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evilgwrl · 3 months ago

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ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

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venuslut · 10 months ago

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FANTASIZING ABOUT a needy Choso Kamo ♡︎.

He can’t help it. Ever since you first introduced him to sex, he just can’t get enough. It’s not his fault that your cunt is so addicting, so much so that he’s often begging you to let him fuck you on his cock. It’s not his fault that you moan so beautifully that he can’t help but thrust into you harder so you’ll make more of those pretty sounds for him. It’s not his fault that you taste so good and he has to have you on his tongue, drinking your juices until you’re shaking and crying. He doesn’t mean to be so needy, but you bring out this side of him he can’t control.

How is he supposed to control himself when you walk around in those skimpy clothes, showing off your plump ass and perfect tits? It’s impossible. He’ll try to resist, have some self-control. But it isn’t long before he’s hugging you from behind, dotting wet kisses along your neck and pushing his hard-on into your ass. All while he’s begging you let him feel your wet cunt. And of course you’ll let him, how could you say no to your cute desperate boyfriend.

The minute you agree he has you laid out under him as he fucks his big cock into your tight cunt. Moaning and whimpering about how good it feels to be inside you again, his face red as he pushes every last inch of himself into you. He uses his weight to thrust into you, which only made your head go dizzy. He has you in a lazy mating press and your plush thighs slap against his hips every time he comes down, the sound of Choso’s deep thrusts is so musical, his tip abusing your womb to the point your eyes roll back. His mouth is so filthy too, and the worst part is, is that he doesn’t even realize it. “Fuck, baby... you’re sucking me in... your pussy’s so tight.” He groans into your ear, sucking onto your skin and leaving purple marks behind, intent on marking you as his. Although there was no point since you still had the hickeys from your last encounter, but it was never enough for Choso.

The poor curse is so in love with your body that he’ll go on for hours and hours just playing with your body. If it was up to him, you both would never leave the bed. Who needs to eat when he can just eat your cunt and you can suck his cock? Who needs to sleep when there’s a new position he wants to try? This man will not stop because that’s how addicted he is to your cunt. You curse the curse’s stamina and sometimes wish you had a normal boyfriend, but he usually fucks those thoughts right out of your head before you can try and act on them. “Choso… ngh!— h-hold on, my body…” you mumbled, unable to fully say your sentence. He hits a particularly sensitive spot and you let out a strangled cry, bucking your hips wildly to try and get that same pleasure again. Choso eyed your reaction, angling his hips to continue hitting that spot over and over again til you’re seeing stars and screaming out his name. You had no thoughts about shame, or how you should lower your voice, not when your handsome boy was fucking you within an inch of your life.

“Right there? ‘s that the spot, dove?” He pants, voice hoarse from his overwhelming desire for you. You’ve lost track of time, to obsessed with the way Choso has you creaming around his cock for the nth time. Everything was too much, but you loved it, in an addictive way. The overstimulation was addicting. His words were addicting. The sound of the bed hitting the wall was addicting. His cock was addicting. He was addicting. You always tease Choso about his neediness when in reality, you’re just as needy and obsessed as he is. You can tell Choso is close by the way his cock twitched inside you and how he speeds up his movements, rutting into you with wild abandon and chasing his orgasm.

You throw your head back into a pillow, your vision almost going black as you were consumed with ecstasy. The air was knocked out of your lungs with every snap of his hips, your senses filled with just the pressure of Choso. It felt like you were gonna throw up, but not in a bad way. “Baby… babybabybabybaby! A-ah! Mgn…” you cried out in pleasure, clawing at the sheets below you. Choso’s hands tightened around your hips, his careful grip growing into a bruising hold as he was solely focused on reaching his climax. “Hah— you feel sososososo good, dove. I love you, I love you so much,” he whimpered. It was right there, he could feel it, just a couple more thrusts and he’ll finally have his release. He wants to cum so bad, he needs to cum.

“Hey dove? C-can I fill your pretty pussy with my cum? Wanna cum inside you,” he begged, his voice broken as he pleads with you. “Please, my love… I want to stuff your pussy with my cum, wanna fill you up…” he continues, kissing your ankle and calf to convince you further. You didn’t need much convincing though, you were already to dumb and out-of-it to deny the poor curse. Frantically, you nodded your head, just wanting to feel his hot semen inside you. And you finally got your wish after a few more sloppy thrusts, before Choso goes still and empties his balls into your awaiting cavern. He lets out a guttural moan as ropes of cum spurt out. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock coated in a translucent white, his thighs and pelvis sticky from a mix of sweat and cum.

You both lay there in silence, the sounds of your labored breathing being the only noise echoing through the room. While coming down from your high, you remember that the reason you even got dressed today was because you had work. Annoyed, you lightly smack the upside of Choso’s head, complaining about how he made you late while you go to get out of bed and put your clothes back on. Choso rubs the area where you hit him as he watched you struggle to move and get out of bed, he looks at you like a kicked puppy and he knows he should be sorry for making you late but he can’t find it in him to feel guilty. Instead, Choso reaches out and wraps his arms around you, pulling you back further onto the bed and flushed against his sweaty chest. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and he lines soft kisses to your nape.

“I’m sorry, dove… Why don’t you call out and let me eat your pussy as an apology?”

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ssorenz · 4 months ago

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LET’S HAVE THE SEX TALK, AY ⭑ .ᐟ

syn ⊹. in which teaching your 150y/o curse boyfriend the ways of the human life (and pleasure) goes surprisingly smooth.

cont ⊹. choso kamo x fem! reader, virgin!choso, oral (giving and receiving), premature ejac, afab!reader, NSFW CONTENT minors dni!!! wc: 1k

a/n⊹. virgin choso save me virgin choso 🙏 i wanted to post this since its been sitting in the drafts for so long omg

“baby, somethin- something’s wrong wit’ me. . .”

the half-curse invokes from your bedroom, his anxious timbre making you rush hurriedly down the hall—only to find him sat on the edge of your shared bed, blushing profusely with a small throw pillow covering his crotch.

ohhh.

you and choso had been together for about 6 months now, yet the two of you never had any sexual encounters, due to the fact that you wanted him to become more adjusted to human life before trying anything. but now with this certain issue at bay, you decided it was finally time.

you took a deep breath before recollecting yourself, taking a cushiony seat next to him, and explained to your boyfriend that what he was experiencing was utterly normal and nothing to be ashamed of.

"jus' make it stop, please. ."

oh, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

and before you know it, you’re gravitating yourself lower, closer and closer towards his obviously growing erection. even through his pajama pants you can see how big he is. and you sure as hell weren’t wrong.

your lips form a perfect ‘o’ shape once he’s completely out of his boxers. an angry red mushroomed tip that’s practically dripping already— crystalline beads of pre down to his hefty pale base thats accented with a vein or two. and to think this was here the whole time…

“i-is something wrong?” choso inquires, a hint of worry in his tone. shifting your gaze upward, you could see his averted gaze and beet red cheeks from sheer embarrassment. you giggled softly, he was so cute when he was flustered.

“nuh uh, everything’s perfect. now, im going to do something, n’ you tell me if it feels good or not. okay?”

he swallows, before nodding eagerly in agreement, still averting his eyes from your figure below. lolling your tongue out, you licked a long warm stripe from the base to that oh-so sensitive tip of his. a poorly stifled moan could be heard from above as choso’s clawing at the downed sheets behind him, instantly stiffening up from this foreign euphoria.

"f-feels s’good," and he’s gasping out between breaths, eyes fluttering shut out of pure ecstasy. you smile around his cock, lips instinctively wrap around his sensitive head— giving small kitten licks before gradually taking more of him into your mouth. choso's hips begin to jerk up involuntarily as you begin stroking him with your tongue, the heat of your mouth making him twitch inside. a delicate hand of his finds its way entangled inside of your hair, holding you in place as if he’s beginning to lose himself completely, giving in to the bliss.

choso's resounding moans become more and more frequent as you work your way down, taking more of him into your mouth with each pass. his hips beginning to thrust upwards, meeting the rhythm of your bobbing head.

he dares to open his eyes— and that was his biggest mistake.

seeing you on your knees, eyes virtually glowing with pure lust in this low lighting, gazing up at him ever so tenderly yet seductively. taking him down your throat with little to no effort, god it was enough to make him-

“sh-shiitt!” and ropes of his warm essence are rudely painting the back of your throat as he’s spasming in your mouth, cum trickling down onto your tongue when he pulls out. his breathing is still uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly as he’s trying to recover while you’re sitting pretty with a coy grin plastered on your face. “how was that, cho? did it fee—”

“w-wanna try it on you… please?”

and now the roles are reversed, your legs hooked over his shoulders as he’s kneeling infront of your bare cunny.

he leans in, warm breath tickling against your inner thighs, nervously dangling his tongue out before swiftly flicking it just on your clitoris, causing you to groan.

and that first taste has him hooked. he latches himself onto the bud of your clit, similarly to how you did moments prior. it’s barely been seconds and he’s delved nose-deep into your wetness. he wasn’t all that sure about what he was doing, but telling from the way you were so vocal, mantras of his name echoing throughout his ears, he was doing a damn good job.

there was that feeling yet again— that strain in his boxers as his crotch pooled with a familiar warmth. he looked down and sure enough, there was again a strained tent pitched in his pants.

and his body's moving faster than his mind, his hand’s already snaked down to his boxers, palming himself through the cottony fabric. muffled guttural groans evading through parted lips as he’s drinking up your candily sweet juices, all while his hand’s wrapped around his stiffened length. trying so hard to replicate the sensation of your warm, wet mouth that was just present moments ago.

hips stuttering in sync with his rhythms, as your hand is engulfed in his ravenated strands, broken cacophonous moans of his name string from your mouth as your grinding along the heat of his tongue—leaving your pussy drooling, glassy slick dripping down the man's coated chin.

"haah—ch-cho, doin' so good..." your praise only riles him up even more, his pace picking up, becoming more and more lost in a daze. tongue darting in and out of your cunt with quick precision, teasing every sensitive spot it managed to find.

you feel your stomach tightening, the creeping sensation of your climax approaching ever so hurriedly. and it hits you like a crashing wave as one final thrust from choso’s tongue puts you right over the edge, body shuddering as it washes over you.

he can’t hold back much longer either as his cock is aching. and with a few last frantic, sloppy jerks, he finally pulls away from your cunt as loads of his cum spill into his boxers.

gasping for air himself, he looks up at you through strands of his sweaty hair before proposing the question that makes even your worn-out expression morph into something much more fitting— shocked, if you will.

“c-can we go again?”

ssorenz™ 2024, do not repost, translate or copy.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #jujutsu kaisen choso #ssorenz ᝰ.ᐟ #choso #jjk x reader smut

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slttygeto · 1 year ago

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°˖➴ when your baby …— (JJK MEN)

જ⁀➴ featuring: nanami kento, kamo choso, fushiguro toji, geto suguru and gojo satoru.

જ⁀➴ word count: 2,6k

જ⁀➴ tags: fluff, pregnancy, birth, babies, domestic jjk men, they're all your husbands, them being perfect.

જ⁀➴ note: not proofread, some of these are a bit unrealistic, but keep in mind that it's fiction and i don't have a baby.

°˖➴ when your baby smiles for the first time: [nanami kento]

Birth was a blessing in itself, but having a partner as supportive as Kento made everything worth it, down to the sleepless nights you have been spending trying to get used to your baby’s constant need to be cuddled, fed and taken care of. You were frustrated, it was pretty evident by the tears welling up in your eyes every two seconds along with how you simply refused to be near anyone but your baby and Kento. Thankfully, he was always the one coaxing you to get out of the bed and sit on the balcony, have a full meal and relax while he took care of the baby.

On the outside, it seemed as though Kento had everything under control, and that nothing could affect him as long as you were okay. He never cried when you did (beside when he held the baby for the first time), and he made sure to validate your every frustration and fear, all while telling you that everything will be okay.

Which brings us to this moment, with both of you sitting on the couch with your baby on his lap. One of your favorite things about these nights was that Kento never skipped them and always made sure to play with your baby for a bit before helping you put her to bed. Even when he was incredibly exhausted.

Kento rocked your baby back and forth, enjoying the happy and curious noises leaving your daughter’s mouth. Your husband’s pointer was gently tracing her face, humming a soft tune about how adorable she was all while helping her be more aware of her body.

“And those are your eyes,” his tired voice came out. “And this is your nose,” accompanied with a boop, “and those are your precious cheeks,” a laugh escaped his lips when your daughter seemed to try to escape from the ticklish feeling of his finger and you chuckled at the scene. Your happiness was so contagious that your daughter’s lips twitched and a giggle escaped her lips.

“Oh,” Kento paused his movements but it only seemed to make your daughter giggle even more. “Look at you,” a smile broke on your husband’s face and he leans down to brush his nose against hers. “Is daddy your favorite comedian already?” And the louder her giggles got, the harder it was for your husband to contain his own laughter. He throws his head back on the couch and closes his eyes, and when he leans back down towards your baby girl, her smile only gets bigger and bigger.

You bring your legs up to your chest and watch the scene unfold with a heart full of love and adoration for your husband and the human being you both created. And when Nanami notices your silence, he supports his baby girl’s head with one hand and reaches his free hand towards your leg to caress it.

“Are you okay, darling?” To which you flash him with a smile that Kento could only describe as one that filled his heart to the brim.

“Never been better.”

°˖➴ when your baby first rolls over: [kamo choso]

You were well aware of how anxious and easily nervous your husband could get. Throughout your entire pregnancy, you were never allowed to be even a foot away from him. On a normal day, you would’ve asked for personal space, but lucky Choso, your pregnancy hormones seemed to make you even more attached to him.

Now that your baby boy was here, all of that anxiety and nervousness was doubled. Instead of worrying about one person and a bump, Choso had to make sure you and your baby were both okay all while trying not to tire himself to stay awake for you two. Night feeds were usually his favorite time of the day, despite your tired self and the sleepiness on your face, watching you try to hold your baby while feeding him always made him lean towards you and press a kiss to your forehead.

Your baby was about three months old when Choso started becoming even more involved with diaper and outfit changing. Not that he didn’t want to at the beginning, you were always far too nervous to let him do anything unsupervised. Your baby was currently on the bed while his father reached for the outfit that he laid out for him. And while Choso was always super careful, you had called out his name before walking into the room and so he turns his head to the door and is confused when you’re wide eyed and staring at the bed.

“What?”

“Look- the baby, Choso!” He turns to stare at his son and is pleasantly surprised when he notices that his son had fully rolled over and was now on his stomach. Your husband doesn’t say a thing as your baby makes noises, almost complaining to you both that he wasn’t seeing you and that his muscles were still too weak to support his head, so Choso rolls him on his back and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“…don’t you think it’s too soon for him to try to leave mid-conversation?”

“Baby,” you let out a chuckle. “I’m sure that’s not what he meant.”

“He’s moving too quickly! What do you mean he was able to roll over?” Your husband complains and he slowly dresses up your son.

“It just means our baby is healthy and functioning well.”

“Yeah,” Choso says softly before picking up your baby. “Our baby.”

°˖➴ when your baby starts crawling: [fushiguro toji]

Toji always thought that he didn’t deserve a second chance at life. He simply thought it was too late to start over, that was until he met you and you made him realize that ‘too late’ didn’t really have a place in your dictionary. You made him experience everything all over again; from falling in love to raising two healthy babies along with Megumi and Tsumiki. You gave him a second chance at being a father all while helping him fix his relationship with his kids.

You always made sure to help Tsumiki and Megumi with their homework while Toji stayed with your baby boy and baby girl. He would sit on the floor and watch as they struggled to even hold up their heads and try to reach for him.

“Come on now, I know you can do it,” Toji held the toy your baby boy was whining to his father to give him, and your husband was very stubborn about what his kids were capable of. Tsumiki and Megumi were already excelling at different sports and even academically, and despite you trying to convince your husband that your babies were only six months old, he wouldn’t listen.

Shifting his attention from his son to his daughter, he reaches for the toy in her hands and slowly takes it away from her. He watches as a pout forms on her lips and her eyes get teary almost immediately, and Toji has never believed in mother instinct as much as right now, because you burst out of the study room at the same time as your baby girl crying.

“Toji,” your disappointed tone as you walked towards the scene made the man turn back towards his babies.

“I just think they should be crawling by now.”

“They need time baby,” you step behind him and look over your baby girl who was trying to rub her teary eyes. “You can try by setting it in front of her, then she can try reaching for it.”

Your husband does as he is told and completely forgets about his son’s toy. Too focused on getting your daughter to move towards her toy, he fails to notice his son slowly crawling towards him to retrieve the small item sitting next to him but you do.

“Oh!” your gasp catches your husband’s attention and he immediately notices his son. “Come on baby! Good job!” Toji doesn’t waste time and turns back towards your daughter, gently coaxing her into moving towards her toy.

“Come on baby girl, come on,” it is very rare for Toji to be smiling so softly but whenever he was with his kids, his cheeks would end up hurting him from smiling too much.

Your daughter’s attention quickly shifts towards the person that walks out of the study room, and when her eyes fall on Megumi, a giggle escapes her lips and she starts moving towards her older brother. You and Toji watch in awe as Megumi sits cross legged on the floor and talks very softly to his baby sister, words of encouragement leaving his lips as your baby girl stops a couple of times and whines at the difficult task at hand.

“Just a bit more, come on,” But once in Megumi’s arms, the boy holds her carefully before walking back towards you and his dad. Toji stands up with his younger son in his arms before patting Megumi’s head.

“Good job, boy. You did well.” To which Megumi responds to with a shy nod before handing you his baby sister.

Moments like these sure made it feel like everything in life was worth it.

°˖➴ when your baby says their first word: [geto suguru]

You never knew you could fall in love twice until you saw your husband become a father to your beautiful baby girls. Not only was he supportive, which was obviously the bare minimum, he still managed to be present for all three of his girls at the same time. The girls were obsessed with their father, and rightfully so, but something you truly admired about your husband was that he made sure to include himself during their play time.

And despite your attempts at convincing him that play time meant playing with dolls and plushies, Suguru was adamant on teaching his little girls very interesting words that had their tiny eight month old brains almost short circuit.

“Sugu, easy there. They can’t possibly know what pontificate means.” You say followed with a low chuckle, watching as the man sat down on the floor with his legs spread wide open for his two girls to sit in the space there and glance at the book their father was holding.

“My girls are smart like their parents,” your husband says with a serious look on his face. “I need their first words to be something smart, something big…”

“I need something that screams Beyoncé,” you say jokingly and your husband shoots you a playful glare.

“Be serious.”

You squat in front of your baby girls and it immediately shifts their attention from the book Suguru was holding and you smile at that. You instinctively open your arms and wait for them to crawl towards you, but instead one of the girls looks back at Suguru and waits for him to look down at her.

“Mama,” your little girl turns to her sister before staring at you and starts crawling towards you and your jaw almost touches the floor.

“Did you just say mama?”

“Mamama,” your other daughter mimics her sister and tries to escape Suguru’s hold, but he catches her in his arms and his happiness seems to be a lot more obvious than yours.

“Yeah baby, that’s mama! She said mama, did you hear that?” You grab your baby girl who was crawling towards you and grin at your husband.

“Didn’t you say you wanted their first word to be something big?”

“You’re their everything, so it is something big.” There was no doubt that you picked the right person to father your children.

°˖➴ when your baby starts walking: [gojo satoru]

You’ve always known that your baby was going to be as hyper as Satoru. Ever since he was in the womb, your baby would not stop moving and kicking, it even resulted in him almost wrapping the umbilical cord around his neck but thankfully, the birth went great and he came out as healthy as ever.

Despite being so sure that the baby would be a carbon copy of his father, your baby boy ended up taking your every facial feature. Satoru couldn’t deny that he wished his baby had his white hair, but something about having a second human looking exactly like you melted his heart. But that was literally the only thing the baby had about you, just the looks. Because God, was he an active baby.

He was holding his head up and rolling on his stomach faster than you had expected, and since Satoru loved to test his boy’s limits, your baby ended up crawling soon after. Not even two months later, your baby was saying his first words and all you could do was nod and smile as people told you how unique your baby was, and a part of you could only wish that you would shelter him from all the attention he was getting. But he was a Gojo, and stuff like this was bound to happen.

But the moment your husband noticed your discomfort, he immediately stopped accepting people when they asked to come over. He was excited to become a father, but it wouldn’t be the same if it meant robbing you of the same place that was supposed to bring you comfort.

And apparently, only he could keep up with his son’s hyper self. Crawling from corner to corner, squealing in excitement and tossing his toys around, Satoru even encouraged his son to grab onto the couch and crawl around the space that was heavily baby-proofed.

“Ah, you’re so eager to walk, aren’t you?” Satoru teases his son as he tries to hold onto the couch and stand up. With a little bit of support on his bum, your baby managed to stand up but freezes there and turns his head to the side where his father was staring at him.

“What, are you scared? It’s not so fun anymore, hm?” Your husband teases your son who seems to be taking his father’s words not very well. He pouts and rests his head on the couch, refusing to look at his dad and Satoru laughs out loud.

“Come on, I was only joking, you’re good at everything just like your dad.” You eventually walk down the stairs and you raise an eyebrow at your pouting eleven month old son.

“What did you do?” you immediately pin the blame onto your husband who gasps and puts a hand on his chest.

“I didn’t do anything!” He pats your son’s bum as your baby’s wobbly legs try to move him around the couch and towards you. “He stood up and got scared, and I found it funny.”

“Oh baby,” you squat down to your baby’s level and reach out your hands to grab him. “Papa is so mean, isn’t he?”

“Am not,” Satoru rolls his eyes but he watches as your son reaches the end of the couch and hesitates to let go. You lock eyes with your baby, and your husband thinks it’s a beautiful example of mothers and babies silently communicating, because no words were exchanged yet your baby knew to trust you completely.

He doesn’t fall into your arms but instead, he pushes himself away from the couch and takes a very small step towards you. You try not to gasp in surprise, and you wait as he takes another step—then another, and another before falling in your embrace and both you and Satoru are wide eyed and surprised at what just happened.

“He just—“

“He walked!” Your husband jumps from his spot on the ground and takes your baby in his arms. “My son is one of a kind! I’m telling you, he will win a nobel prize—“

Satoru always found a way to be excited about any of his son’s milestones.

2023 ; all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

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totallynotashieldagent · 1 month ago

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Kinktober 2024 - Thigh Riding

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Jason wasn’t an idiot. He’d seen you look at him whenever he came home and changed into his normal clothes. He saw the way you looked at him, biting your lip, eyeing him up and down when he was in his fitted gear–

Today, however, you were just sitting on his lap- well, on his thigh. Leaning back, as the movie played. A dumb action movie, all special effects, and barely any plot. Perfect for a lazy night. Him in his sweatpants and a vest. You in your oversized, got at a thrift-store nightshirt and cotton panties- And it was, honest to god it was a lazy night until he shifted a little and leaned over to grab a beer and you moved ever to slightly and your brain short-circuited perfectly.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought about it. Of course, you had. There was a whole subreddit dedicated to Jason’s fucking thighs as the Hood. You hated how everyone salivated at your boyfriend but god how you loved all the pictures people posted on there.

Would be a lie if you said you didn’t get yourself off to it. There was one where he-

“Baby, what are you doing?” His voice was hot against your neck.

“Nothing-” You said, pretending you were watching the movie, as if you hadn't completely tuned out everything apart from just the feeling of him. As if you weren’t slowly grinding down on his thigh. As if there wasn’t going to be a wet patch on his sweatpants soon enough.

“Don’t feel like nothing, sweetheart.” He murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his hands squeezing at your hips ever so gently. You didn’t answer, simply leaning forward to have more control on your movements, bracing your hands on his knee as you continued to grind again. But this time you weren’t hiding it anymore.

“Sweetheart-” Jason exhaled a soft laugh that twisted into a groan, his hands clenching and unclenching at your hips, starting to guide you better. “You wanna-”

“Yes.” You swallowed before he could even ask properly. “ Yes- ” You whimpered again, “Please-” You bit your lip, eyes so focused on the screen that everything was turning into a blur.

His thigh was so solid and muscular and felt so good but-

“Baby-” He rasped, his voice clearly showing that this was affecting him too. “Let me-” He mumbled against your neck between wet kisses. Lifting you up and pushing his sweat pants down just enough so now your clothed cunt was rubbing against his skin.

“Jay-” You mewled and your eyes finally screwed shut.

“ Shhh- Let it feel good, sweetheart.” Jason hand was wrapped around his own aching cock as his other hand guided you move better against him. “You wanna make a mess of my thigh, don’t you?” You mumbled a yes, please- need- “A little louder, honey.” He bit your shoulder gently. Not enough to cause any pain or leave marks, just enough to get your attention.

“Mh- Yes!” You whined, grinding yourself harder against his muscle.

“ Good girl- Such a pretty thing-” He whispered, pumping himself, his hand under your nigthshirt, squeezing the flesh, kneading his just enough to be bruising but not painful as he moved you.

“I- Jay- I need-” Words were slowly losing meaning.

“What?” He licked the side of your neck, making you tilt your neck to the side with soft whimpering moans of more, please, keep going- “Tell me what you need, sweetheart.” His voice is so gentle that anyone would miss the command in it.

“Move- Move me- I can’t-” It was getting harder to keep the momentum. The friction was starting to get just perfect and your body would twitch away when it got too much. You wanted to concentrate more.

Jason didn’t need to be told more. His hands moved skillfully, moving the cotton of the underwear to the side, holding it taut as he held you down, grinding you harder and slowly against his thigh. You moaned and nodded, eyes closed, breath broken and nails digging into his knee because it suddenly felt that good .

He whispered praises, the wetness on his thigh growing as he moved you. That’s my good girl. So close, aren’t you? Are you going to make a mess? Yes- So close, my good girl-

The filthy praise always got you good. You shuddered broken gasps of breath. You were pretty sure your nails were digging hard enough to draw blood but at this point, you really didn’t care. You were just so, so , close and-

“Baby, won’t you cum for me?” He whispered against your neck, leaving wet open-mouth kisses and that finally- finally did you in.

Jason kept grinding you down on his thigh, his movements hard and deliberate as you whined and moaned his name like a desperate prayer. Your back arched as you came, your thighs clenching to ride it out and he kept moving you until you fell back against his chest.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He mused, his palms rubbing softly at your thighs.

“‘S’good-” You exhaled a laugh, your eyes glassy as you looked over at him.

Wide smirk on his face, his cock still aching next to you, precum dripping just from seeing you come undone and his thigh soaked from your cum.

“How about round two?” He turned your face to kiss you properly.

Kinktober 2024.

#kinktober 2024 #kinktober #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #smut #dc #reader insert #red hood #kinktober 2024 totallynotashieldagent

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luveline · 7 months ago

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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.

“I’m thinking.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”

“You’re truly humble.”

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”

“I’m not traumatised.”

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”

“What did he say to you?”

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”

“Did he call you that?”

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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sturnsdarling · 3 months ago

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I don't know how to forget you

matt and y/n have been best friends their whole life, but after a drunken kiss and a night of tangled limbs, everything is changing.

vibe check: smut throughout (pretty equal sex dynamic, softdombutneedy!matt / subbutdeviant!reader), fluff, (resolved) angst, childhood best friends to idiots to idiots in love, y/n is scared of love (aren't we all), soft!matt, depressed!matt/reader, soppy confessions of love

this is a long one, kids: 12k words.

A/N: I LOVE THEM!! anyways this whole thing is based on one of my favourite songs of all time so if you don't know then get to know. I had so much fun writing this so I hope you love it as much as I do. IDIOTS IN LOVE SUPREMACY🗣 also tysm for over 200 followers you guys are insane

moodboards for this fic

love and cigs, merc

You burst into the house back first, Matts hands clawing at your waist and his lips moving against yours in a clash of teeth and tongues, your arms draped over his shoulders as your hands desperately clung to his messy brown hair.

He kicked the door shut with his foot, one hand coming to your jaw to pull you into him deeper. You both clumsily walked towards his bedroom, Matt leading you backwards with closed eyes, just about missing the couch. Your hands left his hair and found the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up over his head with vigour, breaking the kiss for a brief moment before crashing back into each other. Heavy breathing and small moans were the only sound in his house as he attempted to unbutton your shirt, not yet breaking the kiss and fumbling at the tiny circles that kept your body from him. He groaned into the kiss in frustration, biting your lip slightly before tearing your shirt open in one fowl rip. You chuckled into the kiss, Matt followed suit and your back hit the hard wood of his bedroom door, your arm frantically finding the door handle behind you.

When you finally gained entrance, still locked in an all consuming make out session with Matt, you slipped your hands between your bodies and began to untie the knot in his joggers, his whole body twitching at the sensation. Matt broke the kiss, panting, his forehead leaning on yours.

“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours.

“I know what I said” you muttered, finally undoing the bow that acted as the gatekeeper between your hand and his aching length, the swift insertion of your cold hand into his warm boxers acting as a mic drop to your statement as you pulled him into you once more.

“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours.

One month earlier

You and Matt had been seeing each other for about six months, it all started as an innocent drunken kiss at a birthday party, that same night ending with you underneath him on his satin sheets, getting pounded into at a rapid rate. You had both decided that, as two consenting adults (your exact words when you propositioned him the idea) you should start sleeping with each other on a regular basis. What was the harm right? The sex was good, you knew each other inside and out, having been friends for basically your whole lives, and you knew that no matter what happened, you’d always love each other unconditionally.

At first it was amazing, the sex was obviously incredible and, outside of the bedroom, basically nothing changed. No one had even noticed a difference between you two, your dynamic already being touchy and somewhat flirty prior to your decision to hook up every so often.

Despite the occasional stolen glance and white knuckled night out from being forced to watch one another get hit on by random strangers at bars, it was honestly really normal, at least it felt that way.

Being with Matt was easy, he was kind and caring, being around him was like being with yourself, there was no bullshit and no expectations. You just, saw each other, truly and completely.

As time went on, the sex became something more, it stopped being about simply acting on an urge and started being about the closeness. The intimacy of it all. You craved him, and he was addicted to you. He stopped flirting back with the girls that pushed themselves against him at bars, and you stopped entertaining the boys that bent over backwards to get your attention. Neither of you had noticed it at first but, no one was interesting anymore. No one understood you like the two of you did, no one even came close. No one could make you laugh like he did, and no one could bring him out of his own head like you could. No one knew your body like him, and vice versa, and soon enough, the sex started to change the way you saw each other.

Instead of seeing Matt, your childhood best friend and the kid that accidentally broke your arm by landing on you at the bottom of a snowy hill when you were kids; you saw Matt, a lingering presence of safety in a crowed room and a blissful night of endless orgasms. Instead of seeing you, the fourth wheel in his little family and the girl that bullied him for being five foot nothing until he was sixteen, he saw you, a beaming ray of light in his life and the sexiest woman he’d ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

The shift didn’t seem to matter, as far as you were both aware, nothing had changed. That was until one night when you were hanging out with Matt as you always did:

You and Matt were half naked, tangled up in one another on his bed, watching gravity falls for the billionth time and enjoying each others company.

You were rested against his headboard, clad in his t-shirt and your underwear, and he was rested in-between your legs, his bare back comfortably wedged between your thighs as his long, plaid pyjama pant covered legs spread over the length of his bed. Matt turned his head to the side, peppering a small kiss on the side of your leg before shifting to lift himself up off his bed, the loss of his warm pressure against you almost painful.

“m’gonna go get a drink, baby, y’want anything?” He said, standing up and hovering next to the bed.

You shook your head, looking up at him, “I’m good, thank you”.

“Okay” he leant down, the weight of his arms making the bed shift under you as he placed a tender kiss on your lips, your mouths slotting together effortlessly.

He walked out the room and the door clicked shut. In your momentary solitude, the game changing realisation infiltrated your brain.

He just called you baby, and not when you were fucking, he called you baby like, like it was your name, like it was the easiest thing to call you in that moment, like it felt right to him so he did it, or even worse, that he didn’t even think about it, like that’s who you are to him.

A sudden wave of panic came over you, the events of the last however many months flashing through your brain. The longing looks, the small jealous comments that went over your head, the lingering touches when you were with your friends, his desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days. All of it started to come together in your mind as one big puzzle of ‘holy fucking shit he has feelings for me, and not just I care about you as a friend but I also wanna fuck you feelings, real feelings’. That wasn’t the scary part though, the scary part was how effortless it felt, to you. How it all just made sense with him, how it was never weird or awkward, how you felt completely safe with him, how you felt genuinely and utterly, loved by him.

Your rapid mind was interrupted by Matt walking back into the room.

“Chris drank all the fuckin’ soda already, kids an addict I swear to god” he said, holding a glass of lemonade.

You chuckled slightly at his remark, your eyes fixated on your fingers as you picked and pulled at the skin of your thumb. Matt fell backwards onto the bed, half his weight on your legs. The pressure suddenly made you uncomfortable and, without really thinking about it, you pulled your legs from under him and tucked them under yourself. The movement made Matt turn up to look at you, finally noticing your weird demeanour. You never pulled away from him, if anything you did the opposite, especially when you were alone. Matts brows furrowed as he turned to lay on his stomach.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked softly, rubbing a gentle finger on your leg.

You shifted under his touch again, which worried him, a lot. He shifted and raised himself up to sit in front of you. He hooked a finger under your chin and lifted your head up.

“What’s the matter?” He questioned, his voice thick with concern.

You shook your head, his baring blue eyes making you feel claustrophobic in your own skin.

“m’fine” you said, attempting to look away from him.

Your energy was jarring, and Matt was utterly confused, what the fuck had happened in the maybe twenty-seconds he had been gone and why were you suddenly acting like you didn’t even want to look at him?

“Y/n/n, I know when you’re lying, what’s wrong?” He said, trying to find your eyes again.

You didn’t reply, only returned to picking at your thumbs. Matt simply stared at you, unable to understand why you were suddenly a tense and anxious ball of energy.

After what felt like an eternity, you broke the silence, your voice coming out in a choked strain.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Matt” your eyes didn’t leave your skin.

Those nine words hit matt like a bus, knocking the wind out of him as his mouth parted in a feeling he could only describe as agony.

“Do what? As in, do this” he said, gesturing to himself and then to you.

You finally raised your head to look at him, a deep sadness hiding behind your emotionless face. “I don’t think it's a good idea, it’s gone on for way longer than either of us expected, and—“ you huffed, “I just can’t do it anymore” you tore your gaze from him, incapable of the decency it took to look him in the eye as you tore his heart from his chest.

“wh—“ Matt muttered, “where the fuck has this come from?” He shook his head, eyes squinting and brows scrunching together.

You didn’t reply, only shifted in your own skin. Your aloofness was like sand paper against Matts skin, he barely recognised you. His mind raced with the endless mind boggling possibilities as to why you didn’t want to be with him anymore, but they all centred into one crippling thought.

“Is there someone else?” He said, his voice dropping an octave.

“No” you said immediately, the ‘there could never be anyone else’ staying tucked between your teeth as your head shot up to look at him.

“So what is then? Did I— did I do something?” His tone faltered, coming out as almost apologetic.

You shook your head, gnawing at the inside of your cheeks, “I just — you — I — ” you couldn’t find the words to make it make sense, because it didn’t, it didn’t make sense, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of the walls closing in around you.

“Y/n/n” your name rolled off his tongue like honey, his head shifting on his shoulders towards you slightly, his brows still knit firmly together in confusion that looked a lot like sadness.

“I have to go” you said, unable to look at him for a second longer in fear of bursting into tears.

“Wait—” he said, reaching out for you as you climbed off the bed and picked up your jeans that were sprawled across the floor.

“Matt, I have to go” you cut him off, picking up your things and hurrying out the door, not looking at him for even a split second.

You shut the door behind you and he opened it almost immediately, following you out into his kitchen, watching as you raced down the stairs.

“Y/n” he called out your name, but your pace didn’t falter, and in a flash and a slam of his front door, you were gone.

He stood at the top of the stairs, blinking at the closed door a head of him.

On the sofa, Chris and Nick were staring at him, waiting for him to say something and sharing flitting glances back and forth with one another.

“What the fuck was that about?” Chris said, breaking the deafening silence.

“Is she okay?” Nick followed his brothers questioning.

“I have no idea” Matt said, that simple fact being the only thing he did know.

You threw yourself into your car, slamming the door shut. The sound rang through your ears and the silence that filled the vehicle after was enough to send you tumbling into your sadness. Tears brimmed at your eyes as heavy, fast pants rapidly escaped your nose, you felt awful, you had no idea what you were doing, why did you leave like that? Why didn’t you just talk to him, he’s your best friend, why didn’t you just say something? Anything? What would you even say? I think you’re in love with me and I’m terrified that I love you too? Being with you like this has been the best six months of my life? the thought of losing you makes me feel like I'm dying? Any attempt to try and put how you felt into words made you spiral, and after a pent up moment of burning holes into the black leather of your steering wheel, the flood gates opened.

“Fuck!” you screamed, tears cascading down your face and you hit the wheel with the palm of your hands over and over again.

You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like you were drowning in your own mind and had no way of coming to the surface. Your relentless mind was exhausting, and when your hands started to sting from your merciless slaps against the brittle leather, you clutched the wheel, resting your forehead against the material with closed eyes.

“What the fuck is wrong with me” you whispered to yourself, shaking your head against the wheel.

You pulled one hand off the wheel and turned the key in the exhaust, starting the car as you lifted your head, taking a deep, calming inhale.

You gripped the wheel once more, turning your head and looking to Matts house, all you wanted was to go back inside, tell him that you’re scared, absolutely fucking terrified of how you feel about him, but you didn't, instead, you clenched your jaw, ripped your gaze from the house and pulled out into the street.

On your drive home through the nearly empty LA highways, your mind raced with the events of the last six months, the orange streetlights periodically illuminating your car. Your playlist blared through the speakers on full volume as your unsuccessful attempt to drown out the sound of your own thoughts was brought to fruition, ‘sex’ by eden started to play, the drums and claps filling your senses as the piano melody took your mind to the last six months.

The longing looks;

You were wrapped in a fluffy towel, your wet hair cascading down your shoulders as you lazily rubbed moisturiser over your clean face in Matts bathroom mirror. The door clicked open, and Matt softly padded into the damp steamy room, cold air following him in. His presence didn’t disturb you, you continued to do your skincare routine as he came up behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder and sneaking his long tattooed arms around your waist. Neither of you said anything, you didn’t even look at him. In that moment, his presence was simply an extension of your existence.

As you softly massaged a hydrating serum into your soft skin, Matt couldn’t help but stare at you in the reflection. He loved you like this, your most pure and natural self, skin still littered with drops of water from the shower and your hair forming loose curls as it dried messily over your shoulders.

He watched you intently from his perched position just beside the curve of your neck. He thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, and he could never get tired of looking at you. His gaze was heavy on your face, and once you’d finished applying all of your products, you let your eyes flit to his in the mirror, finally locking eyes with him. His mouth instantly curling up into a smile when you shot him a small grin.��

“You’re so beautiful” he said, his eye contact never wavering.

Your smile grew and you dropped your head slightly, shaking it with an embarrassed chuckle.

Matt squeezed you tighter to gain your attention again, missing the piercing warmth your eyes gave him. He picked his head up slightly and began to pepper short pecks on your damp, vanilla scented skin. The pecks slowly turned to small open mouth kisses, the warmth of his tongue against your skin sending shivers up your spine and encouraging a pool of wetness to collect between your legs. You let your head hang to the side slightly as he moved his kisses up your neck, stopping as he reached just below your ear. You whined as he pulled away and he laughed slightly, moving his hands to your waist and turning you round to face him.

The base of your spine was pressed against the marble counter top and Matt stared down into you, his hands absentmindedly rubbing circles against the towel that covered you. He effortlessly lifted you up and placed you on the sink, his hands finding your jaw once you landed the short jump.

“I mean it, y’know, I think you might be the prettiest girl in the entire universe” his thumbs pressing into your cheeks as his slender fingers wrapped around the nape of your neck.

His eyes were baring into yours, flitting between the left and right as an uncontrollable smile engulfed your face as you batted your lashes at him, returning his stare with doe eyes that almost made his knees buckle.

“That’s a pretty damning statement, Matthew, I’m not sure I can live up to that title” You quipped, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him against you, aching for friction as you throbbed at his words.

“There’s no question about it, pretty girl, no one even comes close” he said, pushing his jogger clad, growing bulge against your desperate core and pulling your impossibly close to him.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are” he said, just before pulling you into a wet and tender kiss.

You moaned against his lips as Matt ground his hips into yours, his fingers digging into the nape of your neck. He moved his kisses down your jaw, his tongue flat against the bone as he worked his way down your neck and along the top of the white towel that separated his mouth from his favourite part of you. A soft hand came up to the fold in the fabric and tugged at it, causing it to drop from your body and fall onto the cold marble beneath you. The sudden exposure made all the tiny hairs on your body stand on edge as Matt ogled your body, taking you in like it was the first time he was seeing you bare like that, not the hundredth.

"you're so fuckin' sexy" he uttered, shaking his head in disbelief at the sight of your still slightly wet skin glistening for him.

You rested back on the palms of your hands and spread your legs wider for him, giving him a full view of your pretty pussy that was already slick to the touch. A hungry grunt left his throat at the sight of you baring yourself to him, and without hesitation, Matt dropped to his knees and hooked your legs over his shoulders, pressing bruises into the soft, squishy skin.

You squealed slightly as he tugged at your thighs, bringing your throbbing core only centimetres away from his face. He licked his lips like an animal spotting its prey and leaned forward, pressing a soft and sloppy kiss onto your clit. your back arched into the pressure of his tongue against you as he started lapping at your soaked core, moaning at the taste of you on his lips. Your fingers raked through his hair and tugged at the root, pushing him further into you as your hips involuntarily bucked into his face, grinding against his mouth as he worked his tongue over your weeping pussy.

His hand snaked its way down your leg, his blunt fingernails scratching down your skin as he brought his digits to to just below his chin, rubbing small circles at your entrance with the tip of his long finger, teasing your walls as they clenched around nothing, desperate for him to give you what he knows you want.

"mhph, Matt, please" you whined with furrowed brows, hips slowly grinding against his face.

Matt looked up at you with smiling, prideful eyes, dipping his middle finger into your soaked hole just enough to elicit a broken moan from your throat. As your walls loosened their grip around his finger, he slipped his ring finger inside, pushing them both in to the knuckle as he sucked on your clit, eyes still baring up into you as your head hung loose on your neck.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a steady pace, but his pace on your clit was fierce, as if he was attempting to suck the air from your lungs out from of your pussy.

Your high was fast approaching, and your whole body began to tense above him, your legs unintentionally closing shut around his head. Matt didn't care, he wanted you to close him in, keep him there for the rest of time so he could make you cum all over his face over and over again until you felt as if you could pass out from exhaustion.

His fingers began to curl up into that blissful sweet spot, your stomach tensed in response and he knew you were close to coming undone. He slurped and lapped at your folds, his tongue dipping between them to catch the very centre of your clit, toying with the nub as he relentlessly filled your walls with his long fingers.

"Oh, fuck, Matt" the pressure of his tongue against you was euphoric, and a wave of tingles covered every inch of your body.

Your walls were a vice around his fingers and, with a tantalising suck on your sensitive nub, you released warm cum all over his hand. You shook above him, your vision going blurry as he continued to devour you, bringing you to a white hot level of ecstasy that left you a blubbering, whimpering mess on the bathroom counter.

When your legs stopped tensing and hung lazily over his shoulders, Matt pulled his fingers from you, licking them clean just before placing a soft peck on your puffy clit. The feeling made you jolt and he chuckled, his warm breath acting as a soothing wind to your sensitive pussy.

Matt got to his feet, his hands instantly gripping at your thighs to wrap you around him once again. He kissed you like he was a man eating his last meal, the taste of yourself still heavy on his tongue as it pressed and pushed against yours.

"taste that, pretty girl? you're beautiful even down to the sweetness of your perfect pussy" He pulled away from you, to say just before biting down on your parted bottom lip

The small, jealous comments that went over your head;

You, the boys and a few of your mutual friends were in a bar somewhere in downtown LA. Your hands were pressed against the wood of the bar as you waited to be served, the crowds of people surrounding you making you somewhat invisible to the bartender who, famously served all the influencers first and annoyingly ignored anyone who didn’t have a brand deal or over a million followers.

“Hey gorgeous” an unfamiliar voice disturbed your failed attempt to order a round for your table.

You looked to the side, and were met with the glaring stare and bitten lip of yet another guy who wanted to buy you a drink and disappoint you sexually.

“Hi” you said, turning your attention away from him just as fast as he caught it.

“Can I just say, you’re the hottest chick in this whole bar” he rested a sweaty hand on your shoulder.

You shrugged off his touch and looked back to him, “thanks” you said quickly, instantly skeeved out by the feeling of his hand on your skin.

“Let me buy you a drink” he said in what seemed like his attempt at a seductive tone, bringing his hand back up to you and pushing your hair off your shoulder, letting it fall down your back.

“I’m good, dude, I’m just trying to get a round for me and my friends” you shifted away from him.

He edged closer to you, running his fingers down your arm and grasping at your hand,

“I can get the round, I’ve got money like that, baby”

The name made you feel physically sick, and before you could open your mouth to tell him to kindly fuck off, the comforting sound of Matts voice rang through your ears.

“You good, y/n/n?” He said, coming up next to you and wrapping a tight hand around your waist, pulling you into him, his eyes never leaving the meathead trying to touch his girl.

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy said, instantly squaring up to Matt.

“S’not important, dude, jus’ leave her alone, yeah?” He said, shifting slightly towards the guy, his hand never leaving your waist.

“What are you, her boyfriend or something?” He laughed, pressing firm fingers into Matts shoulder.

Matt chucked at the attempt to rile him up, pulling his arm from your waist and planting himself directly in front of the dickhead that just pushed his shoulder.

Your hand pressed against his chest, bringing him back down to reality as he looked down into your soft, sparkle covered eyes.

“Don’t” you said, applying a warm pressure to his sternum.

His jaw clenched as his heart rate slowed, the feeling of your hand against his chest a soothing balm to the burning rage that had ignited in him.

“Fuck off, dude, m’not interested in whatever you think you’re gonna get out of this” you said, pushing Matt behind you and giving the creep the dirtiest look you could muster up.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, “whatever, bitch, you’re ugly as fuck anyway” he said as he sulked away.

“Oh, I’m gonna break his fuckin’ jaw” Matt said, attempting to slip out from behind you and follow the guy through the bar.

“Matt” you said, grabbing his hand, “leave it” you said, pulling him back to you, catching his eye-line, “I’m fine, okay? He’s irrelevant”.

He stood a few feet away from you with a clenched jaw, his hand still in yours as you glared at him. He rolled his eyes and returned to your side.

“Kids just asking to get his shit rocked” he huffed, resting a protective hand on the base of your spine.

“I'm sure someone will knock him out at some point” you said, a smirk forming on your face as you returned your attention to the bar tender.

“I could have blinded him just for talking to you” he muttered, watching as the same guy sauntered over to other helpless victim.

“Fuckin’ idiot thinks he has a chance in hell, tryna hold your hand and shit” he scoffed, “dickhead” Matt spat, finally tearing his eyes off the guy.

You peered up at Matt and he met your gaze, a soft smile forming on his lips at the sight of you. You chuckled and shook your head, and just as you were about to tell him how sexy he is when he’s angry, you were interrupted by the bartender.

“What can I get for you?”

The lingering touches when you were with your friends;

You were all hanging out at the boys’ house, watching films and talking about nothing, and everything. You were perched on the sofa, both of your legs tucked under yourself as you lazily scrolled on your phone. Matt was next to you, his legs in a wide man-spread as his back rested against the plush sofa cushions. His arm was rested against the back of the couch behind you, a comfortable warmth engulfing you just enough to not rouse any suspicion.

His fingers absentmindedly traced he curve of your bare shoulder as he joked with Nate and Chris, all three of them laughing about something you weren’t listening to.

“Y/n/n” Nick said from the kitchen, bringing your attention away from your phone, “can you come help me with this, I’m so fucking confused” he said, holding a cookie ingredient box in his hands, reading the back with furrowed brows.

You looked over Matts shoulder towards the kitchen and let out a short chuckle, “Yeah, sure”. You shifted, and placed your feet on the floor, using Matts leg to help you up from your comfortable position on the sofa.

The pressure of your hand against his leg went straight to his crotch, and as if on instinct, his hand met yours on his thigh for a moment as you pushed yourself up. You turned to look down at him over your shoulder as your hand slipped from under his, he looked at you like you were the only person in the room and you returned the favour, padding away from him and facing your attention towards Nick, who was standing, baffled in the kitchen over the instructions that ‘made no fucking sense’.

His desperation for you after being apart for any longer than a couple days;

“Fuck, angel, I missed your pussy so fuckin’ much” Matt grunted into your neck as he pounded into you, slow and hard, sucking on the curve of your jaw and occasionally biting down on your soft skin.

Your moaned at his words, legs wrapped tight around him with your feet locked at his waist, your hands clawed at his back as he stretched you out, the sensation of him relentlessly hammering into you completely overwhelming your senses. The weight of his body against yours was blissful, his warm skin pressed against yours as you kissed and sucked at his shoulder, desperate to feel every part of him against every part of you. His hands were pressing bruises into every inch of your skin, the feeling of you clenching around him sending him into ecstasy as he thrust in and out of your sopping pussy.

“Y’so fuckin’ perfect, literally perfect, this pussy was made f’me, made jus’ f’me” he was rambling, desperate to let you know how much he had missed you.

“Mphm, Matt, don’t stop, please, don’t stop” you whined as he hit that gummy spot deep inside you, his dick nestling perfectly inside your slick walls.

“Keep saying my name like that, please baby, say it again f'me” He said, craning his neck up to look down at you, his eyes fluttery at the heavenly feeling of being completely surrounded by you.

“Matt” you moaned, throwing your head back as he thrust deeper inside of you, the soft pressure of the top of his pelvis periodically pressing against your puffy clit.

Matt groaned, dipping his head down to capture your neck in a tingling bite, just before soothing the sting with a warm and flat tongue.

“Ugh, Matt” you whimpered, squeezing your legs tighter round him, your hands finding his sweaty curls.

Matt near enough growled into your skin, picking up his pace as he hungrily fucked you with unwavering force into his bed. The sting of your fingers pulling his hair, coupled with the pulsating heat of your throbbing pussy sent him over the edge. With a loud grunt and stuttering hips, he came harder than he had in weeks, his vision going blurry as he nestled himself further into the crook of your neck, biting down on the fleshy meat of your shoulder. He slowed his pace completely, slowly fucking his cum into you until he felt paralysed by your warmth.

“Jesus Christ” he uttered into your hair.

You peppered kisses along his broad shoulder and up his neck, biting at his earlobe, earning an involuntary buck of his hips into your cum soaked hole. He begrudgingly pulled out of you, his soft dick hanging down between his legs as he fell down on top of you, his crushing body weight making you sink into the mattress. Your hands played with his hair as he caught his breath, head rested on your bare chest and hands rubbing at your boiling skin.

“Take it you missed me then?” You muttered, enamoured with his tired and fucked out frame lazily pressed against you.

He simply nodded against your skin, bringing a large hand up to palm the curve of your breast. “S’much” he said, just before taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking on it with vigour.

You giggled at the sensation, shifting under him slightly as he pressed his already hardening dick against your thigh.

“Matt” You laughed, squirming under his touch.

In one swift movement, he flipped you both over so that you were ontop of him, your wet pussy pressed against the base of his sticky cock.

“Need more, princess, now, please” Matt said, a spread hand coming up your spine and he brought you down to him. His hand gripped the back of your neck as he kissed you like he was starved of your touch.

“m’never gonna get enough a’you” He moaned into the kiss, the feeling of your folds brushing up and down his stiff cock sending him into heavenly overstimulation.

The final beat of the song brought you back to reality,

and before you realised it, you were back at your apartment, pulling into your parking lot and making your way up to your empty home.

Your apartment was covered with Matt; a spare pair of his dirty, beat up airforces sat next to your messy array shoes by the front door, dried out flowers in jars were scattered around your whole apartment, all ones he had gotten you for birthdays or special achievements, or just because he saw them and thought of you. His jackets were hung up on your hooks, and his shirts were thrown lazily into your laundry baskets. Cards and notes were littered on your fridge and window sills, all just little messages he’d leave you throughout your entire friendship, even before you started sleeping together.

You kicked off your shoes and padded over to the fridge to get some water, old photos and memories stared back at you. Your fingers wrapped around the handle of the door, but your arm didn’t budge, your attention was fixated on the array of photos stuck to the fridge.

You had a photo of you and the boys when you were younger, your mum had found it when she was clearing out some old stuff and you simply had to steal it from her albums. There was another photo that Nick had taken at some party you don’t really remember and then there were two photos of you and Matt. One of them was a photo booth picture from some influencer thing he dragged you to, and the other was from your birthday last year. Just below the pictures, Matt had stuck a note under the floral magnet, you had no idea when he did it and honestly didn’t even notice it until that very moment. The note read, ‘hi, you’re pretty, have a nice day’ in what looked like his best attempt to have neat hand writing.

You glanced over the photo from your birthday, it was just after you guys had started seeing each other, and the boys had decided celebrating your birthday away from LA was non negotiable, so you all went home to Boston and had a proper family birthday. It was perfect, and for that short week, everything in your life felt like it was finally falling into place. Tears began to prick at your puffy eyes once more as you stared at the picture, his strong arms wrapped around your shoulders, a cheesy grin spread across your face as he made one of his usual silly faces for the lens of Nicks camera.

Your heart sunk in your chest, and for the first time since you met Matt all those years ago, you felt completely alone. You had done the one thing you were the most afraid of being done to you; you had walked out on him, without even stopping to tell him why. You had acted like everything you hated, and the shame you felt, coupled with a deep sadness and a looming feeling of heavy regret were all only exacerbated by the fact that, the only person you wanted to speak to about how you were feeling, was Matt.

Back at his house, Matt was in his living room, sat across from his brothers, his elbows rested on his wide knees as his head hung on his neck, resting in his palms.

“You and y/n have been… fucking?” Chris said, fully spread across the sofa as he stared at Matt in bewilderment.

“Don’t say it like that, Chris” Nick hit Chris on the chest, turning back to Matt and perching his head on his hand, looking at him with soft features that reassured Matt that he was listening, “carry on, Matt” he said.

“It um— it started about six months ago, after Quens’ birthday party, d’you remember?” He said, brushing his hair out his face with a huff.

“Oh, yeah, I remember that, you guys ended up kissing during that weird card game, right?” Nick said, recounting his hazy memories from the party.

Matt nodded, rubbing the back of his neck, “We ended up sleeping together that night, I brought her back here and she snuck out in the morning before you guys woke up”

“You sneaky motherfucker, if this whole situation wasn’t depressing as fuck I’d be so proud of you dude.” Chris leant forward and grabbed Matts shoulder, shaking him slightly and beaming at him, trying to coax a smile out of him.

A lazy smile creeped its way onto Matts face as Chris patted his back, that alone was enough to let him know that behind his sad eyes, Matt was still in there somewhere.

“Wait, so, what happened? Why did she suddenly decide that she doesn’t want to see you anymore?” Nick pushed, just as confused as his younger brother.

“I’ve got no fuckin’ idea, one minute we were fine, just chilling and watching gravity falls, and the next, she won’t even look at me” Matt sighed, his voice cracking as he spoke. He threw himself back onto the sofa and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his hands, groaning and trying not to cry.

Chris and Nick shared a worried look, furrowed brows and concerned eyes pouring into each other as they both returned their attention to Matt, who was still shifting in his skin, the most worked up they’ve seen him in, well, in six months actually.

“Hey, kid, it’s gonna be okay, okay?” Chris placed a comforting hand on Matts knee, squeezing it slightly, “we’ve known her for like literally forever, whatever it is, I’m sure she’ll figure it out and come back”

“Yeah” Nick said, moving to sit on the other side of Matt, “maybe she’s just having a moment or something? You know how she gets sometimes” he reassured Matt with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’m just—she jus’—I just don’t understand” Matt shook his head, hands raking down his face as frustrated tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Hey” Chris said gently, his voice wavering at the sight of Matt nearly crying, “Its okay, bro, you’ll figure it out, and besides even if you never get to fuck her again, I’m sure you’ll always be best friends”

“Chris” Nick said quietly through gritted teeth, his hand gently rubbing Matts shoulder as he shot Chris a glaring look.

“What?” Chris replied, innocently, not understanding what he said wrong.

Matts head rolled against the back of the sofa, he let out a small chuckle and shook his head, a groan slipping from his lips, “I don’t care if I never get to sleep with her again dude, I jus’—“ he sighed, “I think I’m in love with her” he closed his eyes and squeezed his back teeth together, clenching his jaw as a throttling wave of sadness came over him, “and now I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to tell her”

In the month between you walking out and you both crashing back into each other,

you didn’t see Matt or the boys once. You completely isolated yourself, refusing to even think about what had happened. The night you came home, after hours of crying in the shower and wanting the world to swallow you hole, you decided that simply forgetting it ever happened was the best plan of action. If it never happened, then it didn’t need to matter. But it did happen, and it did matter and you became a shell of yourself, existing on auto pilot everyday.

All you did was work and sleep, your social life becoming quickly non existent without the boys to coax you into actually leaving the house. You stopped replying to anyones messages in the first week, turning off all notifications and letting the little red bubble get longer and longer as the messages piled up in your phone. Everyday you managed to get yourself out of bed was a miracle, and if you showered and brushed your hair, it should have counted as an eighth wonder of the world. Your life had become an agonising picture coloured by shades of grey, all of the colour being stripped from your world when you slammed the door in your best friends face.

You couldn’t understand why you couldn’t just call him, tell him that you were sorry, that you freaked out and acted like a fucking idiot, and that all you’ve ever wanted is for him to be around forever, in whatever shape that may take. You loved him, you had loved him since you were a child, but having sex with him, and being his in those fleeting moments of passion made you fall in love with him, and the thought of that made you feel like you were driving down the highway on the wrong side, cars flying towards you at a hundred miles per hour as someone blindfolded you and told you to keep driving. But not because of him, he was perfect. He was one of the only people in the world who you really trusted, who you knew you could always rely on no matter what and no questions asked. It was because of you, something inside of you felt broken, and you had no idea how to fix it.

Matt wasn’t doing any better;

Unless he had to film or take a meeting, he barely left his room. He pushed away any attempt from his brothers to talk about you or what had happened since the night he told them about the two of you, not wanting to be reminded of the agonising feeling that had wedged itself between his ribs since the night you left.

His temper was shorter than ever, constantly snapping at one of the boys for tiny things and losing his shit every time a minor inconvenience happened. His parents got word of the fact that you two had stopped talking and tried to be there for him, your mum too, but he pushed everyone away. No one had the ability to crawl inside his brain and plant flowers in his weeds like you did, and he knew that, so he didn’t see the point in letting anyone even try.

After a certain point he stopped talking to everyone, only interacting with Chris or Nick when he really needed to and ignoring all the calls from Nate, his parents or Justin. He just wanted to be left alone, because at least then his reality would reflect how he felt. You had left a gaping hole in his life and slowly but surely, he was falling deeper and deeper into the dark abyss of that hole, letting the heavy sadness consume him with reluctant acceptance.

Despite his temper and moping about, his brothers never stopped trying;

A soft tap rattled his door, and a few seconds after, it creaked open, letting in a slither of light into his dark bedroom.

“Matt? We’re gonna go get wing stop, d’you wanna come?” Chris said softly, peering his head through the crack in the door.

Matt didn’t respond, he was tucked up to his neck in his duvet in his dark room, the only light in the room being that of his low brightness computer screen playing an array of depressing songs on loop and the light that Chris had welcomed in when he opened the door.

“Matt, dude, you haven’t left your room in days, you gotta eat something” Chris sighed, his refusal to accept this new version of Matt apparent.

Matt simply turned away from the door, turning his back to Chris in a silent ‘fuckin’ leave me alone’. Chris huffed, shaking his head and clicking the door shut.

Nothing was working, and they had no idea if he was ever going to be okay again. Normally, he would mope about for a couple days and then be back to his usual silly, kind self. But this was different, he seemed completely void of anything that made Matt, Matt.

Nick was fed up of his behaviour, and despite Chris’ constant battle with him over ‘just giving it time’, Nick knew, as his older brother and best friend, that it had all gone too far. So he took matters into his own hands.

That night, Nick got an uber to your apartment,

knowing it was your day off work and that you were almost definitely in the same position as Matt; not leaving your house or talking to anyone.

The uber pulled up next to your apartment block and he got out the car, striding up the stairs to the entrance and relentlessly pounded against your front door. The sound made you jump in your skin, pulling your attention away from the last episode of season two of gravity falls, a show that hadn’t left your tv in weeks. When you didn’t answer the door to the first round of banging, it started again and you reluctantly pushed yourself off your sofa and walked over to the door as it vibrated on its hinges.

“Okay, okay, m’coming, Jesus Chris” you groaned.

When you opened the door, you were met with a face you hadn’t seen in weeks.

“Nick?” Your face dropped in confusion.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, y/n/n” he started sounding off immediately, pushing himself into your apartment.

“wha—“ you started to speak, but were immediately cut off.

“In what universe is it okay to just go completely ghost on your best fucking friend? What the fuck were you thinking? Matt has been in a shit state since you ran out that night and I’m fuckin’ sick of it! He’s angry at everyone, he’s nearly gotten in actual fights with me and Chris about a thousand times and he’s even stopped talking to our parents. Our parents y/n.” Nicks face was nearly bright red with anger as he paced around your apartment.

“Nick, I—“ you folded your arms over your chest, his words hitting you like bullets of reality.

“No. I’m not finished.” He held his hand up to stop you speaking, “I don’t know what the fuck happened between the two of you, but you need to sort it out, because I can’t sit here and watch this all unfold anymore. I think what you fail to remember, is that despite the fact that you were fucking him, he was also supposed to be your best friend. We all were. When you walked out on him, you also walked out on me and Chris. You left us all high and dry without a single explanation and zero entrance back into your life to try and figure out what the fuck happened.” Nick finished his rant and took a deep inhale, his first real breath since he stepped foot in your apartment.

The apartment was silent for a moment, you not knowing whether or not he was finished. “Can I speak now?”

“G’head” Nick replied, raising a hand, gesturing you to say your part.

“I’m sorry that I walked out.” You said, it being the only thing you could think to say in that moment, “I didn’t know he was going through all of that” you said, averting your gaze to the floor.

Nick chuckled in disbelief, “cut the shit, y/n/n” he said, “you know what he’s like, probably better than anyone. You know because you’re exactly the same, I mean, look at you, you look like shit” he said, not holding back, then again, when did he ever.

You looked back up at him and couldn’t help but chuckle as his insult, “What are you talking about? M’fine” you shrugged.

“Yeah sure you are, kid” Nick rolled his eyes, taking a few steps forward and lingering just in front of you.

“Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, and honestly I don’t really care. But I do care about him, and I care about you, and I know that this is killing you as much as its killing him. so just stop being a fucking idiot and go tell him that you love him, because I’m tired of his stinking fuckin’ attitude and I miss you, I miss my best friend, we all do, Matt more than anyone” he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, his warm skin pulling a single brick from the dam that had all your crippling emotions stuffed behind it.

Tears brimmed at your eyes and Nick sighed, bringing you into an all encompassing hug, holding your head against his chest as you sobbed into him. He held you like that for a while, letting you cry in his arms as he cooed and rubbed the back of your head in the gentle embrace you were wrapped in. When you finally stopped shaking, you pulled away from him, wiping your tears and looked up at him through wet lashes.

“What if he hates me?” You sniffled, your voice still shaky.

Nick shook his head with a breathy laugh out his nose, “I don’t think he could hate you even if he wanted to, you’re everything to him”

You and Nick shared another hug before he said he had to go and meet everyone in the city, asking you if you wanted to come and not pressing when you shook your head no, telling him you just needed to be alone. He left and you were alone again, your mind now racing with everything he had said, his words giving you the reality check you needed.

Back at the boys' house,

Matt was padding around the kitchen, he had left his room about ten minutes after he heard the front door click shut and he knew he was alone. As he shuffled around in the cupboards looking for a bowl for his hundredth meal of instant noodles, the front door slammed shut, and a burning annoyance filled his entire body. Chris came bounding up the stairs, seemingly in a hurry, but stopped in his tracks at the sight of Matt, actually out of his bedroom.

“Oh, you’re up, I jus’ came back ‘cause I forgot my wallet” he said, grabbing his wallet off the table.

Matt didn’t respond, he didn’t even acknowledge Chris’ presence.

Chris went to leave, rolling his eyes and not even attempting to bother trying anymore but, in true Chris fashion, he was determined to find his brother inside this strange ghost that had infiltrated his home.

“Look, dude, I know you’re hurting, trust me I get it but, you can’t keep letting this bring you down forever. There has to be a point were you realise that this isn’t healthy” He sighed, walking back to stand next to the table. “I know you love her, and I know that this whole situation is killing you, but maybe if you jus —“ he sighed, “maybe if you jus fuckin’ speak to her then you can sort all of this out, she can come back and everything can be normal again, ‘cause, its hard as fuck seeing you like this man and, even though I don’t love her like you do, I miss her too, she’s been around forever and it feels like we're a table missing a fuckin’ leg or some shit so, jus’ speak to her. what’s the harm in just trying, y’know?”

Matt, with his back still to Chris, shifted where he stood slightly, opening his mouth to reply but swallowed his words.

Chris sighed and shook his head, turning on the balls of his feet and running down the stairs. The slam of the front door echoed through the house, and Matt was soon left with the deafening silence left by Chris’ absence.

His brothers words ran laps around his mind, he knew he was right, this couldn’t go on forever, and he should just speak to you, but how was he even supposed to begin to try? Was he supposed to just show up at your apartment, tell you how he was dying inside, how this past month had been the hardest of his entire life and that he had missed you every single second of every day that passed painstakingly slowly? Was he supposed to just show up at your home, grab you by the face and tell you that he loved you and that he never wanted to be without you ever again? As the rapid thoughts bounced like pinballs against the walls of his skull, he realised that, that was exactly what he was going to do.

He slammed the cupboard door shut and strode over to the table, picking his keys up and near enough sprinting down the stairs, not even stopping to put shoes on as he pulled the front door open and stepped out in front of his house.

As he stepped out into his front yard, his heart fell down into his stomach at the sight of your shadowy frame, standing just a few feet from his front door, arms crossed over your pyjama top clad chest. He was paralysed, he didn’t know if he was dreaming or, if somewhere between the kitchen and the door he fell over and cracked his head open.

“Y/n” he choked out, it being the only thing he could muster up in that moment.

“Hi” you said in a small voice, a shy smile finding your lips at the sound of him saying your name.

Matt couldn’t move, feeling as though the ground had grown hands that had wrapped themselves around his ankles. You made the first move, taking a step into the light, the orange street lamp illuminating your features. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight of you, your beautiful face in his sights again after what felt like an eternity.

You walked closer to him, warmth radiated off him as he stared down at you with a slightly parted mouth. Neither of you spoke, you had no idea what to say, you just stared into each other for that long moment, the world shifting on its axis around you as suddenly, face to face like this, you felt like the only two people in the entire universe. Your eyes flitted between his, your lips periodically getting caught between your teeth as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

Matts eyes explored your face, as if he was memorising every inch of it incase it was the last time he was seeing you, incase this wasn’t real and he was asleep in his dark room. His gaze flitted to your plump lips and it sent a twinge up your spine, and without thinking, you latched your hands round the back of his head and pulled him down into you in a feverish, desperate kiss. He returned the kiss almost immediately, his hands slipping round your waist and pulling you into him in a frenzied attempt to feel you close to him again.

“I thought you said we weren’t gonna do this anymore” He said through frantic breaths, his lips still brushing yours.

“So” Matt pulled away for a brief moment, missing the heat from your plump lips and kissing you before he spoke again, “what’re we doin” he panted.

“Just shut up and kiss me, Matt” you shook your head, wrapping your hand round the back of his head, nearly giving him whiplash at the speed you pull his lips back to yours.

He kissed you back hungrily, groaning into your mouth as he pushed you backwards onto his bed. You hit the bed with a small whimper as his mouth detached from yours, his tongue flattening against your neck, then your chest, then your stomach and then back up the way he came.

Your hands latched onto his curls as your back arched at the sensation of his mouth against you for the first time in what felt like forever. He moaned against your skin, grinding his hard cock into your desperate core, your clothes creating a frustrating amount of friction between the two of you.

He bucked his hips into yours, your legs tightening around his waist with every thrust. You were desperate, and he was starved of you. His large came to your open shirt and pushed it down over your shoulder, his perfect teeth clamping down on your soft skin. His mouth found the curve of your tit, pulling the lacy fabric of your bralette down to expose your hardened nipple to him. With one hand on your waist, and his mouth latched around your nipple, Matt groaned into your skin. Your head rolled back at the sensation of his warm tongue on you, your whole body felt like it was on fire as his touch became feverish.

"Matt, please, please, I need it, I need you" you whined, you weren't sure what you were begging for but the pleads spilled from your mouth almost on instinct.

Matt removed his mouth from you and tugged at your shirt, you shifted slightly to assist him as he threw it across the room. He palmed the flesh of your half exposed tits, growing frustrated at the sight of the baby blue lace of your bralette that kept him from seeing you completely. With one swift rip, he tore the flimsy fabric open at the seams, leaving it in scraps on his mattress. The vision of your heaving chest incited something animalistic in him and he instantly dove down, latching his mouth around you once more.

The moan that left your throat was guttural, your back arching off the bed as his hand slipped down between the two of you, skipping the teasing and heading straight for your throbbing clit. The tip of his middle finger found your nub instantly and without hesitation, he set an agonising pace, rubbing blissful circles over it as his tongue continued to work your nipple. He moved his hand down, swiping his ring and middle through your sopping wet folds. Your toes curled at the feeling and with that, Matt inserted his long fingers into your tight hole.

The feeling of you clenching around his fingers made his stomach tense, a deep, hungry moan leaving his mouth and vibrating around your tit. Your thighs clenched around his wrist, he brought his knee to yours and pushed your legs open with brute force, pinning you open for him as he made his way down your skin with wet and sloppy kisses. As he moved, he pulled down your pyjama bottoms and panties, the cold air peppering goosebumps all over your skin as he slowly exposed you to him.

You were completely bare, spread out on his bed. He got to his feet, knees resting on the edge of the bed as he gawked down at you, his chest heaving in anticipation at the sight of you like this for him, something he thought he'd never see again.

"are you sure y'wanna do this?" he said, removing his hands from you completely.

"Matt, you're the only thing I've ever been sure about in my entire life" you panted, sitting up, placing your hand on his chest and leaning up into him.

His fingers pressed against your core once more, attaching his lips to yours as you wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.

"I've missed you, so fuckin' much" Matt confessed into the kiss, pushing you further up the bed as he crawled between your open legs.

Your hands came to the waistband of his joggers and pushed them down with desperation, moaning into the messy kiss as he thrust his slender fingers in and out of you at a tormenting pace. You wrapped your hand around his cock and he bucked into your touch, chasing the feeling of you pumping him. He broke the kiss with a breathy whine, head dropping to the crook of your neck as he assisted you in lining his throbbing length up with your sopping hole. He pulled his fingers from you and rubbed small circles over your clit, you pressed his leaking tip against your hole.

Matt moaned your name, the feeling of your wet pussy so close to being around him making his vision go blurry.

His hand came to your face, pressing bruises into your cheek as he shifted you both to lay on your sides, facing each other. He moved his hand down, lifting your leg and hooked it over his waist, pulling you into him with such force that a short squeal left your lips. You continued pumping him, rubbing his tip through your folds, when you brushed him back over your hole, Matt bucked his hips, the sting of him stretching you out for a brief second inciting throaty moans from the both of you.

Once he had a taste, he was lost in it, and Matt pushed himself inside of you again, this time allowing himself to bottom out in your gummy, soaked walls. Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, your forehead pressing against his as he breathed desperate moans into your open mouth.

"Jesus christ you feel so fuckin' good" Matt whined, thrusting into you with one hand tucked between your face and his pillow, and the other on your thigh, the pressure of his touch sure to leave bruises behind.

He was bottoming out completely as your pussy milked him, clenching around his hard cock, and you felt as if you could cum from the sensation of his touches alone. Your whole body was tingling, every inch of your skin on fire with pure bliss as he fucked up into you at a steady pace.

"Matt, go faster, please" You whimpered, clawing at the back of his neck, tugging at the messy curls that gathered there.

He didn't need to be told twice, with a low growl, Matt set a rapid pace, fucking into you like it was the last thing he would ever do. Your moans were pornographic, the sting of his skin slapping against yours, coupled with the blissful stretch of your pussy around his cock sending you into a deep state of euphoria.

Matt grunted repeatedly, moaning your name over and over again as he fucked into you desperately. His moans made your ears ring, you brought a hand down in between you both and collected some of the juices that leaked from your pussy onto his cock, moving your fingers up to rub rapid circles across your puffy clit.

Matt grunted at the sight, his grip on your skin turning to blunt nailed scratches as he hardened his thrusts, pounding into you relentlessly as you worked your clit.

"keep doing that, angel, keep doing that for me, you feel so fucking good clenching around me like this, jesus christ, you're so fucking sexy when you touch yourself for me" he was rambling, completely consumed by the sight of you, the feeling of you milking his cock bringing him closer and closer to his release.

"fuck, Matt, m'gonna cum, m'gonna cum" you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes as he fucked into you at a rapid pace. the sensation of his merciless grip on your skin coupled with the stimulation of your throbbing clit making you see stars.

"cum for me, angel, cum f'me, I'm right there with you, m'right there with you" his words were almost incoherent.

The sound of him telling you to cum was enough to send you tumbling down into ecstasy, and he was right behind you. The vice grip your clenching pussy had around his cock was incredible, and wet sounds of your cum releasing all over his length filled the air as his pace became sloppy, chasing his high as he stuttered inside of you.

"Fuck, Matt" you cried out, and the sound of you crying out his name sent him over the edge.

He released threads of ropy cum into your gaping hole, fucking his seed into you as his movements began to slow.

Your breathless pants filled the room as you both came down from your highs, foreheads pressed against each others, sharing oxygen as your leg remained wrapped around his waist. His hand caressed the side of your face, pushing your hair out the way to look at your pretty, fucked out face.

When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you and the feeling of his eyes baring into yours made your skin hot.

“Hi” you smiled.

“Hey” He cheesed back, rubbing small circles on your warm cheeks.

After a brief moment of loving stares, reality set in, and you remembered the agonising events that led you to being here, tangled up with him like this. The dark circles around Matts eyes that mimicked your own broke your heart, and in that moment, you couldn't bare the thought of never being away from him ever again.

“I um—I’m really sorry, Matt.” Your smile dropped into a sincere, pleading expression.

“You don’t have to apologise to me, y/n” Matt shook his head against the pillow.

“No, I —“ you sat up, resting on your elbow to look down at him. His hand on your cheek didn’t falter and you pressed your head into his touch with closed eyes, “I do. I’m so fucking sorry, Matt. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I—I just freaked out because you called me baby and I —“ your rambling was cut off by his voice.

“Wait” he said, shifting to rest against his headboard, letting his hand drift down the soft skin of your arm, “all of this, was because I called you baby?” He asked through a short, baffled laugh.

You nodded, some what embarrassed, sitting up completely in front of him, taking his large hand in yours and toying with the rings on his fingers.

“But, I called you baby all the time” Matt chuckled, grasping your hand in his and gaining your attention back to his soft eyes.

“I know, it just— it freaked me out because I think I realised in that moment that I was in love with you and, I just didn’t know how to handle that” you looked away from him again, the weight of your confession making your voice crack.

Matts ears began to ring, “You’re in love with me?” He questioned, thinking his mind was playing tricks on him.

You locked eyes with him again, he looked so soft, his kind eyes almost sparkling with happiness at your words, “yeah, I'm in love you, Matt” you nodded, “I am, and I — I tried to ignore it, I tried to push it down and forget about it but, I couldn’t, I don’t know how to forget you”

Matt didn’t say anything, he felt as though all the words in the English language were ripped from his brain as you told him you loved him for the second time. He simply starred at you in awe, your hand firm in his grip.

“Can you say something, please” you said, your eyes flitting away from his for a second before returning to their prior position.

“Y/n/n, I— I’ve been in love with you since we were ten years old” the words spilled from his mouth, a wave of utter relief washing over him at the feeling of finally admitting a fact he’s known for half his life.

“You have?” Your expression was pleading as your eyes widened at his confession.

“I’ve loved you more and more everyday I’ve known you, I just didn’t realise it until that night when— when we kissed” He said, sitting up and lingering inches away from your face. He brought his hand back up to your face, “You don’t know how to forget me?” He chuckled, “I couldn’t ever forget you, even if I tried, even if I wanted to” his lips brushing over yours softly as you breathed into his parted mouth.

You didn’t respond with words, instead, you pressed your lips against his with such force that it sent him back down to his satin pillow.

You were terrified, and completely enamoured by him. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and he loved you just the same. And despite the fact that the idea of being loved, truly loved, scared you beyond belief, you no longer felt like you were drowning. Because you knew that no matter what happened, Matt would always be there to dive into the rocky waters and pull you to the surface.

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slytherinslut0 · 2 months ago

Text

tom riddle. | everyone has their vices

summary: tom riddle tells you he jerks off (and more) to relieve stress. just….in typical tom fashion.

word count: 2k

tags: 18+, suggestive content, so much tension you’ll choke on it, frustrating subliminal tom riddle (though reader is just as stubborn), flirting, masturbation insinuation, make out sesh.

"But how?”

Tom inhaled sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he prepared to reexplain for what felt like the hundredth time. "Because, the slightest distraction or doubt can result in consequence—as I said previous. A momentary lapse in any of the areas we covered will result in splinching."

You blinked, staring at him like he'd spoken an alternate language. The late night and the relentless focus on Tom's face for the past four hours had blurred everything into a haze and dulled his voice into a monotonous hum, blending with the soft rustle of parchment and the distant lapping of the lake against the window. He could see it—your disconnection, the way his words slipped past you like water through fingers.

He exhaled, slumping back in his chair, a hand raking through his dark hair in frustration. "Should we call it a night?"

"Probably," you muttered, your gaze drifting to the window behind him, the surface of the Black Lake rippling under the moonlight. "You've overloaded my brain. I stopped comprehending two hours ago."

You felt Tom's eyes narrow slightly as he studied you—you must have looked a mess. Strands of hair had fallen out of your ponytail, your uniform shirt was half undone, and there was a dullness in your eyes that spoke of more than just exhaustion. A week bedridden with the flu had set you back, and now, despite Tom's best efforts, you felt like you were drowning.

He knew you were stressed beyond measure—you were normally not like this.

"You need to relax," he said, the words landing with the flatness of an undisputed fact. "You won't retain anything in the state you're in."

"How can I relax when I'm two weeks behind? And exams are next week?" Your voice cracked with the weight of your frustration as you leaned your elbows on his desk, burying your face in your hands. "I'm helpless, Tom. I know you know it."

"Would I be sitting here wasting my time if I thought you were helpless?" He watched you, almost clinical in his intensity as he spoke—tone matter-of-factly, devoid of any false comfort. It cut through your despair with ease. Tom Riddle never did anything without purpose; if he was here, it meant he believed you were worth the effort. "My suggestion is that you reset your brain," he continued, his voice steady like his fingers as he shut the textbook between you. "Take a walk. Have a cold shower. Jump in the lake. Whatever you need to do to decompress."

The simplicity of his suggestions almost made you laugh, but it was the kind of laughter that would easily turn into tears if you let it. Tom had a way of stripping everything down to its most basic form—of cutting through your stress and chaos and presenting you with a simple, unvarnished answer.

You were a mess, and he was telling you to fix it—no coddling, no pity, just a clear-eyed assessment of the situation. And somehow, that was exactly what you needed to hear. You appreciated him for it.

"Decompress, huh. I don't believe I've ever done such a thing." You leaned back in your chair with a lopsided grin, arms crossed. "Is that what you do? Jump in the lake?"

Tom let out a huff, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in what was almost—almost—a smile.

"Something like that."

Interesting—Tom Riddle, always so composed, every inch of him meticulously put together, as if the mere idea of stress was a foreign concept. You couldn't imagine him spiralling, not the way you did—frankly, you couldn't imagine him ever feeling overwhelmed at all.

The curiosity gnawed at you, wondering what he did to unwind—what rituals or habits did the untouchable Tom Riddle indulge in when no one was watching?

"Something else, then?" You pushed it further, gently, your eyebrow arching just slightly.

For a moment, his gaze flickered, something dark and inscrutable passing behind his eyes. You knew he was considering your words, debating whether to indulge your curiosity or keep you at arm's length. Such a fascinating creature he was—all brick walls and boarded windows—you had a feeling he was going to shut this down.

Until, he leaned forward.

"If you're asking if I have habits—I suppose I do," he said, your eyes drawn to the way his lips moved, the way his voice curled around each syllable. "Habitual things I do to—relax, let's say."

You hummed and pulled your lower lip between your teeth as you considered him—fighting to hide your amusement. That was the biggest personal moment you've had out of Tom Riddle since the day you met him in first year where he told you his name.

"Well, isn't that a revelation," you teased, toying with the edge of your skirt. "Just the mere insinuation that Tom Riddle has to do something to relax—as though he's not always cool, calm, and collected like he lets on."

His lips curled slightly at your words, his gaze dipping briefly from your eyes to your mouth, trailing lower in a slow, deliberate sweep that brushed over your chest before landing back on the desk.

Your brain buffered, tingles in the wake of his wrath. He picked up his quill, spinning it idly between his fingers.

"Everyone has their vices—if they don't, they end up like you," he said, his tone laced with an ambiguity that made you wonder just how deep his ran. "Perhaps it's time you found some."

You scoffed, leaning further back in your chair, the fabric of your shirt pulling tighter across your chest. You forced yourself to ignore the visceral reaction your body had as you caught the brief flicker in Tom’s gaze—the way his eyes darted up to the movement before he quickly masked his expression.

For a moment, you thought you might be imagining things, but the tensing of your thighs betrayed a reaction you couldn't quite shake.

"And what are yours?" You asked after a moment, your voice softer now. Tom Riddle was many things, but he was not a conversationalist—and yet here he was, indulging your curiosity instead of shutting it down. He was humouring you, and you intended to make the most of it. "Decompressing with bland tea and ancient tomes? Sneaking into the Restricted Section when no one's looking?"

“Mm, no.” Tom let out a snort, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips— "I’d say my vices are less...pedestrian, than all that."

The quill in his fingers stilled—the change in his demeanour was subtle, though you felt it in the air—electric, making your pulse quicken. He traced the edge of the feather with the tip of his thumb, the motion slow and deliberate, and you found yourself inexplicably distracted, fighting the urge to shift in your seat.

Why in Merlin's name was that so damn captivating?

"Less pedestrian?" You echoed, curiosity at an all-time-high. "What do you do, then, Tom? Dance naked by the light of the full moon?"

"I should hope not," he laughed—a low, rumbling sound that resonated in the pit of your stomach as you giggled alongside him. The quill twirled again in his fingers, the motion languid, almost hypnotic. "No, I'd say my vices are more...private. Less suited to polite company. Perhaps I should let you guess since the mystery of it seems to fascinate you so."

The look he gave you made you stiffen, a challenge—no, a dare—clear in his deep, dark eyes. Your thighs involuntarily reacted again—less suited to polite company?

"I believe I've already made several guesses," you tried to compose yourself with a shallow inhale. "I'm quite at a loss."

He shook his head, stifling his grin. "Clearly, you lack imagination."

"Clearly, you enjoy being cryptic." You shot back, unable to stifle yours.

At that, he hummed—it was obvious your stubbornness was as entertaining to him as it was aggravating. Perhaps you could say the same. He set the quill down, his eyes on yours as the fingers of his free hand began to tap idly on the desk—and then his gaze dipped again, tracing the curve of your lips before drifting lower, a slow, deliberate path that made you tense.

For a moment, you wondered if the tension in the air was all in your head. Was he always this adventurous with his eyes?

"When the mind is under strain," he began, his voice smooth, clinical, "it's a result of an excessive influx of neural signals. Synapses misfire, disrupting cognitive function. A basic physiological response." He watched your reaction closely, as though gauging the impact of his words. "To address such a state, one must reestablish control over these neural pathways. To be direct, I find the most efficacious methods involve tasks that stimulate the senses without being emotionally or physically taxing. A simple, repetitive action can suffice—something arbitrary enough to encourage the subconscious to lose focus."

You fought the urge to scowl at his change in speech—Tom knew damn-well just how overwhelmed your brain was—and then continued to recite scientific jargon as if it were his full-time occupation.

You’d almost be mad if it weren’t for the fucking words that stuck to the inside of your ears—stimulate, repetitive, lose focus—

"You're a walking textbook, aren't you?" You continued to play it off—you didn't want to make assumptions—you hated the way he danced around the edges of things, never quite saying what he meant. "Be specific."

Tom's grin grew as he leaned in slightly, his fingers stilling on the desk between you. "I find tasks that involve the hands particularly useful. Something that can be repeated in a smooth, steady rhythm, with little conscious thought required. The ability to lose oneself in the pattern is key."

Merlin help you—the atmosphere in his dorm had changed with those words; the air turned viscous, cloying, each breath sticking in your throat like syrup—hands, steady rhythm, lose oneself—the words pulsed with implication, even if it was buried under layers of his typical, infuriating ambiguity.

He was absolutely referring to—no—no assumptions—

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. "So...knitting?"

The words tumbled out, a weak attempt at humour to cut through the tension, but they hung lifeless in the air—as hollow as the chuckle that rumbled from Tom's chest.

His eyes traced over you, lingering in a way that made your skin prickle. "Not exactly."

"Hm. A different kind of needlecraft, perhaps." You shifted in your seat, trying to inject a semblance of nonchalance into your posture.

But you weren't fooling him—you never had—

"How much longer are you going to play coy?" He murmured, the amusement clear from light-years away.

Heat surged up your neck, the flush burning across your cheeks, betraying you—"how much longer are you going to continue holding your tongue?"

Your voice came out sharper than intended, laced with a challenge you barely felt capable of meeting. You and Tom had always been cordial, the slight suggestive comment here and there, mostly from your end. But this—oh, this was different—this was uncharted territory.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous purr. "Would you prefer I do something else with it?"

Oh, fuck yes you would—

"You're being obtuse," you practically choked out, though the words lacked the bite you intended. "Entirely vague."

"I'm being clear," he countered, his gaze never wavering. "But you're being obstinate—willfully ignorant to my meaning because you refuse to acknowledge it without me saying it outright."

The air between you dissipated—you tried to grasp for a coherent thought, something to regain your footing, but your mind faltered, stumbling over the implications of what he was saying. His eyes never left yours—and you watched them deepen in colour, black pupils eating away the rich brown of his irises, darkening with something that made the room feel unbearably small.

You could feel the heat rising in your body, pooling low in your belly. How did he do this to you? How did he turn you inside out with nothing more than words and that infuriating, knowing smile?

"Tell me," you breathed, hating how desperate the words sounded, "what do you do with your hands, Tom?...how do you use them to relieve...stress?"

The second those words left your lips you realized what was truly happening here—Tom Riddle never did anything without intent—every word, every pause, every smirk, was a thread in a web he was weaving, intricate and inescapable. He'd led you here, gently, subtly, with the barest hint of force, and now that you were caught, you realized that you wanted this.

Needed it.

And it was clear he did too. Otherwise you'd never have gotten to this point—he wanted you to push, to dig deeper—your stomach twisting as you watched Tom wet his lips, but there was no smirk on them this time.

Only something intense—jaw set, eyes focused—

"I think we both know what I do with my hands," he whispered, the double entendre clear in every syllable— "you knew exactly what I was insinuating the moment this started."

Your breath snagged in your throat, a tremor running through your entire body as the warmth pooling in your belly began to spread, sinking lower, threading through every nerve. Your vision narrowed, centering entirely on him—his eyes, the curve of his lips, the way his presence seemed to devour the room, leaving no space for anything else.

And then, you nodded, the movement barely there—a subtle acknowledgment of your understanding.

"Do you touch yourself, Tom?..." the words escaped you, a soft, breathy whisper that you could hardly believe were your own. "Or do you touch someone else?"

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze, suspended in the intensity of those questions.

The world narrowed to the point of his gaze, the sharp line of his jaw—the reality of where you were, what you were doing, almost seemed to blur—trapping you both in a moment that felt surreal, like a scene caught in the still frame of a film. Never—never—had you imagined a conversation like this with Tom Riddle, hardly your acquaintance, the untouchable genius of the school.

And yet here you were, heart pounding, every nerve on fire, and Merlin help you, you were going to wring every drop of this out for as long as you could.

He swallowed, and you watched the movement, entranced. "Depends on my level of stress."

Tom's expression was unreadable—except for the subtle tension in his shoulders as he leaned back, spreading his legs a fraction wider, the fabric of his dress shirt straining against the flex of his biceps—

"...and how stressed are you right now?" You whispered, reckless, without a trace of restraint.

Tom's throat bobbed with another swallow, a gesture so simple yet so charged that it sent your pulse roaring in your ears.

"Quite," he murmured, his voice taut, stretched thin. "The past four hours have been rather taxing—wouldn't you agree?”

A nervous laugh bubbled up, escaping before you could stop it. You tried to steady yourself, drawing in a slow, shaky breath. You had never felt so intensely aroused and frustrated in your life, and you knew, without a bloody doubt, that he was perfectly aware of it.

"Are you trying to imply l'm the cause of your stress?"

"On the contrary," he said, his gaze raking over you, his eyes dark and hungry, as if you were something to be consumed, devoured whole. "I'm saying you've exacerbated it. Though I'll concede a fair share of the responsibility—as it is mine, after all."

"How kind of you," you whispered, voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "To admit your own fault in the matter."

"I'm a kind man." His voice was a low purr, the kind that seeped into your bones, making your blood thrum with anticipation. "I like to take responsibility for my shortcomings."

Yes, yes—so very kind—

"Then take it."

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, a challenge thrown into the thick, suffocating air between you. The tension was a living thing now, colled tight, ready to snap, turning your insides into a churning mess of want and need.

Tom arched an eyebrow.

"Take it?" He echoed. "And what exactly do you want me to take, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart.

The pet name rolled off his tongue with a casual ease that sent a flush of heat straight to your core— the simple word wielded like a weapon, striking you down with its intimacy. There was no denying the power that name held over you, especially when coming from his lips.

"The responsibility..." you whispered, the words trembling as they left you, barely more than a breath. "…for your..." you hesitated, your eyes locked onto his as you finally said, "…shortcomings."

For a moment, everything hung in the balance—until, oxygen extinct, Tom leaned forward, closing the space between you until he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, mingling with your own.

Curse this fucking desk between you.

"My shortcomings," he repeated, his eyes flicking to your lips. "Is that all I should take responsibility for?"

"Are you suggesting..." you leaned in as well, the distance between you shrinking to a breath—your gaze drawn to his own mouth—the plush of it, how bad you wanted to feel it against yours, "...there's something else you wish to take responsibility for?"

Said mouth curled into the faintest hint of a smile and witnessing the shift this close felt dangerously religious—as though you'd experienced something sacred not many have before—part of you knew you did.

"Many things," he whispered, the sound soft as velvet, dangerous as a blade. "The list is long and varied..."

The heat in your body was painful—you had never been this close to him, never felt the full weight of his presence bearing down on you like this. His cologne—faint, rich, and so distinctly Tom—overwhelmed you, the same scent he'd worn since you first met him.

It was infuriating, how everything he did was so subtle, simple—yet so fucking intoxicating, so irresistible.

"...I'm not quite sure where to start." His eyes flicked back to yours.

Every word that fell from his lips was a new form of torture, his dark eyes pinning you in place, searing into you. The heat radiating from his body made you want to retreat, to find air, to find space—but the thought of putting any distance between you was unbearable, the need to be near him overriding everything else.

You'd rather lose consciousness than pull back.

"Why don't you start..." you whispered, tilting your head, your teeth grazing your bottom lip. "By fixing the insatiable ache in my curiosity...the one you created when you mentioned how you use your hands...to relieve stress..."

He exhaled, the sound rumbling from his chest like a growl and you could almost imagine that if he parted his lips, you'd glimpse fangs behind them right now—you'd never seen him like this—his gaze predatory, fucking ravenous, and it was as though he could devour you whole if he so chose to.

But you knew better. Tom Riddle would never be so crude. His methods of torment were deliberate—Methodical. A slow depletion of your senses until you're gasping for something only he can give you.

Then, in a voice that was all gravel and silk, he whispered, "is that all that's aching...your...curiosity?"

"Gods no—"

But you never finished that thought—because in an instant, his hand was tangled in your hair, pulling you forward with a force that sent you careening over the desk and into him—Tom Riddles lips crashed against yours, and it was like drowning, his tongue invading your mouth, stealing your breath and dragging all ounces of your cognitive ability along with it.

You were half out of your chair, caught in the gravity of him, unsure if your legs were even working, or if it was his grip alone that held you upright. His free hand found your wrist, pinning it to the desk as his mouth worked you with a fervour that made your head spin. The kiss was incendiary, a wildfire scorching its way through every nerve in your body, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake—the intensity of it, the sheer, unrelenting pressure of his lips on yours, made you wonder how you survived this long without it.

All the heat in your blood pooled low, deep between your thighs, an ache so profound it threatened to consume you. Tom Riddle was about to show you precisely how he used his hands to relieve stress, and Gods, if that wasn’t the only thing you’d ever needed right now.

1K notes · View notes

wonusite · 1 year ago

Text

The Thing About Pretty Boys

❝ You’re convinced that pretty boy Seonghwa could never fuck anyone stupid. He decides to prove you wrong. ❞

PAIRING: park seonghwa x female reader

GENRE: friends to lovers au, smut

WORD COUNT: 4k

WARNINGS: pwp, repressed feelings, overuse of the word pretty (sorry not sorry), seonghwa is HUNG, cock drunk!reader, pussy drunk!seonghwa, mentions of anal, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, backshots, squirting, dumbification, possessiveness, breeding kink, overstimulation

A/N: this has been long overdue, and i hope you guys like it! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

“There’s no way.”

Your incredulous snort makes Seonghwa pause. He whips his head in your direction, pretty frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. You keep laughing, keeling over until your loose nightshirt starts to hang off one of your shoulders. The way you’re falling over like he said something hilarious is starting to irritate him. Like really fucking bad.

When you finally stop laughing, you notice the deep scowl your friend is directing at you. Even as he's directing a scornful glare at you, he looks unfairly pretty. The thought makes you huff out one last weak laugh. “What? Don’t give me that look.”

His jaw flexes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “You believed fucking Mingi when he said the same thing.”

Your nonchalant shrug makes Seonghwa’s eye twitch in annoyance. He’s not offended, not exactly. It’s just the slightest bit irritating that he’s literally in your room, on your bed, alone, and you still can’t think of him in a way he desperately wants you to.

“Because it’s obvious that Mingi knows what he’s doing. Like, you can tell he’s a beast in bed.”

“And what makes you think I’m not?”

It’s weird that he’s so insistent on getting you to believe him. Seonghwa usually doesn’t care about what anyone thinks since he claims to know himself the best, so other people’s opinions don’t really matter. Apparently, he isn’t too different from all the other guys you’ve met. It’s kind of cute.

“I just— Who cares?” You splutter, suddenly feeling flustered with how he’s staring at you so intently.

“Tell me why.”

You nearly recoil in shock at how assertive and dominant Seonghwa sounds. His tone and hard eyes makes something inside you flutter with desire. Taken aback by your own indecent reaction, you clear your throat and avert your eyes back to the paused sex scene out of a movie you can't remember the name of.

If you could go back in time and pick a different movie that hadn’t started this entire thing, you would.

“Fine.” You sigh, willing yourself to calm down. “I just think that most pretty boys aren’t able to fuck anyone stupid. That’s all—it’s nothing personal.”

Oh, but it is.

To Seonghwa, who had pictured you writhing and screaming from pleasure under him way too many times to be considered normal, it’s definitely personal.

“I could fuck you stupid.”

His words hang in the air heavily. You expect him to give you that pretty, nonchalant smile of his and tell you that he’s joking. But he doesn’t. In fact, Seonghwa is looking at you with an unmistakable heat and determination in his gaze that has you feeling like prey.

“Whatever.” You force yourself to choke out a laugh, mind already wandering to what it would be like to fuck such a pretty man.

Seonghwa seems unfazed by your dismissal. He stands up from your bed before kneeling at the edge in front of where you’re sitting. You let out a shocked yelp when he grabs your bare legs and yanks you toward him. His eyes are dark as he gazes up at you like he’s going to devour you.

The heat coming from his hands and just having him nestled between your legs makes your cunt throb. It’s embarrassing how fast you’re getting turned on, but you blame it on the fact that it has everything to do that Seonghwa is just so damn pretty.

“H-Hwa.” You actually fucking whimper, sounding completely needy.

“Gonna let me prove it?” He smirks, hands gently caressing your thighs that are unconsciously spreading for him.

“Fine.” You try to sound like you aren’t already soaking, horny mess. “You have to hurry, though. Sannie’s gonna be back soon.”

Seonghwa nearly growls at the mention of your clingy roommate. He trails his hands up the soft skin of your thighs and grips the edges on your panties. You let out a scandalized gasp when he literally rips them off of you. He throws them over his shoulder before flipping up your oversized shirt and exposing your hot cunt to the air.

His groan makes you clench around nothing. Before you can say anything, Seonghwa yanks you forward and smashes his face into your wet pussy. Any and all coherent thoughts are quickly ejected from your mind. You let out a small moan when you feel your friend’s tongue split through your folds, tasting you for the first time.

“Fuck.” Seonghwa moans into your cunt. “I knew you would taste good.”

His words make your brain turn into literal mush because what the fuck? Had he been thinking about what it would be like to eat you out? The mere thought has more juices spilling out of you. Your body’s reaction only spurs Seonghwa on, his hands gripping your thighs tighter and pulling you further on his mouth.

You toss your head back with a moan. All you can feel is his tongue plunging deep inside you. Every time his nose bumps against your throbbing clit, it sends jolt of pleasure up your spine.

“S-Shit, Hwa.” You whimper, hands falling to his messy hair.

Seonghwa smirks into your pussy when you start to tug on his hair. He hums against your leaking hole before latching onto your swollen nub and suckling on it with a lewd slurping sound. Your cries of pleasure sound like music to his ears, and it makes him more determined to have you begging and crying for his cock. Seonghwa is sure your moans would sound even prettier when he’s actually splitting you open with his dick.

“So good.” You mewl as he keeps sucking on your aching bud. “K-Keep doing that.”

Seonghwa starts to plant sloppy kisses on your glistening folds before dragging his tongue up your slit. He repeats the action a few times before he sucks your puffy clit back into his mouth. The sight of your face twisting in pleasure is a sight he’ll never forget. To see the object of his fantasies writhing and shaking from pleasure has his cock straining in his pants, eager to be stuffed into your cunt.

You start to grind your pussy into his face as he keeps licking and fucking you with his tongue. His ravenous movements are like that of a starved man, and soon you feel your abdomen tighten with the need to release.

“I-I think I’m gonna come.” You moan, surprised that he managed to get you so close to an orgasm in such a short amount of time.

Seonghwa groans into your sopping cunt. “Do it, baby. Come all over my tongue. Let me taste you.”

You gasp out his name as a wave of pleasure suddenly washes over you. The tight coil in your stomach snaps as your walls become impossibly tight. Your moan is loud and wanton as you squirt all over your friend’s face.

Seonghwa’s moan sounds animalistic as he presses his tongue flat against your entrance, collecting all your sweet juices and slurping you dry. He’s practically making out with your pussy until there’s none of your addicting cream left to lap up.

“Mhm, baby. You taste so fucking good.”

You’re a trembling mess as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs before standing up, your juices covering his chin. The sight of you all fucked out because of him, makes the desire in his gut get more intense.

“Sorry.” You huff out, mind a bit more clear when you see him licking his lips. “I-I’ve– that usually doesn’t happen.”

To be exact, it’s never happened.

“I’ll forgive you.” He sounds sweet as he starts to unbuckle his belt. Seonghwa pulls his shirt off before pulling his pants down until he’s left in only his underwear, impressive bulge standing out. “But only if you do it again—on my cock this time.”

You can’t be mad that he looks so smug because he’s just so fucking pretty. He becomes even more attractive after sliding his underwear off and letting his big cock slap against his lower abdomen. The large organ is intimidatingly long and thick as it throbs and leaks with precum. Your mouth waters, and you can’t be surprised that his cock is a pretty as he is.

Unfortunately, you don’t get to admire it for too long because Seonghwa grabs you and flips you around. You’re propped up on your elbows and knees to support your weight, large shirt bunching at your waist as he arches your back to the angle he wants.

Seonghwa licks his lips as he squeezes and caresses your ass, leaking cock throbbing at the pretty sight of you all ready to get fucked. This is way better than any of his fantasies, and he hopes that this is only the first time of many.

“Such a pretty ass. Maybe you’ll let me fuck it next time.” His sultry voice has you dripping in desperation. “But for now, let’s see how much you can handle, baby.”

A needy, pathetic mewl tumbles out of you as Seonghwa presses his oozing tip against your entrance. He rubs and taps it against your folds, enjoying how you’re desperately rutting your hips back. Just minutes ago you were adamant that he wasn’t capable of getting this sort of reaction.

Your mouth drops open in pleasure when he slowly eases his cock into you. “O-Oh, fuck.” Your moan is weak as your eyes slowly close.

Seonghwa looks down to where his fat cock is pushing into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your pretty cunt as his. The sight is mesmerising, and he can’t stop the deep moan he lets out from it. His cock throbs wildly as he finally bottoms out. You’re so hot and tight that he might actually blow his load before he even gets the chance to fuck you properly.

His cock is hitting your deepest spot, and you let out a wanton moan as you tightly grip your sheets. “Fuck me!”

A carnal desire takes over Seonghwa when he hears your needy cry. He’s never been able to deny you anything, and he doesn’t plan to start now. Immediately, he begins to pummel in and out of you, fucking your sopping cunt roughly. Obscene noises fill the room as his pelvis slams against your ass.

Seonghwa can’t take his eyes off your pretty little pussy and how it swallows his cock so perfectly. His heavy balls are being stained with your arousal as they slap against your puffy clit. He becomes more ravenous with every rough thrust.

“You’re already soaking my cock, baby. I fucking knew you wouldn’t be able to get enough.” He grunts as he grabs your hips, quickly growing obsessed with how you feel around him.

It's true, and you can't deny it. Not that you want to. His cock is stretching you out so good that you can’t think straight.

“So fucking good.” You mewl as you deepen your arch so he can fuck you deeper.

One of Seonghwa’s hands trails down your body to squeeze your ass while the other goes around your waist to rub your sensitive clit. He pounds into you harder, loving the cries and whimpers you’re letting out every time he fucks his cock into your juicy cunt. You’re throwing yourself back on him to meet his thrusts, loving how his big cock splits you open with every snap of his hips.

“Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy so only I fit.” Seonghwa growls, spanking your ass harshly.

His words make you clench on his cock and coat it with more of your cream. You whine and cry out for him, already feeling any thoughts that aren’t about his big dick being fucked out of you. His hips start to snap with a rough precision you claimed he wasn’t capable of, and you wonder how longer it’ll take him to realize that he already proved you wrong.

Seonghwa feels your cunt start to tighten around his cock like it doesn’t want to let go. With the way you’re starting to tremble, he can tell you’re close to falling apart. But he wants to see your face when you do. It’s the thing he’s wanted the most since he met you.

You cry out in protest when Seonghwa abruptly pulls out his hard cock of your pussy. Before you can beg him to put it back in, he’s flipping you on your back. He gently caresses your shaking thighs with a heated gaze. Then, he’s removing the big shirt you have on, dark eyes taking in every inch of your exposed body.

“Hwa.” You plead through a needy mewl. “Don’t tease.”

The look on your face makes his cock throb painfully. You look absolutely fucked out, and to think he hasn’t even made you come yet. Seonghwa licks his lips and teases your soaking entrance with his leaking tip. His smirk is deviant, but so hot that all you can do is buck your hips desperately. Unlike your initial thoughts, your friend doesn’t make you wait.

It’s satisfying how Seonghwa’s jaw snaps open as he watches your pretty pussy slowly get filled with his thick cock. The erotic sight drives him to start fucking into you again. He lets out a deep groan when he sees your cream coat his entire length as you squeeze him tighter than anyone ever has.

Pleasure consumes you and licks up your entire body as Seonghwa pounds his cock into your hot cunt. Your moans turn into loud cries that mix into the lewd squelching coming from where you two are connected when he presses your legs to your chest. The new position allows him to fuck into you deeper than before.

All coherent thoughts are slowly dissipating every time his cock pounds against your sweet spot. A carnal desire takes over and has you begging for more through broken whimpers. “Fuh-Fuck. Fill me up, Hwa.”

The moan Seonghwa lets out is as pretty as he is. Your wanton pleas trigger something primal inside of him, and he feels himself going feral at the thought of breeding you.

“You want my cum, baby?” He coos sweetly, heavy balls slapping against your ass in sync with your wanton moans.

It’s embarrassing how fast you nod, back arching as you feel a wave of pleasure start to consume you. His cock is throbbing inside you, and all you can think about is milking him for all that he’s worth. “Want it so bad!”

“Fuck.” Seonghwa sucks in a sharp breath. “Pretty little pussy’s so tight for me.”

Your filthy moans are quickly stifled when Seonghwa bends down to kiss you. His movements are passionate and desperate, teeth tugging at your bottom lips. It feels like your brain has turned into static with all the euphoric sensations consuming you. All you can focus on is his cock splitting you open and the sounds of your skin slapping against his.

When Seonghwa pulls back, he maintains eye contact. As you stare into his eyes, you can see that they’re filled with an emotion that goes beyond lust and arousal. It makes your heart pound for an entirely different reason. His gentle stare is a great contrast to the rough snap of his hips.

That affectionate look is all it takes for you to squirt all over your friend once again. Your cry is loud as you cover his abdomen with your orgasm.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Make a mess all over me.” Seonghwa moans as he watches you go dumb on his cock.

The sight of your pretty face slack with pleasure has him fucking into your cervix savagely. Your cunt is gripping his cock so tightly that it doesn’t take long for him to release his thick load inside you. His thrusts grow sloppy as he starts to fill you with ropes of cum. Your soppy cunt is overflowing with so much of his seed that it bubbles around the base of his cock and leaks down to your ass—a filthy sight Seonghwa will never forget.

You’re both panting as he slowly lets go of your legs. Seonghwa watches you carefully, but doesn’t make a move to pull out of you. He wants to keep you plugged and full of his cum, and by how you slowly wrap your legs around his waist, it seems like you feel the same way.

When you come back to your senses, you nervously lick your lips when you see Seonghwa’s smirk. “What?”

“You’re a squirter?” His words sound teasing.

“N-No.” You pant out, unsure of how to tell him he’s the only one capable of evoking such a reaction from your body.

Apparently, your friend only sees this as another one of your challenges. He caresses your soft thighs as a challenging look crosses his face.

“Do it again.”

Seonghwa starts to move again, his aching cock sliding against your walls with ease as he fucks his cum deeper inside you. He unhooks your legs from his waist so he can place them on his shoulders. From this angle he can see your filthy cunt being split open on his thick cock.

“I can’t.” You manage to moan out, loving how his dick drags against your velvety walls with precision. “God, Hwa. I-It’s too much.”

“You say that, but your pretty little pussy keeps squeezing my cock like it doesn’t want to let go.” He says as his thumb starts to rub slow circles on your throbbing clit. “I’m sure you can squirt for me again if I give you another load, hm?”

Seonghwa’s smirk is cocky when he feels your cunt tighten around him again. He loves how you don’t deny it. In fact, you whine out a quiet more as he continues to fuck you. His thumb is still stimulating your puffy bud as his hips snap into you. Clearly, your friend is enjoying fucking you to the point of delirium. You can’t complain because you’re enjoying it just as much.

“Tight little cunt was made to take my cock.” He grunts as his eyes start to roll to the back of his head.

You can’t fathom how it feels like he knows your body more than you do. His cock keeps ramming against your g-spot, and all you can do is let out moans and mewls of pleasure. You’re sure it won’t be long until you come again.

A ring of white cream surrounds the base of his cock and slowly drips down his balls and on to the sheets. Seonghwa knows you won’t ever be able to forget how good he’s fucked you, and he also knows that he’s potentially ruined you for any other man. Not that he would let you go after feeling your pussy.

“God, baby. Your sweet pussy’s already gonna make me come again.” Seonghwa groans, thrusts becoming tougher and sharper. “Gonna let me come inside again?”

“Yes!” You squeal, already gone dumb again. “Come inside me!”

The overstimulation has lewd and filthy sounds coming out of you, but you can’t help it. Especially not when you look down and see how his big cock is piercing into your tight cunt. You gasp and jolt as he continues to ram into you like you’re nothing more than a hole. Your legs start to tremble as your third orgasm abruptly hits you.

Like the two previous times, your toes curl as you uncontrollably squirt on his cock.

“Such a good girl.” Seonghwa praises you with his pretty smile. “Here’s your reward.”

He slams into you a few more time before he spills his thick seed inside you, filling you to the brim. Your eyes roll back as your pussy contracts around Seonghwa’s pulsing cock. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides is so fucking good that all you can do is mewl his name weakly and pathetically. It feels like your mind is clouded with a euphoric haze preventing you from thinking straight.

Soon, Seonghwa pulls out of your creamy cunt, his cum dripping out of you and staining the sheets beneath you. His eyes darken at the sight of your sensitive folds covered with his seed. A low growl builds in his chest as he swoops down to smash his lips on to yours. You moan into his mouth as he parts your lips with his tongue to deepen the kiss.

When he pulls away from you, he gives you another lascivious smirk. “We’re not done yet, baby.”

It shouldn’t excite you this much that he’s not done. You’re literally dripping with his cum, but you still want more. His hard, throbbing cock is resting against your sloppy pussy, and you start to gyrate your hips to get him to fuck you again. Maybe you’re already addicted, but it doesn’t matter because Seonghwa seems to feel the exact same way.

A quiet moan rips from your throat when he starts to fuck his cock between your messy lips. You cry out from the sensation, still sensitive from the other orgasms he’s ripped out of you. Slowly and teasingly, Seonghwa drags the tip of his fat cock down to your entrance, moaning when more of his cum seeps out of you. The sight is something he’ll never forget and always try to recreate.

The noises you let out are so cute and needy that they make his cock throb painfully. Seonghwa slowly eases into you for a third time, base of his heavy cock touching your core and big balls resting against your ass. Your pussy is pulsing around him as you leak with your mixed releases.

You can feel Seonghwa’s cock so deep inside you that it’s dizzying and almost comparible to being drunk. Vaguely, you think this is what it must be like to be cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty. All for me.” Seonghwa groans hotly.

The breath is almost knocked out of you as he drags his dick back before ramming it back into the depths of your wet pussy. He begins to pound into you, the sound of skin on skin quickly filling the room.

Seonghwa stares down at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to memorize every aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he spears his big cock into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him, and he knows he wouldn’t trade it for anything else in the world.

“S-Seonghwa!” You squeal, toes curling and limbs starting to tremble.

The familiar sensation gets worse as your friend continues to fuck into your guts, stroking your walls with his thick cock. He’s slamming into your sweet spot with a savage like pace that you know it won’t be long before you fall apart again.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.” Seonghwa groans as you mewl at his filthy words.

As if his voice and words are a trigger, your body starts to react. His harsh thrusts make you start to convulse, effectively soaking his cock. As if it’s all you’re capable of giving him, you weakly come on his aching dick with a choked moan. Your tits are bouncing with every thrust, body twitching as Seonghwa roughly fucks you through your orgasm.

“Want your cum.” You mewl, and Seonghwa simply begins to fuck you quicker.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna pump you full until you’re leaking with my cum for days.” Seonghwa promises through possessive growls as he sloppily fucks into your soiled cunt.

Seonghwa suddenly stills deep inside your pussy, spilling his hot seed inside of you. Thick, white ropes of cum paint your walls until it leaves his cock dripping. He nearly slumps on top of you, but then he rolls over and onto his back, taking you with him. His cock stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his many loads.

“How are you feeling?” The soft voice you recognize is back as Seonghwa gently caresses your naked back.

You sigh into his neck, feeling completely sated. “Full.”

His pretty laugh makes you smile, and you can’t help but think that Mingi was right when he told you that thing about pretty boys.

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