. 
Spencer’s fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. “These?” he checks.
“Yes, please,” you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.
“How many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.
“Fuck,” you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate. 
It’s not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. You’re both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans. 
“Spencer,” you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. “You’re too far away.” He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.
After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so you’re propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so he’s more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.
His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.
You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. “Holy shit, I love you,” you murmur.
His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. “Angel,” he breathes out, so quietly. “I love you too. This okay? Are you okay?”
You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesn’t even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.
He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. “There we go. You always feel like heaven around me.”
Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth. 
“You’re so perfect,” you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.
You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.
Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.
This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?
This is how he sees you?
The thought is almost too much.
Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. “Take a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?”
You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. “Baby,” he coos softly at you.
It wasn’t just your sensitivity he’s currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.
You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis. 
“Spencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,” you say eventually, overstimulated.
“You’re okay. Did so good.” he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you. 
His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.
“Don’t cry, you always cry. It’s my birthday. Don’t cry on my birthday,” he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.
“I’m not.” 
Another one falls. 
You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. “I’m not crying.”
Spencer lets you lie.
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finelinefae · 3 months ago
Text
safety [ceo!h x shy!reader]
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synopsis: harry is always there to help bambi, always.
word count: 5.4k
contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, fluff, age gap (9 years), harry meets the family, crybaby reader lowkey
a/n: apologies for this taking so long. I've moved into university and switched courses within three weeks so I've had to do a lot of adjusting! But I hope you're doing well, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part of bambi and being so patient with this part <333
this is part 2 of bambi, read part 1 here
. . .
Y/N sighed as she stepped into the living room, her heart sinking at the sight of her mother passed out on the couch. It was Friday night, and her mom was still in her work uniform, one shoe barely hanging from her foot while the other lay haphazardly across the room. A wave of frustration and sadness hit her hard. She had begged her mom to take the day off to watch the boys so she could go on her date with Harry tonight—the date she’d been looking forward to all week.
This was supposed to be their third date, just before she started working with him at Pleasing this weekend. Their last date had been simple—strolling hand in hand by the river, talking about everything and nothing. But tonight was different. Harry had told her to dress up; he had something important to ask her and was taking her somewhere special. Y/N had been buzzing with excitement ever since.
Glancing at her phone, she felt the sting of tears. Halfway through her makeup, she now realized it didn’t matter—she’d have to cancel. With her mother out cold and no babysitter available at such short notice, the responsibility fell on her. And it was ruining everything.
She opened Harry’s contact on her phone, staring at the little pink heart next to his name. Her thumb hovered over the call button as doubt crept in. What if he never wanted to see her again after this? Cancelling last minute was embarrassing, and she dreaded how angry or disappointed Harry might be.
Her thumb pressed down, the ringing growing louder with each second. Anxiety gnawed at her as she picked at the skin around her nails.
Suddenly, the call connected, and Harry’s voice, smooth and soothing like a lullaby, poured through the speaker. “Bambi? Was jus’ about to pick y’ up. You missin’ me already?”
Her lip trembled, and a tear slid down her cheek as she sniffled. “Harry…” Her voice cracked.
“Hey, what’s wrong, love?” Concern filled his voice instantly, and the warmth of it made her chest tighten.
“I-I can’t go on our date tonight,” she confessed, her voice shaky.
“What d’you mean? Don’t be silly, is something wrong?” His slight panic was clear, making her feel even worse.
“No, it’s not like that. It’s just… my mom came home late, and she’s, um, not able to watch the boys, so I have to stay and babysit. I’m really sorry, Harry. I wanted to go tonight, I swear. I understand if you’re mad or—if you never want to see me again—”
“Woah, woah, Bambi, baby, stop panickin’. I don’t hate you, not at all. It’s closer to the opposite, so calm down, yeah? ‘M not goin’ anywhere.”
“Okay,” she whispered, her voice still thick with emotion. “Y’promise?”
“Five pinkie swears, baby,” he chuckled softly, making her giggle through the tears. “It’s alright. These things happen. But are you okay? Need me to grab you anything? Have y’eaten today?”
His kindness made her heart swell. “N-No, but we’ve got stuff in the freezer I can heat up. Maybe we can reschedule?”
“Bambi, I’m already on my way to your house.”
Her breath hitched. “What? But, Harry, I can’t—”
“You think I’d let a little change of plans stop me from seein’ you? Been needin’ to see m’Bambi all day. How ‘bout this: you help your mum, and I’ll come by and make dinner for all of you. Sound good?”
Her heart skipped a beat. Was he real? Was he really this thoughtful, this willing to come over despite everything?
“Harry, you don’t have to—”
“I want to. Now, go get in some comfy pjs, and I’ll stop by the store to grab snacks. Maybe we can watch a movie later. Does that sound good?”
“Yeah,” she said, her voice lighter now. “That sounds perfect.”
“Alright, I’ll be over in thirty minutes. Take a deep breath for me, Bambi.”
Immediate relief washed over her at the idea of having an extra pair of hands to help her with something that she’d normally be left alone to and better yet it was Harry who was coming to help her. So, she did exactly that - breathe. 
. . . 
Y/N was pushing clothes into the washing machine when she heard the doorbell ring. Her heart skipped a beat or possibly maybe two when she heard it. She forced the door shut on the machine and walked to the front door. She frowned the closer she got when she could already hear Harry’s voice but that was soon followed by the voice of her younger brother. 
“I know jujitsu, you know,” Archie announced, his small five-foot frame blocking the doorway.
“You take classes?” Harry asked, bemused.
“No, I learned it on Roblox,” Archie replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ve heard of that one before. You’ll have to show me sometime,” Harry said with a grin.
Archie snorted. “You could just be saying that to get into our house and rob us.”
Y/N’s face heated with embarrassment as she approached the door, ushering Archie out of the way. Harry’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw her. “Y/N, this pizza delivery guy is trying to break into our house,” Archie said. Y/N looked to see Harry holding two pizza boxes and a plastic bag.
“Archie,” Y/N gasped, “this is not a pizza delivery man. This is Harry.”
Harry smiled, clearly trying not to laugh, and offered Archie a small wave. It did nothing to ease the suspicious look on Archie’s face. “Who’s Harry?”
Y/N froze, unsure of how to answer. Harry was both her boss and the man she was dating, but she couldn’t exactly explain that to her little brother. “He’s... my special friend.”
Archie looked between them for a moment, then shrugged and wandered off. Y/N’s shoulders sagged with relief as she turned to face Harry, who was still grinning at her. He looked incredibly handsome in his matching brown suit, his curly hair tousled in that familiar way. Her heart sank a little, knowing he had dressed up for their date.
“H-Harry, I’m really sorry—” she began, but before she could finish, Harry set the pizza boxes down and pulled her into a tight embrace. She breathed in the fruity scent of his cologne as he gently rubbed circles on her back.
“Bambi,” he murmured with a soft sigh, “I missed you.”
She smiled against his chest. “You just saw me the other day, and we FaceTimed last night.”
Harry pulled back slightly, cupping her cheeks with his large hands. “Kiss?”
Her cheeks flushed, as they always did when he asked for a kiss. She stood on her toes, meeting his lips, savouring the softness of his touch and the faint taste of peppermint from his lip balm. 
“Have you eaten yet?” he murmured against her lips. “I brought pizza.”
“You didn’t have to,” Y/N sighed softly. “I was just going to throw something in the oven.”
“Hey, Bambi.” She looked up, meeting his gaze already fixed on her. “I wanted to. I’m here to help, okay? Now, why don’t we eat this before it gets cold? You grab some plates, and I’ll set the table.”
“O-Oh, okay.” She nodded, a bit flustered. “Just so you know, my brothers can be… intense.”
Harry smiled, his expression easygoing. “It’s okay, I’ve got a niece. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
Y/N led him into the living room where her little brothers were scattered. Archie sat in the corner, hunched over the computer, likely playing the game he had mentioned to Harry earlier.
“Who are you?” a small voice piped up. Harry glanced down to see a boy around six or seven, looking at him curiously.
“That’s Y/N’s special friend,” Archie chimed in without even turning around from his game.
“Weren’t you the guy making out with my sister the other night?” The eldest of the three boys, who looked about fourteen, spoke up from where he was watching TV. Despite his age, there was a maturity in his tone that caught Harry off guard.
Harry chuckled, feeling Y/N stiffen beside him. He gave the teenager a polite smile. “Well, I guess that’s one way to put it.”
“Sammy go and get the plates from the kitchen, Harry bought us pizza.” Sammy huffed, pausing the tv and doing exactly as his sister said. 
“Jack, can you grab an extra chair?” Y/N asked the youngest boy, her voice gentle but firm. Harry watched as the boys immediately followed their eldest sister’s instructions without question. A small pang tugged at his chest—part of him felt for her, having to shoulder the responsibility of looking after three growing boys. He didn’t know every detail of her family life, but seeing the way they interacted was enough to tell him they’d had to adapt quickly.
They all gathered around the table, two extra-large pizzas laid out in front of them. Harry chuckled at the sight of the boys eyeing the food like it was a rare treasure.
“Calm down,” he murmured with a grin, leaning close to Y/N. “Y’ so stiff, Bambi.”
Y/N blushed, fidgeting slightly. “Sorry, I just get so—”
“So?” Harry interrupted, smirking as he tried to coax her into a fluster. “So what, baby?”
“So nervous,” Y/N huffed, her cheeks burning as she realized he was toying with her.
A throat cleared from across the table, and Y/N suddenly felt three pairs of eyes locked onto them. Jack and Archie looked disgusted by the couple’s banter, while the eldest boy, Sammy, was glaring at Harry with an intensity that made Harry suppress a laugh.
“How old are you?” Sammy asked bluntly, his gaze sharp and protective.
Y/N choked on her drink. “Sammy! You can’t just ask people that—it’s rude!”
Harry chuckled, raising a hand to calm her. “No, it’s alright,” he said, amused. “I’m thirty.”
“Whoa, you’re old!” Archie blurted out, eyes wide with surprise.
“Archie!” Y/N gasped, mortified, while Jack burst out laughing.
“I guess it is kind of old,” Harry shrugged playfully, glancing at Y/N with a wink.
“Are you rich?” Sammy pressed, undeterred.
Y/N’s face flushed even more, praying the ground would open up and swallow her whole.
“I do well,” Harry replied, keeping his tone light. “I own a fashion company.”
“That means he’s rich,” Archie chimed in, eyes lighting up. “Do you have a sports car?”
Harry leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, “I own three.”
Archie gasped, his face a picture of awe. “No wonder you can afford two extra-large pizzas!”
“If you think that’s cool, wait till you hear what else I brought,” Harry teased.
“Candy?” Archie’s eyes grew even wider, filled with excitement.
“Better.”
“Ice cream?”
Harry nodded. “Ice cream, candy, whipped cream, chocolate sprinkles... you name it.”
Archie looked as though he might pass out from pure joy. Sweets after dinner weren’t a common occurrence in their house unless it was a special occasion.
Harry’s smile softened as his eyes flicked to Sammy, who was still watching him with guarded suspicion. “What do you want from my sister?” Sammy finally asked, his tone sharp.
Y/N cringed, wishing she could disappear like Jack, who was contentedly munching on pizza, completely oblivious to the tension. Her cheeks were already burning before she’d even taken a bite.
Harry’s hand found its way to her knee under the table, a silent reassurance that he knew exactly how she was feeling without her having to say a word.
“It’s still early,” Harry said honestly, his gaze meeting Sammy’s without faltering. “But I really, really like your sister.”
Sammy seemed to relax at that, but not without a final warning. “You’re not allowed to like her as much as we do.”
Y/N’s heart squeezed at the words. Despite the challenges, the boys were her world, her best friends.
Harry smiled warmly, his voice sincere. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
. . .
"Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!" Archie came barreling into the kitchen, his face smeared with chocolate and whipped cream from the ice cream sundaes they’d made earlier. Y/N was bent over the washing machine, pulling out clothes to hang on the makeshift line by the window.
"Harry says he's gonna take us to the indoor waterpark in the city for my birthday! Isn't that awesome? And he beat Sammy's score on the new game he bought us!"
Y/N glanced up, smiling softly at Archie's excitement. The boys had been glued to the computer for hours after Harry surprised them with a game they’d been begging for. The sound of their wild laughter had echoed through the house all afternoon.
Footsteps approached the kitchen, and she looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"Harry, I was just telling Y/N about the waterpark you’re taking us to," Archie said eagerly.
Harry’s eyes flicked to Y/N. "Ah, yes," he said, smiling at her. "I heard there’s a certain someone’s birthday coming up soon."
Archie's birthday was still a month away, and Y/N had only planned a simple celebration—movies, takeout, and cake. As Archie bolted from the kitchen, beaming about the waterpark, Y/N’s smile faded slightly.
Harry noticed the shift immediately. "What’s wrong?" he asked, stepping closer and reaching for her hand. "Did I mess something up?"
"N-no," Y/N replied quickly, shaking her head. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just... Archie's birthday isn’t for another month."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "So?"
Y/N hesitated, her words stumbling over themselves. "I just don’t want to make promises, you know, in case… I mean, what if…" She trailed off, struggling to find a way to express the growing anxiety in her chest. She adored Harry, more than she could articulate, but a part of her couldn’t help worrying about the future—the uncertainties that came with letting someone new into their lives.
"Bambi," Harry’s voice was soft as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing her cheek. "Where’d you go?"
She blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
His lips quirked into a gentle smile. "Y’ do this thing where you space out, like your mind drifts off somewhere else ‘cause you're thinkin’ too much."
"I do that?" she asked, surprised.
"Mhm," he murmured, his thumb tracing the little furrow in her brow, the touch sending warmth through her. "I like you an awful lot, Bambi. I plan on stickin' around for a long time."
"You do?" Her voice was small, almost disbelieving.
"Yes, I do. And I really like your brothers—they’re a credit to you."
Y/N opened her mouth to deflect, as usual. "Oh, you mean my mom—"
"No," Harry interrupted gently, shaking his head. "I mean you."
Her lips parted in surprise, her eyes misting over. She hadn’t expected that. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words. Without thinking, she leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a kiss filled with the gratitude she couldn't quite express in words.
She was about to pull away, but Harry held her close, his hands gripping her hips as he deepened the kiss. His soft, warm lips made her head spin, and for a brief moment, the world around them disappeared.
That is, until Sammy’s voice rang out from the hallway. "I’m coming in, so you better not be swapping saliva in there!"
Harry broke the kiss with a chuckle, glancing over his shoulder. "Alright, alright, we’re behaving," he teased, winking at Y/N before moving to the sink. "Let me help you," he offered, turning on the faucet to start washing the dishes from dinner.
Y/N watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with warmth. The words he’d spoken earlier echoed in her mind—words that had already begun to feel familiar, but only when they came from him.
. . .
Y/N woke up the following morning, not from the alarm she’d set for 6 a.m., but from the rapid thumping of her heart. Anxiety rippled through her, making her stomach twist with nerves. Today was her first day working at Pleasing, her first day officially under Harry’s employment. She was excited, of course, but that didn’t stop the butterflies in her belly from multiplying.
She stared up at the ceiling for a few moments, taking slow breaths to calm herself. Her phone buzzed softly on the nightstand, and she reached over, her fingers trembling slightly as she opened the message.
Harry: Morning, Bambi 🌞 There’s a car on its way to pick you up. No need to stress, yeah? I’ll be waiting for you at the office. You’re gonna be amazing x
A small smile crept onto her face despite the nerves. Harry’s words were like a warm hug on a cold morning, making her feel just a little bit braver. She couldn’t help but appreciate how he seemed to know exactly what she needed to hear, right when she needed to hear it.
She quickly typed a reply, her fingers still shaky.
Y/N: Thank you. I’m a little nervous but I’ll do my best. See you soon 💕
Y/N got out of bed and went through her morning routine, trying to focus on each task to stop her mind from spiraling into all the things that could go wrong today. She picked out an outfit she hoped said “professional but approachable,” taking extra care to smooth out any creases in her clothes. When she was finally dressed, she checked the time—6:45 a.m.—the car Harry sent should be arriving any minute.
She stepped outside, the cool morning air doing little to ease her racing thoughts. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension. The street was quiet at this hour, and she couldn’t help but feel like the only person awake in the world.
Just then, a sleek black car pulled up in front of her, the driver rolling down the window with a friendly nod. "Y/N?" he asked, and she nodded in response.
“That’s me,” she said, her voice a little shaky. She climbed into the backseat, clutching her bag on her lap as the driver started the journey to the office. She stared out the window, watching the familiar streets blur by, and tried to give herself a little pep talk.
You can do this. You’re ready. Harry believes in you, so believe in yourself, too.
Her phone buzzed in her hand again, another message from Harry.
Harry: Also going on a coffee run, do you want anything? x
Bambi: Isn’t that my job today? x
Harry: It’s my job to take care of you everyday
Y/N didn’t realize how wide her smile had grown until she caught her reflection in the glassy screen of her phone. A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she tried to compose herself, glancing out the window to distract from the giddy feeling bubbling inside her. She watched as the quiet suburbs melted into the bustle of the big city, her heart thudding against her ribcage. 
Slowly, the car pulled up outside Pleasing. The building was elegant, with an arched doorway and a clean awning that had the brand's name in bold letters. Through the large glass doors, Y/N could see a glimpse of the bright, stylish interior. Her heart pounded as the car came to a stop, her mouth opening with a desperate plea to leave, to turn back and retreat home where she could hide away—but then she saw Harry, and her words fell away for an entirely different reason.
She’d seen Harry in a suit before, but seeing him in full CEO mode was something else. He wore a flawless black-and-white suit, cufflinks gleaming at his wrists. His eyes were stern, his entire demeanor unshakeable—until he looked her way, and his whole form softened.
“You’re here,” His voice was warm and inviting. She wanted to leap into him and hide herself within him but she wanted to be professional.
She stood in front of him, not wanting to get any closer to her new boss, “Good morning, Mr Styles.”
The corner of Harry’s lips quirked, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Good morning,” he replied, savoring her formality. He took a step closer, his gaze gentle yet focused. “Ready for today?”
“Y-yes,” She said but it wasn’t all that convincing.
Harry grabbed her hand, “You’ll be just fine Bambi.” He murmured the nickname just for her to hear. 
The warmth of his hand around hers steadied her, but it also set her pulse racing. His fingers intertwined with hers, and he kept their joined hands subtly hidden between them as they walked through the grand entrance and into the lobby. Y/N’s nerves started to quiet, replaced by a growing excitement.
As they stepped into the elevator, Harry’s thumb brushed gently over her knuckles. She looked up at him but his eyes were looking ahead. Her eyes fixated on his sharp jawline and smooth, freshly-shaven face; he looked even more polished, clean-cut and distinctly professional since she’d last seen him.
When they reached his office floor, Harry led her down a sleek corridor and into an airy, open workspace with views of the city skyline. The scent of fresh coffee lingered in the air, and a few team members looked up with welcoming smiles.
Just ahead, a woman in her mid-thirties with shoulder-length auburn hair and an easy smile approached them. Her professional but warm demeanor put Y/N at ease almost instantly. Harry released Y/N’s hand as he greeted her.
“Lindsey, this is Y/N,” he said, glancing between them. “She’s starting with us today. I thought you might help her settle in and get familiar with everything.”
Lindsey extended her hand warmly. “Oh is this-”
Harry’s gaze lingered on her with a slight, unreadable intensity, prompting Lindsey to pause mid-sentence. Then, noticing Y/N, she broke into a bright smile.
“Y/N! It’s so nice to meet you.” She laughed lightly, her eyes flicking to Harry with a teasing glint. “I have to admit, I’m a little curious why anyone would sign up to be his assistant—he can be a real pain most days.” She shot him a playful look. “But don’t worry, just don’t enter his office at midday - he can get real hangry.” 
Y/N giggled and Harry’s eyes brightened at the sound, ““Y/N,” he said, his voice warm, “you’re in very good hands.” He turned to Lindsey. “Make sure she gets a proper introduction to everything, but don’t overwhelm her.”
Lindsey chuckled. “I’ll keep it light for today, boss. We’d be here all day getting into your list of demands everyday.”
Harry rolled his eyes, and with a final look at Y/N, said, “I’ll see you later, then.” His words were simple, but the small smile he gave her was anything but. As he walked away, Y/N felt the anticipation return, wanting him to come back and be the one to show her around. She wasn’t the best with meeting new people. She was shy and nervous and fumbled over her words too often but Harry had great faith in her so she would try her best to do good. 
“Alright, let’s get started,” Lindsey said, gesturing to an open desk area near Harry’s office. “First things first—coffee? I’ll show you the best spot, and then we’ll make our way through the to-do list Harry sent this morning.” 
. . .
Y/N liked Lindsey a lot. 
She was funny and gentle. Whenever Y/N made a mistake—like earlier when she accidentally printed everything in pink instead of black and white—Lindsey would correct her kindly, reminding her that mistakes happen. Y/N wasn’t used to this kind of patience; her old boss would snap or hiss at even the smallest error. Here, it felt nice to breathe a little easier.
Lindsey spoke warmly about her two little boys, whom she cared for while her husband was away with the military. She had once been a stay-at-home mom, but over time, the isolation began to weigh on her; she craved more than just the role of mother and wanted to be out in the world, around people. When she applied to Pleasing, she’d explained her situation to Harry during her interview, and he had offered her flexible hours so she could still make it home to her boys each evening.
Whenever Lindsey mentioned the things Harry had done for her and her family, her voice would grow thick with emotion, and she spoke of him with genuine admiration. Y/N found herself thinking of her own circumstances and the way Harry had taken her under his wing, feeling a warmth for him settle in her chest.
“Okay, Harry’s in a meeting, so we need to bring in tea and coffee,” Lindsey said, heading over to a small rolling cart neatly stocked with cups, a teapot, and coffee supplies.
She guided Y/N through the arrangement, showing her how Harry liked his tea prepared. “He’s particular about the temperature—hot but not scalding,” Lindsey explained with a wink. “Don’t worry you’ll get the hang of things.”
Y/N carefully poured the tea, her hands steadying with each instruction Lindsey offered. They finished preparing the drinks, and Y/N took a deep breath, steadying herself as she reached for the cart handle.
“You’ll be fine,” Lindsey reassured her, offering a supportive smile. “Just go in, keep it simple, and make sure everyone has their drinks. You’ll be a natural at this in no time.”
“I’m going in alone?” Y/N’s eyes widened.
“It’s good practice,” Lindsey grins, “Good luck!”
Y/N squared her shoulders and pushed the cart toward the meeting room. The murmurs grew louder as she approached, but her nerves eased slightly upon catching Harry’s eye. His expression softened for a moment before returning to its professional coolness, a small signal just for her.
As she entered, she was met with the sight of a large glass table surrounded by men in sharp suits, all eyes shifting toward her. Taking a breath, she rolled the cart around and placed the cups in front of Harry and the others. Just as she reached for the teapot, a slight tremor ran through her hand, and she felt a sudden rush of panic.
In an instant, she lost her grip. The teapot tipped, sending hot tea spilling across the table and splattering onto a crisp white shirt belonging to one of the men. The room fell silent, and every gaze shifted from her to the angry figure, whose face flushed crimson.
““Watch where you’re going!” he barked, rising from his seat. “Do you even know how to serve properly?”
Y/N’s heart raced, the color draining from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to apologize, a surge of anger rippled through the room.
“Do you think it’s okay to talk to a woman like that?” Harry murmured, his voice laced with malice.
“She stained my shirt! She’s lucky I’m not making her pay for it,” the man continued, and Y/N could see the discomfort on the faces of the other attendees, their expressions telling her they knew he’d crossed a line.
Harry’s eyes darkened, a storm brewing behind them. He reached into his blazer pocket, pulling out a checkbook and a fountain pen. With swift strokes, he began to scribble before turning to Y/N. “Y/N, would you mind delivering this to Mr. Smith?”
Y/N nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the check, its weight feeling both significant and heavy.
Mr. Smith snatched the check from her hands, glancing down at it with a scowl. Written across the page was Harry’s signature alongside a mere fifty dollars. “Your final check—enough to cover the shirt, I assume? I think I saw the same one in the TK Maxx sale rack.”
“Final?” Mr. Smith asked, incredulous.
“Correct,” Harry replied nonchalantly.
Mr. Smith’s face burned bright red. He huffed, rising from his seat and storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The room fell silent. “Meeting adjourned,” Harry announced, and everyone flooded out, eager to escape the awkward tension.
Y/N stood in the corner, barely able to look up. Embarrassment washed over her; she wondered if she could do any job right. Her eyes watered as she bit down on her lip to keep from crying.
Suddenly, two polished shoes came into view, and big hands cupped her cheeks, gently forcing her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?” Harry asked, concern etched on his face.
She wanted to say yes, to express pride in her efforts and how well she had handled the day, but instead, she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shirt. “I feel like I can’t do anything right,” she admitted, her voice muffled.
Harry sighed, his arms encircling her as he rubbed the back of her head soothingly. “You did nothing wrong.”
“You can’t fire people because of me, Harry.”
“Don’t worry about him. We’ve wanted to get rid of him for ages—just a sexist prick. Turns out you’re a pretty good assistant for giving me an excuse to fire someone on the spot,” he chuckled lightly.
Y/N looked up at him, her heart fluttering as his hand held her cheek, his thumb brushing beneath her eye. “These eyes,” he whispered.
A smile broke through her sadness. “I’m sorry for ruining your meeting.”
“Don’t care, Bambi.” He was so much taller than her, nearly a foot difference, so he had to lean down to brush his nose against hers, their lips ghosting against each other. “You actually made it better.”
“I did?” she whispered, her mind suddenly forgetting the man who had yelled at her.
“Mhm,” he hummed, and then, gently, he pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and lingering, sending a warm flutter through Y/N that chased away the remnants of her earlier embarrassment. She melted into the moment, her worries fading as Harry’s lips brushed against hers. 
“Okay, what the hell happened?” Lindsey barged into the room, causing Y/N to leap away from Harry, her cheeks flushing.
“Wow, Lindsey,” Harry said, rubbing a hand over his mouth, both of them flustered as Lindsey glanced between them. “Try knocking next time, yeah?”
“Since when have I ever needed to knock?” Lindsey shot back, her eyebrows knitting together as she assessed Y/N, whose face was now bright pink.
“Since now,” Harry replied. Clearing his throat, he added, “If you’ll excuse me…” He brushed past her, leaving the tension lingering in the air.
A laugh escaped Y/N’s lips, even as embarrassment tinged her cheeks; it was the first time she’d witnessed him so flustered. Lindsey arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her face. “So, are you two like…?”
“No,” Y/N replied, the denial tumbling out a bit too quickly.
Lindsey shot her a knowing look but chose not to press further. “Might want to let him know about that lipstick stain on his upper lip,” she added, rolling the cart out of the room and leaving Y/N feeling distinctly warm and flustered.
. . .
Harry kissed Y/N with the lights off on her front porch after dropping her home. Y/N melted against him, her fingers tangling in his hair as the kiss deepened. She felt a rush of warmth spread through her, the sweet taste of his breath mixing with the fresh night air. His hands found her waist, pulling her closer, their bodies fitting perfectly together. “Bambi,” He slurred against her lips.”
“Hm?” She hummed, unable to stop herself when she pulled him closer. 
“I was thinking,” He murmured, pulling away but his hands still firmly gripping her waist, “Maybe this weekend y’ could come to my place and stay the night.”
“The night?” She’d never had a sleepover before let alone one at a boys house. 
“Yeah… Would you be okay with that?” 
“Y-Yeah, I think so.”
“Y’ think so?” Harry grinned, “Are y’ sure?”
She smiled, “I’d like that.”
“Well, alright then,” he murmured, leaning down to place one last, soft kiss on her lips. “Goodnight, Bambi.”
“Goodnight, Harry.” Y/N barely suppressed a smile as she watched him walk to his car, a flutter in her chest as he turned back for a final wave.
Before she turned to step into her house, her phone buzzed and a text came through from Harry.
Harry: I think we have to get better at this whole sneaking around thing
Y/N: Tell yourself that, you kissed me first!
Harry: Can’t help it Bambi 
Harry: I’m obsessed with you
. . .
taglist ~~
@ravenclawmarvel @noididnotsignupforthis @comicalivy  @boomitsallie1 @hazzarules @squirreljoe @c3lline0 @harry2121 @lizsogolden @its-his-dimples @tchalametishot @youngpastafanmug @awritingtree @reidsblessing @idontcareforausernamesblog @madstyles3204 @cherrys4suckers @lomlolivia @tenaciousperfectionunknown
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wttcsms · 3 months ago
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come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)
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ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )
pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist
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If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…
Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.
“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”
“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 
Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
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You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.
“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 
This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.
Kuroo always knows what to do. 
And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 
The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.
You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 
“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 
“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.
Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 
“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.
Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 
“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”
“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 
“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 
Oh. 
You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 
“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.
“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 
“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 
Kuroo smiles. 
“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 
You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 
For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 
Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 
You can only nod in agreement. 
“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”
A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 
“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 
While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—
“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 
You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 
Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 
“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 
“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 
“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 
“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 
“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 
You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 
“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 
Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 
“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 
Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 
“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 
He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 
You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 
He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 
Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 
“Atta girl.” 
He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 
He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 
You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 
You did nothing wrong. 
He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 
“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 
“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.
It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 
“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 
“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 
“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 
Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 
Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 
Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 
He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 
Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 
“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 
The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.
“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 
And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.
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Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 
Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 
But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.
You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.
However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.
Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.
When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 
You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 
“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 
He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”
“R-really?”
He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”
“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 
Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 
“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 
He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 
“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”
His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”
You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 
“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 
“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 
You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 
“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 
1K notes · View notes
darnell-la · 19 days ago
Text
FRIENDS & CUFFS
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summary: y/n has only been curious about Eddie’s handcuffs after they began dating. she wondered why he never used them on her, and at first, long told her she didn’t know anything about that life. she soon found out that Eddie had a lot to teach her.
warnings: quick friends to lovers storyline, making out, fem receiving oral from male, reader weakens after orgasm, slight innocent reader, drug dealer Eddie (not really mentioned), rough sex, bondage (Eddie’s handcuffs/chains), missionary, doggy, no protection, crying, whining, a lot of male noises, pet names, chocking, etc.
note: we haven’t done an Eddie Munson fan fiction in a while. we still love him, so, there will be more. more stranger things in general. you see what I did there? — nevermind.
———
Steve nearly asked Eddie every day since he graduated, when he was going to make a move on y/n. He hated watching the two drink and get close, yet never make a move.
When people would ask them if they were together, or assume, anyone could tell they the nervousness entered the room.
Not too long ago, y/n and Eddie finally made a move. It seemed so perfect how they both leaned in to feel each other’s lips.
“I think we should stop — You’re drunk, and it’s getting late,” Eddie whispered after y/n stopped fake fighting on top of him. “What if I won’t want to sleep just yet?” Y/n asked, a bit shy, but the alcohol in her body, helped her gain confidence.
“You’re drinks, princess, and I’m not. I don’t want you to regret this, and mess our friendship up,” Eddie said, really wanting to taste her, but she was afraid of showing what he’s been wanting to do with her.
“A kiss could never ruin our friendship, Eddie,” y/n said, slightly sounding desperate as her eyes could barely stay open. “Wanna do more than just kiss you, y/n,” Eddie admitted.
Y/n’s heart skipped a beat at what her best friend said. She thought she was the only one who wanted to experiment with him. She felt nasty, but now, she felt loose.
The two both crashed on each other’s lips, making g out rough but passionate. None of them have kissed like this before. They would’ve never mixed their saliva like this with anyone, but because it’s them, they wanted to do much more.
The night ended with y/n halfway passed out, and Eddie’s face resting on y/n’s thigh, dripping juice from y/n’s throbbing heat. “So good for me — I wanna get used to this,”
Now, the two are dating, happier than ever, but y/n has been curious lately. She didn’t pay much attention when they were just friends, but now that they’re dating, she thought about Eddie’s handcuffs.
Most partners would be jealous, but y/n? She was curious. She thought to herself plenty of times how he would use them on her, and why he hadn’t done it yet. They’ve only been sexual for a short time, but if he were kinky like that, why wouldn’t he mention it?
“You good, sweetheart?” Eddie asked after turning to his girlfriend who seemed to be daydreaming. “Yeah, I was just thinking,” y/n said, not knowing if she should bring this up as a conversation so soon her their relationship.
“What is it? What were you thinking about?” The metalhead asked as he leaned back on his bed, taking his eyes off the weed he was pre-rolling for his rich customers who couldn’t do it on their own.
“So, uh — I noticed the handcuffs, and I was curious,” y/n said as she stared at the cuffs that were basically chains, dangling from a hook in his wall. She knew that had to be for something sexual.
“Hey, y/n, look — I swear on my uncle, I’ve never used them in anyone, and never planned to. I just liked the thought of them near me. I’ve even thought about you in them,” Eddie spoke quietly, a bit embarrassed by his truth.
“Oh, wait, I wasn’t jealous or anything. I just was curious on why you didn’t use them on me yet,” y/n said, making Eddie's eyes widen. For the longest, he had thought y/n was innocent, and she was. She was just open-minded when it came to her boyfriend.
“You’re not ready for that, princess,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “Why not?” Y/n asked, a bit offended as she crossed her arms. “Being restrained means you can’t do anything. I don’t think that it’s a good idea to put you in something like that, knowing you’d wanna get out,”
“What do you mean, want to get out? I can take it,” y/n said, only making the man laugh. “You can’t even take me slow in doggy. What makes you think you can take me deep up front with your pretty hands cuffed?”
Eddie shifted in the bed to cup y/n’s chin, slightly teasing her because they both knew she wasn’t a taker. Especially with his length.
“I-I can take it — It’s not even that bad,” y/n said, making Eddie throw himself back onto his bed with a loud laugh, knowing his uncle wasn’t home to tell him to shut the hell up.
“What!? You’re mean as fuck, you know?” Y/n said as she kept her arms crossed. “Oh, really, baby? I’m sorry, it’s just — You’re a comedian,” Eddie kept laughing, only making y/n roll her eyes.
“C’mon, I’m just pullin’ your tit, baby,” Eddie leaned up to hug y/n, but she moved away. “Babe, don’t start this. I was just kidding,” Eddie tried hugging y/n again, but this time she pushed him away. Of course, not too hard. She was just being dramatic.
“And, that’s why we can’t do what you wanna do. You can’t even handle being picked on a little bit,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s shoulder lightly, slightly feeling bad for what he did.
“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” y/n said, making y/n sigh as he rolled his eyes. “Fine — We can use em, but ion wanna hear none of that cryin', okay?” Eddie jumped off of the bed to get his handcuffs that had dust all over them.
“Really?” Y/n asked, a bit excited, but knowing she wouldn’t be too excited soon. “Ah huh, but only one rule,” Eddie said with a smirk as he untangled the chains. “Yeah?” Y/n innocently asked, not knowing how quick of a turn this would take.
“The only thing stopping me, is our safe word,” before y/n could agree with a smile, Eddie lunged at her, grabbing her quest roughly to cuff them as quick as possible.
“Hey,” y/n said with an eye roll, not knowing he’d get in the mood this fast. “Not a word from you, princess. Let’s see how good you think you can take it,” Eddie said as he placed the chains where they needed to be.
Seeing y/n in this sight, made him harder than he thought he could get. She was always beautiful, but seeing her innocent body slightly retrained, knowing she was actually ready for what was coming, made him want to burst then and there.
“Always thought about tying you up at school. I was a little perv-nerd when it came to you, princess. You always looked and smelled so good — Had to keep myself from throwing you in my van with your hands and legs tied,”
Eddie was in an emotion he couldn’t control. He was either not sure about putting his pretty girl through this, or he was getting too dark to the point he would black out and not remember anything he’d do to her tonight.
“Pretties thighs — Pretties body — Pretties fucking face,” Eddie slightly growled as he gripped y/n’s face. The younger girl whined with huge eyes, feeling her heat get wet.
“I know, baby — Hearts probably rising. Maybe a hint of fear, knowing you can’t get loose — Don’t worry. You know, I’ll take good care of you,”
Eddie quickly began tugging on y/n’s clothes until parts of her showed more than before. She had already had her night dress in, so exposing her bra-covered breast was easy.
“You sure you want this y/n because, fuck — I won’t be able to stop myself,” Eddie warned as he climbed on top of y/n, pulling her dress up as she slightly moved at his cold hands grazing her skin.
“U-Use me — Please,” y/n stuttered, not knowing if she should’ve said it. “What’s the safe word?” Eddie asked in a stern tone. “Red,” y/n said, feeling her heart raise. This was actually happening, and she only had to question him once.
“Good girl,” Eddie grunted as he reached into his jeans to pull himself out. “And, that’s the only thing I wanna hear from you tonight,” Eddie said as he pulled y/n’s panties to the side.
“I-I’ll try,” y/n spoke, making Eddie shake his head with a chuckle. “You’re always doing a terrible job. Just means I’ll have to start off rough,” before anything, Eddie doubly pushed through y/n’s walls, causing her to cry out in pain and pleasure.
“Yeah? You feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? I told you doggy would be the only position you could truly handle — This is next level,” Eddie couldn’t stop but grin down at the struggles woman.
“S-So much,” y/n whined low, only making Eddie shush her. “Nah uh, what did I say? Didn’t I say to keep that pretty mouth closed? Hm? — You’re the one who wanted this, so accept the journey,”
Eddie grabbed both sides of y/n’s waist before pushing down onto the mattress. Y/n knew he was positioning himself to fuck her rough. He’s never gone too rough, but she asked for it tonight.
“Hush it up, princess — You wanted it,” Eddie continued saying as he pounded down into y/n, going the deepest he could get at the start of his session. After being handcuffed, there would be no room for taking it slow.
“E-Eddie,” y/n cried out as she pulled one of her restraints. At times, she’d forget that she wouldn’t be able to get out. “Wanna break free? Keep trying, princess — Makes this so much hotter,” Eddie growled with a smile, looking down at the way y/n pulled on the chains.
“This is the tightest you’ve ever been — The way you’re soaking around me, only makes me closer,” Eddie felt himself twitch. He didn’t want to cum this quick, but it didn’t matter. He’s always been able to keep going.
“Eddie- Eddie, you — The condoms. You forgot the condoms,” y/n took forever to say what she was trying to say. “Oh, really? Guess that’s your luck, hm?” Eddie leaned in front of y/n’s face.
Deep down, Eddie felt bad for slipping into her without protection. He had completely forgotten, but he didn’t want to get out of character. He had to somehow make sure y/n was 100% with what was going on.
“Tell me you want me to stop. Tell me. Tell me!” Eddie slightly yelled as he snapped his hips, wanting to keep his work going. He could feel the way she fluttered around him. She was so close.
“Too much, Eds — I’m gonna cum,” y/n made the mistake of telling him how close she was. “And, you want me to stop? When you’re so close? C’mon,” Eddie leaned into y/n’s ear so she could hear his groans better.
The room was filled with wet slaps, whining, growling, and a bunch is cuss words from Eddie. He couldn’t keep himself together. This situation was too much for him. He was going to explode.
“E-Eddie, slow down — Please,” y/n tried begging the man, but he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? She hadn’t used the safe word yet. “Want me to slow down?” Eddie asked as he leaned up.
“Yes, yes,” y/n huffed, surprised he actually slowed down. She had thought he got soft, but little did she know, he was just getting a short break. “Want me to be nicer? Take it easy on you?” He asked as he softly placed his hands around her neck.
“Please-“ y/n was cut off by the grip of his hands. “Then you asked the wrong one to chain you up, sweetheart,” Eddie spat before he began slamming into her, making the young lady cry out instantly.
“E-Eds! C-Can’t anymore — I can’t!” Y/n kicked and arched her back, trying to control herself, but her cunt continued to squeeze around Eddie, only assuring him that he was doing exactly what she wanted. Using her.
“That’s it — Keep struggling — You’re going nowhere, and this isn’t even the beginning — I have so many loads I’ve been wanting to empty into you,” Eddie tightened his grip a bit more to hear her struggle for air.
For a second, Eddie thought he might have been going too far tonight. Quickly handcuffing her, saying mean things, pinning her down, and fucking get rougher than he’s ever done.
The only thing that helped him was her words. She never once came close to the word red. She would’ve said it by now, and she would never come to him later and say she was uncomfortable. Y/n wasn’t like that.
That’s how Eddie knew y/n probably enjoyed this more than him. She loved faking that she needed him to stop. He even saw a small pour from her when he slowed down a few minutes ago.
“C-Cumming — Cunming,” y/n’s body stiffened before she shook. “That’s it- That’s it — Fucking take it,” the older man growled as he pounded her, wanting her juice to splash anywhere it could.
“Ian stoppin’ either, baby — Told you to keep that fucking mouth shut, didn’t I?” Eddie asked, but y/n didn’t answer. Her eyes were landing everywhere but on him. She felt out of it already.
“Didn’t I!?” The man shouted as he shook y/n by her neck to catch her attention. “S-Sorry,” tears streamed from her eyes, upset at herself for not taking it like she swore she could.
Right as Eddie went to assure her that she was fine, she spoke, shocking him.
“I-I’ll be good, I promise. Please cum in me. D-Don’t pull out and punish me,” she cried. “I’ll do anything, Eds, just- Please, use me,”
“Jesus’s H. Christ,” Eddie huffed as he pulled out. He quickly turned his girlfriend around, knowing the chains were long enough for her to be comfortable. He took no time to push back in her, roughly, with a warning.
Y/n wanted to speak out loud to thank him, he she kept quiet. She wanted to be good like she promised.
“You’re just a slut, y/n — A dirty fucking slut, and I knew it from how you dressed at parties — You always got drunk before you sat on my lap, facing me- Dragging that pretty pussy across my clothes cock — Swore you even stained my jeans, once,”
Y/n whined, happy that he noticed his much she wanted him before they got together. Yeah, a bit of embarrassment was felt, but the thought of being caught was what made her close to another orgasm.
“You’re in for a ride with me, princess. Especially after I coat these walls,”
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rbfclassy · 7 months ago
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MY PRETTY (EX) WIFE! — GOJO SATORU
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SYNOPSIS...your ex husband gojo gets word of your date with some other guy and goes out of his way to pay you a visit while you’re getting ready
INFO...ex husband!gojo x fem!reader, you and gojo have a kid, possessiveness, jealously, groping, grinding, pet names (pretty wife, baby), fucking you from behind over the sink, hair pulling, love-bomb, talks of giving you another kid, breeding, not proofread
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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Your ex husband Gojo is an absolute menace when it comes to your dating life. Somehow he ends figuring out that you’re talking to/seeing some guy. How’d he find out? Probably paid suguru to spy on you to be honest. But besides all that, he will go out of his way to ruin your dating life and it absolutely pisses you off. He’d show up to your house thirty minutes before your date, using the spare key that he still (somehow) had to make his way in. No surprise that you were absolutely startled to see him appear in the mirror behind you as you were applying your mascara. His eyes scan over you, from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, you’re all dolled up over some mediocre man that could never be him. Your nails and toes are painted the same color, your hair is freshly done, and the dress you were wearing was one of Gojo’s favorites.
“What are you doing here?” You huff, closing your mascara and placing it back in your bag.
“Came to visit, had some free time.” He leaned against the door frame.
“Free time?” You turn towards him. “You were supposed to watch our daughter, Gojo.” You turn back around, searching in your bag for your lip liner.
“Don’t worry! She’s with aunt Shoko.” He smiles. “Plus, I heard you had a little date tonight. Wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”
You exhale in annoyance, knowing that you’ll never be able to live a peaceful life if your one and only ex husband is breathing down your neck and figuring out everything about you, watching your every move. “Yeah, so? Aren’t I allowed to have a little free time of my own?”
“Of course you are, sweetheart. As the mother of my kid, you’re allowed whatever you want. Don’t worry too much, I have a date of my own, so I won’t be in your hair too much longer.” He was lying straight through his teeth, watching your face in the mirror intently to see if he could catch a glimpse of any jealousy.
“Congrats,” you simply responded, grabbing your lipstick.
“I will say though, you look absolutely beautiful in that dress.” Gojo walked up behind you, examining the curve of your back as you leaned over the counter. “It’s my favorite.” His large palm ran up the curve, slowly, before gliding back down to the roundness of your ass.
“Gojo.” You pull his hand away, shaking your head with the roll of your eyes. “You’re not ruining this for me.” The tone of your voice came off as a warning. Yet, Gojo continued to run his hands all over your body, holding onto your waist as he pressed himself against you.
“Afraid that you’re gonna give in? There’s no shame in fucking your ex husband,” he whispered, rubbing his bulge against your ass. He pulled you back against him, a small groan leaving his lips.
You threw your lipstick back in your bag, eyes shutting as you tried to resist the temptation that was Gojo. It was so, so hard. The expensive cologne he wore filled your lungs, his sultry voice in your ear, the softness of his hands as they held onto you. Goddamnit, why does he always make you feel like this? You swore up and down that you wouldn’t fall for his tricks again and here you are, rubbing your ass on him. You look back over your shoulder, taking in his broad shoulders and tall build, the black compression shirt he was wearing defined his muscles so well. His hair so effortlessly falling along the sides of his face. What were you doing? What were you thinking? “Be quick.”
“Atta girl, that’s all you had to say.” Within seconds, he’s bunching your dress up around your hips, pulling your panties down as they fall around your ankles. Your heart skips a beat when you feel his bulbous tip tease your entrance, running it up and down your slit. You grip onto the bathroom counter as you feel him push inside of you, the stretch so deliciously intoxicating, your jaw slack. “Fuck, baby, you’re still so tight,” he lets out a mix between a groan and chuckle, hand coming down to grip onto your hips as he thrusts into you.
His thrusts are deep and fast, a sign that he’s been waiting to be inside of you, waiting to fuck you since the last time. He presses down on your lower back, pushing you down more as he angles his cock just right so he could hit your sweet spot. “F-fuck!” You gasp. “Yes! Right there!” Gojo knew you like the back of his hand, knew every one of your weaknesses and strengths, and most of all how to please you. After being your husband, it’d be a shame for him not to know how to make his pretty wife cum, right? He knows what makes you purr, he knows how to get your eyes rolling back.
“Shit, this pussy is so wet—fuck!” He grabs your leg, propping it up on the bathroom counter, wanting to be able to reach deeper, his tip kissing your cervix with each thrust. Gojo watches you through the mirror, taking delight in the expression on your face. Your brows were furrowed in pleasure, eyes glazed over as you tried to hold back your moans, yet you were failing. His cock dragged along your velvety walls, your brain turning into mush as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“Satoru!” You moaned, his name rolling off of your tongue so smoothly. His fingertips dug into your skin, gripping tightly as he felt you clench around him, sucking him back in every time he threatened to pull away. It was like your pussy was made for him.
“My pretty fucking wife,” he huskily whispered in your ear as he pressed his chest up against your back. His hand gripped a fistful of your hair, turning your head towards him before placing his lips on yours. He swallowed your moans as your tongues sloppily moved against each other, lips moving in sync with his. He pulled away, staring down at you with such a primal look in his eyes, one that sent shivers through your entire body. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you basked in the feeling of pleasure. “You’re all mine. Fucking mine. Everything.”
“‘Toru,” you whined, eyes fluttering shut, “I’m close! Mmm, fuck, please don’t stop! Please, please keep fucking me!” You begged. His hips slammed against yours, lewd squelches from your pussy mixed with you and gojos moans was like something out of a porno. Each thrust had your eyes rolling back, the pleasure starting to overwhelm you as another orgasm was forced on the edge. “I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” You screamed, body shaking against his hold as your orgasm overtook your entire self.
“That’s it, baby, cum for me. Cum around this dick. No one can fuck you like this, no one but me. Pussy was made for me.” His lips were pressed up against your ear, darting his tongue out to lick your skin. He continued his ministrations, movements becoming sloppy as he chased his own orgasm, the sheer feeling of you squeezing around him sent his brain into overdrive. “Look at me.” He gripped your chin. “You love me?” He asked, soaking up the look of your watery eyes. “Gonna have my baby again, huh? Make you a mommy.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he pounds into you.
“Yes, yes, I love you.” You nod, staring up at him with doe eyes, tears pricking the corners. “I love you.” The words are barely above a whisper.
“Fuckkk.” Those three words were all Gojo wanted to hear from you, the sound of your voice brining him closer and closer to his orgasm. “I love you too, baby.” The feverish kiss he lands on your lips sends you into a spiral, his hips moving sporadically, making your legs shake.
“Cum in me, please. I want it.” You’re breathing heavily, the consequences of your words no longer existing to you as you relish in the moment.
“Shiiit!” Gojo thrusts deeply into your once more, holding himself there as thick ropes of his cum coat your walls. “Ohhh, mmmm, fuck me!” He lets out a shaky breath, cum still spurting from the head of his cock. You whimper at the feeling of him filling you up, slowly removing himself from you. He chuckled as he watches his cum ooze out of you, dripping down to your clit before he pushes it back in with his thumb. “Goddamn, baby.” He lands a smack on your ass, squeezing it as he looks at you, hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. His eyes avert to your phone, seeing that it was ringing, a name he’s never heard of displayed on the screen. “Uh oh.” He picks up your phone, seeing all the missed calls from what he assumes is your date. “Sorry, sweetheart.”
“What?” You completely blanked out, forgetting about the date you had. “Fuck.” You groan in annoyance, snatching your phone from him. “I forgot. What do I say?” You look towards Gojo for help.
“Who gives a shit. You’re with me now.” He snatches the phone back, placing it on the counter. “Let’s get in the shower, c’mon.” He pecks your lips.
“You’re so annoying,” you playfully replied, rolling your eyes with a scoff.
repost from my old account
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someundefinedaesthetic · 2 years ago
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AM I ABOUT TO GET D*Y*K*E*D DOWN NEXT WEEK?????
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pedgito · 6 months ago
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𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | Joel Miller x reader — Series Masterlist (part i)
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↝ masterlist | requests? | ao3 | update blog | fic rec | ko-fi
summary | Moving in with you soon-to-be stepfather is the least of your concerns while under the unfavorable regime of your mother—but then there's Joel, Tommy's brother, who always know just how to soothes your worries.
author's note | this was originally supposed to be a tommy x reader idea that morphed into joel and here we are. special thanks to @chaotic-mystery and @swiftispunk for lending me their beautiful minds and helping this make more sense <3
content warning | 18+ smut, DDDNE - this is very loosely stepcest, so if that's not your thing, ignore. that's the only warning i'm giving on that, additional warnings: no outbreak, step-uncle!joel, age gap (20/late 40s), religious trauma, parental trauma (mentally, with one instance of physical), und*rage drinking, contradiction all over the place, joel is a broke man who makes horrible decisions, reckless behavior for reader, mast*rbation, voyeurism, one-sided flirting, joel can keep your secrets <3
word count —9.2k
PART TWO, PART THREE (tbd)
“Married?”
There’s the wiggle of your mother’s fingers, the shine of the small diamond under the natural light streaming through the window to your shared two bedroom apartment—being twenty and still living your mother wasn’t ideal, but it was all you could manage at the moment. You force a grin and take her hand, examining the jewelry.
Tommy had actually talked to you weeks ago, a prerequisite to going through with the whole ordeal, making sure that it was okay with you. It wasn’t that you minded Tommy, he was a good man—too goddamn good for your mother, who always seemed to find a way to ruin something. Everything. You wanted to warn him, but even as much as you despise your mother on most days, he made her happy.
“It’s been a year,” You comment offhandedly, “you’re sure he’s the one?”
She snatches her hand away with a bitter gaze and fiddles with the engagement ring, pacing her way around your shared living room.
“Can’t you just be happy?” She pleads, so petulant and whiney. Like a child, “For once?”
You shrug, “I like Tommy, he’s a good guy. It’s just—he’s the only man you’ve dated since…”
“Baby, I know what I’m doing.”
Your eyes flick up under a lazy gaze, seemingly unconvinced. But, you mask it well.
“So, are you going to elope then?”
She shakes her head, suddenly shaking with a subtle excitement that has her bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“No, honey—we’ll be planning a wedding. Small, of course. You know Tommy doesn’t have much family.”
Just a brother, whom you’d never met. You never heard about anyone else.
“And—“
That’s a tone you don’t like.
Anticipation. Hesitation.
“We’ve been looking for a house.”
“Oh?”
So, she was kicking you to the curb. Time to leave the nest, grow up—blah blah. 
But, she continues.
“And in the meantime, we’re going to move into Tommy’s childhood home!” 
You cringe externally at the excitement, “What’s wrong with our place?”
“We’re gonna be saving every penny we can, cutting costs where it seems easier. Joel is offering to let us live there for the time being rent-free, given we take care of the place.”
Joel. You knew a name. Not a face. A personality. Only that he was Tommy’s older brother. Worked with him, spent weekends with him. That was it. He seemed like a lonely man from a distance.
“So, you’ll do just that,” She remarks, a definitive look that allows no argument, “we’ll be out of here by the end of the month.”
“That’s next week, mom—“
“Then, I suggest you get to packin’.”
Unbelievable.
“You can’t be serious—I don’t even know him. Do you? Have you even met him?”
“Once or twice,” She shrugs casually, “He’s a private man, but he’s nice enough. I’m not questionin’ it, honey. Tommy is a good man, I can assume Joel is, too.”
Your mother spots the disdain the moment it crosses your face, a finger held up in reprimand.
“You are as ungrateful as they come,” She bickers and then follows the shame, “what would he say?”
Your eyes drag up toward the ceiling, feeling the echo of a scripture you’ve heard time and time again—different words, same meaning, “Thou shalt love thy—“
“—neighbor as thyself,” Your mom finishes, a prosperous grin on her face, “Go on, wash up before bed.”
Even as you graduated and started college, still living under the conveniences of your mother, she felt the need to guide and protect, preaching whatever bullshit she’s swallowed down the past twenty years of your life.
She wasn’t like this before, in fact, it was strikingly opposite. But, she’d had you young, regretted her choices, and while trying to be a good mom had found something to cling to, to help guide her back to some semblance of sanity and safety. 
Unluckily for you, it means years and years of strict teaching and rules that made no sense to you now. Hell, they had stopped making since long before that, given the way your mom has relaxed on her morals since she met Tommy, a man that was nowhere near religion or under the constant fear of something other.
You questioned it everyday—tried to fight it, but then the guilt creeped in.
It was your own mother’s doing; a rigorous and methodically set out schedule when you were young, everything followed by prayer or reminders from your mother. He’s always watching. As you grew older, into your body and started to question—it was never outwardly, but your mother took notice and found that shaming you for your inherent provactiveness was easier than guidance. In fact, punishment was an even easier route, most of the time.
“They’re having a cookout tomorrow,” She calls over her shoulder as you depart quietly to your room, somehow more exhausted from a five minute conversation with her than anything else you’ve done all day, “so, best behavior, alright?”
You don’t even try to hide the roll of your eyes that time, sighing softly and answering with a tired, “Yes, of course.”
It would have been hard to predict how that day would change the trajectory of your life completely.
The house is beautiful, really. Deep in the back of a suburban neighborhood, right in the middle of Austin. It was lively—kids playing, neighbors conversing over gates from their lawns, music blaring through the streets. 
But frankly, it was fucking weird.
You're halfway up the driveway when Tommy opens the door, spots your mother first and swoops her up into a hug that lifts her off her feet, a squeal escaping her.
When it’s your turn, it’s a gentle but quick hug. An even softer pat on the back as he welcomes you in.
Welcoming you to what would soon be home. 
Temporarily, at least.
“Come on,” He calls back toward you both with a nod of his head, “we just got finished on the grill and the game is about to hit kickoff, y’all are just in time.”
You step past the threshold, enveloped in the homey smell of vanilla and citrus, something a little savory—which you assumed was the food, and some of the scent from fresh cut lawns from the neighborhood seeping in through the open windows. 
Tommy’s closing the door behind you before he comes around your side, yelling out with his hands cupped around his mouth.
“Joel, get ‘yer ass in here!” Tommy yells, slightly jarring as you flinch at the loud sound. Tommy seems to notice and offers an apology with a kind rub of his hand against your shoulder, “Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. He’s hard of hearing—“
“I’m not,” The man grumbles as he rounds the corner from outside, walking through the sliding door with a tray of freshly cooked patties lined up in rows, “my hearin’ is perfectly fuckin’ fine.”
Tommy seems careless to dismiss it as your mother offers Joel a polite greeting which he returns with what you can immediately spot is a forced smile. Then, Tommy introduces you. Your smile is just as forced, but out of the inherent nervousness of the situation, offering a small wave that Joel returns with a nod.
“Food’s done,” Joel offers as a change of subject, “game’s starting so—“ He waves vaguely at the array of food, “have at it, I guess.”
“Did you wanna say grace, baby?” Tommy asks, looking over at your mother.
“No—no, I’m sure you and Joel don’t do that,” Your mom looks at you, rubbing a surprisingly gentle touch over your cheek, squeezing gently, “We can say it to ourselves right, sweetie?”
Your eyes avert toward Joel who looks more uncomfortable now then when you walked in. You nod regardless, shrugging away from your mother’s touch. She doesn’t argue and returns her attention toward Tommy, thankfully.
You move curiously, examine the different toppings and add-ons, sides, and different treats. It was far more than you were used to—a nice change to your mothers botched box dinners and takeout ordering that always ended up wrong. 
Joel moves mechanically, eyes on the screen as he slaps his burger together, sliding you the bag of buns like clockwork, almost as if he sensed it. It was the only tangible acknowledgment he’s made aside from the nod. But, beyond that—it was silence.
He was an odd man. Quiet, reserved—part of you understood. It was uncharted territory, two mostly strangers in his home. You’d be a little annoyed too.
But, you remember your mother’s words. So, you make an attempt.
His hip is digging into the counter at the edge of his kitchen as he holds the plate to his chest and eats his burger, messily and starved, scarfing it down in very few bites. He catches you staring at him curiously, shamefully taking the first small bite of your own burger. He doesn’t react at you, but he does consciously wipe the mess of grease around his mouth as he sets his plate down, aiming to set himself up with another burger.
“It’s nice,” You say suddenly, the lack of elaboration apparent and Joel raises his eyebrows in unison, “—your house, it’s…nice.”
Above the low rumble of music playing on the radio—something you can determine is a rock song, of what band or song name you have no idea, and the sudden voice of Tommy yelling over a fumbled pass, which Joel also echoes his frustration with as he catches the screen over your shoulder. You jump, turning over your shoulder to look. 
Joel seems to notice the way you startle, “‘M sorry,” He apologies kindly, “and…thank you.”
It was hard to settle and feel comfortable, knowing that normally, in any other situation, your mom would be judging them—the music, the course language, the entertainment of boys throwing a ball around and tackling each other. It wasn’t in her taste or her faith to condone such things. 
But suddenly, with Tommy, none of it mattered. It was jarring, to say the least.
Joel leaves you after that, taking a seat on the separate recliner from the couch your mother was sharing with Tommy, somehow entranced in the game and Tommy’s answers to her questions. Everything was overwhelming and in the midst of another yelling match at the screen with your eyes locked on the sight as you blindly walked backwards into the counter behind you, you felt your elbow hit a can and suddenly the liquid was spilling over your feet.
You yelp in surprise, catching only the attention of Joel. You scramble, picking up the can before sliding it into the sink, stepping out of your now ruined sandals and feeling suddenly overwhelmed by everything—the noise, the smelly, sticky mess of liquid all over you and your clothes.
Joel’s footsteps are heavy but swift, his plate sliding over the island as he rips off a wad of paper towels over your head and turns on the faucet, “That’s my bad—forgot my beer was there,” You look up at him wide-eyed, feeling him guide your hands under the stream to wash away the mess, “you alright?”
It feels like someone was twisting your gut in their grip—you’ve never heard those words aimed your way before and the anxiety engulfs you. Joel was already crouching down by then, scooping your ruined sandals into his hand and nodding toward the backdoor, “We can wash these off and leave ‘em outside to dry.”
You nod dumbly, watching him run them under the water, but his eyes examine you closely and the quick rise and fall of your chest, “You can follow me outside, if you’re needin’ a break.”
Again you nod, but you’re sure that time. You step over the small puddle on the floor and your face scrunches up in disgust, sensing the presence of your mother as she comes into view.
“Oh, honey—you made a mess.”
“She’s alright,” Joel stresses, “I left my beer there, s’nothing some napkins and water can’t clean up.”
There’s a silent reprimand behind her eyes, something you would hear about later or something she was storing for another time, “C’mon,” Joel’s voice saves you and you follow, shying away from the piercing look of your mother, feeling the wave of relief after Joel closed the backdoor behind you.
“Accidents happen,” Joel offers as a reminder and a sense of comfort, placing your sandals on the concrete as he reaches for the hose, turning the spout and watching as it sputtered out slowly before it steadies and he spray them down before catching your feet, washing away the foamy liquid.
You jump slightly, mostly from the change in temperature against the humid, sticky heat of the sun as it beats down over the house, “You got that look,” Joel says offhandedly, reaching over to turn off the spigot and wrap the hose up.
You glance up at him, stepping out of the puddle of water, “What look?”
“Like someone stuck you in a cage full of bears and you ain’t got a clue how to respond,” The comparison makes you laugh, not because it was ridiculous, but because it was true. “I got—I got a place you can sit for a while, if you need the silence?”
There’s a weight lifting off your chest, one you hadn’t realized was there until he says the words.
You nod and Joel crooks a couple fingers your way, beckoning you to follow. 
Joel leads you back into the house, but takes a sharp right to the set of double doors leading to a separate room—bookshelves and stacks of unorganized papers, a desk cluttered with random items and an old desktop, an even dustier radio stuffed away in a corner.
“It’s my office, don’t use it much anymore,” Joel explains, but taps at the open double doors, “but it’s a good place to block out noise, if ‘ya need a minute.”
You step past him curiously, leaving a trail of wet footsteps that Joel would eventually clean up later. It was cluttered in the room but somehow brought a sense of comfort, clearly a place that Joel seeked out himself from time to time.
“There’s books, magazines—feel free to use the computer,” Joel waves vaguely, “although, I dunno how well it works, haven’t turned that thing on in ages.”
“Thank you,” You tell him sincerely, watching him nod as he closed the doors behind him and gave you free roam to look around, be curious.
And naturally, you were.
He had a large collection of music—CDs and cassettes, a shelf full of vinyl albums. Books, tons—something you assumed he’s collected naturally over the years. Most of it seemed fairly boring, non-fiction books on various topics; how-tos and instructional guides, nothing exciting. Your gaze tracks to his desk, running your fingers along the chair before you’re pulling it out and taking a seat, the plastic creaking with age.
You press a key on the keyboard but the computer refuses to come to life—you chew at the inside of your cheek, looking around at the pattern of squares on the wall, like missing pieces plucked from the wall—like dust collecting around picture frames that were no longer there. Your fingers dance along a drawer, twirling in your seat as you pulled at the handle and find a drawer full of thick files. But, on the top, a book with a sticky note is sitting alone, completely out of place.
Leave it, you tell yourself. 
Still, your fingers reach for it.
It’s a thick book, a soft-matte touch from cover to cover. It was mostly unsuspecting, a plain cover of a mirrored forest, the post-it stuck over the title but you’re too scared to remove it. You flip it over, reading over the summary on the back. The summary is dull, unsuspecting, but as you flip through the book, skimming from chapter to chapter you realize it is not that.
And to be fair, you knew this type of genre was something people were interested in, never laying eyes on it yourself. But, to see it stuffed away in the desk of one Joel Miller, is a fair surprise—you examine the text, hanging on every word as you delve deep, deep; into a scene of voyeurism amongst a group. Somewhere between that and the next chapter you get lost, only resurfacing when you hear a knock at the glass door to the room.
The book snaps shut as you spot Joel, who’s peeking his head in with an emotionless gaze. He could just be checking to make sure you’re not snooping too deep, but then he’s walking toward you at a leisurely pace, a fresh beer in his hand as he squints, looking at the book in your hand.
He plucks at the post-it and chuckles slightly.
“Forgot that thing was in there,” He tells you, “Tommy bought that—year ago, I think? One of his stupid gag gifts.”
“You’ve never read it?”
Joel shakes his head, lips pulled in a tight line of indifference as he sipped at his drink.
“If you like it, you can take it with you.”
And then he realizes his misstep, your eyes meeting awkwardly.
“I mean, I’ll be here permanently come Sunday, so—”
Joel smiles slightly, a subtle quirk of his lip, “Well, least I know you’ll bring it back.”
You follow his movement, his fingers gripping the aluminum can and the perspiration from the can wetting his fingers, sweating down his wrist and you subconsciously lick your lips before your teeth are dragging, digging into the flesh of it. He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing with the movement and Joel catches you, your intrigued gaze and volleys it with a question.
“Did you want a sip?” He says, mostly as a joke.
He remembers the time Sarah had come to him, piling onto his lap and with her constant stream of questions—he’d let her have the tiniest sip as she kept pressing on it and Joel knew there was no use in fighting the steadfast energy of an eight year old.
She hated it, immediately retching in disgust. Joel gave her a chuckled “I told ya so, kiddo.”
This was different, though. 
“I’m not twenty one,” You counter, mouth quivering down into a slight frown and your shoulders shrugging instinctively, “and my mother would kill me.”
But, you want to—not even driven by an act of rebellion. It was genuine curiosity.
Joel tilts his body, peeks around the corner and spots the pair still sat on the couch.
“What she doesn't know won’t hurt her,” Joel crosses that line for you, your hands cupping around his larger one as he guides it to your mouth, “s’not like you’re gonna go get piss drunk, right?”
You giggle softly at that, lips pressing into the can as he tilts it into your mouth. The vision of him is…overwhelming. Stood over you in the mostly unlit room, barefoot and jeans rubbing at the top of his feet, dark cotton shirt pulling over his shoulders and a few weeks of facial hair unkempt and outgrown. 
If your mother were to see, it would have been you.
Your fault. And again, maybe it was.
But Joel, he towers. You’re nearly eye-level with his waist but admittedly, they never leave his face. You sip gingerly, fingers curling around his own as you tip your head back and consume more, until your cheeks are puffing out with the liquid and you swallow, immediately grimacing at the taste as you pull away, sputtering out a soft cough as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“It’s an acquired taste,” Joel defends, not even bothering to wipe the rim as he takes another sip, somehow finding that more intimate than any of what had just happened between you both.
Neither of you say anything and you shake your head, fingers curling around the book in your lap.
“I’ll take your word for it,” You nod, but Joel can see the disgust for it on your face.
“Go on, take the book home,” Joel offers, “ain’t gonna be missed ‘round here.”
You smile sweetly, licking over your lips and tasting the remnants of the alcohol, a sign of sin amongst the many you had just committed, but the lack of guilt was startling. You couldn’t even begin to care.
When you leave, the book is tucked away in your bag and hidden. Joel is already cleaning up by the time your mother is rushing after you out the door and to the car, leaving a curious Tommy to linger around, helping Joel sparsely before he’s bugging Joel for a lighter.
Joel had quit smoking long ago, but still had a few lighters tucked away in his study.
Tommy searches around aimlessly, sifting through cups and drawers until he’s pulling open one, pausing, calling over to Joel curiously.
“You finally put up that book I gave you a goddamn century ago?”
His answer is your name as he turns the faucet off, wiping off the final dish.
“She seemed interested so I let her borrow it,” He calls over to Tommy, who’s leaning up with a wide-eyed but amused expression—it was clear that his brother was sometimes just as oblivious as him.
“Joel, you never read the damn book, did you?”
“Was I supposed to?”
Tommy makes a face, a smug smile fading in for a brief moment.
“Tommy, what was the book about?”
Tommy eventually finds the lighter, snatching it up with a ‘aha!’, trailing back over to Joel before he finally answers him.
“Thought I’d spice up your nightly reading, brother.” 
Joel can piece his words together; the innate smugness and tone that was edging toward a full-on chuckle, it wasn’t an appropriate piece. And given the stuff he did know of your mother, the worst choice of a genre for you to sneak home with.
“Did I do a bad thing?” Joel asks, “I mean, that girl is an adult—”
“Twenty, yeah. But, her mom—”
“Your fiance,” Joel clarifies, “she’ll be your step-daughter soon too, you realize that?”
“She can be a little—”
“Judgemental?” Joel finishes for him, drying his hands off with a dish towel before it toward the empty counter, “Freakish? She’s got your ass goin’ to church every Sunday, ain’t seen that before.”
Joel sighs, a clipped noise as he scratches at his forehead.
“I’m not judging, I swear. But, her moving here—I’m not feedin’ into that whole schtick.”
Tommy holds his hands up in defense, “She knows—”
“I fuckin’ hope so.”
The vision of the scene is imagined under the safety of your room that night, squinting to read the text under the dim light of your bedside lamp, words amongst feelings that weren’t foreign but often weren’t welcomed. You’ve had boyfriends and kisses, experiences like any other girl has, but you’ve shoved it away for far too long—it was years of high school, shying away from boys and girls only to finally find the freedom to branch out in college, but under the constant reminder of you mother’s generosity to allow you to finish schooling without the stress of work or the responsibility of earning your keep. He’ll guide you, she’d always remind you. A constant reminder that you were under his watch, more of a threat than anything. And your mother knew that.
The hand tucked under your chin switches to the other, your now free hand trailing down your chest and under the sheets, slipping past the snug waistband of your underwear. The scene was vivid, descriptive as the man pulled the female characters legs apart, exposing her, doting her with the kind of words that made your stomach swirl and your gut twist, dragging your middle finger down the center of your pussy and sighing at the slick that was already there, gathering up the wetness until you could guide it over your clit in quick, hurried circles.
You snap the book shut, biting on the corner of your pillow as you squeeze at the squishy fabric, squirming under the feeling of your impending orgasm, muffled moans slipping from your stuffed mouth as you feel it crash over you in a wave, eyes squeezing shut so tight you start to see the light. 
The comedown is slow, rolling over onto your back and silently slipping the book under your pillow and the guilt you usually feel is filled with nothing. You were empty, thoughts filling with vague images of someone, a man—faceless, but if you dug hard enough you’d know. 
So, you do. 
And with his face comes something you felt so often but pushed away.
Desire.
And for the one person you know you shouldn’t. 
The move takes place a few days later, endless hours spent packing boxes and putting the rest away in storage, several trips back and forth from the apartment to Joel’s house.
You often had to remind yourself it wasn’t Tommy’s. It was Joel’s—but Tommy was his brother and he wasn’t going to turn him away, so if there was anyone to respect, it was Joel.
The house had three bedrooms; Joel’s, the one Tommy and your mother would share, and the room with a door painted purple and covered in various things. Butterflies, flowers—it was off-limits and you didn’t attempt to make anyone budge on that matter. It was a sore spot for both of the Miller brother’s and when Joel offers up the attic, you’re quick to take it.
He’d even taken the time to make it somewhat liveable. A fresh coat of white paint, storage for clothes and some of your belongings you’d decided to bring along, a space for your bed and plenty of the furniture you couldn’t part with. Besides, it was nice having a level away from everyone else.
“The ladder does get stuck from time to time,” Joel admits as he stands a few feet away from you, watching as you look around curiously, “so, just give a holler. Hopefully one of us’ll be home if that happens.”
You laugh softly, dropping your bag to the floor and crouching, unzipping it and reaching in for a very specific item, pressing it into Joel’s hands as he’s expecting. His fingers curl around the side of the book and there’s an unspoken tension that fades as he speaks.
“Our secret, alright?” Joel’s eyes don’t leave yours, waiting for the confirmation of a nod.
You nod meekly, “She’d kill me, you know? I mean, not physically, but I’m sure she’d have an opinion on it.”
Joel nods in understanding, “Like I said, our secret.”
And given how rough the day was on everyone and once your bed was finally assembled in your room, you find yourself passing out without a moment of idle thinking, the exhaustion taking you the moment your body hits the sheets.
You wake up when the day has already gone, crickets chirping outside and the distant buzz of street lights outside the window above your bed. It’s dead silent in the house otherwise, aside from the hum of the central air and fan tucked in the corner of the room. You roll over and tap at your phone. It was a few minutes from midnight, one day fading into the next without waiting for you to catch up.
You rise groggily and rub at your tired eyes, placing your feet on the hardwood floor before deciding to take a walk down to the kitchen, feeling the dryness of your mouth as you licked at your lips. You’re careful as you open the entrance to the attic and lower the ladder, careful and quiet footsteps as you make your way down and close it, surprised at the growing hum and voices coming from the living room.
You edge close, soft and gentle footsteps as you pry the cabinet open and reach for a clean glass and turn on the faucet, filling it up halfway with water—that’s when you hear the hmph that warns you that you weren’t alone, spotting Joel turning over his shoulder to look at you. 
He seemed half-asleep too and you suspect he fell asleep on the couch, insomnia or exhaustion getting the better of him, you offer a quiet apology as you sip at the water.
“You’re alright,” He assures, rubbing two hands over his face and through his grown out locks, curling around the side of his neck and around his ears, “I was heading to bed anyways.”
Unlikely, you think. 
“What are you watching?” You speak softly, arms crossed your chest as the glass cup dangles from your fingertips, bare thighs pressing against the edge of the couch and Joel adjusts slightly, subconsciously making room for you. 
“Dawn of the Wolf,” Joel answers through a long yawn, “you seen it before?”
You tilt your head with a raised eyebrow, “Joel, come on—”
“Right,” He chuckles tiredly, “It’s some cheesy action movie I’ve seen a thousand times, it’s a—sometimes I just throw it on for background noise, hate sleepin’ in silence, you know?”
“Could you make it a thousand and one?” You ask curiously.
The bed he was heading toward was suddenly forgotten, watching as you eagerly climbed over the side of the couch and curled up on your own cushion, smiling slightly as he reached for the remote and started the movie over.
“Were you actually heading to bed?” You ask as the opening credits begin to play, “Because, if you were I won’t be offended—”
“I mean, I could. Probably need to, the havoc this couch does on my back.”
You offer a kind but lazy smile, half of your mouth arching up, “Besides, I’d ask way too many questions.”
Joel never does move, though. Almost like he’s resigned himself to that position until the movie was over, watching you occasionally with that familiar glaze over your eyes. It was the last movie he’d watched with Sarah before she passed, a few weeks shy of her fifteenth birthday.
By now, it was more of a foolproof method to help him sleep.
It was mostly poorly choreographed fight scenes and a dialogue heavy relationship between the two main characters that progressed unrealistically fast, forcing a laugh behind your palm after the male character professed his love after two days of knowing the other character and even Joel shakes his head at that. But, as the penultimate point of the movie comes, it hits a peak.
They’re sitting around a fire, obvious and unspoken tension lingering that snaps in an instant, one touch on the other and they’re on each other—Joel leans forward, reaching for the remote to skip past the scene, “No, don’t,” You tell him gently, your hand pressing against his palm.
The remote loosens in Joel’s grip and he settles, feet crossed over the coffee table.
Your head tilts, “It doesn’t even come across real,” You comment, “or believable, I guess.”
The sex—or lack thereof, a swarm of lust-filled gazes and strategically placed camera angles. It was mostly heavy pants and moans and Joel coughs into his balled fist to break the silence. You snicker softly and pull your legs up near your chest, head resting against your hand as you watch.
“Probably because it doesn’t work like that,” Joel comments after a while, pulling your attention to him suddenly, “sometimes it’s just—”
“Fucking,” You answer crudely, “for the sake of fucking.”
Joel looks like he wants to keel over, his face contouring in surprise as the words slip past your lips. It’s a sight, a matching set of pajamas he’s sure your mother gifted you, covered in some pattern that mimics the innocence that lies within you, a soft pastel color on satin fabric and that definitive cross that dangled at the center of your neck, slipping just between the press of your breasts—and yet, here you were, speaking to him like sin incarnate. 
“What?” It was amusing, in a way, “I got a strict mom, doesn’t make me a total prude.”
“Okay,” Joel feels the line drawing itself in the sand, or in this case, the middle of the couch, “you’re right—but we can move on from that.”
You offer a soft hum of acknowledgement, smiling at the way Joel continues to shake his head, biting back his own amusement in response.
Somewhere between there and the end of the movie, you both end up asleep on the couch, your feet tucked away in Joel’s lap and his hand resting over your ankles. It was easier falling asleep knowing Joel was near, oddly enough.
Things are set into motion very quickly after the first couple days. With wedding planning in full swing and your mother returning to her night shifts at the hospital, it was a sudden newfound freedom that you’d never experienced. Tommy and Joel were gone often too, sometimes for days at a time to work on site, only popping in every so often for little things. Showers, food, before they were back out for another twelve or so hours.
And with your semester of college over, you were left with the void of summer to fill up your time. It does take some convincing, but eventually your mother isn’t hovering as hard. Truthfully, you could thank Tommy for some of that.
“She’s not even a teenager anymore, she’ll be alright.”
It didn’t ease any of the restrictions she put on you in the past and it didn’t make you feel any better for feeling like you had to lie, hide—doing normal things that even if she did as a young girl, would find any reason to shame you over.
But, you were thankful with her infatuation over Tommy because it gave you a break.
Late nights at the beach with friends or last minute trips to the drive-in, it was a sorrowful peek at what you could have had for years, but only had the luxury of exploring recently, somehow always ten steps behind, still feeling that familiar strum of nervousness run through your body at the sight of a crush, somehow even more unavoidable now.
And Joel, well he hasn’t helped either.
Eventually, his own curiosity gets the better of him and he does read the book. His reader’s perched on his nose as he leaned back in the recliner, knowing that if he’s caught onto your schedule well-enough, you’d find yourself downstairs within the next few minutes.
You blamed the insomnia, but you always liked Joel’s company. At night, without the scrutinizing gaze of your mother when she was around, it was easier. 
You’re spreading peanut butter on a plate of sloppily sliced apples when you hear Joel flipping through the page of a book, the cover obscured by the knee he had propped up to lean it on.
“Anything interesting?” You ask casually, screwing the top back on the jar of peanut butter and leaning up on your toes to return it to the top shelf, ignorant to the eyes that catch your backside and the stretch of your top as it exposed your ass and the small piece of your underwear that peaked over the waistband of your shorts. 
You could blame it on the heat and that was partly the reason, but Joel notices the longer you settle in, the more comfortable you get, the conservativeness becomes less and less. It was subtle, shirt pulling up over your midriff or the collar of your shirt dipping a little lower than usual.
This time it was the shorts that hugged your ass and gave him an idea of every curve your body had been hiding and he felt his throat closing up at the thought, clearing it instinctively.
Joel sips on his beer, nursing it more like, as he shrugs and flips to the next page.
You’re curious, sliding the plate into your palm and making your way toward him, finger sliding over the cover and lifting it. Joel doesn’t stop you, but he rolls his eyes at the grin that breaks out on your face, tongue pressing into your cheek and you know–he knows.
“Good, isn’t it?” 
If he only knew how many times you found yourself knuckle deep inside of your cunt with a whisper of a sigh on your lips, shame for the obscure pictures of the characters slowly morphing into him—it wasn’t like you had tried for that, your own subconscious betraying you. 
Something in the bridge of your words and the look on your face has him pushing his glasses up his forehead and into his hair, swiping an apple off your plate and into the thick peanut butter before he’s shoving the fruit into his mouth and biting into it with a loud crunch.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” You smirk, walking backwards slowly until your calves hit the couch and you took a seat, turning it to a random channel playing some televised drama, legs stretched out in front of you and the gentle slope of your shoulders on display as you shoved the apple slice past your lips, licking up the remnants of peanut butter on your finger and Joel almost forgets what he’s doing, feeling the book slip from his hands and hit the glass bottle still half full, sending it pooling into his lap and you look over with a tickled expression. “Too much, I guess?”
“You’re a little shit, you know,” Joel comments as he tosses the book aside and departs quietly, bedroom door shutting behind him as he turns in for the night. There wasn’t an ounce of bite in his tone.
Joel doesn’t know what he expected of you—maybe something more docile, but you were anything but as time grew on and you realized that under the obvious distraction that your mother was dealing with, you found yourself pushing that line more and more.
There’s a particular night when an argument with your mother ends up with Tommy and Joel getting caught in the blowback of it, leaving both of the men at a loss for words. It was the first time they had seen the real, full extent of a meltdown from your mother. Tommy had seen glimpses, blips—but, Joel. It was a first.
It started over a simple question, harmless.
“It’s one dinner—I’ll be there and back before midnight. I don’t see the big deal?”
“Big deal? Honey, we’ve got plans tomorrow. Dress shopping, cake tasting—I was cooking a nice dinner tonight that we could all enjoy, as a family. Seein’ as we’re all somehow, by the grace of god, under this damn roof at the same time for once. And you leavin’ looking like that? I don’t think so.”
Family. Joel seems to find distaste in the word, his eyes flicking toward his brother briefly. He doesn’t understand her final point either, jean shorts and a tank top in the humid Austin heat in the middle of June seemed like a perfectly reasonable option, but it clearly struck a nerve.
“I don’t even know why I’m asking,” You counter, “I mean, this is Joel’s house, after all. Shouldn’t I ask him for permission?” You turn to him, a low blow at your mother, “Joel, do you care if I—”
Joel hesitates for half a second and you thought he might answer.
A sharp, but swift blow to your cheek has you stopping cold, eyes pulling up to anywhere but your mother and of course, they land on Joel who’s jaw is clenched so tight you think it might snap, matching Tommy’s shocked expression but Joel's was laced with an undertone of rage, simmering slowly.
There was nothing but silence, shoving past her with a charge of your shoulder and then past Tommy who has just enough time to side-step and catch your mother as she turns after you, the realization of her actions settling with her, her open hand balling into a closed fist before she drops it.
Joel was quickly discovering that this living situation was a lot more than he’d bargained for.
Tommy had taken your mother out for the night, rented out a hotel after dinner and allowed her the space to cool down but Joel had stayed up, mostly in anticipation that you had forgotten the spare key he’d given you in the quick flee, walking halfway down the block and then some, desperately waiting for your friends to swoop in and save you.
It was just supposed to be dinner at the local diner in town, but catching up with a classmate you hadn’t seen in weeks quickly turned into a night drive that reached well past midnight, eventually pulling out front of Joel’s house, receiving the less than gentle kiss the boy had been building up to all night.
Joel hears the low roar of the engine outside of his house, lowering the volume on the television as he walked toward the door and glanced through the window, fingers curling the small curtain that covered it and there’s a moment where he decides—do something or do nothing, but even then he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.
Not as you lean over the console of the car and into the lap of the faceless person in the driver’s seat, his hand all over you—Joel knows, you’re hoping that your mother would catch, that she’d end up more furious than she was earlier and then some.
The horn beeps as you fumble inside the car, the heat of the moment broken as your back dug into the steering wheel and his breath was hot against your neck and suddenly you wanted nothing to do with this, watching the glow of television through the front window of Joel’s home, knowing he was awake.
There’s a shadow that crosses the window and confirms your suspicion—you weren’t ever truly free, there was always someone watching. Joel seemed like the likely suspect and that was worse than your mother when you actually took the time to think it over.
The departure is quick, shoes scuffing against the pavement as you meet the front door, jiggling with the doorknob before it’s being opened from the other side.
Joel’s eyes follow you as you walk inside, toeing your shoes off near the door and finding that you don’t even have the energy to make a remark at him, nothing funny, nothing snide. You look over your shoulder briefly and find him watching, not so much staring, but he was following your movements. You’re right around the corner as he finally speaks and you stop, closing your eyes as you take a slow, deep breath.
“She’s not home,” He informs you, “left with Tommy about an hour ago.”
It was unwanted information, unneeded. You mumble an acknowledgement but he’s speaking again when he notices you move, forcing you to turn on your heels and look at him.
“Are you doin’ it to piss her off?” Joel asks. His intention was unclear, whether he was trying to get under your skin or not, but with the rage still lurking in the back of your mind, it takes on a mind of its own.
“What do you care, Joel?”
“She ain’t my favorite person, I think you know that. But, if she’d caught you just know, she’d have your ass—”
“She didn’t,” You retorted. It’s the first time you see Joel frustrated, his brow creasing and the hands at his side slide into his pocket.
“You’re actin’ out,” Joel concludes and there’s a squint of your eyes as they narrow that tells Joel he’s right, “and under my roof—”
“Oh, so that’s what it’s about,” You tell him, arms crossing over your chest as you step toward him, floorboards creaking under bare feet as you approach him, “what—are you gonna punish me then?”
“Not my business,” Joel tells you, “I ain’t like your mother. But you keep doing this, actin’ out. Something bad is gonna happen soon enough.”
“Then—what?” You ask, trying to surmise a path to both please him and shut him up—unfortunately for him, you know just how, “Would you rather me act out with you?”
“Now, that ain’t what I—“
“Make sense, don’t it? My mother would be so grateful you’re keeping your eyes on me, watching after her little girl.”
“I suggest you tone it down,” His voice is different—nothing you’ve heard before and it should scare you, but it doesn’t.
“Or what?” You retort carelessly, “You’ll do it for me?”
There was that face again, jaw clenched. His gaze never left yours, only following you as you grew closer.
“You can teach me all the stuff I’ve missed out on,” You smile slightly, “I mean, you’ve done alright so far.”
He says your name and for a moment, it scares you. But, it was a warning—don’t cross that line, don’t blur it.
“I’m messing with you, Joel.” 
It’s a believable lie, one you can even convince yourself of.
His breath hitches slightly, breathing out through his nose as he nods at your response, “Just, be smarter. Alright?”
Your aggressive approach breaks, offering a sweeter smile as you back away, hands falling to your side. He can see the smear of your gloss at the corner of your mouth, half-tempted to swipe it away and clean you up.
“I will,” You appease, “can I go up to my room now?”
Joel offers a lazy glare of dissonance, not giving you an answer before he’s brushing by, off to his office that you hadn’t been able to spend much time in since the cookout. 
If he could be stubborn, so could you.
The tension between your mother doesn’t settle, but she does attempt to be civil. You often thwart off any attempt at a conversation that would lead into anything other than necessary communication. It feels wrong, you know it is—but you couldn’t bear the thought of trying to explain to your mother how you were beginning to believe her so-called beliefs were a complete joke, pushing an insane and untenable rhetoric on you.
Joel isn’t as warm either, keeping his distance beyond the night you had lost your footing with him and slipped, offering him an opening that would lead you both down a dangerous path. It had mostly been a joke but you could never admit to yourself how badly you wanted him to agree. The idea of it.
There is a point where under almost constant supervision of one of them, all of them flitting out of the house at some time or another, that you find a window (figuratively and physically) to sneak out of, preparing yourself for a night that your mother would have shamed you about until you found yourself six feet under. It was hypocrisy, actually–knowing your mother was doing similar things at an even younger age, with much less mindful thinking. 
And you might have pushed it a little too hard when you reach the front door that night, the floor spinning as you fumbled with the lock again—though, of course, Joel was saving the day.
“Do you ever sleep?” You gripe, eyes squinting as you stumble inside and out of your shoes with a wobbly wave of your arms, reaching out blindly for anything but finding nothing, almost tumblring over the motion but Joel is catching your arm silently, holding you upright. 
He knows that smell, you reek of sweet alcohol and cheap booze.
“I was makin’ sure you got home,” Joel admits, “that a crime?”
“Yes,” You slur softly, “and crime—” You giggle slightly, stumbling closer and pressing your hand into his chest to steady yourself, “means punishment.”
Joel looks down carefully, watching your fingers curl over the collar of his shirt and the sensation of your body, warm and so soft as it pressed against his own.
“Unless, you’d rather punish me,” You offer, the deep buzz of alcohol inflicting your mind and thought process as you pull at his shirt, feeling the stitching rip slightly under your grip and you make a delighted noise, instantly leaning forward to press your lips to his neck.
Joel should’ve pulled you away minutes ago, but again, he’d allowed it to go a step too far.
A step closer to breaking—closer to complete corruption.
Joel wraps his hand around the back of your neck and squeezes, pulling you back easily despite your desperate grip, eyes blown out and wide as you peer up at him, so dazed he isn’t even sure it’s you talking.
“You can,” You admit, mouth parting open as you lick your lips, “I want you too, Joel.”
Joel’s nostrils flare as he forces your hands away more sternly, throwing them at your side until the dejected look forms on your face, stumbling back sadly.
“You need to sleep this off,” Joel tells you
But, you already have the idea in mind as you shove him away, stepping around him awkwardly until you can reach the couch, your limbs falling lazily against the cushion as you curl up, hazy gaze meeting his one final time before you eyes close and for once, Joel fides security in his room and tries to calm his rapidly beating heart—a mix of worry and guilt, knowing if he’d had enough alcohol and inhibition in his system he wouldn’t be as strong, given so easily into that temptation as you had.
But, if routine proved you right, it wouldn't be the last time you’d speak to him that night.
Joel was a creature of habit.
The nights that he is able to sleep have been few and far between and he can hear you moving around upstairs, early hours of the morning when he’s in and out of an exhausted daze and in your own similar nature, he hears it. There’s a creak and slow footsteps that traverse the floor above him, but there was no world where he could face you right now. He’s not sure when you decided to move upstairs that night, a curious but lucrative thought in the back of his mind.
Do you remember?
He spends the last hour flexing his achy fingers to distract him from the subtle ache in his pants.
Joel wasn’t a father anymore, the part of him was buried away and long-forgotten, the pieces of that part of him dissolved away through the years of tears and alcohol and constant repression. 
Watching after her little girl.
It’s asinine, knowing you were anything but. He had no intentions of being that sort of figure over you, you didn’t need watching—or guidance from him, even. A protector? Maybe, but that wasn’t his job either.
Keeping your eyes on me.
He couldn’t keep his eyes off you, in fact. And as the realization clicks, he knows he’s fucked.
He’s barricading himself in the bathroom before he puts himself through the suffering of another nightly conversation with you, especially after how things had left off hours before, turning on the shower in a hurry as he hears the latch to the attic release and your impending arrival.
He strips, pulling his shirt up from the center of his back and over his shoulders, working hastily at his jeans and climbing into the shower, palms pressed against the tile wall in front of him as the stinging, hot water hits his back and soothes the soreness that lingering in his joints. It did nothing for his cock which had gone from half-hard in his jeans to standing proud, insistently.
He couldn’t ignore it—and he knows under the safety of the constant stream of water, muffling out the ragged sigh that escapes his lips as he fists his cock in a tight grip—he hasn’t ached like this in years, knowing he was well past his prime, in his mind. 
Unfortunately, the unraveling of it all would come down to the slippery lock on the bathroom door. It only stuck half of the time, eventually worming its way out of place and leaving the steam to slip through the cracks, but Joel is oblivious.
You find your footing as you step off the ladder, still reeling from your drunken stupor as you make your way down the hall, spotting the faint flickering of a light from the bathroom that told you Joel still hadn’t changed that lightbulb, but also that he was in there—it couldn’t be anyone else. You only vaguely remember your actions from earlier, but you didn’t forget the look on his face—the frustration. The want. Your footsteps are quiet, praying feverishly that they wouldn’t creak under the pressure of your feet as you peek your head into the crack, eyes scanning the mirror placed over the sink and suddenly, they stop.
Freeze, more like.
The shower curtain is shifted back just enough that you catch the front of his chest, so broad that it doesn’t even capture the full width of him, muscles in his shoulders straining as your eyes follow the length of his arm and down, until your eyes connect with the sight of his cock, fisted in his hand as he jerked himself earnestly, unabashedly with impatience. His head is hung too, water damping his hair over his forehead and obscuring his face.
You can hear him, though. God, you could fucking hear him.
His knuckles curl into the tile wall where his other hand still rest, balling into a fist as he punched it out of frustration, grunting with how tightly he was squeezing himself and the pace at which he was fucking his fist. 
It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen such a sight, but with Joel it was bigger, intimidating—in every sense of the word.
His cock, for one, was larger than any you’ve seen before.
And with shame, your mouth watered at the sight. 
His groans, a gentle guh that sounds like a prayer of something else but is strangled, his movements becoming jerky as his speech becomes slightly clearer, “God—fuckin’,” He heaves, the sound of wet skin and water under the speed of his movement, “—girl, always testin’ me.”
You swallow at the mention, fingers curling dangerously around the door frame—one misstep, one slip and you’d swing that door right open, revealing yourself. 
He leans his head up suddenly, eyes closed as his arm works furiously. Your ears are locked on his face now and you see the way his lips form around your name as he utters it, so quiet you barely hear it but it was you. There was no mistaking that.
He comes a few moments later, his thumb rubbing over the tip of his cock and circling as he shot his load into his palm, knowing that he could make a mess if he wanted to but decided not to, using his slick covered hand to drag over his cock a few more times as it softened in his hand.
Fortunately, you’re long gone by the time he’s reaching for a towel, back upstairs like you’d never even been there in the first place.
There was no denying it now, though. It wasn’t in your head—the temptation was real, tangible, and just within reach. 
Because with that temptation came doubt, followed by mistakes.
And really, you wish you were strong enough to resist.
Unfortunately, you weren’t. So, you plan. 
He was already a broken man, but you needed him shattered.
-
divider creds: @/cafekitsune
1K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 3 months ago
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home run | s.r.
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in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: sex bro idk. the sweatshirt. smut with a lot of plot, glasses!spencer, dostoyevsky, paulo coelho, ur crazy if you think i proofread this, flirrrrrrting, protected p in v sex, fingering, heavy petting, post coital dysphoria (why can't i let them simply have a nice time) word count: 4.01k a/n: next on my quest to give fanfic readers realistic sex to read, i give you this! as always, tell me how u feel, my inbox is always open.
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“Will you unzip me?” You asked softly, pulling your hair out of the way and turning your back to Spencer, who paused his own disrobing to undo the zipper of your dress.
It’d been a long day, the light hours spent in the BAU, and the evening spent at Rossi’s, who wanted to get at least one more cookout in before the weather turned. You’d finally reached the end of your day, and for the first time, you were spending it with Spencer.
Facing away from him still, you let the fabric drop to the floor, taking your sweatshirt from your go bag and tugging it over your head. Spencer hummed from behind you, “I can’t believe you still wear that.”
A small smile formed on your face as you turned around. “It’s comfortable,” you justified, the old FBI Academy sweatshirt had previously lived in Spencer’s apartment, but you’d claimed it for yourself nearly two years ago. It had the perfect amount of wear, making it one of your favorites—among other reasons.
You tried not to let your eyes linger while Spencer changed, instead focusing on details in his room that you’d never seen before and making note of what books he kept on his nightstand. “It’s old,” Spencer responds plainly, putting on an old MIT t-shirt and reaching out for you, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.
Before being with Spencer, you wouldn’t have considered yourself the kind of person to take things slowly, but with him, that was the only option you were willing to consider. You were so scared of things being ruined with him that you only made moves when you knew you were absolutely ready. Maybe that was why it took you nearly two years before the two of you started dating, but he was willing to walk the tightrope with you.
You walked around the bed, sitting up on the mattress and watching him go into the bathroom, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” He asked from the bathroom, coming back out with his glasses on and leaning against the doorframe.
Humming, you look over at him, “Didn’t think that far ahead?” A teasing lilt carried through your question, cocking your head as he made his way over to you. He’d asked you on Monday if you’d like to spend Friday night at his place, and he had seemed surprised when you accepted his offer.
“I have a few ideas, but I wanted to see if there was something specific you had in mind. Since you’ve already interrupted your usual schedule to stay here, I wanted to give you a choice,” he rambled. He always rambled when he was nervous.
You raised your eyebrows curiously, “Spence?”
With him standing in front of you, you studied his eyes. His contacts had a blue tint to them, so seeing him in his glasses was really your only opportunity to see his eyes as they truly appeared. “Yeah, baby?”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, “We don’t have to do anything special. What would you be doing if I weren’t here?”
“Reading,” he told you unabashedly.
Honestly, you should’ve guessed that. “Okay, then we can read. Do you have a book I can borrow?”
Spencer nodded, “You’re welcome to anything, but are you sure? We could find a movie to watch instead.”
“We don’t have to do anything special just because it’s our first night together, and besides, reading side by side sounds nice,” you told him, waving off his concerns about entertainment and walking into the living room, scanning over his extensive collection. Plucking one off the shelves, you return to Spencer, watching him pull the covers down on the bed, preparing both yours and his side.
You set your book on the nightstand and climbed up on the mattress, his box spring causing it to be almost precariously high. “The Alchemist?” He questioned, reading the title of the book that you had selected.
Tracing the title with your fingertip, you shrugged, “I’ve never read it. Should I pick a different book?”
He shook his head in response, “No, and I don’t want to influence your opinion with mine.”
“Well, what are you reading?” You peered over to look at the book in his hands, reading the cover, “How many times have you read that book?” Since you started dating four months ago, he’d read Crime and Punishment at least three times.
Flipping the book back open, Spencer went back to the pages, “I’ve never read this version before, the editor decided to publish his thoughts along with the translated text.”
You raised your eyebrows curiously, “And what are your thoughts on that?”
“I think his translation of the original Russian is perfectly adequate, but his comments read like a high schooler who was forced to read the book for a class,” he explained, his hand absentmindedly resting on your bare thigh once you settled into the bed.
Humming, you opened your book, reading the foreword and trying to ignore Spencer’s hand placement. There was no reason to lose your mind over a little thigh touching.
Once you made it to the beginning of the actual story, you became vaguely aware of Spencer’s thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your thigh, leading to you closing the book and setting it back on the bookshelf. Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your side, leaving Spencer to move his hand from your skin, and you rested your head on his shoulder.
You looked up at him, watching his lips move as he read the words on the page, you felt very lucky to have this part of Spencer. The Spencer who let his glasses slide to the very bottom of his nose and had an affinity for reruns of cartoons from the eighties. “Are you alright?” He whispered once he finished his chapter, reaching an arm up to ruffle your hair affectionately.
“Mhm,” you murmured, “Don’t feel like reading.”
Gently, Spencer craned his head to drop a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, eliciting a small smile from you. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.
As odd as it seemed, you liked watching him read, at the very least, it was impressive to watch. You kept your eyes on him, watching how intently he focused on the book despite having read it several times before.
He looked back down at you, catching you staring, “Can I kiss you?”
The question took you by surprise, but you nodded in response, looking at him as he ducked his head down and pecked your lips. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, putting his free hand in front of his mouth as he went back to reading.
In his defense, his resolve lasted for one more chapter, turning the page before snapping the book shut and resting it on his nightstand. Spencer turned his head to yours again, “Hey.”
“Hi,” you responded, unsure about where he was headed with this. Opening your mouth to ask him a question only to be met with his lips on yours, he took his time now, resting a hand on the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb at the hinge of your jaw as he held you close.
Tentatively, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and that single motion drew a small moan from the back of your throat, causing you to pull away from Spencer.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
Spencer shook his head, pulling at your waist, “C’mere,” he said, encouraging you to straddle him, your knees on either side of his hips, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning forward and resting your hands on his chest, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “This is okay,” you whispered against his lips.
It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t made out before, it was usually just on the couch, or in Spencer’s reading chair, or one time when you were the only two on the jet. This—making out in his bed—it felt different somehow.
Coming back up for air, you looked up at Spencer, a giggle escaping your throat as you tried to meet his eyes. “Oops,” you said, his glasses had fogged up while you were kissing, so you leaned back while he took them off, resting them on his nightstand.
Spencer rested his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently massaging over your hip bones as you studied his expression, “Honey,” he said, suddenly serious, “I want you to know that I didn’t invite you to spend the night with this in mine.”
He was drawing the same conclusions as you, but still, you looked at him doubtfully, “Do you mean to tell me that the prospect of sex didn’t even cross your mind when it came to inviting me to spend the night?”
A soft pink bloomed across his cheeks, you found yourself wanting to kiss them, “Okay, maybe it occurred to me that we might find ourselves in this position.”
You straightened up slightly, “So, I trust you have a condom.”
Nodding, Spencer reached a hand up and smoothed your hair back with the kind of tenderness that made you want to cry. “I do, but we don’t have to have sex tonight, okay?”
“But I want to,” you responded, maybe a tad too quickly. Your face warms, “I mean… I’d like to. If you want to.” With an air of finality, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, one of your hands found a home in his hair while the other rested on his collarbone.
As if on cue, the phone started to ring. An incessant blare designed to wake you up in case you were being called in in the middle of the night. Spencer chuckled as you dramatically dragged yourself off of his lap and dug through your bag for your phone.
If it were Penelope or Hotch, you’d answer without a second thought, but the caller ID showed your sister on the other line. You declined the call, texting her an excuse before leaving your phone on the nightstand.
Spencer dragged his fingertips down your arm, “Who was it?”
“JJ,” you told him leaning back over his torso and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I’ll call her back later,” you continued, kissing the other corner of his mouth.
He hummed in response, settling his hands on your waist, “Tomorrow?” He proposed, gently guiding your back to the bed.
Nodding, you looked up at him, “Tomorrow,” you confirmed, sighing contently as your legs fell open, giving him the room he needed to rest his body between them. You’d never felt so at ease in bed with someone, no one had ever touched you so carefully before.
“Good,” he whispered against your lips, gently parting them with his own as you looped your arms over his shoulders, “Hold on,” he said, pulling back and climbing off of the bed.
Your eyes followed him intently as he stopped in front of his go bag, unzipping the side pouch and pulling out a familiar-looking box. “You’ve been keeping condoms in your go bag?” Your question is succeeded by a fit of giggles, any nervousness disappearing at the realization that Spencer’s been carrying contraception with him all day.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer lobbed the box at you, but you were still laughing too hard to be bothered by the lightweight box hitting your arm. “Excuse me for wanting to be prepared,” he teased back, climbing up on the bed and finding a spot right next to you.
“No, you’re right,” you said, continuing to giggle despite your best attempts to stop. “Okay, I’m sorry, let me put on my serious face,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line, holding them together with your teeth as you tried to stop any giggles from escaping. “You would make a great boy scout,” you told him, failing to keep a straight face.
Sighing, Spencer kissed your smiling lips, giving you a soft peck between every word he said.
“You’re.”
Kiss.
“So.”
Kiss.
“Cute.”
By the final kiss, you’re ready to ascend into the heavens. Knowing you can die happy because you’ve known what it’s like to love him. You’re not even worried about the fact that he chose to call you cute as opposed to hot or sexy. Spencer’s never let you consider the idea of being someone other than who you are.
“I love you,” you whispered, looking at him as he positioned himself between your legs again, taking your lower lip between your teeth because this time you could feel his length. Even through three layers of fabric, his hardness pressed against your core in a way that made your head spin.
Spencer hummed, “I love you too.” His tone was careful as his hands slipped up your sweatshirt, a totem to show where the two of you started and where you are now. His fingers wandered over your skin, an exploration of your body as the hem of the sweatshirt started riding up your waist, “your heart is racing.”
You sat up, trying to encourage him to take your sweater off, “You have that effect on me.” You took a deep breath as he followed your cue and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, once he tossed it to the hamper, you pushed at his t-shirt, whipping it off his body without a care in the world.
He was just looking at you, just studying you in the way someone would look at a piece of art. Feeling encouraged, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting the fabric fall off of your chest before dropping it just off the side of the bed. “Pretty,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss you again, his lips making their way along your jawline, along the column of your throat, and just below your collarbones. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, rendered uncharacteristically at a loss for words at the sight of you topless.
You gasped as his lips attached themselves to your chest, sucking at the soft skin and leaving little love bites behind. He moved his hand to gain better balance, leaving one at the side of your head, “Ow, Spence,” you yelped.
Spencer’s head snapped up, “Are you okay?” He asked, more fear in his voice than was strictly necessary for the issue.
“Your hand is on my hair,” you said, moving your hair behind your head when he instantly moved his hand.
He dropped a kiss to your forehead, oddly domestic for the state of undress you were in, “I’m sorry, honey.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay, c’mere,” you whispered, placing your hand on the back of his head and guiding his lips to yours. Slowly, you extend your free arm between your bodies, slipping your hand between the elastic of his briefs and his stomach, wrapping your hand around his shaft.
He moaned into your mouth at the contact, his lips faltering against yours as you ran your thumb over the tip, gathered his precum on your finger, and withdrew your hand, bringing your hand up to your separated mouths and sucking the liquid off of your thumb. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck, bringing his lips further down your chest until he took your nipple in his mouth, nipping at it gently with his teeth while his fingers wandered up to play with your other breast, massaging the flesh.
“Oh,” you breathed, looking up at the ceiling fan and trying to stop your hips from bucking up as his mouth separated from your breast with a wet pop, his hand skimming down your torso and stopping just above the hem of your underwear, looking to you for permission before he exposed your core.
Slowly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties and dragged them down your legs, leaving them on the mattress for you to find easily as he pushed your knees apart. His hand made its way to your pussy, fingers dragging lazily up and down your slit, “Is this okay?”
Nodding, “Yeah,” you answered, bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers, but you were surprised when it didn’t come yet. Instead, his index finger pressed gently against your clit, softly rubbing at the bundle of nerves, trying to prepare you. A soft whine escaped your lips at the sight, “Will you kiss me?” You asked, your eyes wide and pleading with him.
Obliging your wishes, he left his hand in its place while he pressed his lips against yours, you slid your tongue into his mouth, running the tip of it along his bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he played with your clit, need growing in your core as his fingers moved.
“Ah,” you gasped against his mouth when he slipped a finger into your hole, separating your lips while you tipped your head back against the pillows. “Oh, wow,” you breathed at the feeling of him knuckle-deep in you, his finger remaining still while you adjusted to the intrusion.
Spencer hummed, bringing his head back down and resting it on your tummy while he curled his fingers in your cunt. You brought your hands down to rest on his head, tugging at his hair while he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, wet squelching sounds emanating from your core as he did.
A moan was ripped from your throat when he added another finger to the mix, stretching your pussy even further while you felt your walls contract around his hand. “Spence,” you breathed, moaning again at the sensations that were coursing through your body, “Spence, baby.”
He tore his eyes away, looking up at you while his hand slowed slightly—just in case, “What do you need, honey?”
Honey. The sweet pet name plucked at your heartstrings as you propped yourself up on your elbows, “I’m— Can we...?” You started, not sure how to proposition him. Can we have sex? Seemed like too little too late. Will you make love to me? Made you want to throw up in your mouth a little bit. “Will you fuck me?” Was what you settled on, albeit a bit crude, but it was your best option at the time.
He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, eliciting a whimper from you at the emptiness, he reached over for the box of condoms that he had previously thrown at you, handing the box to you so he could shed his boxer briefs.
Staring at the way his cock stood at attention, you considered wrapping your mouth around him, just for a moment, but Spencer didn’t seem interested in anything other than doing what you’d asked of him. Instead, you reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around the base. He was already plenty hard, but you felt the need to reciprocate pleasure, which is why you were surprised when he moved your hand before you could even start.
“It’s okay,” he reassured you, and you nodded a response, telling yourself you’d remember to return the favor in the future. Maybe in the morning.
Handing him a lavender packet, you watched as he carefully tore the package open, pinching the tip and rolling the condom over himself. “Is this good?” You asked, lying on your back as you watched him settle back between your legs, your breath hitched as his cock lined up with your entrance.
Spencer nodded, “You’re perfect. I’ll go slow, okay?” He rubbed at your thigh comfortingly, waiting for you to give him another okay before he started pushing into you. Between your wetness and the added lubrication of the condom, he slid in with little resistance, but he took it slowly, just like he had promised.
He watched you the whole time with the knowledge that you hadn’t had sex in years, the last thing he’d want to do was cause you any pain.
Once he was fully sheathed in you, you buried your face in his neck, pressing little kisses to his soft skin as you focused on anything other than the pressure in your core.
“I’m okay,” you whispered, he didn’t even have to ask you for the reassurance. “I’m— fuck,” you cried out, unable to help the way your walls tightened around his cock. “You can move,” you told him, your voice muffled against his neck.
He inhaled sharply as he pulled his hips from yours before slowly pressing them back together, “I love you.”
You nodded, “I love you too,” you murmured, muffling your moans in his neck as a courtesy to his neighbors, unable to control them as his tentative thrusts turned into a steady rhythm. Carefully thrusting into you while he moved one of his hands up, intertwining your fingers with his at the side of your head—minding his hand placement.
Hooking your ankles together behind his back, you squeezed his hand at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. He continued fucking into you, pushing your legs open even further until he hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars.
“Spence,” you cried out, trying to warn him about your impending orgasm before it washed over you. Your walls uncontrollably clenched around him as you fully muffled yourself against him, soft squeaks escaping your mouth as he kept going, the pulsating of your pussy driving him even closer to his own orgasm.
His hips stuttered in their movements as you pulled your face from his neck, breathing the cool air as Spencer spilled his cum into the condom. His head drooped, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone as the both of you caught your breath. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warned you, carefully slipping his softened cock from your hole.
A slight panic came over you as you felt tears well up in your eyes faster than you could process them, hiccupping for air as they fell down into your hairline.
That got Spencer’s attention, lifting himself and looking at you, “Hey,” his voice was so soft, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Bordering on babbling, you shook your head, “No, I’m fine,” you cried, more tears falling from your face. “I don’t even know why ‘m crying,” you told him, resting a hand on your chest.
“Shh, hey,” Spencer cooed, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Gingerly, he laid down on his back and pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he smoothed your hair back comfortingly. “There are just a lot of emotions going through you right now, and that’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”
You nodded slowly, “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, having ruined a perfect first time by bursting into tears immediately after.
Spencer pressed a tentative kiss to your hairline, “It’s okay, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s completely normal,” he murmured, one hand in your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “You’re alright. Hey, it’s called post-coital dysphoria, and it happens to about forty-six percent of people,” he told you.
Despite yourself, you gave a breathy laugh, “I feel like you’re making that up so I’ll feel better.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with your fingers.
“It’s a real thing, I promise,” he reassured you, continuing to comfort you until tears stopped falling. “Hey, what do you say we get cleaned up and we can watch something in bed.”
You hummed in response, “You don’t like screens in your room, you say it messes with your REM sleep.”
“It does mess with your REM sleep, but I’d be willing to make an exception for you tonight,” he said, smiling softly when you lifted your head from his chest. “Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”
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luveline · 10 months ago
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How about ploy marauders going to a party and Sirius promised to do readers make up, but is late so the other two are making an attempt. Sure they might know how to do Sirius's messy style, but do they know big dramatic styles? Can James do a perfect wing?
<3 fem, 1k
“Can you stay still?” Remus asks, turning your face a half inch where it’s held in his hand. 
“Can James stop kissing me?” you ask. 
James pulls his face from the curve of your neck, the warmth of his lips lingering on your skin. “Sorry, are you busy?” 
“You’re supposed to be helping.”
“Don’t act like you weren’t enjoying yourself.” 
You smile. Remus rubs the softest curve under your eye with his thumb, the tip of his tongue sticking out between his lips. He doesn’t know he’s doing it, concentrating instead on your face and the wetness of your makeup where it’s beginning to sink in. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he sighs. 
“You know better than I do,” James says. 
You don’t know a thing about it, that’s why you’d arranged for Sirius to do your makeup tonight before Marl’s birthday bash, but where is your awful boyfriend? Late, decidedly unavailable for makeup-ing. 
“You’ve done his mascara a thousand times,” James argues with Remus. 
“Yes, but Sirius has never asked me to do his blush.” Remus’ hand moves to the side of your face. “You are lovely, though. I think using only a little of everything is working in our favour.” 
“Sirius only lets him do mascara because he already has nice eyelashes,” you worry. It won’t matter if Remus messes up or doesn’t get close enough to the root. 
“Yes, and because he likes it when Remus holds his face like that,” James points out, eyeing Remus’ hand where it stays at your cheek. Remus has long fingers, ever-so slightly thick with two golden rings that kiss your chin as he lets his hand fall, and he’s always gentle. 
“James, I’m tapping out.” 
James pretends to roll up sleeves he isn’t wearing, your bulkiest boyfriend in a short-sleeved t-shirt that showcases the lean muscle of his forearms, the not so lean ridges of his biceps. They tense as he sits up, his knee jabbing yours, the bed creaking dangerously beneath your angled weight. “What’s there left to do? She’s gorgeous.” 
“What did you want?” Remus asks you. 
“Uh, I wanted, you know…” You sound ridiculously shy. You wish you could just do all of this faff by yourself rather than force their attention, but neither boy seems annoyed. “He does that smudgey eyeliner, it makes my eyes look bigger. And lipgloss, but I can do that myself.” 
“Are you kidding? That’s the best part,” James says. He gives you a smile confident enough to reassure you and handsome enough to make you shy from his touch all over again. “Pass me the black pencil, Remus. I’ve got this.” 
James does not got this, his expression melding from happy, adoring, to perturbed, and then annoyed. “Aw, I’ve fucked it.” 
Remus shakes his head vehemently. “You haven’t! We just need a wet wipe.” 
They search the room for Sirius’ wet wipes and come up empty-handed. A towel is wetted and taken carefully to your eyes instead, cold and rough on your eyelids. 
“Be gentler,” Remus whispers. 
James is practically atop you know, your chin tilted up to his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers in turn, then to you solely, “‘m I hurting you?” 
“No.” You’re whispering too. It feels appropriate; they’re both very close to you, and this movement might fix or ruin your makeup with the party’s start time drawing ever closer. 
“I think I’ve fixed it,” James says, taking the pencil up again, the nib soft as it rolls over the corner of your eye. “Sirius can perfect it in the car, right?” 
“I thought you were good at everything?” you ask. 
James turns your face up impossibly higher, craning his head down for a peck. “Yes,” he whispers severely, “I’m good at everything. But Sirius is usually better. Quick, let’s find your lipgloss before we’re late.” 
Remus tries to tell James that it isn’t true, a serious conversation at a bad time, and James won’t listen to a word of it. They quibble over who’s doing your lipgloss, bathe you in compliments when they’re done —aw, dove, you look so cute, and cute? she looks perfect— then suddenly an abrupt beep is sounding outside. The three of you scramble into your jackets and down the stairs, meeting Sirius where he leans against the car. He throws the keys to Remus, ushering you into the backseat with him for some last minute clean up. 
“Hey, they’ve done a good job,” he praises, another hand on your face to turn it up kindly to the light. “Did you bring your lipgloss?”  
You nod quickly and dig for it in your jacket. 
“What!” James says from the front, turning in the passenger seat to complain. “That’s the one thing we did perfectly.” 
The car starts. Remus laughs to himself behind the steering wheel. 
“Did I say otherwise?” Sirius asks, letting his fingers curve toward the back of your neck. Pale in the light, eyes lit with something funny you’ve yet to hear, he dips in close to you and talks quietly, “I’m sorry, I promised I’d do your makeup for the party. But you’ve all done well without me, you look perfect, especially your lips.” 
“Then what did you want it for?” you ask, confused, your seat belt pulling as Sirius encourages you forward. 
“To reapply.” He taps your neck with a fingertip. “Spare a kiss? I promise I’ll fix any mess.” 
Commotion from the front seat.
“James–” Remus warns. 
“What? I want to watch.” 
“Freak,” Sirius says lovingly. 
“How am I a freak? She’s my girlfriend, you’re my boyfriend, and you’re doing that voice like you’re gonna lay her down in the back seat.” 
“James.” 
requests r open!! pls think about reblogging if you enjoyed, I hope u did either way!!!
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buckys-robot-arm · 2 years ago
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Everything is ruined and now I’m fired for sure because I sent in the form a day late
#may get kicked off the club board because I don’t get social cues and then ruin someone’s day because of it#half of the issues the pres brought up could’ve easily been solved if the board members I upset told me ‘hey please don’t say that to me’#instead of going right to A. some stuff I can chalk up to overstimulation/overwhelm in the moment but he wouldn’t see that. only my reaction#and I try so fucking hard to internalize it and not let my stress come out. he doesn’t even see how long little things have been building up#and I don’t expect anyone to as I can’t even see it#but there’s so many times ig I say the wrong thing and idek(hello? autism?)that I did. bc nobody communicates!!#and now bc I submitted the form a day after exactly 2 weeks. we’d have to move the meeting a day later. and our meetings aren’t on Tuesdays#and now L is just always looking at me with disdain and I cant just ask her wtf I did wrong bc I said there was no need to mention any of it#and she’s also dating A so I know he tells her EVERYTHING about what I did. I’m positive she knows about the impeachment#she wouldn’t look at me like that otherwise. it’s like there’s no light in her eyes when she isn’t laughing/smiling and looking at me#I just want people to tell me that they do in fact hate me bc that’s a lot simpler to deal with than radio silence and ambiguous looks#just tell me that I’m an idiot who doesn’t have their shit together and won’t make it in the world being disorganized#and unable to bring myself to talk about other people’s conversations#I needed to rant here bc half the people on my priv story are all fucking 6 degrees of separation from A. and he’d know. somehow#at least nobody irl knows what my url is. some people know I’m on here. but they certainly don’t have a clue what I go by at least
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xetlynn · 2 months ago
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alt au claggor x reader childhood friends to lovers maybe mylo convinces claggor to confess maybe spicy??? thank you ❤️❤️
>:3 made this feeling sick as heck but so proud of it🙏
Arcane Imagines- Claggor
Confessions Lead To…
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⚠️WARNING🔞: SMUT [arcane] [main page] prompt: in which Mylo actually has good advice for Claggor, leading him to a wonderful night. (I made it modern college au, just little mentions of modern day things) containing: fem!receiving oral, missionary, riding, anvil position, unprotected sex, creampie, slight cockwarming.
“Just do it, she obviously has a thing for you too!” Mylo tells his brother, hanging from the top of his loft bed. Claggor was pacing back and forth. “I can’t! I don’t want to ruin our friendship. What if I make it weird?” He esperates, rubbing his hands through his hair dramatically. 
“Dude, would [Name] do that? Honestly, answer me that.” The shorter one of the two asks with an annoyed expression laid on his face. “I mean, no but it could feel awkward between us and then I’ll look stupid.” Claggor frowns deeply. 
He’s had a crush on you for months now, it’s only getting substantial. “Claggor, I can’t tell you what to do. But I am telling you if you don’t do it you’ll be a pussy.” Mylo points a finger down at the larger man who gives him a deadpanned look. “You were the same if not worse when it came to Gert!” 
“Hey, at least I’m with her now. I shot my shot.” He defends himself, crossing his arms and looking up at the ceiling. Claggor sighs, knowing that his annoying brother is actually right. 
“Ugh, I swear if I’m doing the wrong thing no one will see me for a while.” His shoulders drop in defeat, leaving his brother’s room to get ready to confess his long-time feelings. Mylo wasn’t paying attention, raising a brow when he noticed that Claggor left… ten minutes later. 
•••
You hummed in your kitchen, finishing up some chores you wrote down to do for the day. You had the house to yourself since your roommate decided to go on a trip with her girlfriend. 
You get a ring from your phone in your back pocket, wiping your sweat and you pull it out. Answering it without checking and putting it up to your ear. “Hello?” “Oh, hey [Name]! That was a quick answer.” Claggor chuckled on the other line. A smile erupts on your face. 
“Hii, Claggs.” You threw your rag on the counter, leaning next to it. “Can I come over? For a little bit. If not, I understand.” He seemed extremely timid which caused you to tense up. “Um, of course! I’m just doing those chores I told you about but I could use a little break.” You happily say despite the horrible gut feeling you got. 
“Awesome, see you in 5.” He hangs up the phone before you even get the chance to respond. You stare at the phone for a few moments, placing it beside the rag. You go to the bathroom to clean up a little bit, interrupted by the sound of your doorbell. 
Claggor’s apartment was two floors down from yours so you’re not surprised he got here as quickly as he did. You go to the door, swinging it open. You move out of the way allowing him to enter. “Something wrong?” You scrunch your nose. “No, not at all. Why?” He asks with sweat forming on his forehead. “You seem a little off is all.” You shrug your shoulders. He heads to your bedroom, you behind him. 
“What’s going on? You’re worrying me a little bit.” You mustered a meekly smile. “I’m sorry.” He sighs, drooping down on your bed. He comes over often so this is normal for the both of you. He was too embarrassed of Mylo so he deemed your place to be better to hang out if you guys weren’t going out. 
“Is there something I should be worried about?” You hold yourself now. “I don’t know. I’m just going to come out and say it so prepare yourself I guess?” He avoids eye contact, his eyes wandering everywhere except at you. “I think I like you. Well I know I do. A lot. I have for a few months now. I didn’t know how to stop them and when I tried it made it worse.” He explains leaving you in shock, this being the last thing you were expecting from Claggor. 
“I feel like a child, giddy whenever the smallest thing happens between us. It’s truly pathetic.” He laughs at himself, your lips twitching upwards. “It’s not pathetic.” You tell him. 
“I’m the same way when I like someone.” You sit next to him on the bed, grabbing his hand. “When I like you I should say.” You watch his face blush a bright pink. “You feel the same?”
“Yeah, I have for a little bit now.” You nod your head, keeping his hand folded with your own. “That’s crazy to me. How could someone like you give me such the honor of liking me.” He whispers it was mainly to himself but you heard. You rolled your eyes playfully, grabbing his face with your other hand. “You’re so dumb. You’re perfect for me.” You coo, slowly leaning forward. His eyes widen but he follows your lead. 
Your lips locking, the warm, soft feeling on one another. You deepen it by getting on your knees and unlocking only a few times to go back for more. 
Swapping saliva as your tongues tease each other. His hands travel to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. Your plush thighs on either side, straddling him. “Hmph.” He breathes roughly after you nibble at his bottom lip. You go to apologize but he does it back. Making it fair. 
You grin into the make-out, grabbing onto him as you attempt to pull him even closer to your body. 
Your hips subconsciously roll back and forth across his crotch. His lap tenses at the motion but he doesn’t stop you. His arm is latched around your waist as the other is keeping himself along with you propped up. 
The further into the make out the more blood progresses to his boner. It’s now prominent enough for you to feel against your area. 
Arousing you both to a degree you’ve never felt before. The wetness of your juices soaking through your clothes. He swore he could feel your cunt spasm on him. He loved it. 
He wanted to feel more. With the arm that was around your waist he pushed you down gently enough you couldn’t even tell what he was doing. You moaned in his mouth at the pressure. 
Your head was beginning to feel dizzy at the lack of oxygen you were taking in from being too excited to breathe. You had to pull away from him to catch your breath. His chuckles at the sight of your flushed out face, lips plumped out even more, your hair slightly a mess. You were beautiful. 
“I need more.” You huffed out, lifting your hips up only to plop back down upon him. He gasps from the movement. “Yeah?” He asks with hooded eyelids, giving your body a once over as he leans back. “Mhm.” You nod your head and then all of a sudden your back was against the bed as Claggor was in between your legs. You squealed out, laughing. 
“I don’t have condoms on me.” He suddenly remembers, he goes to get up but you grab the hem of his shirt to stop him. “I’m on birth control.” You say, legs wrapping around his thighs since his waist wasn’t close to you anymore. He smiles eagerly, passionately kissing you. 
“Such a pretty girl.” He mutters in your mouth, pulling back. He takes his shirt off and you admire his body as he does so. He had muscle that showed but also such a soft adorned tone. You were obsessed. 
And if you weren’t wet before, you definitely were now. You followed suit though, throwing your shirt and bra over your head, throwing it to the ground. 
His eyes glued to your chest, a little too long in your opinion as you grew self-conscious. Covering yourself without realizing it. He takes your wrists, pulling them to your sides. “You’re too beautiful to be doing that.” He shakes his head. His hand touches your face, digits trailing down from your jaw to your neck… Lower now as he dances around your nipples before lightly pinching them. You whimper at the feeling causing him to smirk. “They’re sensitive?” He tilts his head and you quietly nod your head. 
He chuckles, now doing the same with the other one just to hear the little noises that exit your mouth. 
He innately rubs his crotch against yours, pushing up against you. You rut your hips up to meet him, wanting more. 
“Please, I want to feel you.” Your hands go to his shoulders, lightly prodding him away. “Alright, I guess I had my fun.” He sighs jokingly, he moves back a bit, repositioning lower on the bed. Once he gets comfortable laying on his stomach, face to face with your clothed pussy his fingers find the top of your shorts. He toys with you, heavily breathing at your core. You wanted to squish your legs together so he’d stop but you resisted. Finally after what felt like minutes to you he tugs your shorts and panties off of you. 
“I made you this drenched?” He satirizes, you frown, looking away from him. He snickers at your shy response. His pointer and middle finger pull your lips apart to get an even better view. It caught you off guard from the sudden coldness at your pussy. You gulped down your own saliva that built in your mouth. 
Claggor glances up at you as his own mouth watered. Impatient to taste you. His best friend that he had just confessed to. His best friend that likes him in return. He was so worried that you wouldn’t like him and now here you are letting him eat you out.
His tongue lays down flat in between your nub and entrance. His top lip above your clit. You felt his teeth rub against you and you wince in pleasure. And as his muzzle moves, so do you. You felt your body squirm as his movements were intense but so so so satisfactory. 
He somehow was paying attention to your clit and your achy hole at the same time. And to be honest he didn’t have a technique he just wanted to taste all your juices. 
His tongue slid into your hole for its last time before attaching your nub once again, this time it was for longer. His tongue swiped left and right to up and down. Writing his name at one point and then yours. He felt your thighs closing against his head and your body tensing up.
 “H-hah- holy shit, Clag… I’m gonna-” You breathed rapidly, grabbing hold of his short hair and practically yanking at it. He groans in slight pain but keeps his focus on you, only going faster. Your torso trembling upwards. “I’m- I’m cumminngh-guhhh!” You wail, accidentally pushing your hand down on his head, keeping him in place against your pussy. 
He doesn’t mind, he feels you twitch on his mouth. All your delicious sap flowing onto his tongue. Your hips rolling throughout your high. 
And as it was over all you could do was lay there, letting him go. It was one of your most intense orgasms you’ve had in a while. “Thank you.” He whispers as he gets up to kiss you. “I should be thanking you.” You pant out, his small hands wandering around his torso. 
“Mm agree to disagree.” He shrugs, pecking you once more. As his torso goes up your hands slide down back to the bed. He plays with his belt buckle, undoing it. Claggor gets off the bed, letting his pants fall. You eye his boxers that clung to his skin. The noticeable bulge that stuck out. You were ready yet again. 
Your own fingers go to your clit, it was now delicate to the touch but you still rubbed it slowly. When he sees you touching yourself he feels his cock jump in its barriers. “Restless so soon?” He beams. 
“I need you inside me.” You mewl, spreading your legs even further than before. And just at your movements his boxers were being kicked off his feet. You giggle as he climbs back on the bed. Your eyes stuck on his large member though. 
You figured he would be blessed but… blessed was definitely an understatement. You now worried if it would even fit inside you.
“Gosh, you’re too gorgeous for your own good.” He clamps his hand on your jaw, squishing your cheeks making your lips puckered out before he kisses you. As he leaned over his dick laid on your tummy. 
“You ready for me?” He quizzes your jaw still captured in his hold. “Yesh, scared ‘s too big thoughh.” You muttered through your squeezed cheeks. He snorts, not expecting that answer. “I promise it will fit. I’ll go slow.” He kisses you again before letting you go. 
Your eyes observe as he pumps his dick with his hand with his own spit. His mushroom tip slipping through your folds, hitting your clit a few times. “Are you sure you want this?” He looks you in your eyes. You smile at his question for consent, double checking even though you’ve already came once and pleaded for his cock. “I want this more than anything.” Your hand wraps around his wrist, helping him proceed into you. 
He hisses at the feeling of your gummy walls just being around his tip that leaked precum. Your chest heaved up and down with anticipation. “Keep going.” You encouraged with a nod of your head. He listens to your words, inching more and more inside. 
As he bottomed out you clamped around him, flinching at the string that you felt at first. Your face contorting slightly. “Are you okay?” His hand caresses your cheek. “Yes, one second though.” You stuck your pointer finger up, you swore you felt every crevice of his cock. He was huge. 
“Okay, okay…” You shiver out. “Start moving.” 
His hips move away before clicking right back. Your mouth opens at the feeling. Now keeping a steady pace. He grips at your waist, hearing your moans make him want to cum at the spot. Only being in your pussy for two minutes. 
“H-harder.” You claw him, trying to keep him as close as possible. Seeing this along with hearing your words his hands lift up your thighs around his shoulders and he presses down closer to you. Now in an anvil position. “Ohmygod!” You shriek, feeling him deeper than he was before. He fucks into you at a harder, faster pace. 
Your mouth letting babbles come out, words mashed together and not making any sort of sense. Claggor grunts in your ear each time his skin slaps against yours. Your toes curling above his head. 
“Fu-uck meee~” You cry, throwing your head back against the bed. The exhilaration, the adrenaline, the sex of it all filling Claggor’s mind to keep going. Hear your voice lighting a fire in his brain. No other thoughts. 
“Gonna cum soon, princess.” His thrusts grow sloppier. “Wa-wait! St… stop!” You cry out, his pelvis immediately hitting a halt against you at your singular word. “What? What happened? You okay? Did I hurt you?” He asks, forgetting what he had just said. 
You pause for a moment, taking a quick breather. “I um…” You puff, “want to ride you.” You tell him, propping yourself up on your elbows. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding at your words. “Oh okay.” He grasps at his heart, calming down. “What?” You furrow your brows confused. 
“I mean, I’d love for you too but you scared me.” He slowly slides out of you, your pussy now clenching around nothing. 
“The way you said stop… I don’t know. I blanked.” He rubs the back of his sweaty neck. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t exactly get my words out.” You nervously laughed, reminding him of what he was just doing to you. His cheeks blush brighter, not because of embarrassment but because it made him a little proud of himself for pleasuring you so well. That’s all that mattered to him. 
You got up to your knees and you led him to sit down by the headboard. His back against the thousands of pillows you have on your bed. “Comfy?” You ask him with a closed eyed smile. He snickers, tugging at your waist to pull you closer to himself. “C’mere.” Was all he said.
You climb back onto his lap. His torso was leaned back so you had a good advantage when riding him. Your feet planted on either side of his hips. Your hands held onto his shoulders as you now stood over his dick. Your lick your lips, practically drooling at the sight. “Help me?” You glance up through your lashes. He smiles, using his left hand to keep his member up for you. 
You lower yourself down on him, excited to be filled back up. As your ass fully goes against his thighs you go back up then right back down all in slow movements. He watches as your pussy sucks him in each time again and again. 
Then you get bored of yourself, going faster, bouncing on him. Your tits are right in his vision. His hand grabs at both of them as his other is laid on his own stomach, keeping it to himself. 
“Too good, ‘s good.” You moan out, gripping his shoulders with each bounce. 
The stinging in your thighs were slightly bothering you but you had to keep going. One of your hands that held his shoulders went down to your clit. You rubbed it intensely. “Fuck!” You whisper out, he can tell you’re getting tired fast. He holds onto your hips, helping you go up and down. 
Still admiring the way you focus on getting to your release. And all he wants to do is help you get there. “Get on your knees.” He taps against your hips with his pointer finger. “Hu-huh?” You look at him confused. “Just do it.”
You let your feet slide backwards so you were now back on your knees. “There you go, more comfortable?” He asks sincerely. You only nod your head, not rolling your hips on him. He lifts his hips up and slides his body down so it would be more comfortable for him. 
You fuck yourself on him. “Ooh, I’m close.” Your voice rings out, Claggor hums in response, feeling his own orgasm coming. “Me too, where do you want me?” He asks, just so he knows before he cums. “Inside, don’t worry.” You pant.
“A-ah, cumming!’ Your nails accidentally dig into his biceps as you feel your release. The pain only brings him over the edge, his jaw slacking as his seed spurts inside you. 
You feel the warmness spread within you. Feeling his cock soften inside. You kiss at his chest before laying down on him. Keeping him in place with his dick still stuck within those fluttered walls. 
“Fucking hell, Claggor.” You spit out, his arms wrap around you. “You were amazing.” He mumbles. “No, you were.” You lift your head up at him. “That was insane!” You exclaim, accidentally jolting your hips causing him to hiss at the sensitive feeling. “Sorry.” You chuckle. 
“It’s okay.” He waves it off. He goes to help you get up but you stop him. “I want to stay like this for a little bit.” You tell him with a heated face. He raises a brow. 
“I was hoping for round 2… But I want to feel you grow inside me.” You quietly admit to him. Now it was his turn for his face to heat up.
Flushing as he now replays everything the two of you just did. And you get exactly what you wanted. 
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