#choke cola
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idiot drinks caffeinated beverage right before bed, faces conce of cenques
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To all the people who harass Lily Orchard, just, in general:
I hate... each and every last one of you.
And I hope you never find happiness every again, for as long as you live. :)
#pro lily orchard#fuck lily orchard's harrassers#i hate all of you#choke on coka cola#pee yourself#have your puppy taken away
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What. The flip flop. Dip dop. Is in coca cola's spiced raspberry drink?? I'm struggling to breathe rn and it's ingredients just list normal soda flavours. It doesn't even list raspberry flavouring.
Coca cola, what did you put in your drink that's tripping my allergies??
#the hippo speaks#the hippo is choking#inhaling inhaler#dont mind me just ignore the swelling#this is the second time I've drank it and once again thr asthma is going crazy#this aint a coincidence no more#coca cola#coca cola raspberry spice#coca cola new flavour#i never have this issue with dr. pepper
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The absolute love of my life <3
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There's so much to hate about coke but the fact that they are coming out with a permanent new flavor called coco cola spice, that has a *checks notes* hint of raspberry and isn't spicy, have it come out around Valentine's Day
AND YOU DONT CALL IT COCOCOLA RIZZ?
Added to the sin list, I was already done but now I'm insulted
Admittedly, if it's supposed to line up with the dune movie and we get an absolute rotund sand worm on the side of the coke bottle I will lose so much moisture over it. Can you imagine it?
#literally how did you let this pass#are you fucking kidding me?#i know they're evil but my fuck lords AND Ladies#by fuck thats bad#and why spice?#im going to loose it#and raspberry? bomb flavor. question: why is it called spice?#thw taste tester had whatever the opposite of the xmen gene is and choked from the raspberry heat#i think thats just an allergic reaction dawg#coco cola#coco cola spice#raspberry?#dune#dune drink#feel the dehydration#theres just sand in there#okay but what if we owned all the water=drying liquid#just a fat ass worm on the side of the can#id loose it#see my vision
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media day | franco colapinto
pairing: franco colapinto x reader summary: During media day, you accidentally gets asked for an interview, mistaken for a new member of the team. author’s note: first fic with franco kinda short but I have been willing to write for him and this was funny and I enjoyed writing it! Hope you like it!
The energy of media day buzzed around you, and while Franco darted from one interview to the next, you decided to keep a low profile and watch from the sidelines. But as you lingered, a reporter mistook you for someone on his team and approached, microphone in hand.
“Excuse me, could we get a quick interview with you?”
You blinked, momentarily thrown off, then, spotting Franco’s bemused expression in the background, you decided to play along.
“Of course,” you said, fighting a smile.
“Great! So, could you tell us a bit about your role with the team?”
You glanced over to Franco, who was watching with barely hidden laughter. He mouthed, “Inventá algo” (make up something) giving you a mischievous wink.
“Oh, um, I’m… Franco’s diet coordinator?” you improvised.
Franco nearly choked trying to keep his composure, and you went on, sounding as official as possible.
“I’m responsible for overseeing every single thing he eats on race weekends. It’s a delicate balance of nutrition and… well, superstition.”
“Really?” The reporter looked intrigued, jotting down notes. “What’s an example of a typical race day meal?”
Franco slipped behind the reporter, out of her view, and whispered, “decile empanadas y alfajores.” (say empanadas and alfajores)
“Oh, well, there are specific requirements. For breakfast, it’s usually a light protein shake, and closer to the race, it’s… empanadas and alfajores for energy.” You said, fighting a grin.
“Alfajores and empanadas… interesting, it’s an Argentinian food?” the reporter remarked, clearly surprised.
“Yep, and don’t forget the Fernet with cola—that’s for the post-race celebration.” Franco jumped in, trying to keep a straight face.
You barely held it together but nodded solemnly.
“It’s all about balance.”
Once the reporter moved on, you turned to Franco, who was in stitches.
“¿Vos sos boludo o qué? empanadas y fernet?” (Are you dumb or what? empanadas and fernet?)
“Eh, tenías que decirle algo que me representara ¿no?” (Hey, you had to tell her something that represented me, right?) he replied with a grin.
“If she writes an article saying your race diet is alfajores, I’m never letting you live it down.” You nudged him, still laughing.
“No pasa nada, mi reina” (No problem, my queen) he said wrapping an arm around your shoulders and smirking. “Maybe you just scored me a few more argentinean fans!”
“Oh, great. Now I’m the ‘nutritionist’ who approves empanadas for a Formula 1 driver” you replied with a playful roll of your eyes and Franco just laughed, pulling you closer.
"Although I still don’t know how she didn’t figure out I have nothing to do with the team. I mean, I’m not even wearing the team kit" you said, still wrapped in his arms.
"Well, maybe she assumed because you had your phone and my cap in hand. Either way, that was fun, but I don’t think there’ll be a second time" Franco replied with a grin from ear to ear. With this prank, especially if it aired on TV, fans would love Franco even more.
alfajores: soft cookies sandwiched with dulce de leche (a caramel-like spread) and often coated in chocolate or rolled in coconut. empanadas: savory pastries filled with ingredients like beef, chicken, or cheese and seasoned uniquely in each region. fernet: a bitter, herbal spirit, famously mixed with coca cola (��fernet con coca”) and served over ice.
#f1#formula 1#fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 one shot#f1 2024#f1 imagines#franco colapinto#franco colapinto blurb#franco colapinto one shot#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 imagine#franco colapinto fluff
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trouble, m | jjk
... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic
--
“Oh, I’m in trouble.”
Panic coursed throughout his veins.
“I can’t be here.”
And maybe a little bit of arousal too.
“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”
He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.
Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.
Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.
Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.
Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.
Like he said, he was in trouble.
Tomorrow.
The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.
I hope your friends ask about me.
The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.
The devil was in the details.
“Hello? Did you space out again?”
Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”
Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”
“R… Right.”
He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”
Jungkook choked.
-
That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.
Mind a billion thoughts a minute.
You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.
Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.
Or more savagely.
You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.
Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?
Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.
“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.
You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.
Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.
Hah.
You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.
Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.
You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.
You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.
Thanks, brain.
Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.
Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.
Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.
If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.
Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.
Hah, what a bother.
You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.
Yup.
Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.
The looking glass showed you two ways.
You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.
Hmmmm.
Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.
What the–
You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.
At goddamn McDonald’s?
Is no place sacred?
It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.
-
Your fingers framing your face.
You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.
Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.
Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.
“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”
What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.
You envied their desire for silence.
Because you had to be loud.
You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.
“P-Please…”
His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.
“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”
You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.
-
This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.
Actually.
That sounded very dramatic.
And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.
Cut out all that risky business.
It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.
Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.
But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.
She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.
He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.
Holy fuck.
Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.
Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?
And, four.
Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.
He had to cover his ass.
Speaking of.
Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.
Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.
She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.
He gasped and screamed under his breath.
The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.
She swallowed.
Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.
“C… Careful…. P-Please…”
Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.
He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.
He did not.
I’m in trouble.
He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?
Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.
“Ready?” she hummed.
“Y- Yeah…”
In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.
Jungkook didn’t even care.
He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”
He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.
“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”
She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.
He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.
Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.
Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.
He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.
“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”
She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”
His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.
“I… I usually last longer…”
“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”
Her sex saved his life.
Her next words murdered him on the spot.
“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”
Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.
-
You could admit it.
You shouldn’t have said that.
But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.
Right?
Wrong.
You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.
Aw, shit.
You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.
Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.
You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.
“Gah!”
“Oh!”
And he grabbed your waist.
Of course, he did.
Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.
You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.
“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”
You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.
Didn’t want to know.
Better not to know.
“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.
“You’re not in my way.”
You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.
“Actually… Please be in my way.”
You froze.
Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.
Oh, I’m in trouble.
He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.
You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.
“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.
An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.
“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.
You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.
No.
This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.
“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”
Jimin was stifling his giggles.
You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.
“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”
Oh no.
“Stay right there!”
Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”
But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.
“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.
You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”
Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.
Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.
“Uh…”
You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”
“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”
You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”
“Yeah, I’m the same.”
Your knee touched his.
He looked at you.
Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.
“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”
“What?”
You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.
“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”
People only get into relationships for shitty sex.
Right?
I want to be around him.
“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”
You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.
Close enough for you to remember.
“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”
His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”
“Yeah, give me your number.”
-
She asked for it like it was easy.
Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.
“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”
“Wait, give me your number.”
She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.
“I want it,” he breathed.
Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.
Like she was trying to hold back.
“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”
“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.
“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”
Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.
-
What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.
Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.
They don’t like you.
You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.
You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.
Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.
Jungkook wanted you.
That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.
He was just waiting for you to start it off.
You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.
I’m in so much trouble, fuck.
You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.
You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
What is this?
You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.
“I c-can’t…”
His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.
“Can’t t-take it anymore…”
Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.
You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.
He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.
He’s too desperate to be a liar.
You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.
I want you.
He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.
“I w-want you…”
He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.
You saw what Jungkook was saying.
He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.
You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…
Until.
“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.
Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.
How could you refuse him?
You just couldn’t.
-
I’m so fucked.
Truly, madly, deeply fucked.
Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.
“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.
Harder?!
Was she trying to kill him?
She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.
He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.
He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.
It wasn’t enough.
Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.
He let his eyes flicker up.
Gasping, baring his depravity.
She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.
“Cum on me, Jungkook.”
Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.
Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.
Her cum and her perfume.
He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.
Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.
“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”
Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.
No, know that she really meant what she said.
His heart fluttered. Took flight.
No.
Soared.
They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.
He was sure.
--
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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆。°✩
⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ chapter summary. some things in life are unbearable, and in yours? they’re titled gojo satoru and trying to ruin you.
pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader
genre. enemies to lovers, ‘my bully is actually in love w me,’ comedy, light-hearted romance, aged up characters (in college), gojo being touchy bcs boundaries do not exist to my king
warnings for this chapter. gojo is being particularly troublesome
wc. 3k
author’s note: HOW ARE WE FEELING JJK NATION?!
ੈ✩‧₊˚
masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | next >
CHAPTER 1: imagine minding your own business undisturbed omg
tokyo jujutsu tech is big. real, real big. but no matter where you go, he's there.
gojo satoru has made it his life's mission to relentlessly annoy you for no apparent reason. it was hate at first sight, or something equally despicable as that. for three years now, you’ve had to endure jeers raging from your sorcerer's ability to the size (or lack thereof, as you’re often reminded) of your ass. yes, that does count as harassment. no, gojo does not care.
you don’t know why he can't just leave you alone. he seems to delight in your anger and misery. they say you need to stand up to your bullies and give them a taste of their own medicine, but that does not work on gojo. the angrier – the better. he wants a reaction. he wants attention. he wants your despair served on a platter for him to lick clean and mouth, “delicious, thank you, more please.”
it's the silence and ignoring he can't take. it's like a personal insult. some deep rooted fear you hope he'll choke on.
gojo claims to hate you quite loudly. boisterously, even. wears his spite like a badge of honor, keeps it nice and clean pinned to the lapel of his uniform.
yet everywhere you go, he’s there – by your locker, outside your dorm room, on every mission you’re sent on, and always in the places you frequent. it's not exactly stalking, but it's like...gojo's way of being just as clingy without getting called out. you have called him a stalker. he laughed, pointed, and said, "what kinda idiot would even want to stalk someone like you?”
out the women's showers, you waddle to the common area. there's a vending machine, and you’d like a bubbly drink to refresh yourself. first, from the moist heat of the showers and then from the humid summer just outside the window. it’s peaceful, despite the temperature. the water still clings to your skin.
you just to locate and rejoice the last bottle of cola before you feel eyes on the back of your neck. of course. of course he's here, and you didn’t even hear him. of course.
"ugh," you groan aloud, fingers stalling against the cold buttons
"your ugliest pj's?" you startle from how loud he is, right next to your ear. too close. he’s always too close.
he makes sure to whistle long enough to make you squirm away. fuck him, he towers over you. can’t see his eyes underneath those super expensive designer glasses, but you know they keen for your reaction. once, to shoko, he said he bought them because they looked cool. unprompted, uninvited, unwanted, you chirped that they looked dumb as hell.
"whaddya got there?" his fingers press into your spine, and maybe he uncovered a new technique to turn you into stone. there is absolutely no personal space in this equation. he has none, and he has no concept of invading yours. with anyone else, maybe you wouldn't mind.
keep cool. you’re cool. stone-faced, unmovable. you don’t care if he’s trying to claw into your marrow with his neatly trimmed nails.
you hesitate for a single moment before you punch in the number. the machine whizzes and thunk, “fuck off, please,” you say, bending down to snatch your drink. he hums, sounding too satisfied for your comfort.
"you're gonna fuck yourself up on all that carbonation. never thought you could get any more hideous, but alas!"
you turn to him, and he has the good sense to move back a step to avoid the mouth that’ll insult him. there's a twitch to his brow, and an ease to his smile as he regards you leisurely. the latter is almost never a good thing. it means he's really enjoying this interaction.
if you shake your cola enough, maybe you’ll be super lucky and the spray will land on his face. now that's an idea. but even if you caught him off guard, his cursed technique would likely be in motion and the soda wouldn't touch him. how troublesome. a waste of a drink. you decides against it.
gojo leans on the vending machine. his own personal attempt cower her into submission. for what exactly? no one knows. maybe getou would have an idea, if he’s merciful enough to share. when you don’t say anything or flinch away like ijichi often does, he sighs heavily.
"aw, are ya still mad about last time? that was days ago. c'monnn, kami-”
"don't say my name."
"i forgot. kawakami-chan doesn't like me, right?"
you thought about switching schools. kyoto tech is also very good. you’d be at peace there. utahime hates gojo just as much as you do, and you have already bonded closely over this shared distain.
it's likely gojo would transfer after you. just to spite you.
"don't you have anything better to do than harass me?" you question.
the most infuriating thing about gojo, and about this situation, is that he’s happy. when you’re like this – huffing, shoulders taut, and frowning – he seems to be enjoying himself the most.
"don't pretend like you don't like it, kami-chan."
this asshole has a god complex. he seems to truly believe the earth would have ended up in a heap of smoldering ruin if not for him. to be fair, he's probably right, but still. you would first bite of your tongue than admit to that. you have considered a lobotomy to get the idea out of your head, but in the joke that is your life, gojo would likely be holding the orbitoclast.
you resent him so much you find yourself burning in his presence. it's like he took a personal class to master the art of pestering.
"doesn’t this ever get boring?"
he laughs, pressing a hand to his cheek as if embarrassed, "i never get bored of you, kami-chan. when are you coming back to the field? been too busy hanging out with losers to do some missions?"
"how pathetic must you be," you snark, "to be thinking of me when i'm not there to torment."
gojo ignores you and moves to tug at your top. the audacity has you reeling, and you attempt to smack his hand away only for it to be stopped at the last second, "yup," he inspects the quality of the fabric, his teeth flashing and making his already smug features look haughtier, "cheap.”
you open the can so forcefully the contents fizzle and spray on your hand. gojo grins so hard you expect his face to crack in half. if only.
"can i have some?”
"stop touching me," you hiss, trying to slap him away again, "why are you always touching me?"
gojo sidesteps. the dodge and dash he does, coupled with his agility, is incredible. had you not seen his many victories in battle, or spent any amount of time with him, you might be enamored. impressed, even.
perhaps that lobotomy is still an option.
"just," his arms dart out to pin you to the vending machine and you immediately aim a high kick to his thigh. but, of course, his infinity protects him. bastard. he doesn't let up though, and those hands slide along the expanse of your thighs until they meet your sides, leaving a warm trail, "makin' sure i can see all of these pores up close."
gojo, as disgusting as you often think he is, does always have a bit of honesty in his insults. you want to scream, maybe, because your pores are fine. great, even, you’ve invested into a new skincare routine, and it’s clearly working. it even works on shoko’s dark circles. he’s so full of shit, it's nauseating.
"fuck off," you shove his hands away and gojo lets you, surprisingly.
"really gross," he comments.
"you're the gross one. self-absorbed stalker."
gojo, an absolutely foul looking monster if you’ve ever met one, waggles a finger at you.
"careful, kami-chan," there's no trace of warning, only amusement, "we wouldn't wanna accidentally bump into each other too many more times."
his meaning isn't lost on you.
you hold up a finger, too. right in his face. pause. take a sip of your soda. there's no reason you should indulge this maniacal sadist in any capacity. gojo has an aura. an attitude. he comes off as unrelenting, and for all intents and purposes, he is unrelenting. in and out your life, an unshakable constant, with a lopsided grin and piercing eyes. you hate him.
you try to sidestep and flee to your room, but he blocks you. step. block. step. block. step block. stepblockstepblockstepblockstepblock-
"god! you're fucking infuriating," you explode.
you want to clock him, strangle him, castrate him, kick his head through the concrete. he's ruining a perfectly nice evening. what is it about you that he just loathes to see, so much so that it drives him to see you hurt all the time? is he truly so bad off? does he live a miserable and joyless existence?
"thanks," he looks genuinely honored, "but how'd you come to the conclusion, huh? after a little brainstorming session or-"
"what do you want?"
"lately?" gojo taps his chin, his tongue poking out, "seemed like you needed some space, so i just waited around here till you were done."
christ, he really is a stalker. you’re starting to worry he's like, actually insane.
"but now we can hang out!”
"i'm going to bed," you declare.
gojo ignores your announcement. gojo always ignores whatever you have to say.
"where we heading? your place or mine?"
"you are not going anywhere with me!"
he reaches out to flick your temple. it's so juvenile it takes you by surprise. your hands immediately fly up to protect yourself.
"huh," his face softens as if you’re this small, pathetic thing. not pity exactly, but definitely a worrisome expression, "look,” he snaps his fingers, “look. look,” he snaps them again and you will tear your hair out in 83 seconds if he doesn’t go away immediately, “we both gotta take a mission, right? might as well go together."
"go with suguru,"
gojo sighs dramatically and his whole upper body collapses, like he's pretending you kicked his shin. you reel back a bit from the proximity.
"mmm, but suguru’s so uptight lately," he comments. that’s good. getou suguru, ever the diligent one, was the first person in your sorcery class who made you feel welcomed. you quite like him, but the fact that his best friend is gojo implies there's something deeply wrong with him. you really don’t want to know what.
"go with shoko then," you state.
"shoko's just..." his arms jerk violently as if he's pretending to smash a plate, "not really on board with my mission types lately. says she can’t leave our only doctor since the patients are dying before they have a chance to enter the trauma room."
sad news for shoko, but your mind works quick.
"go alone," you smile, tilting your head to the side. the motion seems to catch his interest, "and don't come back."
gojo clicks his tongue, clearly peeved. victory. you relish this tiny bit of triumph. he starts to walk away and you watch him retreat, hopefully from your life, "i can't,"
"no way you've fallen so far."
"suguru told me to check in with someone before going on my own. it'll just make him and yaga-sensei super worried!"
"oh no," you chime, "i think you should go alone. and die."
he laughs, "come on," a pause, "it'll be fun! team-bonding and shit."
team-bonding and shit is you having a cola and reading a magazine. not fighting alongside the man who torments you like you’re some sort of pet: ‘kami-chan, do a split,' ‘kami-chan, do a roll,' ‘kami-chan, how big is your cup size again?'
the most effective way to hurt him is silence. you turn your eyes away and hum. this must be done delicately. if he catches even a whiff of your intention to flee, he’ll barge right after you. get you in a headlock and make you cry, because maybe he’s grown demented and will enjoy the sight of your tears.
with as much ease as your taunt muscles can muster, you casually pad in the direction of your room. he hasn't tried to tear down your door yet, but that's likely because the senseis would have to reprimand him.
gojo won't leave you be though, will he? as if it's a struggle to keep pace with you, he follows closely and peppers you with requests:
"come with me."
"shut up."
"we can grab dinner and-"
"you can shut up."
gojo sings, "team-building exercise, you're supposed to make a comrade's wishes come true, so come with-"
"i'll kill myself if force me to go with you. stop begging. it's so lame."
he laughs so loudly and unexpectedly that you jolt. this asshole thinks your threat is baseless. it isn’t. you’ll do it, or so god help you. you aren’t one to bitch out on anything, and maybe that’s why he’s so intent about this.
you wish he'd just give up, but it's highly unlikely. he's stubborn, and you aren’t enough to bend him.
"are you implying you'd kill yourself in front of me? for what? to mess with me?"
your face is very serious when you say, "yeah."
"shit, and you expect me to not want to see that? sorry babe, i'll have to tag along," he grins wickedly and you find yourself fighting down a spring at nausea at the sickly pet name. that’s a new development.
you move to stomp away, but he's right there to cage you to the wall. no, please, you’re at your limit. you might crumble into a heap on the floor and never rise again, even if he consistently poked at you for days.
"come," his glasses slide down his nose a bit and you’re met with gleaming, impossible, revoltingly beautiful blue eyes, "on," and he leans down. this close his infinity is gone, and you can feel the hard planes of his muscles, "a mission with me."
"kill me," you bite out.
you don’t like this, nor the rising fluster or the scent of his cologne. he always smells fresh, even in the summer months where sweat sticks like second skin. the cool wall against your back has your skin prickling. maybe this is a new advanced torture method. much more effective than waterboarding, which you would willingly take if that meant he’d let you go.
why must he be so tall? the sunlight bleeding from the windows douses his hair in a halo. it’s completely deceptive to how absolutely giddy he looks. your breathing picks up. what a nightmare. you’d attempt to knee him again if your limbs weren’t suddenly immobile.
he leans forward and murmurs, "is that an invitation for some freaky shit? cuz i like where we are now."
"gross!" you lean back as far as possible.
"i knowwww," he's undeterred by your snappiness, "seriously," he tries, "what else are you doing tonight, huh?" and you wonder why he's getting closer as your neck protests, "don’t tell me," there's a lilt to his voice you don’t trust, "you afraid you can't handle me?"
"is sexual harassment on your daily agenda?" you bite.
he moves away slightly, looking perplexed, as if you’ve given the world's toughest question. his posture becomes defensively slouched. a frown pushes his brows together and for once, the smooth talker has no quip or response.
you’re not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth and scramble.
"hey, hey, you didn’t answer!” he calls out, rushing after you, "hey! kami-chan, where'd your manners go? i need a clear answer."
damn pride. damn self-respect. you’re fleeing.
gojo doesn't let you get away that easy. your path to sanctuary is obstructed again as gojo halts you by plucking at your shoulder. you shake yourself off like a wet cat and bail. yes, you’ve resorted to running, but your room is just within reach.
"why are you running?!" his whine echoes down the empty hall, "answer the question!"
just a bit more and-
he catches up with you and hauls you up by the armpits, spinning, laughing. you squirm, and there goes your drink, your damned, tasty drink. all his antics have been on the short side, but he's never done this before: cradle you against himself, as if he was going to play catch with you.
"let go, creep!"
"creep?!" his voice is scandalized but still mirthful, "for all my gentlemanliness, huh?!"
he tosses you and you can barely right yourself with a solid landing. that's new too, the physical handling. why today of all days has he decided to pick your fights with his hands? does it make you less immune? why are you wondering? you should be running.
"and anyways, where'd your manners go huh, huh, hu-uh? no thank you when a nice gentlemanly guy takes the time of his day, the greatest guy, the-"
you might go insane. actually snap and go coo coo coconuts. kill everyone. this might be the beginning of your villain origin story. your personal vendetta to kill gojo satoru.
"seriously?!" he yells, and you open your eyes (you don’t remember closing them. it's probably a last resort sort of deal. if you can't see gojo, gojo isn’t real), and gojo's much, much, closer.
"would you mind-" you hiss.
"really," he chides, not an ounce of his good humor on his face, and you’re unable to tell if he's taunting or sincere, "all those classes you went to when you were little, and you still can't pay attention to the first thing a good guy says? do i have to spell out your obligations for you?!"
"would you kindly go fuck yourself and allow me to exist in peace?!" you shriek.
a door down the hall opens, and someone, maybe a fellow student or maybe a teacher or maybe someone unrelated all together, pops their head out the crack of their bedroom. you see this in slow-motion, watch a silhouette tilt their head and stare. it's so stupid it could be considered a scene from a comedy.
"would you two keep it the hell down already!?" your would-be-rescuer screams.
gojo glances to the side, unbothered but maybe curious. you run. before gojo can pick up his wits, you slam the door to your room open, lock it, and even fumble a deadbolt for added assurance. your room is dark save for a nightlight plugged into the corner.
your legs are shaking. you feel like throwing up. you’ve never been so terrified in your entire life.
the news reaches you via a text from shoko a good few hours later. gojo goes on the mission alone.
'please die please die please die please die,' you pray.
he returns an hour later, unharmed and cheery.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo x you#imagine#imagines#reader#x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk fanfic#taking what’s not yours
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The Single Dad Club! (Chapter Two:Geto)
Summary: The Single Dad club consisted of Grto Suguru, Gojo Satoru and Nanami Kento! But with summer upon them, the men find themselves ladies who are willing to have them leave their self-appointed club!
Pairing: Geto Suguru x AFAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,388
Warning: smut, language, fingering, library smut, public smut, fingering, pin in V smut, unprotected sex, creampie, choking, voyeurism, exhibitionism
A/N: Here’ part two of my Single Dad Club Summer Series! Library smuuut yesss! One part left!! 💚
Part One Part Three
Geto grimaced as he exited the car, opening the back door for his daughters. They excitedly jumped out, running towards the library where Gojo was waiting. The summer sun was scorching, beating down on Suguru as sweat beaded on his forehead. He could not wait to get inside, and it wasn’t for the sweet, cool air conditioner.
It was because of you, the stunning librarian who worked there.
You were beautiful, smiling and grinning as you read to the children. You were always calm and patient when helping people search for books with descriptions alone. The kindness and compassion in your soul was one he only thought existed in fairytales, like a maiden or a princess. That might be why he nicknamed you that.
Gojo tapped his foot impatiently as the girls hugged Tsumiki. “Could you walk any slower, Suguru? I’m melting over here!” He downed some of his cola, gasping softly as he did.
“I could stop to admire the flowers if you’d like?” Suguru’s eyes are smug as he watches his best friend groan as he throws his head back.
“Please don’t; I’ll die of heat stroke if you do.”
Suguru laughs, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Where’s Nanami?” A soured look crossed Satoru’s face.
“Already inside with his little mermaid.”
“You should be happy for him. He’s happy with her.”
“Yeah, I'm so happy that the Single Dad Club is down to two members. Does that even make us a club anymore?”
The two walked through the sliding doors and were immediately blasted with cold air. The chill against Suguru’s skin had him sigh in relief as he put all the books back into the return bin before heading through the other sliding door, where the smell of books old and new welcomed him. The silent library wasn’t bustling, which made sense since it was the summertime and many families were on vacation. The Single Dad club made it a point to stop by the library once a week to get books for the children to read so they weren’t glued to their screens.
It had nothing to do with Suguru seeing you in a pretty strawberry dress a few weeks ago when they were getting the children’s summer reading books. He didn’t use you as an excuse to come every week, building a friendship with you until he dared to ask you out. Yeah, no, totally not because of that. (It was)
Geto’s eyes roamed through the different aisles of book-filled shelves, searching for you in one of your dresses or bright colors of skirts. And he found you in no time. He was standing on one of the ladders, reaching for a book on the top shelf. Today, you were sporting a white dress with blue anchors all over it, along with a sky-blue cardigan. Your hair was styled perfectly, and your big round reading glasses were sliding down the bridge of your nose.
Suguru smiled, turning down the aisle you were working on and watching as you added the book to a large stack you were holding. It took some real skill to carry that many books so elegantly. Suguru rushed forward, gently holding the ladder as you descended the wooden steps.
With the sudden heat next to your body, you look up, meeting with dark eyes. Who is the single dad you have had your eyes on for the last few weeks? He was handsome and intellectual. If he didn’t get to ask you out, you would have to do it yourself.
“Geto.” You made sure there was a hint of flirtatious intent in your voice. “Is it Tuesday already?”
“It most definitely is my favorite day of the week.”
“Your favorite day of the week, huh?”
You stroll past him, heading towards your desk in the middle of the library. He followed close behind, the earthy smell of mint following him. You’ve tried not to come too eager; you wanted him to work for it slightly. But the fact that he was following you to your desk like a lost puppy, you know you had him wrapped around your finger.
Suguru the stack of books down to your left before sitting back in your rolling chair. “It’s the day of the week I get to see you.”
“You know I have life outside of the library.” you shuffled through some papers on your desk.
“Oh, do you?”
“I do~”
Your voice had a certain boldness as you flirted back with the man you had been wanting since he stepped inside your library weeks ago. You had never been the assertive one, but you decided when you saw his gorgeous long black hair that you would be assertive this time. If you continue to do what you want, you will be alone forever, becoming that stereotypical librarian in movies and TV shows.
“Hmm, well, I just so happen to have quite a bit of free time right now. I just got back from a major dig, and I’m waiting for clearance to start studying what we found.”
“What do you do again?”
Suguru chuckled, pulling his wallet out and handing you a card. “I’m an archaeologist at the University of Tokyo. I go on digs here, there, everywhere.” You took his card in your hand, rubbing your thumb over his name nicely printed in ink.
“So that explains all the ancient cities and dinosaur books you check out, Professor Geto.”
“Guilty as charged.”
“So, Professor, seeing we both have free time, could I ask you for dinner?”
Bold and to the point, Suguru didn’t think it would be possible to like you more than he did. But lo and behold, his heart skipped a beat at your words. You were the kind of woman to take what you wanted, even if that meant you had to be the one taking the reins for a moment.
While you seem calm and collected on the outside, on the inside, every nerve of your being was on fire and freaking out. You had just asked the hottest man you had ever seen in your entire life to dinner. This wasn't like you at all. You usually were shy and waited for someone to ask you out. But you didn't want to wait for someone else to ask Suguru out. You had to be assertive. And from how Suguru was smirking, his pierced tongue swooping at his upper lip, he must have liked your question.
“How does Saturday sound to you? My girls are going to a pizza parlor and arcade with some of my friend's kids.”
“You mean the members of your single dad club?”
“Well,” he glanced over his shoulder towards the children's section, where he spotted Nanami talking to Gojo as his new girlfriend read to the children at their feet. “We just so happened to lose one of our members just recently. So I don’t think we could qualify as a club anymore.”
“Is that so?” you glance at the group., smirking slightly. “Could he even run a club with a singular member?”
With a blink, Suguru turned to look down at you with dark bangs falling over his eyes. “Singular? There are two of us still in his club.” You run manicured nails slowly down his chest.
“Hopefully, you won’t be single much longer if our date goes well.” there you go again with your assertiveness! Making Suguru snicker with apparent amusement as he peered down at you.
“Princess, you are something else.”
Which was not a bad thing at all. It only intrigued Suguru to get to know you more personally. There was just something about you that pulled him in, and he wasn’t going to fight against it anymore. If Nanami could meet such a lovely partner and seem happier for the first time in years, he should be able to do the same.
“There is nothing wrong with being optimistic about what could happen for us in the future.” with your heart, you waved his card in front of his face. “So Saturday, you could pick me up after work. I get off at four.”
“Four sounds like a good time. I’ll pick you up here at the library. Is that okay?”
“That works out great; we can just head to a restaurant afterward.”
Suguru hadn’t been this excited in years for a date. He found himself beaming with excitement as he walked back to the group. Nanami was oblivious, paying more attention to his little girlfriend who was talking to Yuuji, but Satoru, his best friend, saw the expression on his face. It was the same giddy smile that Nanami was constantly wearing.
“No, oh god.” Satoru pushed his sunglasses up, Brushing his bangs back against his head. “Not you, too!” The pout on his face draws his girls' attention as they look between the two men.
“What happened?”
“Oh, I just got asked out on a date.”
Satoru scrunched his face in disgust while Nanako and Mimiko lit up, eyes sparkling as their heads darted towards you, and you checked out some books for a family. Their little smiles and excited glances between you and their father gave Suguru the strange indication that this was something they had been hoping for. His girls adored you, and with every passing Tuesday, he found himself adoring you more and more.
His dark eyes followed his daughters as he watched you up some of your hair behind your ear, scanning several books, ignoring the angry whispers that resonated from his best friend. Something about how now he was the only single one between the three, life wasn’t fair, yada yada. Nothing else mattered except watching you and that beautiful anchor dress going about your mundane tasks.
You were stunning, and he couldn’t wait for Saturday.
It seemed like it took forever for your highly anticipated day to come around finally. You found your eyes glued to the clock with every passing second, counting down the hours until it was four. Saturdays were reasonably busy at the library, but since it was summer, it was dead. There was no one walking the rows of bookcases. You found yourself bored, tapping your nails against the counter, waiting for someone or anything to happen.
Much to display, nothing of that sort happened; Suguru didn’t come rushing in like you had imagined countless times before. He didn’t throw all the books off your desk and take you there for your moans to bounce off the large echoing walls. Your daydreaming left you feeling horny and needy, not the way you wanted to spend your Saturday, especially when you had a date later. How were you going to be able to focus on Suguru when your panties were soaked?
“Fuuck,” you grumbled as you flipped through the returned books on your desk to distract yourself. Nothing other than fantasizing about getting railed didn't make this day faster. “Hurry up.” you scolded the clock on the wall. These next thirty minutes would be the longest thirty minutes of your existence.
Instead of standing around doing absolutely nothing, you decided to put the most recent returned books away. Heading down the aisles of bookcases, trail your fingers over the spines, looking for the missing places where the books you currently held belonged. With each step you took, you felt like eyes were on you. Watching you from a distance, taking you in, you stood on your tiptoes, sliding a book into place.
The lingering gaze didn’t leave you feeling unsettled. Instead, it had your heart palpitating, heat, pulling between your legs. If you weren’t able to smell the earthy, minty scent that followed you through the library, you might have been freaked out. But instead, you found yourself strutting forward, swaying your hips as the smell of the person following you strengthened. In a way, having him follow you like this in a public place was erotic in its way.
You had read plenty of smutty romance books; this was a trope that you liked. The hero follows the heroine. He kept a watchful eye on her. And if it was written well enough and never came off as creepy. If anything, it was almost romantic.
Unfortunately, neither of those options could describe the current emotions and sensations you were feeling.
It wasn’t a romantic gesture (yet), and being followed like this by him didn't give you the creeps. Instead, it did the opposite. You found yourself walking as seductively as you could, perking your ass up as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to draw him out from wherever he was watching you. Oh, and Suguru was watching from the other aisle, grinning as you glanced over your shoulder and in his direction. You couldn't see him but could feel him watching you closely.
“Hey~ if you're not too busy watching me, maybe you could come around here and give me a hand? I don’t have a stepladder, and I need to put this book on a shelf that's too high for me to reach.”
“Mmm, are you sure you need my help? Or do you want me to come out of my hiding place?” the walls and shelves made it almost impossible for you to pinpoint where he was hiding.
“Maybe both. But I’m more inclined to the second option.”
Suguru laughed near you, and you heard his shoes against the floor. “And what exactly do you have planned for me when I leave my hiding place?” Glancing at your watch, you confirmed that you were still on the clock for the next ten minutes.
“Oh~ I have a few ideas.”
“What ideas are those, Princess?”
��To have you put this book back on the shelf, I can't reach.”
A deep, gravelly chuckle sounds from behind you before footsteps tread over the marble flooring. With each step, you felt your knees growing weaker, your eyes darting to either end of the aisle you were in before the black shadow stretched out over the floor. Following it, you find Suguru standing before you with his hand shoved into his pockets.
He looks so handsome, hair tied up in his signature half-up, half-down style, and his bangs move as he tilts his head to the side. Suguru’s dark gray button-down shirt is tucked into his pants, his black blazer is draped over his shoulder, and his pointer finger is hooked around the collar. Dark eyes focus on the book you’re trying to put away, and he notes how you barely try to reach it.
“Oooh, so you need my help?”
“Yes, please.”
Thanks to his long legs, it doesn’t take long for Suguru to close the distance between you. You feel him get behind you, pressing his body against yours as he so gently takes the book out of your hand. But he doesn’t simply put the book where it goes and step away from you. No, he presses himself fully against your back, gently shoving you against the bookcase, breasts pressing up against the shelves as he reaches slowly up to return the book to its rightful place.
Suguru notices the hitch in your breath and how every muscle in your shoulder seems tense as he presses harder against you. You can feel everything he has to offer: his toned muscles, the sultry laugh that escapes him, and the erection that's starting to grow within the confines of his pants. It leaves a little to the imagination from the mirror size of his packing. Feeling his twitching cock against the curve of your ass had you shutting your eyes tight as you resisted the urge to rock back against, to grind against that thick, hard cock.
Even though you try to play it cool, your body fails to get the memo. Your trembling legs and flushed skin were a dead giveaway that you were insanely aroused. Suguru isn't doing much better. You can feel his hot breath fanning against the nape of your neck as he slides the book slowly into place. Even when the task is done, he doesn't move. Neither of you dare to move an inch.
“So tell me, princess, is there anything else I can help you with?” He rules his hips slowly against the fat of your ass to emphasize his question. “Or would you prefer for us to go to dinner?”
“Fuck.”
“Huh? What was that Princess? I didn’t quite catch that.” He rolls his hips harder against you, angling them an inch and teasing your clothed cunt.
Your pretty navy blue sun dress, covered in white and pink flowers, rides up. “I said ‘fuck’” Giving in to your urges, you rock back against him, drawing out a grunt from the man behind you. “As in fuck that feels good, fuck you're so hot, and fuck, I want you to fuck me.” It happens so fast that you can barely process what’s going on.
Suguru grabs your hips, pulling you back enough for your ass to stick out while you press your hands against the bookcase. You took your bottom lip between your teeth, moaning as Suguru groped your ass. Your skin is so soft and warm; feeling it against his bare hand makes his cock throb harder. The tension between you is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
All of your fantasies from the long day were finally coming true. Feeling this gorgeous man you had been pining after for months, grabbing your ass, pulling you back, and making you move the way he wanted, was all you had been wanting. You were soaking wet, so goddamn wet for this handsome man. As soft whimpers flowed through your mouth, Suguru was entranced by your skin. It's beautiful and so smooth. He admired how well your pretty little sundress complimented your skin and how stunning you looked bent over like this for him. God, he was going to fuck you so good you forgot your name.
“You're okay with this?” Suguru asked, his fingers inching towards your panties, his index finger slowly rubbing circles over the wet spot on them.
“I just asked you to fuck me~ yes, I'm okay with this.”
“Mmm, just wanna make sure baby.” Long fingers tugged your panties to the side before Suguru slowly began rubbing his thumb over your clit in slow circles.
“Ah~ yes fuck—”
His thumb slowly flicked your sensitive bundle of nerves. “We're going things a bit out of order tonight.” Fingers dipped down, collecting some of your slick arousal before returning to his gentle strokes. “But I hope you know I thoroughly plan on fucking you again after I take you out on a property date.” Your legs shook under his constant movements and dirty words. God, it was getting hard to breathe as more moans began to rise in your throat.
“I-I would be disappointed if you didn't.”
“Oh well, we can't have any of that—” his middle and index finger slid deep inside your cunt, drawing out a loud moan from you. “Can we?”
“Haaah~ fuck—!”
“Yeah, does that feel good?” Suguru watched with a seductive smile as you nodded, words failing to articulate on your tongue. “Your pussy is squeezing my fingers like it feels really good~.”
Your hands press harder against the worn spines of the books as you try to look back at Suguru, only every time you try, his fingers just so happen to brush over your g-spot. The pleasurable shocks made it impossible for you to form human words. Seeing your eyes rolling back, as your bottom lips turning a darker shade from how hard you were biting it, only made Suguru plunge his fingers in and out of you faster.
With buckling knees, you cried out softly, the growing tremors of your orgasm rocking through you. An orgasm that was going to leave you a mushy piece of jello. The pressure just kept growing and building, the lid about to pop off when Sughru quickly retracted his fingers out of your soaking cunt. Feeling the loss of his fingers was not what you had been wanting, but before you could even begin to protest, you listened to a belt being unbuckled behind you.
Without the constant salt of his fingers against your weak spot, you were finally able to glance over your shoulder at him. Suguru was a flushed mess; lips were slightly parted, and his eyes were narrowed, focusing on the small of your back before they glanced towards your gaze. He looked absolutely feral, like a starved man sitting before a feast.
You watched closely as he unfastened his pants before pulling his girthy cock out. Suguru jerked himself with a few strokes before grinding it slowly over your wet folds, the tip teasing your clit before he pulled back to press against your entrance before going back towards your clit. It was an agonizing pattern with you hissing under your breath in frustration.
“Geto, please don't tease me.”
“Oooh, but it's so fun watching you squirm.” His long dark hair fell over her shoulder as he bent down, pressing kisses against your shoulder. “Seeing you fall apart so easily makes me want to tease you even more, Princess.”
“N-No, please don't.”
“No?”
“I need you, please, Geto.”
"It's Suguru." He said grabbing your hair tugging on it. "When I'm balls fuckin' deep inside your tight fucking pussy, it's Suguru." He bit down on your earlobe. "Not Geto, not Professor, Suguru."
Without having to be asked a third time, you felt him press the head of his cock past the tight ring of muscles of your entrance. His fast tip stole your breath away as your eyes widened, nails digging into the shelf before you. Suguru slowly inched himself further inside of you, inch by inch, until his raw cock was entirely inside of you.
You were moaning softly as he started thrusting into you with no warning.“Fu-Fuck! A-Ah!, I like the s-sound of that, Suguru! I like this~ fuck! I like you!”
“Mmm, I like you too." He continued to finger fuck you as he pressed his chest against your back. "You also like the thrill, huh?" He angled his hips, pushing against the head of his cock against your g-spot. "Do you like the idea of someone walking in here? Seeing the cute librarian getting fucked?” He nipped at the shell of her ear?
You cried out louder, feeling his cock pushing deeper as he tucked into you at a gentle pace. "Yes~ I love the idea of getting caught with you~"
"Me too." He released the grip on your hair freeing his hand to slap your ass. "Naughty fucking slut." He spread your cheeks, watching his cock slide in and out of your count, a ring of your combined pre-cum forming around his base. "Wanting me to fuck you before I can take you out properly."
“I-I needed you!” His cock is sliding in and out of your gummy walls, brushing over every sweet spot inside of you. He rocks into you and slams into you harder, making the bookcase you're pressing against shake in protest over the force of his thrusts. You keened, whimpering as he rammed into your cervix. "I’ve wanted this so bad, Sugu~~ fuck me; use me like a toy, please!!”
"A toy? Oh fuck no, baby, you're my Princess." His hand roughly moved your back as he wrapped his long, calloused fingers around your neck. Every nerve in your body trembled as he wrapped his hand around your throat. "You’re not a toy, and you never will be.” His fingers tightened around your throat, cutting off your air just a bit.
Your eyes rolled back, your moans becoming higher pitched as he choked you. "Oh god, yes! Suguru!! Sugu, I want to be your Princess; I promise I'll be good to you and do anything to be a good girl!!” Suguru mewled, squeezing tighter as you dropped your hand between your thighs, rubbing fast circles around your clit.
“Baby~ you’re already perfect~ god, I’m going to treat you so good~ fuck!”
"Y-Yeah! M-Me too—me too! I-I’m going to be the best partner." You cried out, turning to try and kiss him, to which he caught your lips in a heated one. "F-Fuck Sugu~ you feel s-so fucking good."
“So do you~ so wet and tight for me~ gonna make me cum~.”
“Y-Yes! Please cum~! I want to cum with you! Please~! Please~!”
Upon hearing your request, Suguru started slamming harder into you. "Alright, babe, cum with me~ cum on my cock." He growled, realizing your throat, dropping both his hands to your hips fucking into you with all his strength. "Cum for me, cum for me, Princess~!" He gritted his teeth before blowing his load, hot cum spurting inside of you.
“O-oooh fuck!” It was the feeling of his orgasm that pulled you over the edge of yours. You screamed as you came, hard gushing around him, rocking back as he panted heavily behind you.
By the time the orgasmic waves finally stopped pulsing through you both, you were both on the ground, his arms wrapped around you as he regained your breathing. He watched as the rays of sunlight highlighted your pretty features as you slowly regained your senses. Only once your breathing was regulated and your eyes were focused again did he gently cup your face, kissing you so softly that it had you melting into his body.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Suguru whispered as he rested his chin on your head. His hands gently rubbed your back as he tried to get the feeling to return to his legs.
“Probably as long as I have.” You snuggle your face into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent, and he chuckles softly. “Every Tuesday, I hoped you’d ask me out.”
“Mmm, I was going to, but you beat me to it.” He kissed your forehead, smiling. “I’m glad you did.”
“I am, too.”
Suguru couldn’t help but shut his eyes, relishing the warmth of your body against his. Being with you always made his day; my Tuesdays have been his favorite days of the week. But now that you were wrapped in his arms, and we’re about to go on your actual date Suguru knew in his heart, every day he would spend with you would be his favorite day.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3
#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#jjk#jjk reader smut#jjk reader insert#jjk y/n#jujutsu kaisen reader smut#jjk gojo smut#jjk men#geto x reader smut#jjk reader insert smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#Jujutsu kaisen#jjk geto suguru#suguru geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto x reader au#jjk geto x reader smut#geto x reader fluff#jjk suguru geto#jujutsu kaisen geto#geto smut#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#jujutsu geto#geto x you#geto x y/n
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WASTE NOT (18+)
or, the reader is travelling with the Ghoul when he discovers she's never fucked before. You figure out what comes next.
cooper howard/the ghoul x reader | warnings/notes: loss of virginity, masturbation, exhibitionism, piv sex, oral sex, barely proofread | side note: i might end up reusing this general plot for a longer multi-chapter fic, we'll see
read on AO3
Five hundred caps, two hundred upfront.
That’s how much it took for you to get out of the gilded cage that was your hometown, a decent sized settlement inside of what used to be a Rodeo stadium and aptly named for it. That’s all it took for you to escape your father, the mayor of said town who kept you under lock and key, both literally and figuratively. You’d tried to escape before, attempts that had been thwarted before they even began. It only led to you being locked in your room and only allowed to walk the town with a bodyguard, someone hired to make sure you didn’t run for it.
Some people might say that it was a privilege to be cared for so much that you didn’t have to constantly fight for your life. You thought it was a surefire way to get you killed when you finally did leave his grasp.
Since running away, you’d done many things for the first time that most people did before they were even ten years old. Held a gun, caught your own food, killed a man.
And the man you’d paid to take you through the wastes was the first ghoul you’d ever met. Your settlement didn’t ban them from entering, but they weren’t exactly welcoming either. But you’d been immediately drawn to him, which you at first chalked up to the novelty of meeting a new kind of person, the kind you’d only read about.
However, as you’d continued traveling with him and the novelty wore off, you quickly realized that the draw you felt to him wasn’t just because of culture shock.
The Ghoul, which was the only thing you called him because he’d given you nothing else to call him, was sitting by the fire he’d built, a slow curl of smoke drifting from the cigarette hanging in his mouth. You looked over at him, observing how the light from the flames reflected off of his worn and imperfect skin. It was a sight you’d seen almost every night this week, but every time you felt like it was the first time you were seeing him.
Your week was almost up. When you’d hired him, you’d told him you only wanted to leave your town for a week, just to experience the Wastes before returning to your “ivory tower,” (his words, not yours). It had taken some bargaining on your end (and you had to give him chems in addition to the caps) but it had worked. You were out of the clutches of your father, you were finally experiencing life for the first time.
And you had no intention of going back when the week was over.
You were sitting across the room, perched on an old bed that was still standing in the half-ruined house, though shack might be more accurate. An entire wall was missing, letting you look right into the starry night sky from your seat. But mainly you were looking at the Ghoul, who was looking after one of his guns. You brought the drink you’d been nursing- just a Nuka-Cola you’d found on your journey and saved for this moment- taking a deep sip of the fizzy drink when he spoke up.
“Stop starin’ at me.”
You choked, sputtering up the Nuka-Cola in your attempt to catch your breath. In your coughing, you only managed to spill more of the drink on yourself, an unfortunate chain of events that left you with a soaked through shirt. You cursed under your breath, looking down at the brown liquid that would surely stain the fabric. Did you even have a clean replacement in your bag?
Leaning towards your bag, you placed the almost empty bottle on the floor before flipping the flap, peering inside.
“You might wanna take that off before the flies smell the sugar.”
Your current task forgotten, you stared up at the Ghoul, who wasn’t even looking at you when he said it. But the idea of taking your shirt off around him when you knew that he could see it was terrifying. However, he was right when he said you’d need to get the shirt off of your body soon and put it into your bag. Who knows how much sugar was in Nuka-Cola, how far its sweet scent would travel if it was out in the open. And you certainly didn’t want to attract any bugs your way.
Sitting up straight, you cleared your throat. Your fingers worried at the hem of your shirt.
“Could you turn around…” Your voice trailed off at the look on his face, a brief glance your way.
“It’s nothing I ain’t seen on other women.”
“Okay, but I’ve never-” You stopped yourself from finishing your sentence, realizing exactly what you were admitting, but the damage was already done. The Ghoul leaned forward and you tightened your grip around yourself, as if the shirt still being on your body would protect you from his judgment.
“You’ve never…?” The pregnant pause hung in the air between you, but you weren’t going to clarify. You didn’t move, which must have been enough of a confirmation for him because he whistled low in his mouth. “Why am I not surprised? You didn’t even know how to shoot a gun.”
As if shooting a gun naturally came before losing your virginity. (Maybe it did, you wouldn’t know).
“Can you stop?” You huffed, your face hot. “If I had wanted to, I would have.”
But it seemed that any of your attempts to get him to drop the subject wouldn’t work, because he was looking at you intensely, an unreadable look in his surprisingly human eyes. Not for the first time, you wondered what he looked like when he was human. You’d tried before, to imagine what it looked like when his skin was smooth and he had a nose and hair, but nothing seemed to match his demeanor as well as being a ghoul did.
“And why didn’t you want to?”
“I-” You swallowed nervously, your heartbeat in your throat choking you. “I didn’t see the point, not when my dad is probably going to marry me off to some geezer who can’t get it up anyway. And I don’t need your judgment about it.”
You were now trying to hold onto any semblance of dignity you had left. Pretending like you’d made a conscious choice to not lose your virginity instead of it being a result of your virtual imprisonment by your father. Like you hadn’t yearned for the touch of someone else. (And, of course, like you hadn’t yearned at all for him over the course of the past week.)
“Do you touch yourself, at least?”
You froze, looking across the room at him like he was a Deathclaw. He leaned forward, perching his elbows on his knees. Like he could smell your apprehension, or worse, your burgeoning arousal.
“Do you touch yourself?”
This isn't something you had talked about ever with anyone. But you couldn’t help answering him. “Y-yes.” If he looked surprised that you actually spoke, you couldn’t tell over your own embarrassment.
“Show me.” When you didn’t respond, still sitting there staring at him like he had grown two heads, he sat back in his seat again, his hat dipping low. “Or don’t. I’m not going to force-”
You cut him off before he could continue, suddenly not wanting this opportunity to pass you by. After all, you only had this last night with him and then you would go your separate ways. If you horribly embarrassed yourself, it would only be for tonight. “Okay.” You think that this is your biggest streak of surprising the Ghoul. But he recovered quickly, a sly grin sneaking onto his face.
“Take your shirt off first.”
Nodding, you slowly reached down to the hem of your shirt, trying and failing to will your hands to stop trembling. Then, quickly, you peeled the sticky fabric off of your skin. You were a bit annoyed that you had managed to spill so much onto the shirt- it was a nice shirt, a rare find on the surface. But it didn’t matter now, considering where it had led you.
You dropped your shirt onto the floor, unable to look at him as he surely looked at your chest.
Suddenly feeling bold from his gaze, you did more than just take off the glorified rag from your chest- you divested yourself of all of your clothes, placing them into a messy pile by the mattress. You were now exposed to the elements and to his gaze, heavy as he looked over your body. Once again, he didn’t betray any of the surprise he might have felt.
“Should I-”
“Lie down.”
You stared at him before you slowly lowered yourself, trying to keep your eyes on him. When you couldn’t anymore, you closed your eyes. If you couldn’t see him, it wouldn’t be nerve wracking to be watched. But even as you thought it, you could feel the heat of his gaze on you.
“Touch yourself.”
At his surprisingly gentle command, you exhaled shakily. Gently, you dragged your hand down your body, your breath quick. After a moment of teasing yourself, you pressed the pads of two fingers against your clit, rubbing a slow circle against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
Immediately, you sighed, relieving tension you didn’t know had been building. While you had masturbated every night at home, you certainly needed the relief it gave you after a week of stress and almost dying. You were surprisingly wet, though not enough to qualify as dripping. your fingers circled your clit, your hips sudden bucking slightly.
Across from you, the Ghoul groaned, and you tilted your head up, looking at him. His eyes were entirely focused on your cunt, watching the wet slide of your fingers over your folds. His teeth were clenched together, and you gasped at the sight of him watching you so intently before you bit your lip to muffle the sound. Then his eyes moved from your fingers, looking you straight in the eyes as he started to speak.
“I bet you touched yourself all quiet, trying not to let daddy hear you fucking yourself. But your daddy ain’t here, and I want to hear the noises you make.”
You whined, his words going straight to your cunt. What was more painful was that he was correct- many nights you’d bit your pillow as you’d fucked yourself with your fingers, trying to keep quiet.
“Go ahead, slip a finger inside-“
You stopped moving, looking at him again, taking the moment to catch your breath.
“I’ve never really done that-“
The Ghoul cursed, and before you could blink he was off of his chair, moving closer. He was now knelt in between your legs, his gloved hands on your knees and staring up at you.
“I gotta fuckin teach you everything, don’t I?”
Swiftly, he removed his gloves, throwing them onto the pile of your clothes. Then he swatted your hand away from your cunt before replacing it with his own fingers. At the dramatic shift in skin texture you gasped, immediately grinding against his rough fingers mindlessly as your hands flew to your mouth to muffle your cries.
“None of that, I told you I’m gonna hear the sounds you’re making ‘cause of me.”
He moved down your body, pressing kisses and delivering brief bites to your flesh. With each nip of his teeth you gasped, torn between the desire to push his head away or beg for more. Then he reached your sex, pausing for a moment and letting his warm breath fan over you. You squirmed, unsure if you wanted to beg him to touch you or if you wanted to run away from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all.
Then his mouth was hot against you, his tongue licking a thick stripe up the length of your cunt, and you wondered why you’d ever thought about not letting him do this. With no nose in the way, he was able to press his face fully against you. He dipped his tongue into your opening, flicking it against your walls and thrusting a few times, the movement of his tongue in addition to his fingers overwhelming.
He groaned against you as he lapped up your wetness, sounds of a man dying of thirst reaching an oasis.
With a final wet sound, he removed his tongue before moving to suck on your clit, his hand moving from your thighs to return to your core.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He murmured as he pressed two of his fingers inside of you. You’d tried before to fuck your self like this but always found the feeling unsatisfactory. But his fingers were larger than yours, able to hit the places inside of you that you had begun to think were myths.
It was overpowering, and any thoughts that weren’t about him quickly dissipated.
Every indent and ridge of his skin dragged along your cunt and the sensation of being filled combined with the attention he was giving to your clit started to build you towards your peak.
“Come for me, cmon.”
But even though you’d never come before at the hands of another, you knew what you wanted. You were afraid that if you came now, he wouldn’t actually fuck you. And if you were taken back to your rinky-dink town, you wanted to at least say you’d been fucked by someone you wanted.
“I want to feel you- hm- inside me.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.” His teeth were gritted together again, like he was so entirely focused on making you come that he didn't want to hear anything else.
“Yes, I do.” You raised your hips to meet the thrust of his fingers. “I want your cock, I need you to fuck me-“
“Fuck.” He murmured, eyes lidded as whatever shaky resolve about actually fucking you he had broke. “For someone who never killed before this week, you’re dangerous.”
With swift movement, he pulled himself out of his pants and climbed up your body, pressing his hips against yours. He hovered above you, the head of his cock rested heavy on your clit, his hips rolling once to grind the length against your wet cunt.
“Please.” You murmured, raising your hips to meet his cock. He gave you a dark look, and if he had eyebrows you’re sure one of them would be raised as if to say ‘you ready?’
Then he started to press in, his thick head catching before he pushed through the tight ring of your opening. Your mouth was slack, eyebrows furrowed as you focused on relaxing for every inch that was slowly pressing into you. When you looked at him, he was entirely focused on watching his cock disappear into your wet heat.
He was slow, but you didn’t think it was due to any care for your comfort. No, from the look on his face, you would hazard a guess that he enjoyed slowly taking your virginity, feeling each inch of you give way to his thick cock. He liked the surrender.
When his hips finally nestled against yours, he rested for a moment, his breath heavy.
“Ready?”
Okay, maybe he cares slightly about your comfort- the thought was quickly erased when he pulled out and slammed back in, filling you quickly. You cursed, your hands flying to the bed to scramble for something to hold on to. But there were no sheets on the filthy mattress. So instead, you reached up to him, grasping the back of his duster for dear life as he began to fuck you in earnest.
He lowered himself as you wrapped your naked legs around his hips, bracing himself on his elbows above you.
“So fucking tight.” He murmured against your face. One of his hands slipped from where it was braced above you to circle around your clit, the pressure just enough to send you back towards your peak. “This cunt belongs to me now, y’hear?”
“Yes- fuck.” You babbled, and when he whispered against you to finally come, you did so with no hesitation. Your legs gripped him tighter against you, his thrusts shorter but more forceful with the constraint. With your cunt clenching around him as you sighed through the aftershocks of your orgasm, he removed his hand to suddenly grab your chin, looking you in the eyes.
“Where should I-“
“Inside me, inside me please.”
For a moment he looked like he was going to argue with you. But then you clenched down on his length again and his hips stuttered against you, a low groan escaping him. Reinvigorated, he began fucking you even harder, which had seemed impossible.
“Take it, take my cum like a good girl- that’s it-“ his words left him as he finally finished, his hips pumping as he cursed and spilled his warm spend inside you. You hummed at the feeling of it, the tiny thrusts as he pumped you full of him dragging his cock along your sensitive walls.
When he finally pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your opening, he looked back at your face with a sly smile.
“I hope you have some RadAway at home.”
____
The Ghoul didn’t bring you back into the city. He seemed to think you were experienced enough to handle the last hundred yards of desert without him. I’ll come back later for the rest of my caps, I have some business I need to deal with. Did you feel a little bad that you were cheating him out of three hundred caps? Yes. But you hadn’t thought this far when you’d paid him the first time, and now it was too late.
You barely said goodbye.
Once you were out of sight, you took off running in the opposite direction, only looking behind you once to make sure no one was watching or worse, following.
You were free.
____
Well, you were free for about two days.
Then, one evening, you sheltered yourself in an abandoned house. Two stories, though you only peeked in the upper story to see if there was anything worth grabbing. You didn’t want to risk the floor falling out from under your feet.
A noise in the doorway draws your attention upwards, to where the Ghoul stands, silhouetted in the setting sun, like he had just left for a second, not for days.
You’re allowed a split moment of happiness at the sight of the familiar figure before you recognize what's in his hands. You barely have a second to try and escape before, like a flash, he whips the lasso around your torso, drawing it tight and pulling you closer as you struggled against the rope. But it held fast, and with every passing second you were losing ground. Finally the pressure of the rope was too much and you collapsed to the ground, the sun bearing down in your eyes until a shadow fell over your face.
“Y’know, when I went back to your little… Rod-e-o to collect on the final portion of my payment, I really expected to see you there. Tellin’ people you regret ever leaving. Maybe I’d have to rough you up a bit for the caps, though I’m sure you’d enjoy that. So imagine my surprise when I find out your father has put up a reward for whoever finds ya and brings ya back.” He laughed, a cruel and humorless thing. “I’ll get paid for takin’ you out and takin’ you in. And the word around town is that there’s a man there willin’ to take you off your father’s hands.”
His last words made your stomach sink, more than anything else he had said. It was something your father had threatened, even if he hadn’t meant it as a threat. Maybe he thought it was your dream to marry and have children. But you knew that whatever man he picked for you to marry would be powerful, powerful enough to ensure that your father would remain in office until he died.
And powerful men were cruel.
“No-” You gasped out, suddenly out of breath.
“Ah-ah-ah.” The Ghoul tuts softly, leaning down. “D’ya really think a week is enough experience to survive out here?”
“I won’t go back.” You spit, renewing your struggle against the rope. “You can’t make me.”
If you were a complete idiot, you’d say: I’d rather die than go back. Because while, in spirit, it was true, you knew that he would take your word for it. And you really didn’t want to tempt him to put a bullet through your brain.
You may have fucked him, but you certainly weren’t anything special to him.
“You don’t have much of a choice, sweetheart.”
“He wants to marry me off!” You said, like saying it indignantly would change his mind about taking you in as a bounty. “I refuse.”
“And what’ll you do when I drag you back?”
Find a way to escape again, even if it takes years.
Like he read the answer in your eyes, he stood up straight.
“I sympathize, I really do-” You sincerely doubted it, but let him keep talking, “but unless you’ve got something better to offer me, I’m afraid you’re going in.”
“How many caps is he offering you?”
“600.”
“I have more saved.” You laughed, though it lacked any actual humor. “Every cap he gave me for years, I’ve squirreled away. Not letting me leave my room really helped me save money.”
“And how, exactly, are you going to get to your stash without your daddy finding you?”
You tried to find kindness in his words and were surprised when you did. Though he may not have meant it, he had already given you a perfect out the night before.
“No self-respecting man is going to want to marry a woman who fucked a ghoul. And no mayor will tolerate his daughter making a fool of him like that.”
For a moment, you think he takes offense to this. But then a smile creeps across his face, hot and hungry.
“Well then, I think we can come to an agreement.”
#don't let this flop#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul#the ghoul x reader#the ghoul x you#fallout#fallout series#fallout fanfic#reader insert#my writing#lemon#it is 7:30
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Dutty-Wine and Games
(This the reader’s facecard but just imagined her being thicker ☺️ and this is what Terry’s wearing for tonight.)
Summary: It’s date night for you and your man Terry and he wanted to surprise you by taking you to the Caribbean Festival that you were talking about to him couple months ago and Terry getting you a souvenir that tested his man-strength also not knowing that tonight you would get your man high for the first time.
Warnings: Est. relationship, black fem. reader, n-word usage, D/s dynamic, smoking weed (a joint), kissing, oral(fem. rec x2), cursing, spitting, choking, hair pulling, dirty talk, praise kink, ass-spanking, squirting, unprotected p-in-v, doggy-style, the reader’s legs are on his shoulder(idk the position.)
Word-count: 3.5 k 18+ (this is the song that use dutty-wine scene if y’all wanna listen you can🙂↕️)
You’ve been dating Terry for the past eight of months and it has been amazing with him since he moved here to Atlanta after winning his case against Shelby Springs Pd and getting a large sum of money for himself and paying back Mr.Liu in ten folds and to have the restaurant to be open for decades. You met Terry on a dating website for other black people to meet, once you saw his profile and them beautiful hazel eyes he had with his bulging arms and large print you knew you had to have him. And today is another date night with him even though you don't know where you’re going.
“So I have a surprise for you, it’s something that we’ve seen a couple of months ago and it’s finally here this weekend.” Terry pulls into an empty lot to find parking for his truck to back in, turning off the ignition and coming around to open the door for you and only grabbing your phone and your lipgloss since you won’t need your purse.
“Good baby you are so fine right now, you lucky there’s going to be people there cause if not-” You put a hand on his gold chain he had laying on his chest to pull him down to kiss you, his soft lips overpowering you, slowly being push up against his truck, putting your hands up against his hips to push away “Okayyy daddy, you are done you still have to tell me what my surprise is?” looking into his eyes and shifting to his lips and back to his eyes “Well for what I’m wearing that should give you a hint?” smiling back at you and stepping back for you while holding your chocolate hand.
Your eyes shift down to his shirt to see he is wearing his curacao shirt that was makin’ look like a full course meal, his shirt fitted around his arms so deliciously with his big ass guns he had on him with his khakis pants that filled his legs out sooo good and his white forces and then you realized and smelling many flavors of jerk chicken, plantains being cooked, and a light smell of weed; your eyes widened “The Carribean Festival, awhh Terry I thought you forgot that I told you that I always wanted to go.” you poke out your bottom lip in happiness showing a down towards smile to him “Awhh babygirl don’t cry, you’re gonna mess up your pretty makeup.” He swipes his thumb in the corner of your eye to catch your tear and wipes it on his shirt “All-right I’m starvin’, let’s go inside before I eat something else mhm.” Terry smacks right on your ass making your Jamaican colored dress giggle.
You both made inside with him paying for the both of you, this festival was fucking huge with rollercoasters, kiddy rides, carnival games and tents full of vendors selling their amazing food, Terry let you choose for what you both wanted for dinner, you ended up getting a plate of jerk chicken and rice and a side of fried plantains and Terry got a bowl of beef stew with rice, carrots and potatoes with two drinks, as he paid for the both of you again, both of you sit a table.
“So do you want to ride any of the rollercoasters while we're here babygirl?” Terry holds out both of his hands in front of you, nodding your head at him and resting your hands on top of his large palms “Yeah daddy you know I’m not a scaredy cat. I’m a big girl.” sticking out your tongue at him, he licks his lips and smirks “Oh so you a big girl now huh, so you don’t need daddy no more huh?” as he told you that you were zoned out on his veins and hands, lightly scratching your smaller hands ontop of his and looking up at him and looking into his eyes shaking your head no repeatedly “Noooo daddy.” almost coming out as a whine from you, he gives you a chuckle “You know I’m just playin’ with babygirl I know you in love with daddy’s dick.” he leans over to give you a wet kiss on your lips.
“Order for Terry, Order for Terry.”
He comes back with the food and lays it in front of you, you were in foodie heaven and you were starvin’ like marvin too and both of you dig in eating your delicious food, you look at his bowl and somehow he already knew what you were thinking, he places a couple of pieces of meat and carrots with sauce on your plate you smiled at him and thanked him “Did you want some of my mine too?” he nods his head with still found in his mouth, you grab your fork to pick off the chicken and rice for him and had in the air for him and opens his mouth to you and gracefully took the food, you look at him as he eats the food, you were in a traced that someone could look so sexy while there eating once he swallows it and it goes down you couldn’t help but to look at his thick neck a sheen of sweat that made you wanted to climb over the table and tackle him.
Both of you walked around the festival once you guys were done eating holding each other hands and looking at people, rides, and hearing laughter coming from all around you see a dance floor in the middle of the festival with some dutty-whine music playing throughout the place you lead him to dance floor, slowly moving your hips to the beat of the song Terry comes up behind you to stop where you were at and put his hands on your hips and starts to dutty-wine with you, your hands were on your knees moving your hips in a eight figure then throwing it in a circle and Terry was right there to catch all the wines, you slowly bend over hips while still moving in a circular motion he grabs one your arm to hold your balance while you grind on him, you look over long black french curls braids to see him biting his bottom lip and gripping on your hips, raising back against his chest while twerking on him, he turns you around to face him.
“Fuck babygirl you got me so fuckin hard right now, grinding that ass on me I feel like I was about to nut if you didn’t stop.” you put arms around his neck and peck his lips also to block anyone that would see your daddy’s hard-on “We can stay like until your soft daddy.” he raises his head to look at you and gives you a sloppy wet kiss. A few minutes later Terry was feeling better and both kept walking through the festival in-hand and you stopped in your tracks to walk up to the booth and asked the worker at the tall sledgehammer machine.
“Excuse me, how many games do I need to win that teddy bear up there?” the buck-tooth boy turns “Four ma’am.”
You turned around to look for Terry and seeing him already behind you not leaving you any room, his gorgeous eyes going straight to your heart and pussy “You want that big ass teddy bear babygirl?” you plead with your eyes and put on your best pouty face and wrap your arms around his neck and gettin’ all close to his face “Please please daddy- pretty please?” giving him a kiss on the lips he wraps his arms around your waist he takes a deep breath “One more-mhm one more- one more babygirl.” you giggle in his arms “All right babygirl here take my phone, I’m gonna get you that teddy bear.” and gives you a small love tap on your ass and pays the worker then grabs the large sledgehammer.
The first bell he got was effortlessly, the second bell as well, by the third bell he had a crowd around him and you were cheering him on, and by the fourth bell he used all of his might and went it ringed you screamed and ran to him then jumped on him wrapping your arms and legs around him, giving him kisses “Thank you - thank you - thank you so much daddy.” and you still kept kissing on his face, he snorts out a giggle out as he put you down on your feet and rest his hand on your hips “Your very welcome babygirl.” “Ma’am here’s your bear.”
You got tired of carrying the bear and had Terry carry it for you as you both were walking back to the truck, he opens the passenger side first for you to get in then he stuffs the teddy bear in the back seat and gets in on his side and turns on the ignition “Back to your place baby?” you looked at him “Yeah daddy let’s go.” you take your phone to be dj for the both of you and listen to Paramore and some RnB songs on the drive home.
You opened the front door of your apartment to let Terry in so he can put the teddy bear on the couch and his night bag on the carpet you turned on some lights so you can see Terry and closed the door “You know being at that we were just at the festival today and eating some good food and dancing I have the perfect way to close out having this full caribbean experience, be right back.” You walked to your room to get your goodie bag and bring it out to the family room to show him.
“I’ve never smoked weed before, I wasn’t allowed to do it when I was in the marines.”
You slowly put back your joints that you had in your bag “But....If I wanted someone to be my first for this I would want it to be with you.” he turns to look at you “Thank you for trusting me daddy and I’m gonna get you so fuckin’ high you have no fucking idea.” you give him a kiss on the lips and one more for good measure and grab your goodie bag to sit out on your patio and smoke Terry out for the first time.
You spark the first joint in your mouth inhaling the smoke and exhaling it out, Terry was watching you the whole time seeing how your body language became relax under his touch and you holding it out in front of him to take a hit “You just want to do a little hit first, there you daddy.” He coughed abruptly out the smoke, you set down the joint to grab some water for him and came back with a glass of water for him and your pink Stanley for yourself, he took a couple of more hits before letting you hit it again “How are you feeling daddy?” he takes an even deeper breath and rubs your chocolate thigh “I feel really good babygirl. Thank you for this.” you handed it back to Terry “You’re welcome daddy, hey have you ever done a shotgun before?” Seeing him inhaling the joint and blowing it out his mouth, you couldn’t believe that this nigga has never smoked weed before and with him under the warm sunset making him looking like he was a fucking emperor with him smoking this joint, shakes his no at you “What’s that?” you slowly pull your lips in a smile.
You fill your lungs with smoke as you ashed the joint in your bowl, then grab his face to come closer to your lips and push out the smoke into his mouth, lips lightly touching each other then he moves his head up to blow out the smoke. Your mouth was slightly parted as you stared at your daddy’s adam- apple move up and down and the veins that pop out the side of his neck out, he pushed out the last bit of smoke and looked down at you and smirked “What?” still looking at him “You so handsome daddy mhm, with yo’ fine ass.” Terry grabs your hand and brings it up to his lips “Let’s go inside babygirl, I don’t want none of these little niggas know what I got, come on.” and opens the sliding glass door for you to go inside.
As you walked in, Terry closes the door and locks it and walks over to the front door and locks that one too then walks over to you to pull you into your bedroom, almost feeling like your were flying Terry turns on the bedroom light and walks over to you to pull you in for a kiss “Mhmm daddy I need you.” he gives you another kiss “What do you need baby, use your words.” he leans down to kiss your neck you moved your head the other side of give him room and moaned, moving your hands up his back to grab on the back of head his soft lips and tongue kissing all your spots making you want to his full lips somewhere else “Oh shit daddy I need to you to eat my pussy please ughh pleaseee.”
“You want me to eat your pussy babygirl huh? this pretty pussy, you need daddy’s lips on you.”
Terry took of your dress and threw it across the room and lifted you up to throw you on the bed, taking off your bra and throwing it in the corner of your room he climbs ontop of you he rests his crotch on your clothed pussy slightly moving his hips against you, he takes his hand to hold your cheek and give you a wet sloppy kiss in his mouth. You moaned in his mouth and Terry kissed down your neck to your chest then sucking on each of your breast and kissing your tummy, he sits up to take off his shirt ‘fuckkkkk meeee this nigga has to be the worldest finest man to walk on this earth’ you thought to yourself.
Terry kisses down your chocolate thighs and spreads your legs apart “Lift that ass up babygirl.” Terry takes off your panties and throws it behind him he grabs your thighs closer to his face and kissed both of your inner thighs then the bottom of your cheeks giving you little bites of pleasure “Ah- Ahh! Daddy stop teasin’ meee?” kisses your bottom one more time and hold on to your legs and dive right into your pussy, his tongue swirling all around you and bring it up to your clit slowly sucking on it, you put your hand on his head Terry moves his lips to eat you all the way up and flattens his tongue against you, moving his head against you then he lifts his head to spit at your pussy and growled against you.
“Fuck babygirl god I love this fuckin’ pussy soo much, do you wanna nut babygirl?” “Yess daddyyy.”
Terry kept eating you out with his tongue is flicking over your clit, your thighs were shaking and fighting against Terry’s hold, but it was no use then you grind out your climax on his face he gave you little kisses around your pussy and comes back up for air to face you, his goatee was dripping of you then leans down to kiss and tasting yourself on his lips the sweet and tangy flavor of it. You grab his belt to unbuckle it for him and he stopped you to pull down his khaki pants and took off his forces then got back on the bed, he grab your hips to him and got ontop of you with his fist next to your face “You ready for daddy’s big dick babygirl?” Biting your bottom lip and nodding your head.
“Yeesss dadddyyyy I want your dick- I need it - I need it so bad daddy please - give me your big daddy dick.” you gave him kisses on his full pink lips.
Terry sat up and grabbed your legs to put them on his shoulders and slowly enters your pussy, moving to a pace to slowly open you up “Fuck your pussy is so fuckin’ tight babygirl, here baby relax your legs for me ughh fuckk mee ohh yeahh that’s it babygirl.” Your legs were spread wide to your chest under the firm hold of daddy’s fingers “Ohh shitt daddy you’re fucking. Mee. Soo. Good ohh ughh fuckkk.” Terry picks up his pace to fucking you deep in your guts, he leans over to give you a wet nasty kiss he slipped his tongue in your mouth and you suck on it then biting his lip “Babygirl I can feel your pussy grippin’ me, fuckk baby are you gonna nut on my dick? You can do it babygirl, nut on daddy’s dick.” Terry hips were fucking you dizzly and your legs started to squirm again “ugh - ugghhh - uggghhh ohh fucckkk” releasing your wet essence on his dick.
“Turn the fuck around.”
He grabs your hips to flip you over on your hands and knees then pulls your hips back to face him “Goddam babygirl look at this wet pussy, this is all for daddy huh?” you lay your head on the pillows and relax your back by pushing your hips out. You moaned his name “Yes yes daddy it’s all for you, please eat my pussy daddy.” Terry smacks both of your cheeks, you gasped feeling the lightning strike you moan that turned into a whine “Daadddyyy.” Terry grabs both of your arms to hold them behind your back and he gave you a long wet lick from your clit to ass and back down to your clit then kissing down your pussy his tongue swirling in your pussy “Fuckkk daddyy ughh ohh fuckkk.” Terry used his hand held onto your hip to hold you in place so you take whatever he gives you. Feeling the heat rise again in your lower tummy, you try to scoot away but Terry leaned forward to give his tongue lashing and slurping your clit as well.
“Oh my fuckin’ god daddy ughh oh shit, you’re eatin’ my pussy soo good oohh fucckk dadddyyyy I-I’m gonnna cumm.”
Terry just kept eating you up as you wetted his face, he growled into your pussy then gave you a few pecks down your ass and released your arms and made you be on your hands and knees and you groaned out “Daddyyy.” He pulled back your hips to him “Can you give me one more babygirl? Come on you can do it baby, you’re doing soo good for daddy, don’t you wanna make daddy nut?” he leaned over your body then grab your chin to look at him with his lips just barely touching you and push your lips to him and slides in your pussy once more, Terry stretching you out and grabbing a handful of your braids to sit you up as he drilled into you, he wrap his hand around your throat and slightly closing your airways under his grip.
“Who’s pussy is this? Is this daddy’s pussy babygirl?”
“It-t’s yourss daddy fuckkk it’s all your pussy ooh fuckk.”
“Open your mouth for daddy.”
You sticked out your tongue and looked into his eyes Terry lets go some spit on your tongue and swallowing it down, he gives you sloppy kiss as he fucks the shit out you “Ughh daddy I don’t think I can cum ughh ughhhh.” Then feeling three wet fingers rubbing your clit, you horsley moaned loudly out and having your heat rise up in you for the last time “It’s okay babygirl if you wanna nut? I know you do. I can feel you mamas go ahead daddy’s gotchu.” You felt like you were exploding, shaking and shivering on Terry’s dick, him still fucking you through your climax and lets go of your neck so you fall on your pillow. He gives you a few more strokes before he cums deep inside of you.
You rest your head on his chest, listening to his speed-up heart “Thank you for this night daddy I had so much fun tonight I love you sososo much daddy.” he grabs your chin to have you look up at him “ I love you too babygirl. Daddy loves you very much and I'm glad that we went to that festival together babygirl.” Terry pulled the covers up from under the sheets and to see one large wet spot on the bed, you both looked at eachother with wide eyes and with you feeling embarrassed and covered your face then he slowly uncovers your face to hold your face in his hands.
“Heyy there’s no need to be embarrassed about this babygirl, I’m happy and proud that I was able to get to that point okay babygirl.” and gives you light pecks around your face “I’m gonna grab a towel and get a new comforter for us okay.” Once you both got situated in the bed and he had his arm wrapped around you pulling you close to him and relaxed behind you then you as well drifted off to sleep.
Holy fucking shit I can’t belive I just wrote all that 😳but I’m soooo happy that I did, I couldn’t help myself anymore thinking about this black king 🥵💕 and y’all this nigga got me like I want this nigga’s baby frfr 🤰🏿but if you had enjoy this thank you so much and I know in my heart that this nigga know how to dance I just feel it in my spirit, that nigga can and I wanted to talk about his heritage for the plot of the story. Andd High!Terry Bitchhh there was something in that weed that made him bionic cause nigga was hard for 4 rounds straight (like if he was the terminator) and Dom!Terry is always gonna do it for me especially if the nigga’s nasty, but thank you to everyone who read this it means really alot to me.
Love, Nazzy 💕
#aaron pierre#aaron pierre smut#terry richmond x black!reader#terry richmond x black oc#terry richmond smut#terry richmond#terry richmond x black reader#rebel ridge#rebel ridge fanfiction#terry richmond x reader#aaron pierre x black reader#aaron pierre x reader#terry come home the kids and our cat misses you#aaron come home the kids and our cat misses#Terry Richmond FanFicition-palooza™️#x black!reader#x black oc#x black fem reader
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Pervertido...
No le pregunten el color del cielo, porque ahora mismo solo tiene en mente las bonitas y fuertes manos de su novio (?)
#* ⠀ 🍒 ⠀ ╱ ⠀ dialogue ⠀ 、 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ ji yohan ⠀ ❫#* ⠀ 🍒 ⠀ ╱ ⠀ dynamic ⠀ 、 ⠀ ❪ ⠀ yohan & seungwon ⠀ ❫#smileflowcr#ayer me fui a dormir luego de soltar la bomba pero te estaba stalkeando(?)#dios seungwon como se te va a hacer agua la cola de esta forma(????)#dfjkldsdñsds my man tiene sus pensamientos claros y decisivos#quiere ser choked(?)#t*
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Too sweet
John Egan X RedCross! Reader
Summary: When Y/n breaks up with Harry Crosby, Bucky goes to help her...
Warning: Asshole!Harry Crosby/+18/ smut/ riding/ unprotected sex/ p in v/ hickey/ swearing/ kissing/ alcohol/ use of Y/n
Word count: 2.7k
The band was playing as Y/n and Harry Crosby made their way into the room. It was a party for someone’s 25th mission. Y/n was excited to drink what the barman was going to propose, words on the street was that he was good with fruity drinks. It was something new for the base, they usually drank whiskey, rhum and coca cola. ‘’I’ve heard that he makes new drinks, fruitier than your usual whiskey’’ she joked, but Crosby was not laughing. He was growing tired of Y/n’s sunshine personality. He liked her, but he liked her body more. They were just having sex at first, to blow off some steam, but Y/n started to visit him, and Crosby didn’t have to balls to tell her that it was just sex.
‘’He doesn’t deserve her’’ John Egan said to his friend, Buck. ‘’I completely agree with you, he seems tired of her’’ he adds. Ever since she came on the base as a Red Cross volunteer, Bucky was in awe of her. She was so beautiful, and she had this confident attitude that attracted the Major. Bucky kept looking at her from across the room as Crosby dragged her in front of the bar. ‘’You should convince her to, y’a know, leave him’’ Rosie Rosenthal said, taking a sip of his drinks as he joined the conversation. Egan’s head turned to look at Rosie, questioning his motive, but still, John agreed with him. Helen joined the men, with her drink in the hand, she came next to Rosie. ‘’I heard that he’s the missionary king. Kinda boring if you want my opinion’’ she took a sip, smirking. Gale Cleven scoffed before looking at Y/n, the woman looked desperate for someone to save her.
She adjusted her dress, the one she wore for him. It was bright red, the buttons stopped in the middle of her breast, exposing cleavage, the dress stopped mid thigh. It was beautiful, Y/n thought she looked amazing in it; but when Harry Crosby saw her, he just said that she looked nice. It pained her, she put a lot of effort in her look to just be told that she looked nice. ‘’I’ll have a whiskey, neat’’ Crosby ordered. Y/n stuttered a little bit, she didn’t know what to say. She looked at the menu, filled with colorful drinks before choosing one with grenadine and gin. Helen came to her rescue, pulling her away from Crosby as Y/n grabbed her drink. ‘’I’m borrowing her’’ Helen said to Harry. She almost spilled her drink, but when she sat on the table, Helen looked at her. ‘’Him? Y/n you deserve better’’ she stated. ‘’We’re not official, and he’s really tired, his job is hard.’’ she excused him, again. Helen rolled her eyes, before looking at John Egan. ‘’By the look of things, you’ll never be official with him. He looks bored’’ she tries to reason her friend. Y/n fidgeted with her fingers, taking a sip of her drink. It was really tasty! ‘’It’s complicated, he’s still with Jean’’ Y/n whispered. Helen choked on her drink, almost spitting it. ‘’WHAT?!’’ she exclaimed; Y/n looked at the ground.
John Egan was looking at Y/n, that red dress suited her perfectly. She was breathtaking. When they heard Helen exclaim loudly, Buck and Rosie looked at each other. ‘’Holy shit’’ Rosie chuckled as he read Helen’s lips. ‘’What?’’ Bucky asked, looking at Rosie. ‘’If I understand correctly, he’s still with his wife’’ Rosie whispered. Bucky started to laugh. ‘’Harry Crosby, you son of a bitch’’ he mumbled, chuckling. Harry Crosby made his way into the crowd, looking for Y/n, when he got to her, he practically pulled her away from her chair. Y/n walked past Bucky, smiling to him as she was being dragged in the room.
‘’Another whiskey, neat please’’ he ordered the same thing. Y/n tried a lot of things, it was all good, she tried to convince Harry to try other things, but he was sticking with his whiskey neat. ‘’Croz, the Cosmopolitan is really good, I’m sure you’ll like – ‘’ Harry Crosby slammed his hand on the table, not to strong, but loud enough to make the woman flinch. ‘’Goddamnit, Y/n, for the last time. I don’t want to try your fruity drinks! God, how many times do I have to tell you?!’’ he said, aggressively. ‘’I, uh, I’’ she stuttered, in shock of what just happened. ‘’You and your sweet stuff. *scoff*, pathetic. Why can’t you just be like Jean, obedient and silent. No, I have to deal with your sweet and ‘I always see things in a positive way’ bullshit. Your just too sweet for me!’’ he spat. The waiter put his whiskey on the table. Y/n had enough, she took his glass and got up her seat. ‘’You know what? I’d like to see things for your point of view, but I can’t get my head so far up my ass. Fuck you Harry Crosby, we’re done. Go back to your wife, you must miss her after all!’’ she said as she threw his whiskey on him.
That’s my girl! That’s what John Egan thought when he saw Y/n throw whiskey on Harry Crosby. He had it coming for a while now. He was so proud of her; he had a huge grin on his face. ‘’Go after her’’ Helen suggested, and that’s what he did. He saw her going outside, so that’s where he went. ‘’Y/n, wait!’’ he called her out. She had pure anger running through her veins. But she knew that it wasn’t Crosby going after her. She turned around and saw him. ‘’Bucky, hi’’ she cleared her throat. ‘’Are you okay? I, uh, saw the scene’’ he scratched the back of his head. She replaced her hair, looking at Bucky. ‘’Yeah, he's such an asshole’’ she scoffed. John walked closer to her, she wasn’t crying, but she was angry at Crosby. ‘’You want to get out of here?’’ he asked her, she tilted her head in confusion. ‘’Where would we go?’’ she asked. ‘’Not out of the base, but out of this aera, where he could come out’’ he clarified. She nodded as John led her gently to his Jeep.
They entered the woman’s quarters, but they were empty, since everyone was at the party. ‘’By the way, you look astonishing in that dress.’’ He complimented her. Her cheeks grew red as she bit her bottom lip. ‘’Thank you, Bucky, I, uh, you look handsome too’’ she stuttered. ‘’Those drinks looked really good; I wished I tasted one’’ he said. Y/n smiled, truly happy. That’s all he had to do, was it so hard Harry? ‘’Yeah, they were’’ she whispers as she awkwardly looks around the room. ‘’Can I ask you a question?’’ he asked her. She nodded as she sat on her bed. ‘’Why were you with him?’’ he asks. Y/n smiles as she thinks. ‘’Honestly, I thought he was going to be nice and caring. But he wasn’t, and the sex was bad’’ she blurted out the last part, putting her hand in front of her mouth in shock. ‘’God, I’m sorry, please forget I said that’’ she chuckles nervously. ‘’Don’t worry, I already knew that Helen told me’’ he confessed.
They’ve been talking for a while now; nurses were starting to come back. ‘’You have to go; you’re not supposed to be here’’ Y/n signs. John got up, so did Y/n. ‘’I’m not ready for this night to be over’’ he confesses. She blushes as she looks at him. ‘’Me neither’’ she whispers. Bucky smirks as she takes her hand, leading her outside. They got up in his Jeep as they went inside Bucky’s quarters, since he was important on the base, he had his own room. It was in the building where everyone lived, but still, it gave him a little bit of privacy. ‘’Don’t worry about them’’ he whispered as she saw men on their bed. Some men were already sleeping, others were reading and the ones that looked at her were smiling, because they saw what happened with Crosby.
When they entered his room, she felt a weird sense of déjà vu. She’d been here, in this building multiple times with Crosby, but now, she felt like she was important. When she was here, they would have fast and boring sex, usually in missionary. After sex, Harry would fall asleep, he fell asleep around 3pm, leaving Y/n alone, bored and unsatisfied. ‘’What’s going on in your pretty head?’’ Bucky asked as he closed the door. ‘’Nothing, I’m happy to be here’’ she said, not too loudly. Bucky smiled; she was so beautiful. She got comfortable, taking her shoes off and taking a seat on his bed, where he joined her after taking off his jacket. He was a little bit nervous, only because she was so beautiful. ‘’What did Helen told you, y’a know, about the sex?’’ she asked, smiling. Bucky chuckled and looked at her in the eyes. ‘’That he was the missionary king, and it was boring’’ he explains. ‘’Yeah, uh, she’s right.’’ She laughed nervously. ‘’He was that bad?’’ he asked. Y/n nodded as she blushes. ‘’He was’’ she whispers.
The air in the small room felt hot and thick. They’ve been talking about sex for a while and Y/n was hot, the small room was not helping. ‘’Tell me something true’’ Y/n said. He let out a breath before finding the courage to say what he was about to say. ‘’I really want to kiss you right now’’ he breathed out. Her breath caught in her throat as she blinked and looked at him. ‘’Tell me something true, Y/n.’’ he said seductively. She didn’t even have to think twice. ‘’I really want you to kiss me’’ she breathed out. She looked at his eyes, then his lips and his eyes again. Their face was so close, the air in the room was so heavy. Bucky put his hands on her cheek before pressing his lips on hers. The kiss felt like sunrise, it felt so good. Harry Crosby wasn’t a good kisser, but John Egan was a really good kisser. They pulled away to catch their breaths. ‘’Please… Don’t stop’’ she whispered. ‘’I wasn’t planning on it’’ he smirked. Their lips crashed against the other again, this time, it was more intense. Bucky hands trailed down her body, he laid down on the bed, making Y/n got on his lap.
His hands were getting under her skirt, trailing on her thighs, getting closer to her panties. ‘’That red dress is driving me crazy’’ he mumbled against her lips. Her hips grinned against his lap, she felt him growing hard under her. ‘’At least, someone found it hot’’ she chuckled. ‘’Yeah, more than hot – ‘’ his hips buckled, making her feel his boner. ‘’- Feel that? That’s what that dress does to me’’ he smirked. ‘’Just a dress? It doesn’t take you much’’ she giggles. He scoffed before kissing her neck. ‘’Yeah, just that. You looked like a goddess’’ he sucked the skin on her neck, making a mark. She was out of breath, she wasn’t used to this much foreplay, she felt a little dizzy, but it was in the best way possible. His hands were still on her thighs, playing with her panties, taunting her a little bit. But, even if she loved what was happening, she was frustrated, she needed Bucky right now. ‘’Major, I need you. I love the foreplay and stuff, but please; I need you’’ she breathed out. He smirked as he reached her panties. ‘’Whatever you want, darling’’ he said as he took her panties off. Her hands reached his belt, she unbuckled it as she eagerly watched him. ‘’As long as I love this dress, I want to see you’’ he said, unbuttoning her dress. ‘’Then, let me see you’’ she replied, looking at him.
They quickly undressed before going in the same position they were in before. She was naked, on top of him, Bucky was also naked. She was soaking wet, she wasn’t used to this much attention, so it turned her on a lot. ‘’Ride me, sweetheart, c’mon’’ he encouraged her. She sunk down on him, her breath caught in her throat because of the size of his length. ‘’Holy shit’’ she moaned. ‘’Breath, Y/n, take your, shit, take your time’’ he mumbled. His head was thrown back, she was really tight and felt heavenly. She began grinding on him, slowly, to make sure that it didn’t hurt. ‘’Atta girl’’ he breathed out. As she familiarized herself with his size, Y/n began to move a little faster. Bucky’s hand went on her hips, he wanted to guide her. But she was going to the pace that he was looking for. ‘’You’re so big…’’ she moaned as she leaned to kiss him. He chuckled before kissing her. When she felt one of his hands on her breast, she moaned inside his mouth. He played with her tit, teasing her nipple; he loved watching her body react to him, it felt good, seeing the effect he had on her.
The heavy breathing coming out of their mouth was erotic, the fact that they had to keep quiet was pure torture. As they came closer to their orgasm, it was more difficult to keep quiet. She felt a not in her stomach, her climax was close, but a small part of herself didn’t want it to be over, she was truly enjoying it. ‘’I’m close’’ she managed to whisper. ‘’Me too, cum with me’’ he pleaded. She tried to hold her orgasm, but it was hard. Her thighs were shaking. ‘’Bucky, I need too – ‘’ ‘’Cum, now’’ he ordered. They both reached their climax at the same time, they tried to keep quiet, but the pleasure was too much. Bucky sucked her neck again to keep quiet, marking her again.
Bucky and Y/n had to take a moment to recover from what just happened, it was truly amazing, they couldn’t believe it. ‘’Thank you for this amazing sex’’ she breathed out, smiling. ‘’You’re welcome, and I agree, it was amazing’’ he smiled. She decided to sleep here, postponing her walk of shame tomorrow. She put on one of his shirts as she laid beside him. She felt happy, her stomach had butterflies. When she fell asleep, she didn’t even think about Harry Crosby, she thought about John Egan.
A knock on the door woke them up, it was potentially someone telling Bucky that he was flying today, but when she opened the door, Y/n was surprised to see Harry Crosby. When he saw her, his mouth slightly opened. ‘’Y/n, what are you doing in Bucky’s room?’’ he asked. Bucky walked behind Y/n, she felt like she had a scary dog privilege. ‘’What do you want, Croz?’’ Bucky asked. ‘’You, uh, you’re needed, the, uh, Colonel wants to see you’’ he stuttered, seeing the marks in Y/n’s neck. She looked at her watch, it was almost time for her shift. ‘’Shoot I gotta go, see y’a’’ she kissed Bucky’s neck as she put her dress on, not bothering to button it since she was going to change. Crosby had his jaw on the floor, it wasn’t a walk of shame, it was a walk of power.
She was sitting on a table; it was her break. She’d been giving out coffee for hours, she didn’t want a boring black coffee, she wanted a good coffee, with milk and sugar, sadly milk and sugar was for Majors. ‘’Is there anyone sitting here?’’ Harry Crosby asked, with two cups of coffee in his hands. She didn’t want to talk to him, but he sat down on the table anyway. He pushed one cup in front of her: black coffee. Y/n looked at the cup, then slowly rose her head to look a Crosby. ‘’What do you want?’’ she asked. ‘’I’m so sorry for yesterday, I didn’t know – ‘’ she cut him off with her hand. ‘’Crosby, you came here to get me back?’’ she asked, with a hint of disgust. He nodded. ‘’I don’t want to hear it, you humiliated me, told me I was boring, and you’re married!’’ at the same time, Bucky came to sit next to her, handing her a cup of coffee with milk and sugar. ‘’Milk and sugar, just how you like it’’ he smiled as he sat down. Bucky kissed her cheek before looking at Crosby. ‘’You said it yourself, Harry, I’m too sweet for you’’
#callum turner#callum turner x reader#callum turner imagine#master of the air#master of the air imagine#john egan x reader#major john egan#john egan#gale buck cleven#harry crosby#rosie rosenthal#Spotify
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Exchanging Pleasantries / Cooper Howard Imagine
Request: Could you please do hurt/comfort with The Ghoul? Like, maybe you got hurt during a fight with Raiders and he's being mean while stitching you up. Thanks pookie bookie ily
Omg bb @itsyellow ily too I couldn't wait to write this!! Hit me with that hurt/comfort that's my jam son
Also did I make this full of unresolved sexual tension? Frick yeah I did
As always, if you enjoyed please drop a comment to help me out and let me know!
Warning: slightly NSFW/ making out, mentions of injury and violence, slight mention of a choking kink? and some strong language!
(I do not own Fallout or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)
☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°
'Y'know, you may be one of the stupidest goddamn people left on this planet. And I've seen a hell of a lotta stupid people.'
You know better to think that the one and only Ghoul: the slinking shadow that steadily tails and entraps every inch of the starkly barren world he can reach, the infamous bounty feared in every town, from Philly to Rivet City, would be one for pleasantries. Yet, even during your brief period travelling with the man across the wake of the formerly 'glorious' West-coast America, his callousness often left you wishing for the sweet silence of a Nuclear Winter.
Even Cooper Howard himself recognises the fact that he doesn't exactly, well, radiate off anything that could be called close to a succouring nature. Hell, he would be happy to radiate off anything that wouldn't have you spending his valuable time making detours to wandering doctors holed up in blood-splattered tents to use his hard-earned money in bartering for caps off your next bottle of Rad-X. He supposes, as you had shaken the bottle in front of his frowning face and wandered back off into the crowning desert sun, that if he could work himself back up to being unenthused, he would be able to count it as his first win in over two hundred years.
'Well, if you tried to stop fighting every single person still left out here I wouldn't have to risk my ass stupidly running in to save you', you retort, gnashing your teeth and trying your best not to squirm against his chest as he rips a fragment of broken plate from the back of your shoulder.
It wasn't often that you were allowed to light a fire in the wilds of the Wasteland: far too many radroach nibble bites littered your legs, far too many gash-covered tentacles slashes from the repulsive Centaurs marked your outer arms. However, as the two of you had spent your seemingly so lovely afternoon out on the highway being ambushed by a group of bloodthirsty Raiders, you had browbeaten the Ghoul into allowing the two of you such a special treat. An empty bottle of Nuka Cola lies by your faded makeshift floor covering that acts as your mattress, and you sigh in relief as the warmth of the flames licks across your tired arms.
Your soon drawn out of your repose by the feel of The Ghoul's cowboy boots thumping against either side of your legs; he awkwardly tries to leave enough room that he's not straddling your back, but his legs won't quite dip down enough to be more than halfway off the floor.
It leaves him having to scrape himself forward until his groin is nearly pressed against your tailbone, and you can feel the hem of his hat brush up your neck as he idly surveys the extent of your injuries. As he fidgets the strap of your vest down past the joint of your shoulder, you have to breathe in sharply to stop yourself grunting at the sharp scratch of his glove's rough seams as he drags his hand down.
'You're right', he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, dragging a strip of musty cloth out of his satchel bag and pressing it against your oozing wound. 'Your ass really is fucking stupid if you think that you were helpin'.' You grimace as a flash of stimulation and mortification flashes through your body; whether the pain in your gut is from the flesh wounds or from the clutch of thick leather as the Ghoul tantalisingly rakes his fingers up the tender skin of your shoulder and grips, you're too distracted to try and find out.
Sweeping your eyes over the fire-brushed ground that cracked and and crumbled underneath your heel, you can understand his frustration at you. At the world. Scorch marks litter the dusty ground around your make-shift campsite, the plasma rifles and energy weapons the Fiends had managed to barter, steal, and smuggle out from the Van Graffs stock lying in blasted pieces around the fragments of rusted metal once shielding the long gone diesel pumps. The violence - the anger, it always seemed never ending. Gosh, what you wouldn't give for a canopy right now: to stop the sun burns from blistering your face, to hide the sudden hush of shame and embarrassment that rose flush up your face like a mushroom cloud.
'Yeah, well, I did come running- you're welcome, by the way-', you start, but the Ghoul, as venomous a man as he is, cuts short your reply by prodding the point of one of the needles holding the tail edge of his coat together into the hanging flaps of your skin. Your hand balls into a fist as you feel the sharp tip scrape over muscle; you try your best not to whimper as his poison slits through your veins and slithers down to corrode your very soul, but the relief. Oh, god, corruption has never felt so good as the Ghoul's free hand sliding down to cup your ribcage. His middle and ring finger took turns tapping against your waist, a slight huff coming from his mouth and tingling against the shell of your ear.
At first, you think the Ghoul is mad at you: pissed off that if any of the Raiders had survived and scampered off back to their chem-den to frenziedly retell their confrontation with a certain duster-clad gunslinger, a certain ruthless reputation - a certain long upheld persona, would be tarnished. That he was aggravated in having to waste his dwindling supply of bullets in wasting the spiky-hair fiend that had sprung out from the door of the thought abandoned Red Rocket Truck Stop just as you were busy body slamming his friend to the ground. That he was embittered at the fact that you had the incredibly anserine idea to stop off in the middle of goddamn nowhere: somewhere straight off your Pip-Boy map to nestle down for the night on your route to the New Vegas strip.
Enraged, indeed, by the fact that he may have to admit that he wanted to save your life.
'You call that running?', he puffs out a chuckle, unceremoniously wiping the blood of the needle by using the back of your vest. 'I call that leaping up yonder head over ass across that Nuka-Cola machine.' He lets go of your side, much to your disappoint, and looks at you disapprovingly as you turn around to face him. He's waving the syringe edge of a stimpak in your general direction, and you make sure to slap his hand extra hard as you grab it off him.
'You know, cowboy, you were the one that asked me to tag along. Not the other way round', you groan in exhilaration as you stab the needle into the knife wound on your thigh, and that first hit of the Stimpak courses through your muscle. Cooper has to clench his fingers into the leather of his fist to stop himself from going feral right there and then. He sniffs loudly, scrunching up his nose and casting his gaze to the fireside to try and hide his displeasure.
'Well', he manages to choke out between clenched teeth, gripping onto his own leg so harshly he wonders if he's drawn blood between his claws, 'you are such delightful company.'
For the first time in his life, Cooper Howard wants to just... ride away from his problems. That's all you were supposed to be: a solution. A resource. Another object to exploit, to foist upon his own callous needs so that he may survive another day in this merciless hell pit. A life for a hundred and fifty vials felt like a mighty fair trade in the disintegrating shit-show of post-apocalyptic commerce.
It had been easier that way, luring you away from the only small shack left among the rubble of the underground Subway Station that the Fiends hadn't left splattered with blotted rivers of crimson and half-mangled body parts. It had been so much simpler, as he had shoved the still fresh bodies of the murderers and cannibals off the side of the Metro escalator, that he was here to save you. That he had no knowledge of the bounty held over your head by the Enclave, or of the reasons that you had become so... acquainted with the New California Republic during your month long travels for the Crimson Caravan Company. As the door had groaned open, he was left pointing his pistol in your face: a towering penumbra, larger than life, that seemed to swallow every inch of swinging lamplight around your doorway in a veiled sinfulness. He had found it so much easier, as he peered down at your gloomy face and smirked as the unmistakable sound of a Ripper reared closer to his head, that he was here to be your saviour.
That's right. As he had offered you protection: a safe route away, a constant presence, your second shadow on your journey back to the Strip for only a measly few caps, he had found it so much easier to pretend that this wasn't personal. That the way you shook his hand hadn't made his skin prickle, hadn't been the first thing his nerves had alighted at since the last fading memory he had of caressing his wife. That the way you had strapped your leather armour pauldron around your left shoulder, and pulled up the hem of your trouser leg to strap a hidden knife to your calf didn't have him unconsciously dragging his tongue along the cracks of his bottom lip, and left him staring in bemusement. The incredulousness that had his eyes glazing over and the bottom of his stomach clenching as the two of you pried open the doors back up to the surface, and he had nonchalantly inquired as to who had... disposed of the Fiends before his arrival here. You had just shrugged, throwing a smirk at him from behind your shoulder, and he couldn't help but feel his own mouth twitch up to mirror your reaction.
It had been so, so much easier to pretend that you were just another bounty. That you were the first person, since he had lost Janey in another life, that had made him feel something other than contempt. Or worse, nihility. Nothingness. Just a hodgepodge script of fabricated and fictional lines that he reeled off as if it were more than just second-nature; an amalgamation of everything hollow and horrid that he had spent so much of his long-lost life trying desperately to bury.
But Cooper knew better than anyone, that nothing, and no one, could stay buried forever.
And with every returned smile: every lingering brush of some Caravan Trader's fingers on your arm as they tried to sell you some over-priced snake oil, every repulsive simper of a NCR trooper as they tried to buy you a bottle of vodka during your rare stops at some remote barrack, had the rot he had constructed within his soul become that little bit more mutilating.
The silence between you is deafening. And so you do something really stupid: you decide to ask him about his dirt-stained outfit.
'So', you drawl, turning yourself around so your legs are crossed out by your side, doing your best to stay firmly seated between the tensing muscles of the Ghoul's thick thighs. He draws his spurs in a line across the sand, but to your astonishment, and wild delight, he doesn't pull his legs open any further. 'Did you rob a real cowboy or something? I didn't think they were real. The only ones we ever saw were those rugged, way too contrived looking ones on those old movies.'
Your fingers curl over the edges of his collar, tentatively letting your fingers drop to rest against the sharp gap against his breastbone.
A muscle in Cooper's jaw jumps.
Oh. Oh. You'd never seen him actually angry before, behind all that cowboy western shooter charade.
For a moment, you're worried you've offended him somehow; a faraway look seems to draw him into the pale billows that smoke up from the orange flames, and a look that you've never seen before- never could even contemplate drooping the face of the suddenly so haggard looking man sitting by your side flitted across his scrunching face.
Forlorn. He looked so forlorn.
Neither of you are sure if he's even conscious of his arm moving, snaking itself across the small of your back to clutch almost painfully against the meat of your hip. His thumb strokes against the outline of your bone: probing, testing, clawing and pinching as if he had repeated the action over and over and over again in his mind.
'This? This is as old as the dirt and the worms.'
He doesn't react, doesn't move the frozen stone of his stoic face when you hesitantly grip onto his fingers, and slowly... god, so slowly, pull his glove off and drop it on the ground. Suddenly feeling so exhausted, your droop your head down against the dried sweat on your neck and watch yourself place your hand gingerly over his own, holding him in a wary vice against your side.
'What... what's a worm', you tentatively ask, your eyes wide open in worry that your question might break the provisionary affinity of this moment.
Cooper actually... snorts, a smirk threatening to break across his face as he looks out of the corner of his eye at you. 'An 'ol creature that used to live under the soil.' His eyes burn a hole into your irises, and he finally cracks out in a sallow grin as he contemplates the fact that he has your whole, enraptured attention. 'In fact, almost a whole lot like you.'
You smack his shoulder, but he only tilts his head back with an inquisitive gloat on his lips. He tips his head down, moving his other free hand to grab and squeeze the other side of your waist, making you woefully buck back against the bottom button of his shirt as the pit of your bottom begins to thrum with a devastating heat.
'Now', you can hear the teasing in his voice as he dips his spine down to hover over the shell of your ear. 'The real question is, where in the sweet hell would you have seen such heinous films such as those?'
His hand crawls like sweet spiderwebs across to your bellybutton, taking your breath away as he cups his palm against your skin and carts you back till your resting against the side of his chin, entangling you against the last vestige of the man he's entombed within the Stygian shadows.
'My ma used to show them to me and my brother if we had been extra good. She spent a whole three months saving up whatever metal scraps she could scavenge to go trade over at the General Store in Goodsprings and buy ourselves a real life television. The picture was blurry as shit, and we only had one holotape that I swear I ended up being able to quote back to front by the time I was sick of watching it. But hell, if we didn't crowd around the floor in wonder and dream about being a mysterious, rifle swinging stranger that roamed around the wastes saving people.'
Cooper purses his lips, swallowing thickly as he lassos your words in a whirlwind around his mind. After what seems like an eternity of listening to the soft whistle blow through the cartilage of his nose, of noting the quiet scurry of Bark Scorpions barbing through the pale tufts of faraway brushes, and the sound of your own heart hammering against your ribcage, each hit cracking your ribcage open with a sledgehammer, Cooper grumbles a reply.
'Y'know, there's an old saying back where I'm from - one that those folks in those movies you... respected use' to say. Feo, fuerte y formal. It means you're ugly, strong, and dignified. And shit, I can say for sure that you've got ugly ticked off that list.'
'You cheeky shit-', you start, but you can't help but shove your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. With a jolt forward over your stomach, you wince at the pain that flashes through your body at your only recently closed wounds. The Ghoul snarkily utters a tut tut, making you actually fucking whimper aloud this time when his hands grab your love handles, lifts you up, and slaps you down atop his lap. A faint slip from the curve of your buttocks sliding down to settle against his inner thigh has him hissing against the back of your head.
Even though there was no chance of it ever occurring, the Ghoul loosely clenched his fingers around your throat and tilted your head back until your throat went dry, as if daring you to move away from him again.
'Ain't your fault darlin'', he twangs out in that hoarse voice of his, his tongue flicking as smooth as molasses against the shell of your ear: his pointed edge darting a sticky trail up to your inner ear. 'It ain't your fault that you look like a molerat.'
You snort, and Cooper finds himself smiling at the sound of a noise he hasn't heard since his daughter was... since his daughter was...
'You remind me of someone I used to know, you know that? She was... she was far too sweet. Far too good for all this shit too.'
'Aha, there he is.' You wrestle out of his grasp and turn your head disbelievingly. The Ghoul looks almost taken aback, before he draws back into himself and fixes himself to stare you down. 'Finally making an appearance after all this time, are we? Good to see I'm finally getting through to you.'
'Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?', he bares his teeth, gnashing them together almost instinctively.
'I mean, I think that was as close to an honest exchange with the man inside you I'm ever going to have.'
That makes him start.
Pensively, he watches you, assessing and appraising the quirks and emotions that wander across your face as he waits for you to finish your accusation.
'And unless you stop sticking your blaster in the face of every creature that walks and talks, probably your last as well.'
The Ghoul swallows thickly, doing his best to seem as straight laced as usual, but growing more and more discourteous in his manner by the almost sinful way he's darting your eyes down to your lips and allowing them to hover there. 'Now darlin', I'm only exchanging pleasantries.'
'Is that really what you'd call yourself? And here I thought it was cantankerous.'
'Considering the literal crap-hole you grew up in I'm surprised you even know that word, now.'
'The sewers are empty, Cowboy - I'd say there's more piss on you from Dogmeat than down there. Besides, I lived in a Subway Station... asshole', you spit out at your feet, hitting the fragmented remains of one of your assailants helmet spikes.
A jab pokes at your inner thigh; the clenched thumb of the Ghoul branding into your skin as he finally looks you dead in the eyes with a cold stare. 'And there you are.'
And yet there's something. There's something lingering there, in the dark. In the swirl of his irises. In the only part of his body that still remains fully intact. Fully him. Something valorous. A convolution of steadfastness and pride. An imploringness.
'Suppose...', you inhale sharply, not realising that the two of you have managed to claw and scrape and crawl inch by inch closer to each other during your... showdown. 'Suppose', you buck your knees forward until you have enough leverage to haunch yourself up and turn, using the exertion to swivel yourself round and straddle the Ghoul's legs. Your gaze dips down to watch the purse of his strangled lips, his head slowly raising itself to unmask itself from the murk. 'That we aren't so different after all.'
Before you have time to regret your words, the stout pressure of clashing thumbs and fingers have jerked against your chin and pulled you down to smash against Cooper's mouth. Gnashing teeth pull at your bottom lip without a moment's warning, slicing down to draw blood. Cooper pulls back to snarl, before diving back in and licking away the thin trail of blood driplets that dribble down your chin dimple with the flat edge of his impoverished tongue.
Your chest rises and falls in quick succession as the man leaning his weight eagerly against your stomach ravishes you, growling as he reaches down to pull at the bottom of your thighs, and raise your knees up so he can cup your ass and knead the sweet flesh.
Part of you wants to rip his clothes off him right there and then, part of the recesses of your mind worries about the impending danger of the Wastelands: a roaming gang of looters, the unlucky shimmer that forewarns the arrival of a Nightstalker, but all of you wants to slam your hands around the side of this man's face and knock him straight to the ground with the ferocity of your kiss.
Before you can even make it past the squishing his cheeks phase, you’re distracted from your plan by the pressure point of his fingers teasingly prodding against the outline of your inseam. You can't enact your plan - you can't, not when you can feel the tip of his finger run slowly... slowly... god! So agonisingly slowly up your inner thigh. Can feel the warm, almost ruinating nibble of his top teeth against the pulse point of your neck, before he leaves an apologetic slide of his inner lip against it: something bright and burning and beautiful making the nerves of his body scream as it gnaws away at their rot.
Perhaps, perhaps there was still time for the Ghoul to exhume the mouldering remains of Cooper Howard after all.
#fallout#cooper howard#the ghoul#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard imagine#the ghoul imagine#the ghoul x reader#fallout imagine#fallout show#cooper fallout#cooper fallout imagine#cooper fallout x reader#fr though why are there so many plates in this game
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Luke Castellan x Daughter of Dionysus reader? The show version of Dionysus was funny and I just want to know how the whole interactions would go
i loved this request, thanks sm for sending it in!! i actually haven't watched the show, so if this is inaccurate i'm v sorry </3
warnings: mentions of eating and drinking (no alcohol), fem!reader, established relationship, mild PDA, nickname
luke castellan masterlist
Your boyfriend lovingly nuzzles his nose into your temple from where he's sitting next to you. “Your dad is giving me looks,” he whispers. Your lips pull upwards at Luke’s antics, rolling your eyes and looking over at your father at where he’s sitting next to Chiron. He’s trying to be subtle, you’ll give him that, but there’s nothing implicit about the way he’s eyeing your boyfriend in an attempt at being suavely menacing. With his leopard- print shirt, pot belly and an aluminium Coca- Cola can he’s gripping so hard it’s beginning to crumple, it’s not working.
You take a bite into your wrap. “He is.”
“He’s scaring me.”
This elicits a snort from you, choking slightly on a cucumber chunk. “Luke Castellan, one of the most intimidating campers at Camp Half- Blood, is scared of my dad? The god of wine?”
Luke whines in protest through a sip of water. “Yeah, the god of wine. Imagine, if, like, he got drunk and… I don’t know, whacked me around the head with a baseball bat.”
You snort. “What? Babe, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know your name.”
Your boyfriend pouts. “That makes me feel so much better.”
“Baby.” Luke rolls his eyes playfully, relishing in the banter the two of you have managed to maintain throughout your relationship. But his momentary glee is cut short when he realises Dionysus has risen from the table, disposing of his empty can and making his way over to where the two of you are sitting. Panicked, he nudges you.
“He’s coming,” Luke indiscreetly whisper- screams, as if you hadn’t noticed already.
“Relax, nothing’s gonna happen,” you murmur back. You were sure of it. Mostly.
“Luis,” your father greets, suddenly next to the two of you. Luke swallows, afraid to correct him. You’re milliseconds from letting out a laugh aloud.
“Dad, it’s Luke.”
His eyebrows furrow. “Yes. Lucas. That’s what I said.”
You can’t help but purse your lips, both from suppressing an entertained chortle and half in contempt for your father’s annoying penchant of feinting at carelessness for every camper who wasn’t you. Honestly, you were surprised he didn’t give you the same treatment sometimes.
“Well, Lucas, it has come to my attention you are dating my daughter.” He nods towards you; you cringe. If he was about to give Luke the ‘take care of my daughter or else’ talk, you were going to run away and never come back.
Luke nods, gulping. “Yes. Sir.”
Trying to save him and yourself from embarrassment, you intervene. “Dad. Please.”
“Oh no, no,” he insists. “I just wanted to have a quick word and say that… the two of you look quite happy. And I’m proud of the two of you.” He turns to the shell- shocked boy beside you. “But I have to mention, young man, if anything changes-”
“Okay dad!” You shoot him a ‘please stop’ look disguised in a beaming grin which he’s on the receiving end of too many times to be oblivious to. “Thank you! You can go now!”
Finally, he wanders off again, muttering under his breath. You catch little of it, something about how ‘teenagers nowadays’ and ‘so ungrateful’.
You turn to Luke; he’s already looking at you with an incredulous look on his face. “What… just happened?”
Like a ticking time bomb, your laughter finally escapes, Luke quickly joining you.
Dionysus looks on, back in his seat next to Chiron, hiding a satisfied smile behind a glass bottle of Coke.
taglist: @doyouknowwhoyouare13 @explosiongamora @brutal-out-here @absolutely-existing @quickslvxrr @bibliophile-dendrophile
READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.
#inbox#asks#luke castellan#luke#pjo tv show#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x yn#luke castellan x you#luke castellan imagine#luke castellan drabble#luke castellan fic#luke castellan fanfic#luke castellan one shot#luke castellan oneshot#luke castellan fluff#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#pjo fanfic#pjo x reader#pjo x you#luke castellan x fem!reader#luke castellan x gn!reader
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Date with a Rockstar
rockstar!Frankie Morales x f!Reader
Part 1 of Sex, Drugs and Rock’n’Roll Series
Summary: Frankie finally manages to invite you for a drink. Unfortunately, things go wrong and he ends up in jail. Warnings: +18, MDNI, protected PIV (implant), pussy eating (no one’s surprised, king will always be king), semi-public sex, car sex (on top! woah), creampie, soft!dom!Frankie, fight, blood, being arrested, mention of attempted rape, use of date rape drug (not by our sweet boy duh) Wordcount: 6,5k An: Without lying to anyone, I have to admit that Frankie is my personal favorite. He's just so gentle and sweet ughhh where's my Frankie :’( Anyway, I hope you like this version of him bc I really enjoyed this one! Music I worked with: Arabella - Arctic Monkeys
Masterlist
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. Today you tried harder than usual. You were desperate to finally catch attention of the sexy bassist, who kept sending you glances.
You were desperate enough to put on one of the shortest dresses you had in your closet. You were desperate enough to put on lipstick that had been lying forgotten in your bag for months. You were desperate enough, that your gaze pierced through even your own reflection.
You looked good.
More than just good. You looked sexy.
Sexy enough that when you walked towards the bar, everyone gave you a slightly too long looks. It was a good feeling. Every glance, tickled your ego more and more, making you feel confident.
The clatter of your heels was your only anchor the moment you entered the crowded bar, and the melancholic aura hit all your senses at a dizzying pace. You had already gotten used to the atmosphere that reigned here. The stuffiness, loud music and barely functioning lighting. With time, you could even admit that you liked being here. It was a nice break from your rigid reality.
Here, no one knew you. None of your friends even knew about this place. No wonder, you came here especially from the other end of town.
You came especially for him.
A slightly withdrawn, sweet bassist with big puppy eyes, who played with his band every Thursday.
You immediately headed towards the bar, glancing at the band that was currently entertaining the small crowd. You winced at the squeaky voice of the vocalist and quickly moved to the other end of the room.
The bartender gave you a quick glance, smiling immediately when he saw the familiar face. You smiled back and, avoiding a collision with the slightly tipsy guy, stood at the bar, leaning against the counter.
“I thought I wouldn’t see you here today,” he asked casually, preparing a drink at the same time. You shrugged, watching as he skillfully mixed everything in the shaker.
Al, because that was his name, was the only one who kept you company during your weekly visits. You could say that you became somewhat friends. He was nice, funny and scared away the pests that sometimes hung around you.
“I thought you got to know me a little by now, Al,” you teased with a smirk. You both focused your attention on the drink he handed to some woman, after which he began pouring beer into two mugs.
“Oh yeah,” he snorted in amusement. “You couldn’t miss your Romeo’s concert,” he began, teasing you. You laughed, shaking your head and glanced towards the stage before focusing your attention on him again.
“Quite a lot of traffic,” you said to start a casual conversation. The man immediately perked up, snorting under his breath and mumbling a quiet ‘yeah’ before handing you a glass of cola. He had learned that trying to talk you into a drink never brought the desired result. You thanked him quietly and took a sip.
"They've been coming here like pigs to a barn since morning." You snorted, almost spitting out your drink, starting to choke, to which he just gave you an amused look. "It's Thursday, for fuck's sake. People don't go to work on Fridays or something?" he continued, serving another customer.
He gave a forced smile to the girl who gave him the tip, winking flirtatiously. All she had to do was turn her back to him, and he immediately rolled his eyes in boredom. He looked at you tiredly and finally had a moment to breathe. He reached for the drink hidden under the counter and took a large sip with relief. "These cunts have been after me since morning, too," he muttered, looking around the room.
"Oh stop it, they're just nice."
"Horny," he corrected you, raising his eyebrows when he returned his gaze to you. You nodded, taking another sip.
"True," you said, "but you can't blame them. You don't look like you're on the other side of the force," you explained, pointing at him with your hand. He looked at you with amusement and then snorted.
"Is that what it's called now? The other side of the force?" he asked, pushing himself away from the counter. “God, I really am getting old,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a wide smile, and began serving the next customer.
You turned around, leaning your back against the counter and began to watch the people dancing. It amused you that some people could dance to such crappy music. No offense, the new band that had been playing here for a week just sucked really bad.
"They're bad, aren't they?" A male voice rang out from near you.
You glanced to the side and almost had a heart attack when you saw the man you came here for. Your heart started beating so fast that you almost choked on air.
He was standing, leaning against the counter, maybe a meter away from you, watching the band with the same amusement as you had just a moment ago.
A mug of beer occupied his hand as his fingers slowly ran over the wet glass. You swallowed hard, observing his profile. Slightly disheveled hair under a baseball cap, an aquiline nose and a strong jaw covered with stubble.
Fuck, he was so damn handsome.
Your silence made him look at you and he slowly took a drink of beer. Dark eyes shone like two lanterns in the middle of the ocean. But they couldn't save you from drowning in his gaze. He licked his lips from the hop aftertaste and took a step towards you. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible because you had the impression that you started to pant at the sight of the sweet smile that appeared on his lips.
"Frankie Morales," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.
"I know."
Silence fell between you.
You stared at him, not even being aware of what you had just said. Only when he raised an eyebrow in amusement, gave you a sobering slap on the cheek. You closed your eyes, sighing in embarrassment at your behavior.
"I mean-" you started, wanting to somehow get out of the uncomfortable situation you had put yourself in. But his quiet laugh immediately made you fall silent, looking at him as if enchanted. He had a damn charming laugh.
"No, it's okay, I understand," he said, relaxing the whole atmosphere in a second.
Your stomach clenched pleasantly when you finally smiled gently and gave him your hand, introducing yourself. And maybe you were going crazy, but his hand held yours much longer than the situation required. Where he touched you, he left a trail of shivers that stirred your blood to such a state, that you immediately had to drink to cool yourself down.
Frankie leaned against the counter next to you, watching your every move, especially the way your lips formed against the glass, leaving a trace of lipstick behind.
"So..." he began slowly, deep down pleased by your reaction. "I see you here often. You come every Thursday, right?" he asked, wanting to start a conversation.
You nodded, setting the glass down and licking your wet lips. "Yeah."
His smirk only widened. He glanced at the bartender who was sending you not-so-subtle glances.
"I guess not to listen to them." He nodded towards the stage received an amused snort from you in response. He smiled, revealing his teeth as you looked at him with a furrowed brow and a sweet smile.
"No."
"I thought so," he laughed quietly and took a sip of his beer.
This was your chance.
You were finally talking to him.
You could finally show him that you were interested.
"Actually, I'm coming for your band," you said, looking towards the stage to calm the feeling of stress that was starting to grow unwanted in your chest.
"Yeah?" he asked, and for the first time, his gaze traveled down your body. He subtly lingered longer on your exposed thighs and he immediately felt saliva welling up in his mouth.
"Mhm," you hummed, nodding. You looked at him the moment he tore his gaze away from your body and felt a wave of heat as you realized you had his attention.
You knew your slutty dress would do the trick.
"Then you're missing out." You fell silent, staring at him incredulously. You mumbled a quiet, ‘huh’, as he took a sip of beer instead of immediately explaining what he meant. "We're much better at rehearsals."
"Rehearsals?" you frowned, still not understanding what he was talking about.
Did they have any rehearsals that you didn't know about? Did they play on different days? Al would have told you, right?
"Yeah, in the guys' garage, we get carried away more," he explained. But that only caused more confusion. Frankie saw it immediately and straightened up, quickly continuing.
There was no way he had become so hopeless at flirting.
"I mean," he snorted nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "That you should see it. If you're coming here for us, then you should witness a real show." He felt the stress starting to eat him up from the inside.
Why was he even nervous? He was good at it. He never had a problem with flirting.
The only problem was that this time his intention wasn't just to get you into bed.
"Sure," you smiled brightly, and a heavy weight immediately fell from his heart. He sighed with relief and whispered quietly, ‘cool’.
The sight of him like that, gave you a flock of butterflies in your stomach. He was just as stressed as you were, which gave you a strange sense of security. Suddenly it wasn't awkward anymore. You just stood there looking at each other with smiles, feeling the flow of warmth between your bodies.
“Shall I give you my number?” you suggested, raising an eyebrow as he continued to stand there without a word. Your question snapped him out of his suspended animation.
“Oh. Yes, please,” he nodded eagerly, to which you giggled quietly and looked away, searching for Al. Your attention focused on him, immediately drawing him like a magnet.
It wasn’t like he had been watching you from the very beginning, just waiting for some sign that you needed him.
“Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?” you asked, and you didn’t have to say anything more. He started rummaging under the counter and in a few seconds he put everything you asked for in front of you. You smiled gratefully, to which he winked at you and left.
“You’ve become friends in these two months,” Frankie noticed, watching you write down a series of numbers on a small, pink piece of paper.
“Yes, he’s a sweetheart,” you nodded, writing down the last two numbers, but before you lifted the pen from the paper, you felt waves of shivers. Two months.
He knew since you started coming here. He’d been watching you from the very beginning.
Your heart sped up as, without giving anything away, you folded the piece of paper and held it out to him.
“Thanks.” He smiled and took the note, deliberately touching your fingers. Such a small gesture caused a powerful wave of electricity that went straight between your thighs. You held back a moan and sighed quietly instead.
Applause echoed through the bar, so you both looked towards the stage, where the band was just leaving. You both knew what that meant.
“Hey, listen…” Frankie began, feeling a surge of adrenaline. He had to hurry to get to the stage on time. “Would you like to grab a drink after our set?” he asked much more confidently.
“With you?” You smiled wider, feeling like you had won the lottery. Your reaction was everything he could have wanted.
“Yeah I…” he trailed off and glanced towards the stage, where his friends were starting to line up. Pope’s gaze met his, signaling him to hurry up. “You know… I don’t really like sharing,” he finished, glancing at your smiling face. You looked cute. He regretted that he had no time to talk to you longer, but he sincerely hoped that everything would go his way and he could enjoy you later. And your gaze clearly told him that you would gladly let him enjoy you, not just over a drink.
“Okay,” you nodded, biting your lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. And it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by his dick.
Fuck, he regretted that he had to go on stage right now.
“Okay,” he repeated, holding your gaze until the sound of a microphone being set up echoed through the room. “I have to go,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious enough for both of you.
You laughed sweetly at the energy that bubbling inside him. “Okay,” you nodded again.
“Okay,” he replied with a smile, starting to walk backwards towards the stage. You watched with amusement as people moved out of his way so he wouldn’t step on them, until he disappeared into the crowd, only to jump on stage a moment later. You snorted at the sight and took a sip of your cola.
“I thought he’d never dare to approach you,” Al said from behind you. You looked at him with a satisfied smile.
“The dress worked,” was all you said before the sound of guitar and drums echoed through the bar.
The concert had been going on for an hour, gathering more and more people under the stage. The later hour meant more and more customers. Al was busy, fulfilling several orders at once, so you were forced into the company of some guy who wouldn't leave you alone. Bored, you listened as he talked about his vacation in Asia, glancing at Frankie every now and then.
You saw the sweat glistening on his forehead as he watched his fingers play the strings. Every now and then his gaze would meet yours, and the smile he gave you would make you feel warmer and warmer. Only because of that, were you able to endure the company of a self-absorbed idiot, who thought that talking about how rich he was would somehow impress you. You were allergic to poseurs, and he was like a living example from the textbook „HOW TO AVOID LOSERS”.
Frankie had just started playing a solo, so you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to. The voice of the man next to you stopped reaching your ears the moment the sounds of the bass guitar cut through the space.
You loved watching how devoted Frankie played. You could watch him for hours. Just like he could you.
That's what he did.
And that's why his heart beat faster when he saw something and that probably saved your life.
His smile disappeared and his fingers stopped plucking the strings. You frowned at his strange behavior. He looked in your direction, but his gaze was absent. But you quickly got answers to your unasked questions.
Frankie handed the guitar to Pope, not even looking to see if he aimed for his hand. People squealed in surprise when he jumped off the stage and began pushing through the crowd. Your heart beat faster when you saw him walking towards you. But his gaze was... different. He was furious. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden wave of stress.
He was furious.
But why would he-
Then everything happened too fast for you to react.
Frankie walked past without even looking at you and clenched his fists on the guy's shirt. You jumped on the spot as he pulled him towards himself and threw him to the ground. The poser, whose name you couldn't even remember, was in as much shock as you were, so he didn't even have time to start defending himself as Frankie sat on him, pinning him to the ground with his weight. And then the first punch fell.
His fist connected with the guy's cheek, making him groan in pain. You covered your mouth with your hand, looking at everything in shock, and jumped on the spot as another punch split his lip and his blood appeared on the floor. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Frankie ruthlessly deliver punch after punch. The guy underneath him, groaning in pain, spitting out another portion of blood. People gathered around, watching the spectacle, having a great time.
And you were terrified. You were shaking inside, paralyzed with fear.
Another punch.
His fist was bloody and furiously red from the force with which he punched his opponent's face. And when you gathered the courage to speak up and try to stop it all, his snarl froze you.
"She wasn't interested so you decided to rape her?"
You immediately looked at your glass and noticed in shock that at the bottom, there was something that was slowly dissolving. Cold sweat poured over your body as you realized what you were the victim of.
A rape pill.
"Fuckin’ son of a bitch," Frankie growled, and when you looked at him again, you saw him wiping blood from his lip, which was now cut. The almost unconscious guy had somehow managed to land one punch. But that was all he did.
It was his face that was all blue and bloody. He was the one lying there, barely breathing.
“Frankie,” you whispered in a trembling voice. And despite the chaos around you, he heard you without a problem. He looked at you, breathing heavily, his fist stopped halfway to deliver another punch.
The guy under him coughed, choking on blood, and suddenly three policemen appeared out of nowhere. People in a panic cleared a path for them to get to the very center of the action. And then Frankie was the one lying on the ground, crushed by a cop’s knee. He winced at the unnecessary force they used to overpower him, because he had surrendered without any resistance. Two policemen were collecting what was left of the beaten man from the ground, and the third was handcuffing Frankie. Only that sound tore you out of your stupor.
You watched as the policeman, not very gently, pulled him up and yanked him when he heard his groan of dissatisfaction. With your heart in your throat, you approached them. You were terrified by the whole situation and Frankie noticed it right away. He gave you a smirk and a wink to calm you down.
But that only made the policeman more nervous, so he jerked him again.
"You're happy by the fact that you kicked some guy's ass?" he growled with venom, to which he only smiled wider and licked the cut on his lip. His gaze didn't leave your eyes for a moment; big, shiny eyes that looked at him with confusion.
"I would have killed him if you hadn't stopped me," he replied confidently. You didn't want to believe it, but the seriousness with which he said it exerted the opposite emotions in you.
"We'll see if you're so brave at the police station." And he jerked him again, this time heading towards the exit of the bar.
"Where are you taking him?" you asked loudly, drawing the cop's attention. He glanced at you and his gaze raked down your body with disapproval. Son of a bitch. “I have a right to know, I’m his fiancée,” you added, lifting your chin higher.
Frankie looked at you with amusement and pride. You were so damn sexy when you acted like that.
The cop looked skeptically from you to your fiancé and rolled his eyes. “State police,” he said casually and that was all you saw of him.
Frankie disappeared, and right after him, the whole band. They didn’t seem too bothered as they mumbled the words, ’we need to get him out again’. Again.
Then there were only formalities. You sat on a bar stool answering more questions from one of the policemen. The footage from the cameras and your statements gave the green light to a possible quick bailout of Frankie from custody.
You felt extremely guilty about what had happened, so when you heard the words, ’That’s it. If we have more questions, we’ll contact you’, you almost ran out of the bar.
You probably broke most of the traffic laws when you drove towards the state police station, but it was late, so the streets were almost empty. Luckily, you didn't kill anyone on the way and you made it in one piece.
Apart from your heart beating too fast and your thoughts racing, you were in quite great shape.
You got out of the car and ran towards the police station as fast as your heels would allow you. However, you quickly stopped halfway when you heard loud laughter, which after a moment became faces.
The whole band was just leaving the building, talking loudly with wide smiles on their faces. Everyone was in great spirits, including Frankie. He laughed like a child when he got another punch in the ribs and another warning that next time he'd be behind bars all night.
Pope noticed you first and his smile turned into a smirk as he looked at Frankie and whistled in appreciation.
"For a chick like this, even I would go to jail," he commented, which caught the attention of the rest of the men.
Everyone started looking around until they finally landed on you. Each of them looked down your body and Ben was the only one to nod with cessation, for which he got a punch in the stomach from his brother.
"What?" he groaned but in response he only got a warning look.
You tensed, feeling everyone's eyes on you but then Frankie looked over Ben's shoulder, your attention immediately focused only on him. Shock flew across his face at the sight of you but he quickly smiled and pushed through them. You noticed how everyone exchanged knowing glances with each other, then Tom patted him on the shoulder.
"We’ll leave you here," he said then smiled pleasantly in your direction. You watched as everyone started to walk away, with stupid smiles on their faces.
"Thanks guys!" Frankie shouted but didn't even look in their direction. Only you were able to see Pope wave at him, also not looking at him. You raised an eyebrow with a smile, watching this comical situation but when your gaze fell on the man in front of you again, you became a little more serious.
Stress clenched your stomach as all the events that had happened in such a short time started to come back to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat seeing him take a step towards you.
"I'm sorry for what happened," you blurted out in one breath, making him stop halfway into the next step. He frowned and only then did he notice how stressed you were.
"You have nothing to apologize to me for. It wasn't your fault that some motherfucker slipped some shit into your drink," he said seriously and you felt waves of cold shivers again. It was only when he said it, that it started to dawn on you how you could have ended up if it wasn't for him.
“You ended up in jail because of me,” you added, still feeling guilty.
Frankie snorted under his breath and spread his hands, looking around.
"As you can see, I'm not in it anymore," he noticed, which managed to make you smile a little.
Half the battle.
He slowly walked closer to you with a gentle smile and a tender look. Your heart began to beat faster when he stopped in front of you. Your gaze immediately fell on the cut on his lip and in a rush of something strange, you raised your hand and gently touched the small wound. Electricity passed under your fingertips from the contact with his heated skin.
"Then I apologize for this," you said and his lips formed a smile under your fingers. You immediately looked up at his eyes, which sparkled with amusement.
"I was only defending my fiancée." The tone he spoke with sent butterflies flying through your stomach. You snorted sweetly under your breath and looked down, causing his smile to widen.
With that one sentence, all the tension and stress melted away into thin air.
“Oh, right,” you nodded, more to yourself than to him, and pulled your fingers away from his lips. “Thank you,” you said politely, and then his hand closed around your wrist, trapping yours a few inches from his face. You inhaled louder, feeling his fingers grip your skin.
He gently but firmly pulled you closer, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You gave in to his movements, wanting to see where this was all leading.
"I guess that's not how you should thank your fiancé," he noted with a smirk and slowly put his arm around your waist and connected your bodies in one movement.
Your heart was pounding in your chest as if you had at least run a marathon. Standing in his arms, you couldn't focus on anything. Your gaze was so damn innocent that Frankie automatically hugged you a little tighter, wanting to protect you from everything around. But now the only thing he could protect you from, was himself.
"The policemen who are watching, are definitely not convinced by our love," he teased with a glint in his eye. You shivered, unconsciously digging your fingers into his neck and glanced towards the police station. You ran your gaze over all the windows, but it was dark everywhere.
“But no one’s looking,” you whispered, as if someone could hear you, and looked at him again. And you almost moaned when he leaned in a little closer to you.
“But someone’s could,” he whispered as well.
You immediately understood what was hidden behind his words and even though you tried, you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips.
"Right," you nodded and lifted your other hand, placing it on his cheek the moment he leaned down to connect your lips. You purred feeling his stubble tickle your skin and with a giggle you let his tongue connect with yours. He tasted so damn good and was so gentle that you quickly felt the arousal building between your thighs.
His hands slowly ran over your back and waist, which made you moan softly. And your moan made him sigh before he pressed you harder against his chest. His fingers dug pleasantly into your skin until your blood started to boil.
You slid your fingers into his locks that were tangled on his neck and gently ran your nails over his scalp. This time he moaned softly and deepened the kiss even more. His tongue was in perfect sync with yours, not even trying to dominate you for a moment. It was a completely new feeling and you had to admit, that you fuckin’ loved it.
“So what about that drink?” you asked when he pulled away from you for a moment to catch his breath. You bit your lip with a gentle smile and slowly ran your nails down the back of his neck and Frankie had to admit that he was already having trouble standing when his cock began to painfully dig into his jeans.
He pursed his lips, holding back a groan and nodded eagerly at your offer and he was able to hold out if you wanted to have a drink with him. He was able to wait until you gave him a sign that you wanted to go further.
But then you started walking towards your car, gyrating your hips in front of his face.
A quiet growl escaped his throat as he looked helplessly at the sky, mentally counting to ten to calm down. Only then did he look at you again and damn it, it didn’t work.
He quickly covered the distance between you, calling your name. You managed to unlock the car with the remote before you looked in his direction and his lips immediately attacked yours. You gasped in surprise but gave in without resistance as he forced his tongue into your mouth. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you against him as he slowly moved forward, pushing you back until you hit the hood of your car. When he pinned you with hips, his hands immediately found their way to your waist, his fingers gripping your flesh tightly. Another moan died in his mouth as you tried to return his kisses with the same fervor.
"I'm sorry," he sighed against your lips, sliding his hands down to your bare thighs and clenching them perfectly under your ass. You shivered, digging your nails into his shoulder. "I don't usually start like this," he said, trying to somehow excuse his behaviour, his lack of restraint, right outside the doors of the police station. You moaned into his mouth as he massaged your thighs intensely, getting closer and closer to their core.
"Me neither," you gasped and then both of you locked eyes.
And you both knew what a fucking bad idea had flown through your heads.
And both of you seemed completely unconcerned about the consequences the moment your lips connected again and his fingers hurriedly began to pull up your dress.
You were acting like stupid teenagers but suddenly it didn't matter. All that mattered now was that he was spreading your thighs with his knee so he could be even closer. And when his hips brushed against yours, you felt how hard he was, how much he wanted to get out of his tight pants because of you. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't leak at the thought of him entering you.
Frankie gasped, grinding against you once more before he pulled away, leaving you breathless. You moaned at the sudden feeling of losing his soft lips on yours, but it quickly passed the moment you saw him kneeling in front of you. You shivered at the sight of his head between your legs and whimpered impatiently. His warm breath fanned your pubic but his lips found their way to your hip. You closed your eyes and gasped at the pleasant waves of warmth that began to spread through your body, from every place he kissed.
He slid from hip to your thigh and his warm tongue combined with his scratching beard were already taking you to the heights of pleasure. Oh, it had definitely been too long since anyone had touched you. Or maybe it was Frankie who had such an effect on you.
You didn't have a moment to think about it because you felt his fingers gently hook your panties, pushing them aside. You inhaled louder and looked down with your lips parted. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his nose between your slit and shamelessly inhaled your scent. He groaned, bringing you to a state you had never been in before so quickly.
"You smell amazing, baby," he purred, tightening his fingers on your thighs and without warning, he plunged his tongue into your leaking hole. You moaned loudly, looking down at him and your hand tangled itself in his hair.
Frankie slowly ran his tongue between your lips, tasting all the excitement that had managed to escape from you. He purred as if he was eating his favorite dessert. You tightened your fingers in his hair, feeling how every movement of his delicate tongue brought you closer and closer to the heights of pleasure.
"Frankie," you gasped loudly and in response you only received a quiet purr and his tongue on your clit. A broken moan escaped you before you started to breathe heavily because he simply started making out with her.
He sank into your pussy and didn't want to break away even for a second. Like a thirsty man, he circled your sweet spot, licked up your juices, and kissed you. Passionately and deeply, until your knees began to shake.
"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you moaned squeaky, pulling his head closer to your temple. You started to gasp for air, chasing your orgasm that was inexorably approaching with every movement of his tongue. Until finally, you felt a wave of fulfillment pass through your body. You held his hair tightly, not letting him move as he continued to guide you through your orgasm. Broken moans echoed around as your clit throbbed under his tongue.
You swallowed hard and loosened your grip on his hair, which immediately allowed him to lick everything that flowed out of you. You moaned as you felt his tongue gently plunge into your throbbing hole. A quiet curse escaped your lips as you calmed your breathing, looking at the starry sky.
"Tell me you're on some kind of pills because I don't know if I have any condoms with me," he gasped, suddenly appearing in front of you.
His lips glistened with your juices and you couldn't resist pulling him to you by his shirt to kiss him hard. You were so fucking grateful for the wonderful orgasm he gave you, you couldn't put it into words. So you just let yourself kiss him passionately, hugging his neck tightly. He didn't resist, in fact, he willingly leaned closer and sank his teeth into you with pleasure.
"Mhm," you hummed in confirmation because you couldn't even tell him that you had an implant and that you desperately wanted to feel him inside you without any shitty latex barriers. That was enough for him to reach into his pants and sloppily start unbuckling his belt. And you were so impatient that in the meantime you unzipped his fly. You moaned feeling his cock twitch towards your hands.
"Baby, I swear to you, I'm clean," he gasped, reaching for his seething cock.
You immediately jumped, sitting on the hood of the car and spreading your legs wide for him. You didn't even look down when you felt his hot tip right next to your entrance. A groan escaped his throat as he passed between your wet lips a few times and slowly entered you. Your loud moan died in his mouth, which effectively silenced you as he went deeper and deeper, only to withdraw a moment later and go even deeper again. Your walls clenched tightly around him, getting used to his invasive presence. Either you hadn't had a cock inside you for so long, or he was well-endowed by mother nature.
“You’re so big,” you whimpered, taking just over half of him.
Frankie groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly, trying to go deeper but just couldn’t. He cursed under his breath and slowly began to thrust into you, hoping he could stretch you out more over time. But just half of him was enough to make you cock drunk.
You sloppily began to kiss him back and bit his lip hard when he tried to go deeper inside you. He hissed in pain and you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You looked at him terrified but you couldn’t fight the pleasure his dick was giving you, still moving inside your tight pussy.
“I’m sorry,” you moaned, digging your nails into the back of his neck as he thrust his hips harder again. You slid your other hand down to his cheek and wiped the blood that was starting to run down his chin with your thumb.
“Again,” he gasped, looking at you completely pussy drunk. You clenched around him, making him groan, closing his eyes and letting you press hard into his mouth again.
The pain of the open wound and your tongue gently caressing it, sent shivers down to his balls. He felt fucking nirvana as your pussy allowed him to go deeper with each thrust. He tried to fight the quickly approaching orgasm but he simply couldn't. The way you caressed his body was beyond him.
"Baby please, I can't hold it in any longer," he moaned, starting to tremble. Then your lips began to create a trail of kisses along his jaw to his ear. You needed a long moment to come yourself, but right now you wanted nothing more than to please him.
"Go ahead," you whispered with a smile and gently bit his earlobe. The sounds he began to make with each subsequent thrust could bring you to another orgasm without even having to touch your pussy. You made a mental note to try it with him sometime.
All the moans went straight to his ear, and from his ear, straight to his cock, which was pulsing furiously, signaling the approaching orgasm. And then he made the most animalistic sound you've ever heard in your life. His balls tightened in pleasure, and all of his cum erupted deep inside you. He panted heavily, thrusting into you a few more times before he stopped and rested his head on your shoulder. Your cunt throbbed with the excitement of his orgasm and squeezed the last drops out of him, making him shiver. You began to place soft kisses on his neck and played with his hair between your fingers.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he said contritely, feeling awful that he had selfishly come before you.
“Don’t be,” you whispered, smiling fondly and pulling away. Frankie straightened up, looking at you with sparkling eyes. He looked so damn innocent after his orgasm that you immediately wanted to take care of him.
“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he offered and you could hear the hint of pleading in his voice. You smiled wider, shaking your head and placing your hands on his cheeks, stroking his stubble with your thumbs.
“Actually, it was the best first date of my life,” you admitted and leaned down, placing a soft and sweet kiss on his lips. Frankie looked at you with puppy eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. “And honestly, I’m counting on another one. I haven't had this much fun in a while," you bit your lip hiding your wide smile and that was enough to stop him feeling like a dick. He smiled softly and this time he leaned down connecting your lips in a sweet and slow kiss.
"In that case, I make pretty good drinks," he whispered biting your lip getting a moan from you in return.
"I'd like that."
#frankie morales x y/n#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal smut#sanarsi fic
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