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bejeweledinterludes · 1 month ago

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still got the blues.

OR on one quiet night spent in the bunker, you discover that the notorious, god-fearing, big, bad ‘n scary, six-foot badass hunter that is dean friggin’ winchester (aka one of your closest friends) isn’t as tough as he seems.

well.

in bed, at least.

my masterlist

「 pairing 」 : sub ! dean x fem ! reader

「 word count 」 : 8.8 k. (FAITH BE NORMAL CHALLENGE LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

「 content / warnings 」 : MINORS 🤺🤺🤺 GET BACK! AWAY!later seasons sub dean winchester x fem reader (yes i have a problem, no i don’t care thank you!). masterbating, handjob, unprotected sex. yeah this may be the horniest thing i’ve ever written in my life.

you have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

HELLOOOOO THE LONG-AWAITED SUB!DEAN SMUT IS FINALLY HERE 🙂‍↕️🙏‼️ shoutout and thank you to @supernotnatural2005’s drabble / oneshot for the inspo on this one <3 because i think we all want to catch dean like this— which is why i wrote about it!

ALSO @figthoughts’ post from the other day too… yeah idk guys we’re just horny and ovulating connected or something when it comes to mr. jensen ackles and his characters. love you figgy pudding!

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being on the road with sam and dean for god knows how long now, you’d gotten used to all the sounds each idiot knucklehead brother would make in their sleeping state as you passed their rooms— so much so that it was basically white noise at this point, and you just tune it out.

yeah, tonight was different, though. sam had left much earlier— he and elieen were finally going on a real, live, actual date, much to your joy. which meant you and dean were alone in the bunker together. that doesn’t happen often, but when it does, you usually stay up watching 80s movies and arguing over niche things like whether or not they used real flames in back to the future (they didn’t).

that was yet another reason why tonight was different: you hadn’t seen dean all day, much less tonight. he’d been out doing god knows what— and you barely even heard him come back a few hours ago.

but you didn’t push. actually, you didn’t dare to set foot past dean’s door— taking the long way down the hall to get to the kitchen or the library throughout the evening, secretly hoping he wouldn’t come out of his room or even acknowledge your existence.

because… honestly?

living with two other men?

who the hell were you kidding. you could use a night to yourself.

and not to your knowledge or anything, but so could dean.

no disrespect though, because dean really was wishing you were there— or, rather, he was imagining you with him, which was the only acceptable option at the moment.

…but this was definitely a new low. even for him.

see, while you were actually attempting to be productive with your night, dean was not.

like, at all.

while you were doing your laundry, putting clothes away in your room, watching a show on your laptop with your airpods in— thank god, otherwise this whole thing would blow up in dean’s face…

…for the most part, figuratively.

because dean— and how does one say this without sounding like a complete and total creep?

well, dean was jerkin’ it in his own room.

fappin’.

beatin’ da meat.

whatever the male version was of flickin’ the bean.

oh, and the (best) grossest part?

he was thinking about you while doing it.

yeah, yeah, it’s sick, it’s definitely wrong on so many levels— and it sure as hell feels downright illegal and a sin to be doing it while you’re in the fucking bunker.

it’s the lowest of the low. weird. pathetic.

but then again, dean’s always been a little… pathetic when it comes to you.

don’t let anyone know you know that, though.

so, back to dean being pathetic and horny. he’d been at the bar in town for hours earlier tonight, trying to find someone to satisfy the strain on his pants— and that someone needed to look a whole lot like you to get the job done.

how hard could it be?

well, apparently, in lebanon, kansas, finding a look-alike clone of your best friend so you could fuck them silly?

it’s really goddamn hard.

and so was dean.

so here he was—did i say pathetic already?— jerking off in his bedroom like some horny teenager. he’s on his fourth, maybe fifth time cumming to the thought of purely just you.

that’s right, no porn, no nudie mags, not even a goddamn picture in his free hand— because dean was wound up so freakin’ tight, he didn’t need anything. just his hand and his filthy imagination.

it’s humiliating. dean’s literally bucking his hips up into his hand as of right now, imagining it’s yours and not his— all while letting out these little noises that do not sound like they’d be coming from a six-foot, tough as nails hunter. but they are.

and they’re all for you.

dean winchester does not whimper. hell, no. but the broken sound that rips from his throat, tossing his head back on his pillow after he tugs a little too hard on himself was anything but.

and maybe dean should be making less noise— but he knew you so well, too well— you’d have your airpods on noise canceling, anyway. and he can’t even think about if you didn’t. he’s too wrapped up in a haze right now. he’s so distracted. by-god intoxicated.

because dean’s imagining you after that one hunt in virginia. yeah. the moon had been out that night, and god, the way it hit you— a combination of this deep blue and silver and it just lit up your skin, illuminating you like you were one of those ancient goddesses, like the ones he’s only read about in old myths and legends when he’d been so bored he actually did research in the library.

dean’s imagining you, just you, right there with him, and it was your hand, not his. imagining you pulling those sounds from his throat while he’s breathing so heavy, his chest heaving up and down. and the sheets covering only his bottom half were shifting with him as he was moving what seemed like his entire bed along with him as of now.

dean was trying to be quiet.

but his body was not letting him.

and poor you— oh, sweet, innocent you. because as far as dean knew, you were completely oblivious to what was currently occurring in his bedroom at the moment.

but what dean didn’t know was that your airpods had died over an hour ago.

and you’d made the mistake of not taking the long way back to your room this time, thinking that dean had gone to bed due to the late hour.

you had stopped in your tracks in the hall coming back from the kitchen— because you heard dean. heard his little broken groans, damn close to whimpers.

and you genuinely believed that dean was just having a nightmare at first— because hell, with the shit you guys encountered on the daily, it wasn’t uncommon for any of y’all to make a goddamn racket in your sleep.

drawing that conclusion— because it was the only one that was realistic, you start towards your room again, already starting to tune out dean’s weird-as-hell noises.

but before you even take two more steps past dean’s room, you hear something else— a little muffled through the door, but clear as day. because it sends a jolt straight through you.

your name.

he’s having a nightmare, you remind yourself. he could be just calling out to you in that sense, because that would be logical. but then he says your name again. and again.

and it’s just your name.

not sam’s.

not cas’.

just. yours.

and dean sounds like a man possessed at this point. his eyes are squeezed shut, as if he’s trying to banish the image of you from his mind.

but he can’t. and he never would.

he just can’t do it. can’t keep himself in check anymore.

so that’s why dean groans your name at the next motion of his hand on his dick— saying it for the fourth time since you’ve been stopped outside his door.

and it wasn’t a ‘i’m-in-so-much-pain-and-scared’ groan, the kind when someone has a nightmare— no, dean’s groan sounded like a ‘oh-that-feels-so-fuckin-good’ groan, like the kind someone makes when…

oh.

and dean knows he sounds pretty close to, if not completely pathetic. not at all like the good ol’ badass hunter of lore, not that you’d believed him to be. you’d think he’d sound more in control, or at least not whimpering.

dean’s battled both heaven and hell. purgatory. angels, demons, monsters, even sometimes, just people, you name it— he’s fought it and kicked its freakin’ ass, even god himself.

and his one fault? his only weakness?

you.

it’s always been just you. your stupid pretty face. the way you laughed at his jokes, even when they weren’t that funny. the way you stood by him and his brother’s side— and in the hunting world, associating with the winchesters meant a death sentence. you didn’t care, though. you never did. it was in the way you were always there, especially when it counted.

and here he was.

jerking off and thinking about you.

this had to be rock bottom. right? if not that, purely a whole new level of scumbag. even if you couldn’t hear him.

oh, but you could. and you’re lingering outside dean’s door— because you didn’t even have to put your ear on it to hear the noises he was making, clear as day.

dean feels like he’s drunk, delirious. this always happened whenever he fantasized about you. a pathetic, groaning and whimpering mess. hell, in this state, he’d damn well beg.

and oh, he was.

“fuckin’— please— god, i need you, please—”

damn, you could almost see it— dean’s hand, hidden by the dark of his room, but the way the sheets move makes it obvious just where his hand is. and it’s a blur.

yeah. there was no more holding out, no more being strong. not now.

because dean feels like he’s on the edge of his own personal hell.

and you? you’re stuck.

dean was… well, fucking doing that. and you’re just… stuck. you would have just kept walking past his door, putting your pillow between your ears and teasing him about it tomorrow morning.

because instead crying or groaning out the name of some random girl or even farah fawcett— dean was currently begging.

for you.

and you’re still stuck. dean feels like he’s losing his goddamn mind. he’s gonna cum again, he knows it. he also knows he should be quiet, but the words and your name just keep spilling out of his mouth, and he’s too far gone to stop them.

“ah— fuck. please. please, please, goddamn it, i need you, i need you, i need you…”

yeah, dean’s brain’s not in charge anymore. honestly? it hasn’t been since he met you all those years ago— with your stupid pretty hair, and your stupid pretty mouth, and the stupid soft sounds you make in your sleep that drove him insane whenever you used to share a motel room.

dean needs you.

and you needed a fucking cold-ass shower.

because the way dean was sounding right now? he only sounded like that in your dreams. your deepest, darkest fantasies. it was making your knees buckle.

yeah. there’s absolutely no way any of this was real. this was straight out of a porno. this had to be the trickster’s doing, or something.

because the real dean didn’t act like this. and yet, here he was. and here you were, your stomach flipping each time a sound leaves dean’s mouth and bounces off the wooden door that was still splitting you two apart.

and right then and there, you wished you had the balls to just open it.

because you wanted to be right there next to dean, pulling those noises out of him yourself.

“need you—need you right there, need you, right, right, oh, god, there—”

even in dean’s own fantasies, the ones that drove him to insanity like right now, he’d always thought about this. you actually being there, him actually saying all this to you.

dean would’ve given anything, then. anything. just to have you right next to him in his bed.

yeah, well, you’re still just stuck.

because what the fuck do you do.

do you walk back to your room? pretend you didn’t notice? pretend it never happened? not listen to the sounds dean was making?

or, do you open the door? go in his room and just show dean how you’d really felt about him— for years now?

and lately, it seemed like you all you could think and dream about was being in the same bed with dean, touching every part of him.

because if you were in there right now, you’d touch dean’s skin that you yourself had deemed forbidden, because it’d be seen as crossing a line, breaking a boundary.

hello? reality check, anyone?

come on. dean was your friend.

but the noises he was making in your name— because of you? that was anything but.

yeah. if you were in there, you’d start with your hands on dean’s chest, going lower, and lower, until he started making the sounds he was making now, gasping and begging right in your ear for you, not stopping until he completely just—

yeah, that was it.

you knew your answer.

and dean needs exactly what you’re about to do. because god, he’s thought about it. in the dead of night, when he was alone, or when you’d been just out of reach sitting next to him in a dive bar, he’s wanted this. wanted you.

dean wanted to know the way your hands would feel against his skin, how your body would feel against his own. he’s thought about it. hell, he’d dreamed about it. fantasized— just like he was doing now.

and dean was still fantasizing when you throw away every single rational thought you had at the moment and manage to open his door without making a noise— thank you, hunter skills.

this was crazy. right?

eh. you’ve done crazier.

no. not like this.

and not with dean.

but still, you managed to cross the threshold of dean’s room— and you even sit down on the edge of his bed.

okay, the more you thought about it…was this awkward?

maybe.

oh, but dean doesn’t even notice you— his eyes were screwed tightly shut, mouth parted and huffing out pants and broken noises as one of his hands continues to move fervently. his hips are wild, bucking into his hand— and his body is shaking his entire bed frame.

dean’s too far gone to notice anything, lost in a fantasy that’s been haunting him for longer than he’s willing to admit out loud. the only thing that could even remotely stop him would be—

hold on.

dean’s hit by a familiar scent— the one he’d been imagining this whole time. but that really does smell like— and its now so close, so real, it practically envelopes him. and his eyes open to—

you.

right there. in his bed. within reach. looking at him like he’s always wanted you to look at him.

and there’s no disgust or anger on your face as you look down at dean, still frozen in place. no, just a hint of amusement, mixed with something else—

something dangerously close to pure want.

you don’t say anything, even though you know you should by now. because now dean knew that you knew exactly what he’d just been doing— more importantly, you were now aware of who the focus of it all was.

and goddamn if the look on your face doesn’t have dean pausing, too. he’s never seen it on your face before. and it’s too dark in his room for him to really make it out, but he thinks he sees—

you weren’t disgusted. you weren’t grossed out, or even angry.

you’re just… looking at him like the fantasy he’s been chasing isn’t a goddamn fantasy anymore— but instead something he could reach out and touch. feel.

dean has to swallow whatever excuse he could come up with to talk himself out of what you’d just walked in on. what you’d just heard. and his mouth is dry.

a part of you wants to pounce onto dean right now. to kiss him silly, touch him everywhere and make him gasp your name again— only with you being the sole instigator this time.

but the annoying other part of you halted that urge.

and why?

because of your stupid morals.

your goddamned feelings.

and you had to ask dean, had to know— even if the answer hurt you.

“how long?”

dean’s brain almost completely flatlines for a long moment. though, he knows what you’re insinuating, of course.

how long dean has been thinking about you in that way? how long and hard had he fantasized about his hands on your body, his mouth on your skin, and his dick buried so deep inside you, he gets hand cramps almost every night he’s alone?

yeah. it scares him, just how goddamn long it’s been.

“…years.”

that was all you needed. in reality, you don’t actually pounce or anything, but you do move closer to dean on his bed, tossing one leg over both of his to straddle his lap before meeting his gaze again.

“you have no idea,” your voice is barely above a whisper to dean as you keep his gaze, making yourself comfortable in his lap. “how much i wanted to hear that.”

and dean can’t help the groan he lets out, at feeling your weight, your body, straddling his lap. he’s spent too many nights dreaming of exactly this. his hands automatically go to your hips, as if they’re on autopilot.

because he’s not in charge anymore.

and honestly?

he doesn’t think he ever was when it came to you.

and a small smile tugs on your lips when you feel dean’s hands on your hips— your own fingers start to trail from his wrists and up his arms, your pace slow, but deliberate.

because you were going to memorize every inch of dean that you could.

oh, dean’s just barely managing to keep his hips still, to not buck up underneath you. he can feel you, now that you’re straddling him, the heat there, where he’d wanted to feel you for so, so long.

and when your fingers trail up his arms, dean shudders. because it’s so gentle, tender. he can’t remember the last time anyone touched him this way, if at all.

your hands eventually reach dean’s face. oh, his gorgeous face. you cup both sides, taking in everything: those green eyes of his, the freckles you could see only if you were up close dusting on his nose and cheeks—his features were illuminated only by the dim light of his desk lamp, but you could see so much because of how close you both were now.

the slight smile is still on your lips as you look at dean— because you were still a little sure you were going to wake up at some point.

but this wasn’t a dream, you had to remind myself. dean was under you. he wanted you, in the same way you’d wanted him for as long as you can remember.

and dean feels like he can’t breathe properly. he’s been slapped, punched, cut, beaten, tortured, everything violent under the sun done to his face— but no one’s had their hands on it like this.

he feels too exposed, too vulnerable, but he doesn’t move.

because it’s you. it could only ever be you.

dean keeps his gaze locked to yours, even as he has to stop himself from just completely melting into the palms of your hands on his face. he wants to look at you for forever, keep you just like this— and his expression is so open, so bare.

your thumbs gently graze across both of dean’s cheeks as you hold his face in your hands.

and you can’t look away.

so you don’t.

but you do lean a fraction closer to dean in his lap, breaking the silence in a hushed whisper— because there goes your stupid doubts and feelings, again.

“you want this?”

even though he almost wants to, dean can’t laugh. not when he knows you’re being serious. it kills him, a little— that you’re still doubting it.

because how could he not want this? you?

“god, yes.” dean’s not even sure if he says that out loud, or just thinks it— but he’s nodding regardless, and with the movement bringing his face even closer to yours.

and your gaze softens almost completely when dean says that— but there’s one doubt that sticks, even when his words wash all the others away from your mind. the one that’s been there almost the entire time you’ve known him.

“de, i…” you don’t take your hands off of dean’s face when you try to speak again— but the words die in your throat. you swallow a little, averting your gaze.

and god, when dean hears you hesitate, he’s already on edge.

dean doesn’t know what you’re about to say,— all he’s aware of is that you’re now looking away from him. and he can’t have that, so he brings his hand (non-jerking, of course) to your chin, gently but firmly, forcing you to look at him again.

he tries to keep his voice even, but he can’t.

“tell me.”

you’re forced to keep dean’s gaze when his hand touches your face— and his fingers are so warm, you almost lose your train of thought completely.

you’ve wanted dean for so long— but you had to make sure he fully felt the same way you did.

not just lust. not something to walk past awkwardly the next day.

“i— i can’t do this… just for tonight,” you swallow hard again, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes flick between dean’s. “but i… i think you know that.”

even with the worry that had been coursing through his veins, dean couldn’t help but be impressed at the fact you think there’s a chance in hell he’d be able to have you once and just… let you go afterwards. his hand on your chin drops a fraction, resting on the side of your throat instead. he swallows, then finds his voice.

“i know.”

your gaze softens a little— and it’s a little embarrassing how much weight felt completely lifted off your chest when dean says that.

you had denied your feelings for dean for years now. and now knowing that he felt the same way, it was getting harder and harder to control the urge to just do what you wanted.

“well, good,” you bring your hands to tilt dean’s head up more to you as you’re in his lap, eyes flicking down to his lips— because you so needed to know what they felt like. “that’s— that’s good.”

and damn, if dean isn’t already struggling. nothing’s even happened yet, and he’s trying his best just to keep still, to resist all his natural impulses and desires to just grab you and never, ever let you go. when your eyes flick down to his lips, his follow suit almost instantly. his voice is almost a damn croak when he responds.

“yeah?”

all your senses were filled with just dean. and you needed more. you’d denied your feelings for far too long— years now, in fear of him not reciprocating. but you couldn’t deny your feelings or your urges anymore.

“yeah,” you echo back in an exhale, your thumbs grazing on dean’s cheeks. your gaze is still on his lips, but you look back up at him. “you— you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”

hot damn.

dean feels like he’s going to wake up at any second at those words that just came out of your mouth. because he never dared to let himself hope that you could feel the same way he did. and it’s been so, so goddamn long of wanting you with every fiber of his being, wanting to touch you and hold you and never, ever let you go.

oh, he’s too far gone to even feel sheepish about how he’s almost shaking now, hands trembling and breath coming fast as he’s barely keeping the reins on his self-control.

dean’s trembling sends a shiver down your spine. even after you just said all that, he still wanted this.

you might die.

or you were already in some version of heaven that jack made up.

because dean wanted you.

“just lemme kiss you,” dean would be embarrassed of how desperate and out of breath he sounded if he could give two damns. he says your name again: “please—”

dean can’t even think straight anymore. yet, never could when it came to you. his hands go to your thighs, gripping tight like it’s all he can do to resist the urge to just flip you over right that moment.

you can’t hold back anymore.

neither can he.

so you don’t.

you close the final distance between you both, taking his mouth in a kiss that’s hard, desperate and full of years’ worth of emotion.

and dean’s lips felt like home. and that’s a weird thing to say, but it was true. you’d never kissed him before this, but it really was him that you’d been missing all this time.

your hands on dean’s face trail into his hair, and you could feel yourself completely melting into him when you pull myself closer to him in his lap, hips fully slotting with his own— and you both groan a little at the feeling.

dean kisses you like a goddamn starving man, his hands gripping at your thighs so hard he’s afraid he’s leaving marks. but he can’t bring himself to care, because he’s finally kissing you. finally having you in the way he’s only dreamt of.

dean hasn’t been touched— kissed like this, ever.

like he’s something precious. to be loved. it makes him feel weak. but he can’t really bring himself to care about that, either.

all you could think about was how good dean smelled. and as his lips danced with yours, he even tasted good. like whiskey and something you couldn’t place— but it sure as hell was definitely dean.

and god, it’s perfect. dean’s trying to swallow the little noises his mouth is threatening to make again as you kiss him back, kissing him like you feel the same— he thinks he’s losing his mind for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

dean’s grip on your thighs tightens even more. he couldn’t help it anymore— he rocks you against his lap, his hips bucking up against yours in an involuntary but much needed movement. and a little sound pretty close to a whimper does escape him this time, hitting your lips as you grind your own hips down onto him.

you had to break your lips from dean’s to get stupid air, but your forehead rests against his as one of your hands unlatches itself from his hair, trailing downward on the fabric of his henley as you’re in his lap.

and you’d tease him about the noises he’s making— if it wasn’t leaving your underwear a complete and sopping mess because of it.

dean’s mind is hazy, lost in the feel of you against him and in his lap, his mind trying to keep up with all the things happening.

he’s a hunter, goddamn it.

he needs to get a freakin’ grip.

but he can’t.

because of the way your kiss felt like a drug. the way you’re so close he can feel your breathing, and the way you’re grinding up against him like you mean it—

and then dean feels your hand on his shirt, sliding further down past his stomach, and he feels like he’s about to go insane. he’s hallucinating, under some sort of spell that shows you what you’ve always desired. that’s the only plausible explanation.

but this was real. oh, so real.

dean’s hands were still holding on for dear life on your thighs, but your own was still going farther and farther down the fabric of the henley he was wearing, stopping at the hem and tugging on it, talking against his lips—

“put your arms up f’me, dean.”

goddamn, if that doesn’t make him literally shiver when you say his name like that, all breathless and pretty.

and dean follows the instruction, raising his arms and letting you pull the shirt over his head, revealing his the skin underneath.

he’s not even embarrassed of his scars, the marks on his body from over the years. not with you. the uneven skin told their own tales he wouldn’t dare open his mouth about, even after three whiskeys deep.

you discard dean’s shirt somewhere in his room without another thought when he lifts his arms up.

you’ve actually only seen dean shirtless twice— once after a hunt, and if you count that one time when that motel room with shitty air conditioning that got too hot last summer. you kept your eyes glued to the lore in front of you then, not daring to look.

this time, however, you couldn’t look away.

not even if you tried.

your lips are parted in what could only be described as pure awe while your eyes and fingers rake over every inch of new skin revealed while still in dean’s lap. first trailing a path up his exposed arms as your eyes continue to drink in all the details of him you’d never thought you’d see.

dean has never, ever been looked at the way you’re looking at him right now.

your fingers continue to trail up dean’s arms, fingertips grazing on the scars you could see in the dim light of his room. you actually knew some of them— having been there when he sustained the wound that made the scar, but a lot were new to you.

and you wanted to memorize it all.

it’s almost embarrassing how he feels like something to be worshipped under your touch. like someone to be taken care of. to be cherished.

as your fingers trail up his arms, he has to bite down on a whine in the back of his throat— forcing himself to keep still under your gaze as you rake your gaze over him. his voice is rough and hoarse when he manages to speak, but all he could get out was your name.

your hands found themselves resting dean’s shoulders while you take in the breathtaking view that is him under you, meeting his gaze when he says your name, voice just as quiet as his.

“yeah, de?”

your touch feels like dean took the jumper cables he had in the back of baby and put it against his skin. but it’s so soft, so gentle. it’s also making his whole body ache, yet he just wants more. and he can’t keep his eyes off you, either. the way you’re looking at him, at his scars like they’re nothing to be ashamed about… it’s almost safe.

dean swallows, hands coming to rest on your waist now that he’s topless. his voice sounds wrecked, broken.

because he’s begging.

“touch me.”

dean’s hands on your waist were making your heart beat all out of rhythm— and you almost completely lose your train of thought looking into his green eyes, wide and blown out.

for you.

you just nod at dean’s words— and your fingers continue their journey downward from dean’s shoulders, trailing over his skin until you eventually reach the waistband of his boxers, and you keep your hands there on the fabric when you look back up at him.

because you still needed to know:

“can i take these off?”

oh, for the love of—

dean nods rapidly before you’re even done asking, because he’d do anything, anything, to have you touch him like he had been not just a few minutes earlier— in fact, he’s already lifting his hips off the bed to make it easier for you, because he’s not about to hesitate. he needs you. he’s needed you for too goddamn long.

and when you manage to pull off dean’s boxers, discarding them in one fell swoop after he confirms and lifts his hips for you, your eyes widen at the sight of him completely exposed beneath you on his bed— and a quiet ‘jesus christ’ escapes from your lips before you can stop it.

and your reaction makes dean’s breath hitch. because it’s not a disgusted one— it’s the exact opposite. he feels vulnerable like this, exposed to you in a way he’s never been to anyone else. he should feel embarrassed. but he doesn’t, oddly enough.

his voice is so goddamn quiet when he bites down on another whine.

“please.”

and you just nod again. then both your hands find dean’s chest once more— and you start trailing a path down his lower torso with your fingers.

dean can’t help the way he lets out a strangled moan at your touch against his bare skin. with no clothing in the way to block it, he’s so much more sensitive. every single touch makes his breath hitch, his head spinning with how perfect it feels.

it’s too much.

and yet, he needs more.

dean’s hands find your hips again, gripping, trying to get you even an inch closer to him.

and as your fingers get lower and lower on dean’s stomach, you hesitate your hands. not because you weren’t sure— but it felt… well, wrong not to at least ask him for permission first.

so you look back up and meet dean’s gaze, eyes searching his again as you whisper, shifting closer to him in his lap.

“can i go lower?”

and at your question, a sharp shiver wracks through dean’s whole body— he’s half convinced he’s going to to just cum right there, even if you don’t end up touching him.

dean’s practically trembling under you now, hands gripping tighter on your hips. he tries to speak again, to say something— but his voice comes out in a strangled moan.

all he can do is nod against his headboard.

a soft exhale escapes you when dean confirms. you nod— and don’t hesitate again.

not when he was like this.

you take all of him in one of your hands— but you don’t even try to look away from his face while you do so. because you had to see his face for this.

and dean feels like the air’s getting ripped from his lungs at how good your touch feels. he’s never felt anything like this before. it could be the fact that he hasn’t had actual sex in a while (apparently, he’s considered old now), or purely just because of you.

yeah, but dean’s never been touched like this before. so goddamn gentle. but it’s still perfect. his eyes are still locked to yours, and his expression looks pained. it’s all too much, after wanting this for so long.

and all he can do is whisper your name before your hand starts to move.

you start starts slow— not too slow, though, because dean had already fucked his palm tonight more times tonight than he’d like to admit.

dean’s eyes actually flutter shut for a moment when your hand starts to move, a moan catching in the back of his throat. because it’s barely even started, and it’s so good. too good.

dean’s hands on your waist are close to shaking now, but he has to speak— even as it comes out in a hoarse croak.

because he needs—

“more. jesus, i need—”

you don’t even entertain the thought to tease dean or not do as he asked— because the sounds he was desperately trying to keep in were making you want to keep going, to not stop.

so you don’t stop. your hand speeds up, going back and forth on dean’s dick— and your gaze still doesn’t leave his while in his lap, touching him in the way you’ve always wanted to for so long.

and when you pick up the pace, dean’s breath hitches even more— god, it’s so good, but he still needs more. his hands are shaking as they grip tight on your waist, and his eyes somehow keep your gaze, even as his head feels like it’s spinning right into his headboard.

dean manages to get out his next request, in a begging whisper of a breath. he’d be ashamed if he wasn’t so desperate.

“please— please, i need—”

“its alright,” you nod before he can finish this time, leaning your head and pressing a kiss on his cheek. “i gotcha, de.”

and that’s it. you say those words and dean feels like he could cum right there. he’s already so close, just from your touch, the way your hand’s moving so beautifully up and down on his dick. the way you’re looking at him. he tries to keep his eyes open, too— to keep looking at you, but everything you’re giving him is starting to overwhelm him, he can hardly even breathe anymore.

dean glances down at your hand between both of you— big mistake, because the sight of your fingers around his dick and covered in him makes him let out strangled whimper. he bites down on his lip hard, his head falling back against the headboard and his eyes screwing shut. because it’s embarrassing how close he is to cumming in your hand.

you notice, of course— your hand doesn’t let up, but your other hand on dean’s shoulder goes to the side of his face, thumb grazing on his cheek. it’s a stark contrast to what you’re doing to his dick.

“de, its okay,” you reassure dean as his breaths become more and more unsteady, eyes flicking over his face. “you can let go if you wanna.”

and that’s it. that’s all it takes.

as soon you give him permission, dean’s gone.

his body suddenly goes rigid, then he’s bucking his hips into your hand so erratically and sloppily you would’ve been knocked from your position on dean’s lap if he hadn’t buried his face in your still clothed chest, tightened his arms fully around you and pulled you closer to him. he cums loud and hard, a mixture of soft groans, whimpers, swears and pants of your name spilling into the fabric of your shirt.

you’d never heard him like this before, ever.

but dean winchester— the man, the myth, the hunter god, was whimpering as you’re in his lap.

for you.

because of you.

and because it’s all too damn much— the way your hand feels, the touch of your thumb against his face, the look in your eyes when you said that it’s okay for him to let go of the tight rein he’s been holding onto for so long.

dean can feel himself shaking and still coming apart under you as you guide him through it, his face buried in your shoulder as you pull every last bit of pleasure out of him that he has with your fingers. he’s never felt so goddamn free before. he’s never come apart, not like this— not completely exposed like this.

dean’s hands are still shaking as they rest your waist, his entire body almost trembling with it being still so overwhelming. but it was perfect. and he needs to say that, to tell you that it was everything he’d ever wanted—

“please— please, just kiss me.”

and that comes out of dean’s mouth instead. you’d barely started to wipe your hand when the words spill out in a plea— a beg into your shirt. you’re a little surprised that was the first thing he said post-orgasm.

but still, you lean back just enough after dean says that, bringing your free hand to the side of his face while still in his lap, your gaze flicking between his in the dark of his room for just a moment before you lean back in, pressing your lips onto his again.

dean doesn’t hold back now. he doesn’t care about the mess he just made, the way he sounded, or the fact that he begged you to kiss him after you just made him cum.

he kisses you like a starved man, like the air he was breathing needed to come from your mouth and not any other source. his hands move to the back of your hips, gripping your shirt tight and pulling you even closer to him on his lap, now that your hand wasn’t between you both anymore.

dean tears his lips off of yours— and he is still just barely coming back to himself. his brain still hazy from pleasure, from you, but he tries to get out words because he needs to tell you how much he still wants, needs you. his hands grip tight on your hips, like he’s afraid you’ll just get up and leave if he lets go. his voice is still wrecked when he only manages to whisper your name again.

you don’t move out from dean’s lap, though. you stay pressed against him, his skin so warm and flushed against your own. neither of you had to say anything to know how intimate this all was. dean should be attempting to at least do something besides burying his face back in your shirt.

but you don’t let dean stay like that for too long. your hands go to the sides of his face, holding his head as you tilt it back to look up at you, searching his gaze as you continue to straddle him. and your own voice is a whisper, too.

“y’okay?”

and god, dean feels like his entire body’s just come apart again at that single word, because how do you answer a question like that.

dean has to take a breath, because he still feels the aftermath of it. everywhere. he nods, once— because he’s better than even alright. then again, because he has to tell you that, too.

“yeah,” he manages to get that out, and it’s still so damn wrecked, so out of breath. “more than okay.”

“okay, good,” your gaze softens and you nod when dean confirms that he was okay— and your other now-clean hand finds the side of his face when he looks up at you. a small smile tugs on your lips as your thumbs graze on his cheek. “just checkin’.”

dean’s blown-out eyes are still locked to yours as you brush your thumb against his skin, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of feeling you touch him like this.

it’s so tender. so soft.

and dean’s just… lost. in you.

but dean does finally manage to speak again, his voice still hoarse as his hands release from your hips start to trail down, calloused fingers rubbing gently on your exposed thighs and saying your name like a prayer. “god, i need—”

you keep dean’s gaze still— but not before glancing down to see his hands on your bare thighs in his dimly-lit bedroom as you straddle him.

dean’s hands looked like they belonged on you.

felt like it, too.

one of your own hands reaches down from dean’s face to his on your thigh, grasping on his fingers with yours.

“tell me what you need,” your voice is still a hush of a whisper, but remains completely and utterly genuine as you search dean’s gaze. “de, tell me what you need me to do, and i’ll do it.”

holy goddamn.

dean’s breath actually stutters a little at that, because you sound so ready, so willing— he can’t help but let those last three years of pining, of wanting you, of hoping show as he looks up at you.

“ride me. please.”

the words come out in a half-choked plea. dean’s so damn desperate for you, he’d beg. hell, he was begging in the darkness.

and you weren’t about to say no.

your hands take themselves off of dean’s face and hand, lifting your leg to discard your sleep shorts, then your (soaked) undies— then going to the shirt that you’d still been wearing, grabbing the hem of it and tearing it off, discarding it somewhere in his room before reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

and when that finally comes off, too, dean’s entire damn body tenses. because he felt like the air had just been ripped from his lungs.

again.

he’s seeing you more exposed to him, for him than he’s ever seen you before— and the sight of you like this is goddamn perfect. you’re so perfect.

dean’s hands tighten on your thighs, his eyes taking in the view of you like a man starved.

“holy—”

there’s a thousand words he has for you right now. things like beautiful, perfect, mine. but he can’t get them out yet. because his brain is still trying to catch up from the fact that you’re actually here and naked in his lap.

both of dean’s hands reach for your hips as he’s still staring up at you in awe, his fingers gently but almost greedily gripping on you— because he wants to touch you so bad that he wants to let out a goddamn sob. because no one has ever felt like this for him.

because no one has ever come close to the way he craved you.

your eyes meet back up to dean’s green ones once again. you didn’t have to tell him anything or even say something else.

so that’s why you just nod, then reach down between you both once more, starting to fully sink yourself on dean’s dick— all while still keeping his gaze while you let your hands rest on his shoulders, a exhale escaping you both.

you not even halfway on his dick, and dean thinks he might bust again right then and there. his fingers dig into your hip, all while a groan escapes his parted lips: “ah, shit—”

and oh, he’s big. it takes you a second, but you sink down completely on top of him, your pussy sucking him all up— dean feels like he can’t breathe. again. the sight of you like this is gonna fuel his jerk off sessions for the rest of his goddamn life.

dean’s not sure if it’s possible, but he uses his hands on your hips to gently just pull you even closer against him— which ended up being a mistake, because you involuntarily clench around him. his head drops in between your tits at the action.

and.

he.

whines.

“f— fuck—”

yeah. dean just whined at the feeling of being inside of you, eyes screwed shut and everything as he buries his face deeper between your breasts— you can feel the pant of air and his lips on your skin.

dean’s fingers lace together with yours fully, holding your hand tightly while his other is still gripping tight on the meat of your hip, finally taking his face off of you to look up at you above him.

and oh. you’re a goddess, at least. not something heavenly though, because angels are dicks— but you look unreal as you look back down at dean, your mouth just a little parted from feeling him.

dean twitches a little inside you as he tries to find words, just a few, to tell you how much he wants this— or at least to tell you to move.

all he can get out, though?

“p— please.”

you don’t have to ask for clarification.

you know what dean’s asking for.

so you give it to him.

you grind your hips—and dean whines a little again at that— down onto his just once, testing the waters before you find a rhythm.

and dean feels his entire brain just go on complete and total motherfucking overdrive. because this is it. he’s finally getting the most intimate part of you, the part he’s been wanting for so damn long— he literally can’t see straight anymore. that’s how good it feels. how good you feel.

dean’s head goes in between your tits again, still holding your hand as you move your hips on top on him, grinding down on his dick. his other arm goes around your waist, pressing himself against you and gripping you tight in an attempt to steady himself— but it barely helps. his eyes screw shut again, and he’s letting out another whimper before he can stop it.

“fff— oh, fuck—”

a moan drops from your mouth, too, but it’s nothing compared to the sounds dean’s making, gasping and groaning into your skin as he fucks up into you, meeting your movements. his dick is brushing on that spot that makes you groan— and kickstarts your urge to go faster.

so you do.

dean can’t control anything right now. his hips are bucking up into you erratically, the movements only being stunted a little due to how strong your thighs were around him as you straddle him.

your hand not holding dean’s goes into his hair as you’re both pressed together for a better grip— and dean almost sees stars. he groans a little again, his breaths coming in hard pants on the skin between your breasts.

and the praise falls from your lips onto dean’s ear before you can stop it—

“you’re doin’ so good, de.”

dean feels like he’s gonna cry. just from how perfectly good you feel on top of him— and he’s making the most delicious noises that sound like words but it’s just broken moans mixed with whimpers. his hand on your hip tightens to the point it’s almost painful, but you don’t mind all that much.

“ah, don’ worry, i gotcha,” you whisper against dean’s ear again, your hand tightening on his as you let out a rough exhale, chest heaving rapidly against his as your movements don’t falter once. “you’re doing so good f’me, dean.”

dean’s not in control of the sounds that come out his damn mouth anymore— the praise goes straight to his dick, straight to the familiar burning building low in his tummy. it’s just all swearing, sounds of your name and incoherent begging being said into your skin.

“ah— shit, fuckin’— please—”

dean’s not even trying to stop the words from rushing out of his mouth right now, even if he sounds pathetic. because it all feels so goddamn good, and he’s being so good— for you.

and dean can feel nothing but you right now, in every sense possible. everything else has been long gone, and he’s been so goddamn wrapped up in how good your pussy feels around his dick.

dean gasps for air, because wants to tell you that you’ve ruined every living thing for him in the entire goddamn universe forever.

he wants to tell you that he’s about to cum— again.

“jesusfuckin’christ— oh, please—” is what comes out of him instead.

the words are barely intelligible, and dean’s whole body is starting to tense underneath you as he manages to choke out a ragged cry of your name. your hand is still gripping hard onto his own, the other burying itself deeper his hair. you needed to hold onto him right now. shit, you needed a sec.

because dean winchester was begging to cum inside of you.

you almost stop grinding down on him for a second— the keyword being almost.

you just nod against dean’s head still buried in your tits, holding him against you as you talk into his ear again.

“go ahead, baby.”

dean almost sobs again when you say that. he lets go completely just as before, his hands’ grips becoming painful on you as his whole body shakes and convulses against yours, the movements of his hips becoming so erratic once more as he’s painting your walls with his… sixth? seventh? load of the night— only this time, it’s inside of you. and he’s making every sound in the book: whimpers, groans, a whine here and there, too.

you came, too— but honestly, if you didn’t, you would’ve been fine either way. seeing and hearing dean come apart like this was enough to last you a lifetime.

you don’t know how long dean and you stay like that, pressed into each other and panting, fluids mixed together, spilling out and sticking all over your thighs— but even as you pull back just enough to look down at him, dean’s still trembling under you, long after both your orgasms had surpassed their high, melting into a thick haze between you two.

dean can’t look at you— or won’t, but either way, your hand in his hair trails to the side of his face, and you gently force him to look up at you.

dean swallows hard, and his face flushes. the embarrassment was finally, finally starting to set in now that he’d fucked you and himself out. he braces himself for the teasing, the jokes— and the look on your face.

but you weren’t looking down at dean like he was pathetic, or weak. you never did— and you sure as hell weren’t about to start now, after he’d just shown you every side you’d wanted to see of him.

no, you just smile a little, eyes flicking between dean’s as your thumb grazes on his cheek. he can’t help but lean his head into your palm as you exhale your next words out in a breath—

“that was really fuckin’ hot.”

───────────────────────── 𖤐

you now have two ( 2 ) new messages from the author ! ↓

heyyyyyyy guys… soooo how we doin’? LMFAOOOOOOOO this has got to be the longest i’ve ever spent on a fic (only for dean wbk!)

and i know i said this last time, but on a real note: if you have stayed to the very end— first, THANK YOU FOR READING! and second, if you enjoyed, please consider SHOWING ME THAT ( reblogs / comments / etc ) because this took me FOREVER to write (again). i would love to know if my efforts are worthwhile!

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#faith’s works . . . @bejeweledinterludes!#dean winchester x reader #sub dean #supernatural #dean winchester #spn #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean smut #dean x you #dean x reader #dean supernatural #gif from pinterest!

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kitten4sannie · 11 months ago

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blinding faith (1)

fall in line now, bow your head

pairings: cult leader! yunho x disciple! reader (fem) x elder! mingi feat. husband! seonghwa

genre: twisted religious romance (if you can even call it that), smut, late 1970s setting

summary: when it’s revealed that you and Seonghwa are having trouble conceiving, the founder graciously offers his own divine solution.

bend your knee, Child of God

w.c: 4k

warnings: aged up dom! yunho, switch! mingi, subby innocent (?) reader, corruption kink, pet names (for mingi too <3), light pain kink, perversion, major sacrilegious vibes and behavior, heavy mxm, mingi sucks cock, breath play (m receiving), light spit/sweat kink, oral (receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, implied marathon sex, breeding kink, cum eating, squirting, an attempt at impregnation

a/n: this is dedicated to my loveliest lily <333 tho this is just part oneee i hope this helps you see the light if ykwim~ happy birthday babi 💕 so yeah this is pure filth,, like idk something must’ve happened to me when i wrote this but it’s prob bc i’m a yunwhore what can i say 🙂‍↕️🫶🏼 oh and thank you all so very much for getting me to 4.6k followers ;; it means the absolute world to me >< anygaysss happy readinggg and please do lemme know if you’re excited for the second part 🖤

song recs: sunshine of your love by cream - starboy by the weeknd - judas by lady gaga (i’m just a Holy Fool, oh baby, it’s so cruel, but i’m still in love with Judas, baby~~)

As a broke, faithless runaway, especially during such a turbulent decade, you didn’t have many options, to say the least. There was no phone that you could use for miles, not a single soul in sight that you could ask for directions or for a dime they could spare, no map to look at to familiarize yourself with your surroundings — not that it mattered. Why would God provide you with what you needed when your existence itself was an accident? Your own flesh and blood didn’t want you, instead dropping you off at some rundown orphanage while you were still coated in your mother’s vernix caseosa, and crying incessantly for her, for someone, to feed you.

When you were old enough to make rash decisions, you decided that anywhere else was better than that hellish place, tired of waiting for a new pair of faceless parents to force you into their life like a misshapen puzzle piece, instead taking your fate into your own trembling hands.

That was what led you to come across the small, seemingly abandoned town that was located within the forest that you had been wandering inside for so long. All of the quaint, hand-built houses and buildings surrounded a tall, white picturesque church — one you had recognized from the various postcards that you and some of the other orphans had been handed by someone in a long white robe outside of the orphanage, listening intently to their promises of the love and acceptance you would feel if you joined their cause.

And that was when you met him, the man that would alter your life forever, taking away what could’ve been, and instead molding it into what He wanted, what God wanted.

He was hammering in the very last nail into the very last board of wood that kept the church together when he heard the sound of your dirty feet shift through the forest foliage behind him. As if he had been waiting for your arrival, he hummed softly and headed into your direction, not giving you the opportunity to escape when his sweaty, calloused hands enveloped yours, inviting you in with his friendly honey brown eyes, his cracked lips twisting upwards into a smile that sent a wave of instinctual fear into your heart, before his soft, warm words lured you in, forever holding you captive.

“You’ve finally arrived, my child. Welcome home.”

Over the years, you were taught by Yunho, your beloved leader, your savior, your everything, that God allowed those he loved the most, those that remained tied to their earthly bonds, to endure deep suffering and endless tribulations — because within that pain, within that humiliation, laid pleasure. Unimaginable pleasure that sat just below the surface. Yunho took great satisfaction in reaching into the darkness, into the depths, and ripping it out with his silver trimmed talons, always willing to graciously bestow it upon his followers.

There was no greater joy than to witness the moment his dear flock began to walk in the truth. He savored the sweet sounds of ecstasy that tore out of their sweat-ridden throats, longed for the moment their rosy faces ceased their contortions, their lips, wet with saliva, their unfocused eyes, wet with tears, knowing that another one of his beloved disciples had seen the light. And they would always look up at him with delicious desperation, begging for another chance to catch a glimpse of heaven once more. And, only because of his unending benevolence and boundless love, he brought them back, expecting nothing in return, except for their undying loyalty.

Yet, none of them were ever as loyal as you, even after you met a lovely man within the congregation to wed. You were still his angel from above. If only he had clipped your wings sooner.

There you were, sitting inside the garden with the other couples, the prettiest flower of them all, just waiting to be plucked, with your husband’s arms wrapped around you from behind, his hands resting gently against your stomach, your hands over his, your head hung downwards, a small, sullen frown gracing your lovely face. Why was his sweetest lily wilting the way she was, instead of holding herself high, closer to the sun, to his everlasting love?

As soon as Yunho made his presence known within the bountiful garden that he had planted with his own two hands so many years ago, his followers grew quiet and offered him their full attention. He basked in it as he made his way in your direction, offering his touch to many of the people nearby, allowing them the privilege of bringing his jewelry-adorned hands up to their cheeks, which he caressed, or their trembling lips, which he brushed gently with his thumbs.

The warmth and light of the sun on your face suddenly disappeared, causing you to look up, your reddened eyes growing wide upon the sight of your savior standing before you. You watched with bated breath as he reached his hand out from behind his back and brought it up to your face, placing a small flower behind your ear. “Savior…”

“Savior, what have we done to be blessed with your presence?” Seonghwa asked, nuzzling his cheek into Yunho’s rough palm once he offered it to him.

“I wanted to check on the progress of your union.” Yunho smiled kindly down at Seonghwa, before returning his attention to you, who continued to gaze up longingly in his direction. “Are you with child, my dearest Y/N?”

You bit down into your bottom lip, your eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, Savior….We’ve been trying our hardest to contribute to your beautiful congregation, yet I remain barren.” You shook your head out of frustration, a stream of tears spilling down your cheeks. “We don’t understand why God has not graced us.”

“Oh, my sweet child. Do not ever allow yourself to cry for sorrow, or pain, but out of joy, of pleasure,” Yunho taught, angling his head down further to gaze at your deliciously distraught expression, unable to keep himself from running his tongue across his bottom set of teeth, pressing one talon underneath your chin, so that you obediently angled it upwards without him having to tell you.

“Yes, Savior…” you whispered, gasping softly at the feeling of the cult leader’s sharpened fingers carefully wiping your remaining tears away, your admiration and love for him sprouting more and more within your beating heart.

Humming, Yunho lowered himself to his knees in front of the both of you, pressing his hands into your stomach through your thin garments. His benevolent smile deepened, his eyes displaying a darkness neither of you could see, not with the allusive veil he had placed over your own. “I will assist you in bearing offspring, my dear. Please come to my bedchambers after supper, and I will show you the true meaning of faith.”

“We offer you a thousand thanks for your grace, Savior…” Seonghwa bowed his head to Yunho, just before he pressed his lips lovingly against your cheek, which you reciprocated without hesitation. Your dear husband sighed with great relief, resting his temple on yours, his long, curled locks tickling your face, his hands returning to your stomach, placing them over Yunho’s this time around.

Despite the tranquility you felt, the sun still shining, a gentle breeze cooling your warm skin, the comforting smell of earth and flowers keeping you grounded, the sound of birds chirping in the trees above your head — there was still something else that you couldn’t quite shake off, something that sat just below the surface of your distorted mind. If you truly wanted to see what it was, you would have to get your hands dirty and dig it up yourself. But, for now, you would live in bliss, in heaven, feeding off of the love and mercy your savior offered you.

Yunho tilted his head to the side, reaching up to adjust the flower that began to fall from your ear, pushing a few strands of hair behind it. He studied your suddenly unreadable gaze from underneath his wispy lashes, his tongue just barely slipping past his curled lips to lick at them. “Is there something on your mind, my lily?”

You simply smiled back at him, your eyelids lowering, batting your own lashes at him. “I’m just admiring my savior and the safe haven he created for us. Makes me want to cry those tears of joy.” You briefly mirrored the perversion he had let slip out only a moment ago. “Of pleasure.”

It was then that Yunho began to grow stiff from beneath his heavy garments, biting at his lip as an attempt to keep himself grounded. This was why you were his favorite. You were his flower to water, to grow, and to tear away from your roots as he pleased. Everything in the garden was his, after all. God told him so.

“My love, my heart, my dearest angel, why do you look at me this way? With those tears in your eyes? With such devotion?” Yunho sighed out against your flushed cheek, his body flush against yours, the cold metal of his rosary splayed across your hot skin. You simply couldn’t speak, not with the way he was spilling inside you yet again.

The corners of his lips quirked up into a sadistic smile, his warm, uneven puffs of breath hitting the bottom of your jaw, as he clutched your slick, trembling thighs, holding them farther apart to ensure that he could continue accessing the heaven you kept in between them, the hot, wet haven you allowed your savior to access. “Is it because I’m filling you with my own devotion? Does knowing that my seed will soon grant new life inside of you bring you to tears, Y/N?”

You gazed up at your savior past your wet lashes, reaching down to press your hands into your stomach, feeling the outline of his pulsing cock that twitched inside of you and dribbled a few more beads of cum into your womb, a lust-struck expression carved into your flushed features. “It would be an honor to carry your young, Savior. I’d do anything to carry on your legacy of love.”

“Anything, my dear?” Yunho whispered carefully near your ear, as though he were testing you, before running his tongue along your jaw to get a taste of your essence, slowly making his way down your body, unable to keep himself from tasting your salty skin along the way. “Even though Seonghwa is your beloved husband?”

“Anything. I might be his wife, but you’re my savior, Yunho,” you sighed lovingly as a delightful shiver shot down your spine, not a single doubt present within your meticulously molded mind. Your ideas of the world, your life, its purpose — your saving grace had always been Yunho. How could he not be? Considering he built you himself, with great precision and care. You were the intricate tapestry he painstakingly sewed together year by year, each painful jab of his silver needle acting as a reminder of his divine love for you.

“Say my name again,” Yunho exhaled, his lips ghosting along your abdomen to your navel, unable to keep himself from tonguing it for his own pleasure, his talons leaving red streaks along your skin.

“Yunho,” you repeated, watching as the older man settled in between your thighs, his lips and tongue already exploring your slick entrance, gasping at the sensation of him lapping up his own release once it dribbled out of you.

“Again,” he commanded, his sharp eyes boring into yours from below, pinching your clit in between his teeth, his talons digging into your thighs.

“Yunho..!” You looked down at him with such sincerity, it had the potential to touch Yunho’s corrupted heart, your fingers sifting through his sweat-soaked raven locks, tugging on it once he filled you with his long tongue. You were growing feverish, losing sight of why you were there in the first place. “Don’t stop, Savior…Need more...”

Yunho dragged his tongue over the entirety of your cunt, blowing on it just to make you shudder. “Is that what you tell your husband when you want his cock? What else do you tell him?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, feeling your cunt pulse. “Am I selfish for wanting more of your love? Am I a sinner for wanting you to fill me? I’ll go to hell a thousand times if it means I can have my savior’s love inside me once more...”

The seasoned cult leader’s long-lasting poison was far stronger, far more potent than your sincerities, especially when he administered it to his favorite prey in the most pleasurable, most effective way — with his sweet, saccharine lies that poured out like honey past his shiny, pointed teeth and rough, curled tongue that continued its ministrations on your puffy, used cunt. “Oh, please don’t say things like that, angel. You’ll ruin me for everyone else.”

In reality, you were the one he was ruining, corrupting, defiling — and all in the name of God. It made the cult leader so stiff, he could hardly keep his composure.

You whined softly, shuddering underneath his touch, your hand forming a fist, gripping Yunho’s hair tighter and tighter, the longer he licked at your slit and sucked on your clit like a starved man. “Yunho, please…I won’t last much longer….”

“Would that be such a sin, angel? If you released onto my tongue?” Yunho asked in between lingering licks, his tongue hot and heavy against your leaking cunt, using two fingers to keep your fluttering hole on display for his viewing pleasure, his silver talons gently pressing into your soft flesh. He wondered if he should continue admiring the mess of cum he painted your walls with, or use his saliva-streaked tongue and lips to slurp it out of you, his free hand attempting to milk his slick, throbbing cock. Decisions, decisions.

Yunho wouldn’t have the time to make one, because just then, the cult leader’s most trusted confidant, Song Mingi, knocked on the door and entered without being granted permission, very aware of the privileges he had as a respected elder. The white-haired man saw the nude, disheveled state you were in, your white ceremonial garments laying in a pile on the floor, the love-struck look in your teary, doe eyes, your trembling, marked-up legs still obediently spread open wide for your savior, knowing you’d let Yunho fill and abuse your poor cunt until he saw fit.

“Elder Song, are you going to continue standing there drooling like a dog or are you going to come here?” Yunho asked gruffly, rubbing the pad of his thumb relentlessly into your clit, all while he glowered at the younger man over his shoulder.

Mingi quickly strided over to his leader’s side, sinking to his knees, looking up at him with his apologetic, round eyes. “I…have news, sir. It is of great importance.”

Yunho shook his head slightly, letting out a small chuckle. “The news can wait, Mingi,” the cult leader began softly, reaching over to caress the other man’s cheek, making sure the younger man’s gaze was fixed solely on him. “Can I ask you for something?”

Mingi nodded intently, his lips parted, taking short breaths, as if he was waiting with great anticipation. “Anything, Savior. What do you need from me?”

It was then that Yunho brought the tip of his reddened cock to Mingi’s mouth, drops of pre-cum getting onto his plump, parted lips, his once softened gaze contorting into one of pure perversion. “Can you be a good boy and open up? Hm, princess?”

Mingi closed his eyes, as an attempt to hide the way they rolled underneath his eyelids and the influx of arousal that had spread throughout his body like a virus, his sudden heavy breathing and flushed cheeks betraying him. “Yes, savior,” he moaned out, just as Yunho’s stiff cock filled up his drooling mouth, trying his best not to choke as he repeatedly took it down his tight throat.

Yunho tossed his head back, a few drops of sweat sliding along his straining jaw and staining the bed below, gripping the back of Mingi’s head to make sure he didn’t stop worshiping his cock. “That’s it, princess. You’re taking it so well.”

Mingi groaned wantonly, beginning to grind his own leaking cock against the side of the bed, not even caring that his knees began to ache from being pressed into the hardwood floor below. He found himself gazing down at you, his body on fire from being watched by his savior’s favorite angel, beginning to gag around Yunho’s thick length once he began ramming it down his throat with abandon.

When you let out a small whine from witnessing such a visceral display of power and submission taking place right in front of you, Yunho reminded you with shaky words, “Don’t worry, my angel, this is all for you. Mingi here is going to transfer my love to you once I…Oh, God–”

Mingi’s gaze returned to his savior above, a few tears slipping down his flushed cheeks, his jaw aching from the way Yunho bottomed out completely inside his bulging throat, only to find his oxygen supply suddenly being cut off when the older man pinched his nose.

“You trust me, don’t you, princess?” Yunho asked in an eerily calm tone, not bothering to hide his sadistic tendencies in that moment, throbbing inside the young man’s throat upon seeing his small nods and hearing the tiny, breathless squeaks he made. It was then that he held Mingi completely still until his face began to grow red.

Just when he thought he might pass out, his vision sporting a fuzziness around the edges that reminded him of the television set Yunho had put inside the community room, his throat had finally become unblocked. As he gasped for air, he watched Yunho’s eyes roll into his skull, hot, white ropes of cum splattering onto Mingi’s lolled-out tongue. Before he could swallow, Yunho grabbed his chin and guided him in between your legs.

“Impregnate her, princess. For me,” Yunho whispered into Mingi’s ear, his digits forming a V against your pulsing cunt, spreading you open for Elder Song.

Not letting a drop go to waste, Mingi pursed his lips and sent a wad of cum directly into you, before shoving his tongue in as deep as it would go. He fucked the warm milkiness into you, with sloppy desperation, like the demon dog he was. He looked up to you for approval, which you gave, through your cries of pleasure and your fingers suddenly tugging at his snow white hair. He didn’t even realize he had lost his own composure, until he was whining and whimpering against your slick cunt, soiling his once pristine garments with his sticky load.

Once Yunho watched Mingi pull his tongue out, a few strands of milky saliva connecting his plump lips to your cunt, the cult leader tapped your puffy pussy. “Good boy. Can you fill her up with those thick fingers of yours now?”

Mingi huffed and puffed, trying to catch his breath, his pupils blown wide when he looked to Yunho for guidance. “Two? Three? How many, sir?”

“As many as you need to make sure my seed reaches her womb,” Yunho reassured in a gravelly voice, watching as Mingi hovered over you, drops of saliva falling from his open mouth and onto your pleasured face, easily slipping in three fingers up to his knuckles.

Yunho leisurely flicked, squeezed, and rolled your puffy clit, admiring Mingi’s relentless pursuit in finger-fucking you into a state of pure ecstasy, throbbing at the sight of his precious loads dripping down along the other man’s straining wrist and along his veined forearm. “Very good, princess. She’ll be nice and round soon, thanks to your support. Your hard work won’t go unnoticed.”

Mingi bit down into his bottom lip, a few groans slipping out, despite his effort to conceal just how much his leader’s praise affected him. “Thank you, Savior. Now, I’ll make your angel cry out to the Lord,” he began breathily, locking eyes with Yunho for a moment, their digits working in tandem to send you over the edge, their focus returning to you. “Let it be done.”

“Amen,” Yunho sighed, bringing his precious rosary up to his mouth to kiss, the metal cold against his warm lips.

When you began to writhe around, your focus shifting to the various crosses that were nailed to the wall, your forceful release causing your bruised body to seize up, the cult leader suddenly grabbed your chin with his talons, the tips of them stabbing into your skin, drawing blood, making you whimper. His crazed eyes bored into your barely open ones, looking as if he was about to come undone himself, despite not touching himself. “You see it, don’t you, Y/N? Heaven? Isn’t it beautiful?”

It was all too much. The pain. The pleasure. Elder Song watching closely as your squirt soaked his tan skin and the mattress underneath your jolting body, a demonic smile painting his sharp, seraphic face. Your savior clutching you so tight that you bled, his seed blossoming within your womb. It was then that you fell unconscious, your body falling limp against the feather-filled quilt.

Yunho ran his jewelry-adorned fingers along your jaw, letting them graze your neck, down to the cross necklace that laid against your chest. “What did you need to tell me, Mingi?”

Mingi pushed his sweaty bangs back, taking in a deep breath and letting it out, trying to find his composure. “We have two new visitors. They mentioned Y/N by name, and claimed that they grew up in the same orphanage as her. They were hoping to find her here, so that they could…”

Yunho turned his head to glare at Mingi, his gaze alone making Mingi cower. “They want to take her away from me, don’t they? From us? From God?”

Mingi began to scratch at his neck, leaving red streaks behind. “They believe that they can provide her with a better life.”

“And what life could be better than one of enlightenment? Of purity? What could those heathens possibly offer my Y/N that I can’t?” Yunho suddenly erupted, his anger being directed towards Mingi, who lowered his head down, staring at the cross that hung past his chest.

Yunho’s face twitched slightly, his once rage-filled expression dissipating as soon as it had surfaced, as if it had never been there in the first place. It was a simple trick of the light. He placed his hand on Mingi’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, until the unusually timid man found the courage to meet his gaze. “Mingi.”

“Sir?”

Yunho hummed to himself, catching onto the way your breath hitched, as if you had suddenly held it, his honey brown eyes gleaming with pride, and something else, something indistinguishable. “Offer them a room and dinner, oh, and invite our guests to the annual communion on Sunday.”

“Right away, sir,” Mingi replied, getting up from the bed and exiting the room. He pressed his back into the mahogany door and shut his eyes, carefully sliding his fingers into his drooling mouth to savor the taste of his savior’s seed and his angel’s release.

Once he was alone with you, Yunho reached down to brush a few strands of hair out of your eyes, smiling knowingly at the sight of them opening. “How much did you hear, sweet girl?”

“Enough,” you whispered carefully, as if you were testing him. You might have been the flower inside his clutches, but you still had thorns.

Yunho began to chuckle softly, before it grew louder and louder, his pleased laughter ringing out through the halls.

One of your threads was beginning to come undone. Nothing a little stitching couldn’t fix.

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fashionteahouse · 7 months ago

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Can u do a Seth x lahote sister where everyone thinks he’s innocent and that’s why Paul is ok with him dating his little sister but they get caught by everyone one by one but Paul in a different situation with Seth being a little freaky so Paul and Leah argue saying the other corrupted their sibling lol

haha alright 🙂‍↕️💜 hope you enjoy :)

venus fly - seth x reader

Paul noticed the young boy’s look of adoration. He noticed the extra friendly intentions. Seth wasn’t usually nervous, so Paul noticed moments when he would display the emotion. Every time he brought you around, Seth made sure to show you more attention than others. Paul was the one who brought it to Leah’s attention.

“I think it’s cute he has a little crush.” Leah tells him.

Paul chose not to pay it any serious mind. Finding no harm in a sweet crush, he allows Seth to come around his little sister more.

“Will you go out with me?” Seth one day asks you. He was very nervous, bracing for your answer.

“Yes!” you tell him with a big grin.

Paul spots you two holding hands and he found it sweet. Leah cracking jokes eased the feeling of worrisome. It seemed harmless. It seemed innocent.

“The door needs to be cracked.” Leah tells you two and she finds you two laying next to each other with Seth’s arm around you. She had to push the door open, she wanted to keep a close watch just in case.

A starry night occurred and that’s where you two decided to share a first kiss. Embry walks past and keeps his presence unknown, giving you two some type of space. Paul finds out, keeping in his mind to hope that it goes as far as that. Paul isn’t too worried, he’s confident that you haven’t seen too much of anything to make your mind wonder. Leah has good faith as well.

Jared was over at Paul’s hanging out with him. Walking past your room on his way to the bathroom, he finds you two in a loving position. You were sitting on Seth’s lap with your arm around him and his arm around your waist. The door was wide open so there was no harm being done.

Emily walks in on you two sitting at the kitchen table. You two were lip locked and she chose to turn right back around. You two were in an open space so there was no harm. Just two young people in love and displaying it.

”My brother isn’t home.” you tell Seth one day as you two sit at a park.

“Let’s go. We finally have control over the tv.” he says to you in response.

You two walk with glee and enter your home while your older brother is away until the evening. Flicking through the channels, you two decide to do something you both love to do. Kiss each other.

Paul had a change of plans. Things didn’t go as planned and he had to make his way back home. He enters through the front door and announces his arrival while being in shock at what he finds in front of his eyesight.

Seth jumps at the sound of Paul’s voice and you hurry up off of him. He moves to the other side of the couch.

“What were you two doing?” Paul demands as he looks at the two flushed faces in front of him.

“Nothing.” you reply in a small voice.

“That was a whole lot of nothing. Seth out.” Paul says.

Seth is sad. He’s slowly walking home, not knowing if he can see you again. Paul was visibly angry. Leah catches wind of Seth’s sorrow and calls Paul to ask him why Seth is back from you so early.

“You tell your brother to don’t influence my sister to do anything.” Paul roars into the phone.

“Okay first of all, let’s not pretend your sister was oblivious to the different girls you would bring around.”

“She knew nothing! I know Seth had something to do with it. He told me they were going to be hanging outside just for me to find a hickey on my sister’s neck. Explain that.”

“Okay but you found Y/N on top of Seth. Explain that. Seth would blush just by her name alone.” Leah fires back with.

“Your brother is not so innocent, nice try.” Paul says stubbornly.

“Her last name is Lahote. The corruption doesn’t fall too far from the tree.” Leah says and hangs up.

From that day forward, they were worried about letting you two having space. Extra eyes watched them, doors were never closed, and Paul even made sure kissing never went on for too long.

#twilight wolfpack #twilight wolves #seth clearwater #y/n #twilight x y/n #x y/n #y/n imagines #paul lahote #leah clearwater #twilight fic #twilight #twilight aesthetic #twilight saga #fanfic #la push #quileute #romance fanfic #romantic #seth clearwater x reader

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w2soneshots · 2 months ago

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hii queennn, i love love ur work. anyway i dont really have a strong idea (IM SORRYYY) but i was wondering if you could just write a story more so about reader and her relationship with the sidemen & co (oneshot pleaseee) much loveee xx

Friendships -W2S

words: 0.9k+

warnings: smidge of angst with Freezy, mentions of pregnancy (Faiths), alcohol consumption.

summary: your relationships with all of Harry’s friends, including… the sidemen, the two Cals, Chris, Faith and Talia!!

notes: hello lovely, thank youuu!🫶🏼 I actually love this and decided to do headcannons for each of them (I know you said oneshot but I couldn’t think of a better way to show all of their friendships)🙂‍↕️🤍. I hope you enjoy!!

The sidemen

• You met the boys just two weeks after you and Harry started dating.

• He brought you with him on a night out to meet them and your first impressions were that they were polite and friendly💞

• The first person you hit it off with was Tobi, he was just the most welcoming and seemed genuinely interested whenever you had a conversation😇

• When a good few months had passed and you all knew each other better it was much easier to speak to them.

• JJ and Ethan are pretty extroverted so they were the first (after Tobi) that you really felt comfortable enough to talk to + Harry and Ethen are like a little duo so you were naturally around him more.

• It took a while to have a non awkward conversation with Simon, Josh and Vik but after a pub golf where you ended up on the same team -along with Harry- and all got extremely drunk, it seemed to bring you much closer and you managed to crack the awkwardness.

• Now you're all pretty close and they get excited when Harry brings you along to things, especially JJ... "Yay! Move Harry. y/n!"

Calfreezy

• You didn't take the greatest liking to Freezy when you first met him. You thought he was a little... obnoxious🤗

• It definitely didn't help that Harry lived with him at the beginning of your relationship so he was always there... cock blocker of the century.

• You tried not to ever mention it to Harry since that was his friend after all, you didn't really know him and you wanted to give him a proper chance before you jumped to conclusions.

• You'd share a polite 👋😃 whenever you were over at the apartment and you passed him but that was really the extent of your interactions.

• One day you managed to actually talk to him during the first lockdown when you moved into their apartment and you realised that he was actually kinda fun to speak to, after that your perspective changed.

• Now, years later, you're closer to him than any of Harry's friends and you laugh about the fact you didn't like each other in the beginning😆

Callux

• Cal was just moving out of the apartment when you met him.

• You thought he was sweet and (at the time) you much preferred him to Freezy😅

• You weren't ever super close to him since he was out of the apartment within a few weeks so you didn't have that many chances to speak one to one.

• Though naturally over the years you've spent hours laughing with him, Freezy and Harry during birthdays, new years and whenever you'd get the chance to hang out.

Chris Dixon

• The first time you met Chris was at the fourth charity match in 2022, in which he was on the opposite team but Harry introduced you to him after the game.

• You'd obviously heard his name and Harry had mentioned him quite a few times but it took you until then to actually meet him properly.

• You thought he was funny and you liked the fact he could take a joke without getting offended.

• A month ago you featured in one of his football videos and after filming he complemented you by saying, "well... didn't know you were secretly a baller y/n. I'll have to get you on more of these shoots." Which you were happy about because you actually really enjoyed yourself⚽️

Faith Kelly

• Faith was the first of the girls that you met and you immediately clicked💘

• You thought she had the best sense of humour and always knew how to have some fun.

• Once you, Harry, Ethan and Faith all went on a double date, which you and Faith had to convince the boys to go on because they both thought it was a little "cringe" but you ended up having the best time.

• When she fell pregnant with Olive you were one of the first people she told since she was kinda freaking out, though you were quick to calm her down and reassure her that it was a great thing and you told her that her and Ethan would be amazing parents (you were correct)😌

• Now, you and Harry look after Olive whenever Faith's parents are busy, you've been in quite a few of Faith's youtube videos and the both of you regularly speak to each other + go for lunch whenever your schedules allow🍽️

Talia Mar

• You and Talia actually met before you even knew Harry existed, at an influencer party that the both of you happened to be invited too.

• The first thing she ever said to you was, "you smell fucking incredible babe." And you were so pleased to see that she was a girls girl since the party was filled with bitchy influencers.

• The night was spent drinking the free drinks sat on a pretty couch in the corner of the room while you basically spilled your entire life stories to each other🥂

• You exchanged numbers and sent the odd text but you were both so busy at the time so your friendship kind of died out... until you met Harry.

• "Wait- y/n?" She'd excitedly looked at you when you walked into JJ's birthday party, arm linked with Harry's.

• "You two know each other?" Simon had asked and you were both quick to nod with bright smiles on your faces.

• Once again you spent most of that party with her, yapping away and updating her on everything that had gone on since you'd seen her last.

• Now, you joke about the fact you were actually the ones who were meant to be together since your friendship is practically a rom-com storyline and unironically you have each other's name saved as "wifey" in your contacts💍

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gulnarsultan · 2 months ago

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Girly, give me anything with Yandere Husband Manuel I, please 🙂‍↕️

Hello dear. Thank you for your request. I am very eager to write for this man. I hope you like it.

Yandere husband Manuel I of Portugal headcanon.

~ You were the first child and first daughter of Ferdinand II of Aragon and Isabella II of Castile. You were raised and educated as befits a Princess. When you reached the marriageable age, you married Prince Afonso of Portugal. You traveled to Portugal to start your new life. When you arrived in Portugal, the first person to greet you at the port was your husband's cousin Manuel, Duke of Viseu. Although your marriage was a political match, a warm relationship developed between the two of you. However, your marriage ended when your husband Prince Afonso lost his life after falling off a horse.

~ You returned to Spain upon your family's request. You were heartbroken and in mourning. You gave your family an ultimatum that you would never marry again. Your family tolerated your request at first. Six years later, Manuel ascended to the throne of Portugal. And the first thing he did when he ascended the throne was to ask your parents to let him marry you. At first, you tried to explain softly that you didn't want to get married. Your parents offered him to marry your younger sister Maria. However, Manuel immediately rejected this offer. He was very determined to marry you.

~ Manuel's request to marry you quickly turned into a demand. With the last letter he sent, you were forced to accept the marriage. Because if you didn't accept, it was written that relations between the two countries would deteriorate and even war would start. When you reached Portugal, Manuel himself welcomed you, just like the first time.

~ You got married in a magnificent and perfect wedding. Manuel showed you love and attention. He treated you with care and attention. He made sure that you had a large wardrobe with the most expensive jewelry and dresses made of wonderful fabrics. You had a lot of servants and bridesmaids working for you. Your husband Manuel would regularly report to you to make sure you were eating every meal, drinking enough water and fruit, getting enough sleep and rest, and getting enough sunlight and fresh air.

~ You were pregnant in no time. Manuel was literally on cloud nine. You were going to have a baby that would be proof of your love and a symbol of your commitment to the woman he loved. Moreover, you would now be a family and would stay together forever. Moreover, if your baby was a boy, he would be the future King of Portugal, Castile and Leon, and Aragon. Manuel treated you like you were glass throughout your pregnancy. The most skilled midwives and doctors were already at the Palace for the birth. When the labor started, Manuel didn’t leave your doorstep for even a minute. He was so excited and stressed. He was so afraid that something would happen to you or the baby.

~ When the doors finally opened, Manuel rushed in with excitement. You were lying exhausted on the bed. Your newborn son was in your arms. Manuel had a look of happiness and pride on his face as he approached you. He kissed your forehead and carefully took the baby in his arms. He said, "You did a great job and he was proud of you." Manuel named your son Miguel. He was the Crown Prince of Portugal, as well as the Prince of Asturias and Girona.

~ Being married to Manuel isn't all bad. Apart from jealousy attacks, his outbursts are rare. He is a good husband and a good father. He is ready to do anything for you. All you have to do is ask. In fact, most of the time you don't even have to ask. Because Manuel is a master at understanding what you want, what you think, and what you feel, whether it's from your gaze or your body language. He wouldn't hesitate to go to the ends of the earth to protect you and our children.Manuel never had a lover or a mistress. He remained faithful to you until his last breath.

#yandere historical characters #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere male #dark!fic #yandere headcanons #yandere manuel I of portugal #yandere manuel I of portugal x reader #yandere male x female reader #yandere #yandere king #yandere emperor x reader #yandere emperor #manuel I of portugal x reader

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v6quewrlds · 3 months ago

Text

HIGH MAINTENANCE, JUSTIN HERBERT.

pairing⠀⁎⠀justin herbert x reader.

summary⠀⁎⠀the cliche, "opposites attract" seemed to have been made for your relationship with justin. the internet seems to have trouble keeping that in mind.

author's note⠀⁎⠀requested by an anon <3, my brain is fried so take this smau as an apology while i recover. ik the first pics are from a rams game & the tweet dates make no sense, let's use our imaginations <3 pictures from pinterest & instagram.

nflwagsdaily just posted .ᐟ

nflwagsdaily: looks like herbie's officially off the market! 🚨

eagle-eyed chargers fans spotted a new addition to the herbert family suite during the team's earlier home game. herbert's new belle appeared quite comfy-cozy with his family, donning chargers blue & dark tresses. our faithful internet sleuths immediately got to work, and through some careful instagram research and some very convenient follows, it seems we've tracked her down.

treat miss yourusername well, justin. we're all watching.

view all 183 comments.

user1 and they said my qb couldn't pull

user2 another athlete, another influencer... when will they learn

user3 this poor girl's notifs 😭 -> user4 let's hope she privates her account bc his fans will never let her rest -> user5 NEVER

user6 this is old news? 💀 -> user7 fr deuxmoi has been saying he's off the market since at least march -> user8 since when do we listen to deuxmoi hello??? -> user7 well she was right so now what... 🥴

user9 ominous ass caption what the fuck is going on in nflwagdailylandia? -> user10 deadass 😭😭😭

justinherbert just posted .ᐟ

justinherbert: not much to say other than #boltup

view all 1,273 comments.

simifehoko13 taking the stairs ⚡ liked by author

user11 my qb is so majestic man

yourusername 💙⚡ liked by author -> user12 well there it is... -> user13 they think they're soooo sneaky lmao

user14 look at me, i'm justin herbert. i'm an elite quarterback in the nfl. jim harbaugh is my biggest ride or die. my girlfriend's mysterious and gorgeous. i have amazing hair. i'm a 6'6" multimillionaire who graduated with a 4.0 in biology. man fuck you. liked by yourusername -> user15 dawg 💀 -> user16 u made it big bro -> user14 wanna thank bolt nation for this moment

yourusername just posted .ᐟ

yourusername: well, what do you say we get thrown out of an applebee's?

view 56 comments.

user17 is this a movie reference? 😭 -> user18 a will ferrell reference at that -> user19 of course it is, they're soulmates 😭

yourbestie1 what does he have that i don't? 😔 -> yourbestie2 a stable paycheck and a fat ass -> yourbestie1 ykw -> yourusername 🫷😌🫸 now now ladies we can all get along -> justinherbert i call primary custody -> yourbestie1 no ❤️

user20 not even trying to be messy or anything but what could they possibly have to talk about? -> user21 nfl quarterback... pretty girl... i don't think they do much talking no shade -> user22 i don't think she's trying to be an influencer so maybe she has a job? -> user23 "maybe" 💀

yourbestie2 hair 🙂‍↕️ -> yourusername ty for putting me on bae <3

justinherbert that sound like a good idea? liked by author

user24 i'm sensing a vibe no lie -> user25 travis hunter, now justin herbert. maybe jayden daniels' mom has the right idea 🤷‍♂️ -> user26 she ain't even speak yet? -> user27 she will eventually. -> user28 grown ass men in a gross ass man's business 🙂‍↔️

yourusername has limited comments .ᐟ

nflwagsdaily just posted .ᐟ

nflwagsdaily: justin herbert's girlfriend, yourusername, seems to have had enough of the opinions about her relationship. after limiting her comments last tuesday, she made sure to update her bio before going private. we think this gets the message across quite clearly, don't you? 👏

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user29 that's how you clear a bitch! 🙂‍↕️

user30 she heard the gold digger allegations and had to let y'all know what's up lmfao -> user31 be fr, a software engineer is not making $50 mil a year, she could still be interested in his money -> user32 if that's the case then good for her lmfao

user33 what exactly does this prove though? -> user34 u ppl r never satisfied -> user35 found y/n's burner

user36 mind you the internet sleuths could've just found her very public linkedin profile but whatever it takes lmao -> user37 4.0 from berkeley and they were smearing her name... oh my shayla 😩

yourusername just posted .ᐟ

yourusername: year two <3

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yourbestie1 pls tell me you didn't go to applebee's for your anniversary dinner -> yourbestie2 you know better than to ask a question like that -> justinherbert you mean the place we met? bffr -> justinherbert did i use that right? -> yourusername very proud j ❤️

yourmom congratulations you two ❤️❤️❤️ liked by author

yourbestie2 @ justinherbert where are my season tickets -> justinherbert aren't you a rams fan? 🤔 -> yourbestie2 @ chargers your qb is questioning his fans... action must be taken -> chargers season tickets on us? (we'll take it out of justin's paycheck 🤫)

patherbert5 five big booms liked by author

user38 the people would like to know if you were thrown out of the applebee's? -> yourusername no... but we'll try again next year 🤗

justinherbert happy anniversary beautiful 🌹 -> yourusername and hopefully so many more 💞

#&. cassie writes.#justin herbert #justin herbert fluff #justin herbert imagine #justin herbert x black!reader

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lazyjellyfish300 · 3 months ago

Text

12 𝑫𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑺𝒎𝒖𝒕𝒎𝒂𝒔~𝑫𝒂𝒚 𝑺𝒊𝒙

synopsis: you and Emo!Kento Nanami, your best friend whom you've been in love with for years, had a falling out. But, when you're assigned to be his secret santa, you come up with a meaningful gift you can only hope will fix things between you before the semester is over and you lose him for good.

Words: 12.5k 🖤

cw: MINORS DNI, xFEM! READER, x EMO!NANAMI, COLLEGE AU, ANGST, reader has "emo" aesthetics i.e.:eyeliner, wears certain clothing(obv self indulgence) ,jealousy, social anxiety , some pick me behavior, mutual pining, fluff, shyness, SMUT (protected p in v, Kento's a virgin, makeout, dry hump, oral f and m receiving, fingering, breast play, rough at the end, orgasm)

a/n: NGL it's been a struggle bus lately but I'm doing my best to finish this damn Xmas series. TY for your patience 🙂‍↕️ @actuallysaiyan my Emo!Nanami guiding light and inspiration as always. 🔥

12 Days of Smutmas Masterlist 🎁🎄🎅🏽

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics, pics from pinterest

You linger like a stubborn shadow in the corner of the overheated, loud, sweaty, and cramped Christmas college party at some frat you can't remember the name of with a Jack Daniels tapestry hanging on the main wall and a musty concoction of weed, beer, cigarettes, B.O. and too much cologne.

You fiddle nervously with your red solo cup, tracing over your name written in black sharpie for what feels like the millionth time, trying to act nonchalant and like you weren't on the verge of being overstimulated.

Jeez, even the line for the bathroom is a mile long. Guess that's out of the question. Oh God, everybody's staring. Kitchen. Okay, let's try that.

You wandered back to the kitchen, stumbling over your black knockoff Doc Martens, trying to preoccupy yourself with the surgeon general's warning on the discarded Mike's Hard Lemonade box instead.

Normally, you wanted zero parts of these holiday ragers with too many people. But, when you got the memo you were supposed to be Kento Nanami's Secret Santa, you knew there would be no getting out of this one.

Especially since you had so much to say to him after all of the things that happened between you two in the last several weeks, and the looming end of the semester threatened to put even more distance between you. You just needed him to hear you out, to apologize, clear the air, do whatever you could to make him not hate you anymore.

----

You weren't sure what it was, but once you two went to college, it was like Kento got hit with a sex pollen that attracted all these women that seemed to spawn out of nowhere. The awkward, shy, Kento seemed to become the object of everybody's desire.

But how could they not? He was the most handsome man you've ever seen, and you stood by that fact as his beauty only grew with each passing year you knew him. He was intelligent, a natural whiz and gifted in both the jujutsu and non jujutsu worlds. Despite possessing all of these fine qualities, his humbleness never wavered, clueless even at just what a gem of a person he really was.

You had no option but to grin and bear it like a thorn in your side, resisting the urge to give into that unbearable wave of nausea that would hit you like a train when you spied some random girl's name on his Blackberry or when a group of them batted their lashes at him while you guys ate lunch in the food court.

"Hiiii, Ken!" They'd giggle as they'd walk past, making him blush while you stood there like chopped liver.

But, you knew Kento, and you had faith in his ability to snuff out all of this false flattery. Most of these chicks would have been the very same ones who bullied you two all throughout middle and high school and made your lives a living hell. You suspected they were just wanting an easy A, or to get in his pants. Either way, the feeling made you sick to your stomach.

They didn't know that his parents were high school sweethearts. They couldn't list his favorite songs, or animes. They couldn't guess his orders at every konbini you frequented after class(and it changed from chips and an energy drink or a soda to shitty coffee and a sandwich depending on which one you visited). And they certainly never knew how the tops of his ears would turn pink whenever you caught him staring at you while you were finishing a thought.

No, those were things sacred only to you, and nobody else as his girl best friend. Best friend. Just friends. Ugh.

And while you were grateful for it, it made witnessing all this unabashed thirst over Kento all the more torturous.

He wasn't yours.

You had zero business telling him who he could be friends with, or talk to. You definitely didn't want to come off as the crazy fucking jealous girlfriend before you even had the title. Kento was smart, but somehow the fact that you've been in love with him for years was one puzzle he never cracked.

It was so pathetically obvious. How you'd cancel all your plans for him at the drop of a hat. How you intentionally wore your hair in that way he liked after that one time he complimented you. How awkward you acted whenever you accidentally touched him. How you almost never talked about any other guys around him and noticeably avoided those questions because the one you loved was standing right there.

But it all came to a head when you heard rumors that he might be taking someone else to the winter formal. Some popular girl from a well known sorority. She had rich parents, stellar grades, and a banging body too, just to add even more insult to injury.

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

And how did you cope? By finally texting Atsuya from the football team that of course you'd love to go out on that date you must have wrote him five rainchecks for by now. Always turning him down and putting him on hold in hopes that your best friend would finally wake up after all these years of loving him from afar.

You regretted it as soon as you said yes like a pit that descended to the bottom of your stomach. You ended up canceling out of guilt and pulling the Aunt Flo card, but it looked like the damage had already been done.

You neglected to remember that Kento spent every weekend tutoring the football team in math. You didn't have to guess that Kento must have caught wind of the gossip in the locker room from Atsuya when he went seemingly radio silent overnight.

When you went to meet him in your usual spot to study at the library on Wednesday mornings, he was a no show, and when you texted him, he didn't respond until hours later:

Sorry, had something come up this morning.

Ken? Is everything alright?

Kento?

You called him at least 7 times, embarrassingly enough, and all of them went to voicemail. Finally, he replied:

I'm really busy with exams. I think it's best if we take time apart to focus on our studies and finish the semester.

Was this about Kusakabe? Because if so I can explain...

Silence.

Kento, please.

And he never responded after that.

You didn't push the issue. You knew Kento didn't like to be bothered when he was upset, but God, having him disappear on you like this as though your two favorite hoodies weren't collecting dust in his dresser drawer cut you deeper than any knife.

How do you get over someone who was never yours to begin with?

It seemed like he was dead set on acting like you never existed, like you never saw him when he had nobody, before he became this big shot in college with all the ladies. Like you didn't support him after he lost Haibara and like you didn't have a thousand inside jokes and a shared language between you in the form of pizza, drawing sharpie on his studded belts and each other's notebooks, 80s anime, and loud music that only comes from knowing somebody for so long.

No, it seemed like that Kento you knew was gone, or he was at least acting like he was. And it was all because of stupid jealousy and a date you never actually went on.

The CD that you had burned just for him and clumsily wrapped in Munchlax wrapping paper was weighing in your pocket. You hoped and prayed that even if this was really going to be goodbye, that at least he wouldn't hate you before he went.

----

"Alright *hic*, everyone gather round, gather round."

99% of the attendees are already sloshed as the participants stumble to form a circle around the room for the gift exchange. You couldn't help but notice Atsuya's arm around a mystery date. Seems he took the rejection rather well.

The frat leader stood on a chair in front, yelling incoherent directions you only caught the tail end of, due to the man across the room you couldn't shift your gaze from.

It was Kento, clad in an MCR Christmas sweater with the sleeves rolled up on his forearms(that seemed a little bulkier than you remember), half drunk bottle of Fat Tire beer in his hand, and that amber gaze scanning the room until it came to a stop directly on you.

A noticeable look of shock broke across your face and you looked down immediately. You were certain he caught you, and out of your peripherals you notice he's not phased in the slightest. He simply raises the beer bottle to his lips again, still eyeing you wordlessly from across the room.

The old Kento would have looked away, but this new Kento (possibly emboldened by the free flowing booze), wasn't backing down from you. The rounds of secret santa reveals dredge on from one after another, most of the participants being too drunk to even stand up.

You've lost track of who has who, but you honestly don't care by this point. Your hands are growing clammy and your leg is bouncing more and more restlessly as it approaches your turn to give your gift to Kento.

But, as Shoko stands up next to you and presents her gift to Utahime, you can't help but notice an unknown girl approach Kento from behind, slipping into the seat next to him. Is this the same one he was supposed to take to the dance? You can't tell. There's been so many girls around him by now, you've honestly lost track.

Attention diverted, he turns to her, and she has the audacity to scoot closer and touch his arm. Your mind feels fuzzy as surely the scene playing out in front of you must be a dream. But you only seem to watch it from an out-of-body lense as you see his lips curl into a smile and lean in a little closer to hear what she's saying, their thighs touching.

She's got different hair than you. A completely different style and aesthetic. Probably smart. Probably far more interesting. An absolute knock out. She's the opposite height, opposite build from you. She's the walking antonym of everything that you are not and the ideal encapsulation of everything you wished you could be. She looks so cookie cutter next to him and the soft way he grinned at her looked like one of the special grins he used to give you.

It's too damn much.

The party continues on without interruption when nobody seems to even care or notice that you left. Kento's CD lands discarded on the chair in the wake of hot tears pouring out of your eyelids and ruining your eyeliner as you bolt out of the door.

-----

It's Christmas break, why in the fuck are there no taxis available right now?

You stand pitifully, thumb raised in the snow on the curb trying to hail a cab. You were in no state to drive and your mind was whirring a million miles per hour. At least the agony of what you just witnessed was being temporarily overshadowed by the mind numbing cold the longer you stood out there.

Your mind replayed again all of the times you thought for certain would be the one that he'd finally tell you he loved you. All of the glances, all of the touches that happened by accident, all of the things he remembered about you and the awkward hugs he used to give.

You guess this whole time you were operating with your blinders on. It took you messing everything up and another girl waltzing into the picture for the rose colored lenses to come off and realize that, like always, your mind was right and listening to your heart gets you absolutely nowhere.

No matter how many deep talks and sleepless nights and unspoken words and tears you exchanged over the course of your friendship with Kento, there would always be somebody better. Perhaps he was only ever meant to be nothing more than a friend until he outgrew you completely and the relationship ran its course. You had fallen to the wayside, and you only had yourself to blame for foolishly believing that he was ever worth leaping for.

-----

"Awww looks like emo girl tapped out!"

Kento jerks his head in the direction you once were, noticing the empty chair and small thin present sitting in its place. The girl next to him is still talking, but her voice fades to echoes as he searches, confused, his eyes darting all over when he realizes you must have left.

Kento looks down, his mind traveling somewhere else as the girl continues with her spiel. He puts two and two together, and feels his heart sink in his chest. In all honesty, he knew damn well what he was doing when Christina,(the girl who was now chatting him up and one of his new study partners), came to sit next to him.

He just wasn't expecting you to leave so suddenly. It was childish, he understands that now. And he realizes those feelings that have lingered beneath the surface for you for all these years can't remained buried for long. Maybe he just wanted you to feel how he felt when you agreed to that date with Atsuya.

It crushed him when he found out, so much so that he left the locker room immediately and went back to his dorm and laid down in silence for hours, listening to all the songs he never had the guts to admit were ones that he'd dedicate to you.

He even scored a 73 on his accounting quiz, something completely out of the ordinary for him. But, like most men, he bottled his feelings and chose to run away from the problem by sending you those cold texts.

Time is of the essence with every second that passes that he's not chasing you down in this snowstorm before you slip away for good.

"Hey, look, Christina? I gotta go. Sorry." He mumbled, nearly tripping over his legs as he got up, grabbed his secret santa present, zipped out of the stuffy dorm, and into the night where you disappeared.

-----

"Finally, Jesus Christ..." You murmured as a cab finally pulled up to the curb. The snowflakes started anew, and, combined with the wind chill, were making you tremble like a leaf.

"Wait!!"

Just as you were beginning to step in the backseat, you turned and saw Kento, running at light speed towards you and nearly slipping on ice. Your heart skipped a beat but you turned towards the taxi driver, giving him your address.

"731015 College Road."

"Wait! Shit, goddamn it!" Kento cursed as he skid to a stop, hand outstretched as he stopped the taxi door from slamming in his face.

"What the hell..."

Kento slid in the seat next to you, mumbling apologies as he almost crushed you with his actions, turning red when he caught his breath and was faced with yours and the taxi driver's expressions that were half flabbergasted, half annoyed.

"Same as her." He nodded, realizing his thigh was touching yours and scooting to give you more room, awkwardly looking at the ground.

The driver hmphed and shook his head, tossing his cigarette out the window as he pulled away, leaving you and Kento with no option but to endure the awkward silence of the painful ride.

The dorms you two live in are about 10 minutes away, but it feels like it's been stretched into an hour.

You can hear the scratchy sound of February Stars by Foo Fighters coming through the radio. At least you have that as a distraction.

"So, it's been a while."

"Has it?" You ask sarcastically, folding your arms and shifting your knees to point in the opposite direction.

"Look, I'm sorry..." Kento starts cautiously.

"For what?" You know exactly what you want an apology for, but your pride wants him to say it first.

"For dipping out on you like that." Kento replies, a bit uncomfortable now that the beer he downed earlier was loosening its grip. "For ignoring your calls and texts without hearing your side and being a bad friend."

"I tried to tell you, Kento. But you wouldn't even give me a chance to explain. I hope you had fun with your new girlfriend."

"... girlfriend?"

"Goodbye, Ken."

"Wait-"

The taxi screeched to a halt that made Kento flop back in his seat when you were already opening the door and practically attempting to jump out of the moving taxi.

"Goddamnit!!" Kento seethed again, then handed an extra $20 to the cab driver before jumping out, cheeks blooming red again. "For the trouble."

The cab driver raised his chin, accepting the $20 and driving off with a shake of his head.

Crazy drunk college kids and their relationship problems.

------

Kento called your name as you speed walked towards your dorm. "Stop! For two seconds, please!"

"For what?" You croak with tear streaked eyes.

"So I can tell you that I never went to winter formal. And there's nothing going on with me and Christina. There's nobody."

"Really?"

Kento huffs. "Seriously? You know me better than that. Do you honestly think I'd go to some nightmare dance?"

"I dunno. I thought I knew you, Ken. You've been acting differently lately." You resume walking again.

"How?" Kento asks, chasing you down.

"Nevermind..." You turn to put your key in the door.

"Hey, you left this." Kento hangs his head slightly as he shows you the CD he's holding, the secret Santa present you were supposed to give him.

You feel yourself freeze. "That..."

"It's got my name on it. Was it from you?"

"I mean, it was..." You go back to trying to unlock your door, the keys slipping through your fingers like butter.

Kento stands in front of you, slightly blocking your way. "You're not gonna unwrap it with me?"

You sniff and wipe a couple of tears with your free hand and avert your eyes.

Kento feels his stomach twist with guilt. How he wanted to reach out and comfort you. But the volatility of the situation leaves him unsure. He thinks for a moment, then breaks the silence.

"Look. I have the new Super Mario Bros if you wanna come over." He offers, lowering his voice as he extends this olive branch. "We can chill and do whatever. Maybe have a jam sesh like old times?"

You paused, evaluating this proposition. "For the Wii?"

"I'm stuck on World 7." He blushes.

You scoff. "Bullshit. You're the one always carrying me in that damn game."

"Okay, okay. I haven't started it, actually." He confesses.

"Wait, you haven't, why not?"

"I dunno, it..." He releases a shaky sigh. "It didn't feel right playing without you."

You take a step back, touched and a little dizzy from this whiplash at this realization that maybe he actually missed you after all.

He waits and the silence weighs heavy between you, his ears turning more pink and his stomach somersaulting more violently with each moment you don't respond.

"Please say something?" Kento pleads.

You do a quick appraisal and realize: what's the use? You couldn't say no to him even if you tried.

"What about curfew?"

"Um, well..." He rubs the back of his neck with his hand, subtle slyness in his tone. "I was sorta thinking that nobody needed to know. My roommate's gone for the holidays and it's just me."

You nodded, understanding, but also quite apprehensive with what this could mean. You weren't sure Kento was off the hook completely, but the part of you that missed him pushed you to say yes. You could sort out all of that later. For now you just missed your best friend.

"Okay. Yeah, I'd like that a lot. Lemme get some clothes from my room really quick? And I'll meet you back out here?"

"Y-yeah! Of course. Do whatever you gotta do." Kento blushed again and gave you one of those grins you so missed, relieved they were back.

—

"Ready." You smile at him a short time later as you come out of your dorm with your duffel bag with all the pins hanging off it you mostly bought and didn't shoplift from Hot Topic back in junior high. He smiles at the sight of you in your black Good Charlotte hoodie. One of his, as a matter of fact.

"That mine?" He asks, moving to the side to allow you to walk next to him in the hallway.

"Yeah, you left it here a while back." You respond sheepishly. "It was cozy to sleep in."

Kento can't ignore the warmth he feels everywhere at your admission.

"Glad it could be of assistance." He looks at you fondly as you approach the entrance to his dorm. "You're gonna wanna put that on."

Your breath halts as he carefully adjusted the collar of your hoodie, pulling the hood over your head, making sure your hair is completely concealed.

Kento pulls you in closer against his body as you two walk in the common area, blessing you with a faint concoction of cigarettes, his cologne, and that laundry detergent of his that smelled so good. You were equal parts relieved and flustered to be so close in his proximity.

Luckily there aren't many students up at this hour. A small group of guys sit in a corner with their beers and smokes, and one or two sit by themselves in various parts of the room trying to cram for last minute finals. They barely notice the imposter that Kento's sneaking in, a dark hoodied figure leaning on his shoulder.

"RIP. Man must have drank too much," they think to themselves before paying you two no more mind.

-----

"Here we go." Kento whispers as you arrive at his doorstep. He fishes his keys from his pocket attached to the friendship bracelet keychain you made for him one summer with his initials: KN. You feel a pleasant flutter of your heart when you recognized it.

You walk in Kento's small apartment which is impressively neat and cozy, with posters of his favorite bands on his wall, bookshelves lined with some of his anime figurines he collected and football jerseys and trophies on the other from his roommate.

The small, knee high Christmas tree you found on clearance together at a department store sits in the corner with a mod poge of ornaments you bought from Goodwill, smiling when you see Gary from SpongeBob, a poké ball, and a mac and cheese ornament hanging side by side.

"Make yourself at home." Kento gestures a little bashfully despite the fact that you've been over here many times, setting your overnight bag on the couch and letting you take off your shoes. "You hungry?"

"Hmm, you know what? I am, actually."

Kento smiles. "What sounds good?"

"Umm...what do you have?"

"Well, let's see." Kento strolls over to the kitchen with you in tow. "We have..." He clicks his tongue as he opens the pantry while you open the fridge door. "Granola bars, stuff for PB&Js. Protein powder."

He laughs when you make a face at him.

"Lemme see..." You take the canister of protein powder from the shelf. "Is this your roommate's?"

"Yeah. He makes shakes with it every morning."

"Blech." You shudder.

"Um, oh, we have Gushers." He pulls down the box. "Damn, there's only one." He offers it to you.

"I'm not gonna eat your last Gusher, Ken!"

"I insist." He chuckles. "C'mon. I already ate the entire box by myself."

"Share with me." You fold your arms, unwilling to budge.

"Fair enough." Kento shrugs and opens the pack for you, letting you choose the first one. You grab a blue one and pop it in your mouth with a grin, relishing the blue raspberry explosion on your tongue.

Kento looks fondly at you, popping a green one in his mouth before looking in the fridge with you. "Unfortunately we only have mostly healthy options besides the Gushers."

"Boringg." You poke your head underneath his arm to take a gander at the sparce options. You spy a bag of shredded cheese and get an idea. "Do you have tortilla chips?"

Kento catches your drift. "Yeah, actually. Nachos?"

"Nachos." You grin.

Soon, the countertop is transformed into a makeshift nachos station as you sprinkle the cheese on a high pile of chips in a bowl big enough for you two to share.

As it melts in the oven, you two take to the couch and get a head start on the new Mario Bros. The new propeller power up takes some getting used to, but you can't help the laughs and guffaws that escape you both as you play together, the never ending curse words streaming from your mouth when you lose the power up to a stray Goomba.

And, like you predicted earlier, although you come close to besting Kento in skill level, he's still standing when you two are battling Bowser Jr. and he carries you across the finish line when the shell hit and killed you at the last minute.

"God..." You drop the remote on the coffee table and he snickers as he looks over at you. "Looks like it's time for a break."

You pause the game and go back in the kitchen where you feast on the homemade nachos. Somehow they taste even better at 11 pm as the gooey cheese melts in your mouth, punctuated by the satisfying crunch of the corn tortilla chips.

Kento enjoys it too. His eyes cautiously steal glances of you popping chips in your mouth so casually in his space. He doesn't dismiss the underlying elephant in the room which is the fact that the hour is late and you're alone with these implications between you that neither have been bold enough to give a voice to thus far.

He needs to figure out a way to broach the topic, but he's drawing a blank.

"I have a confession, Ken."

His mind jumps to fight or flight, but his legs keep him right where he is. He wasn't expecting you to start this mid-nacho, but he guesses better to rip the bandaid off now.

"Yes?"

"...I'm still hungry." You throw him that adorable look that you reserved especially for when you were about to be begging for something.

And he's a willing victim in this cute little trap you laid. That wide glimmer in your pupils could get him to do whatever you wanted.

"Well, what were you thinking of getting?" He cocks his head.

"I'm thinking these nachos have me craving Taco Bell."

And who is he to say anything but yes? Especially since the mention of Taco Bell sets off a resounding grumble in his stomach that even surprises him.

"Alright, deal."

----

The hour is well past when you two should be asleep by now, several cheesy gorditas, Cinnabon bites and nacho fries later washed down with Baja Blast and more booze.

You're underneath a blanket next to him on his bed. The twin size of the mattress leaves you no option but to be right up against him with your thighs and arms touching. The mood has certainly shifted, with both of you scared to be the first to acknowledge it.

"Well..."

You can't help but burst out laughing.

"What?" Kento looks at you incredulously. He can't help but nervously laugh along when your wheeze of laughter ends up being more funny than the persistent awkwardness.

"I...nothing." You shake your head, backing down from opening the can of worms yet again.

Kento sighs. "Well, um. Should we open my present before we pass out?"

Your stomach feels that familiar pit building inside it. All the fast food you just ate certainly isn't helping the case either as it does slow somersaults with the reveal you know is coming. "Yeah, go for it."

Kento can pick up on your discomfort, because in all honesty he feels the same. But there's no time like the present. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't dying to know what you got him either.

He sits up, reaching towards the edge of the bed where the present is sitting. He reads the sticker that says in sharpie:

To: Kento 🖤

From: your secret santa

He wonders if his heartbeat is audible on your end as he earnestly tears the wrapping paper off(after appreciating your choice in wrapping paper as one of his favorite Pokemons) until the CD is all that remains. His eyes widen and he reads aloud the message written on the CD again in sharpie:

I'm sorry Kento. Merry Christmas.

Love was written and signed off with your name right underneath.

"Thank you. Really, I...this means a lot." Kento normally tripped over his words but you really left him speechless this time. Trading music was a religion between you two already, but this gesture of burning a CD for him was one you had never done for him before.

"You're welcome, Ken." You answer in a way you hope is cheerful.

Kento stands up, walking over to his CD player. There's a click and a mechanic whirr disturbing the quiet space as it roars to life. He loads it up then closes the tray, pressing play on Track #1, and turning bright red when the Peavey speaker absolutely blasts the song at full volume unexpectedly, making both of you jump 10 feet in the hair.

"FUCK! SHIT!! Oh, shit..." He mumbles as he cranks the volume control down. "Sorry...Jesus, fuck..."

You can't help but laugh, much more loose now the initial shock was over with and at Kento's adorable scared expression. "You shoulda seen your face just now!"

Kento shakes his head and teases back as he walks back to the bed to sit next to you. "Y-you looked just as ridiculous, y'know."

You giggle. "Sureeeee." You glance at the window. "Ya think your neighbors are gonna snitch on us for playing music too loud at 2 am?"

"Fuck if I know..." Kento sighs, laying his head back against the headboard as he takes his place next to you. "Let's just...listen to the music, alright?"

"Yessir, Kento, sir."

"Don't say that." Kento pokes you playfully with his elbow.

"Why not?" You prod back.

"Makes me sound like I'm old as shit or something..." Kento huffs, but he smiles at you all the same.

You both go back to listening, and he perks up in recognition.

"We the Kings. Alright, not a bad start, not bad at all." He smiles and closes his eyes. You look over at him, at your best friend with his relaxed expression.

The way those long bangs fell backwards over his forehead to showcase those enchanting eyes that could be so elusive, that Adam's apple that bobbed in his throat, the way his humble beauty never left his face no matter what state it was in. And, right now was your favorite, with his head thrown back and his body right next to yours listening to your favorite music in the world, hands dangerously close together on your respective laps.

You look straight ahead again as the song plays. Gradually, the curve of Kento's closed lip smile begins to slowly fade as he catches wind of the lyrics from the song currently playing: Rain Falls Down.

I hear your voice and what we talk about

And I'm trying to say what won't come out

Yeah, I'm trying to fix what's broken now

And I'm wishing that I could take your hand

And set you on some untouched land

Just so you are never sad again

And the world you've known will somehow end

There's a beating to your heart

That I just can't be apart

I can feel the rain fall down on us together

Just wait for the sunshine

Let's wait for the new day

When we can get away

It's me and you held close together

Hold on for the long ride

This won't be easy

Tonight

Hear my voice and know that I am here

I'm always there to wipe away your tears

I lay your hair behind your gentle ear

And tell you there is nothing more to fear

You are the reason I am the best I'll be

So let me stitch your heart so it won't bleed

And I won't rest until you finally breathe

'Cause I still love you more than anything

The song eventually ends and you can't deny there's more tension in the air than before you started. However, Kento wonders if maybe it was just coincidence. After all, what were songs nearly always about at least half the time? Love.

You're staring at your Nightmare Before Christmas socks, too nervous to even look at him, wondering if he's figured it out. But, you catch your breath when the next song starts playing and it doesn't seem to be the case just yet.

Kento wouldn't have guessed you'd put one of his favorite songs by Bright Eyes on the CD, either. Funny enough, this one happens to be one of several songs on that top secret playlist of his that he dreamed of dedicating to you one day. He's only astonished you managed to beat him to it. This time he's listening with you, it hits him like a rock.

And so I thought I'd let you know

Yeah, these things take forever, I especially am slow

But I realized that I need you

And I wondered if I could come home

Remember the time you drove all night

Just to meet me in the morning?

And I thought it was strange, you said everything changed

You felt as if you'd just woke up

And you said

"This is the first day of my life

I'm glad I didn't die before I met you

But now I don't care, I could go anywhere with you

And I'd probably be happy"

So if you wanna be with me

With these things there's no telling

We just have to wait and see

But I'd rather be working for a paycheck

Than waiting to win the lottery.

Besides, maybe this time is different

I mean, I really think you like me

The song ends and it's quiet for a moment before the next song starts.

"I wasn't expecting that..." Kento uttered quietly. You turned, and he was already looking at you. The third song, All My Heart by Sleeping Sirens begins to play in the background.

There's so many things that I could say

But I'm sure it would come out all wrong

You've got something that I can't explain

Still I'll try and try and let you know

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" You notice his voice is thick, emotion where you weren't expecting it as your own tears well up once again.

"I wanted to. Believe me, I wanted to, Ken. I literally tried to-'

"I mean before..." Kento clarifies, grateful the dim bedroom makes the heat in his face somewhat less visible. "A-all this time, I mean..." He sighs wearily, and makes a shaky inhale, his shoulders begging to be relieved of this burden that he's carried since exactly one week after he first met you in elementary school.

It's spanned years and ebbed and flowed, but it has never left him completely. It was more than just a crush. It may have started out that way, but to label something so special that's endured this long would be doing you the disservice of a century.

You meant so much more than that to him. He'd give you the entire world for the simple fact that in his eyes, you were forever worthy of it.

"We've known each other for ages..." Kento's voice hovers above a whisper and it lingers next to your ear. "I wish you told me."

That first summer we spent's one we'll never forget

Looking for any kind of reason to escape all the mess that

We thought was what made us

Ain't it funny now? We can see

We're who we're meant to be

His voice is much closer to you now, and you're still afraid to fully turn and look up at him directly for fear that you wouldn't be able to hold back once you did.

"What's the point?" Your tears slip past your waterline once again and create trails of hot salt on your cheeks. "You've already outgrown me, Ken. Tonight has been wonderful, but let's not pretend like you haven't been distant lately and a completely different person."

Kento's heart breaks and in defiance, he turns your chin to finally look up at him. He's alarmed to see all the tears running incessantly and he feels it wrench when he realizes he's the cause for them.

"But how?" He asks quietly as he turns his thumbs into tissues to wipe them away. He can't help the thought at the forefront of his mind as he does this: you're still unbelievably stunning this way. Emotions worn boldly on your sleeve: puffy eyes, snotty nose and all.

"I thought you were tired of me. I mean, Atsuya told me you were..."

There's too many times I have to say

I could have been better and stronger for you and me

You always make me feel okay

Those late summers we spent, stay up talking all night

I'd ask "you think we'd ever make it?"

You'd say "I'm sure if it's right"

Ain't it funny to think just how stupid I used to be

Hope you always believe

You still have all of my

You still have all of my heart

It clicks for him all at once and now he wants to kick himself in the shins.

"This is still about Christina and the formal, isn't it?"

You hiccup as you shudder a little bit more as the tears still don't relent. "E-ever since junior year started, Kento. It was just everything. I thought I was losing you with all this attention that you were getting. I thought I was being left behind. You've always been so smart. A-and those girls are all really pretty, smart, and funny..." You hang your head in shame and Kento's heart skips a beat, staring at you in disbelief.

How could you not see that you were pretty, and every bit as smart and funny?

"Even if you didn't feel the same, I didn't want to lose my best friend. But I didn't wanna hold you back either..."

Kento brings you into his chest as he lets you sob into it without saying anything else right away. How painfully obvious the answer was all this time and here he stood with his head proudly in the sand, partly with blind acceptance of all this unsolicited attention that fed his ego, not knowing he was doing it to distract himself from what he's known clearly all along: being utterly in love with you.

"You could never, ever lose me." Kento answers, cupping your face, bringing your gaze back to meet his. "You're not holding me back, either."

You want to look away with embarrassment with how snotty and disgusting you must look right now as you just sobbed and sobbed your eyes out in front of him but he's not deterred, not even in the least as he sooths you with his lulling voice.

"I never went to the dance. I swear on my life. I talked to Christina at the party tonight because I was jealous of you and Atsuya but that was a dick move of me. I'm not ever gonna be stupid enough to put myself in a position to lose you again. I'm not gonna hurt you like that ever again. I swear to you..."

Those tender pools like melted caramel of his travel down to where your lips part softly in surprise with every emotional confession he gives you. These were details he only ever dreamed about. Part of him wonders how he could even be this close to possibly finding out and crossing that line between fantasy and reality to where you'd no longer be just a daydream to him.

"And I don't want anyone else..." He whispers. "It's you I've wanted. It's always been you. It's always ever going to be you. They couldn't come close to you even if they tried." He holds your hands more earnestly as he continues with this fire that was lit underneath him that emboldened him with each sacred truth he unraveled.

"Can you forgive me? Can you forgive me for being the world's biggest dumbass? I'm so sorry, I'm sorry I-"

His train of thought is quickly evaporated under the object of your loving stare, and the dwindling space between your face and his. For a moment he forgets how to breathe, once again marveling at how pure you were, even in the afterglow of your tears.

Especially in the afterglow, when your cheeks shone with the gleam they left behind, leaving the windows to your soul exposed to his. You remind him how to breathe again when that soft swipe of your thumbs over the back of his hand anchors him to this moment with you right before the fall.

There's only one thing left to do and it's like you two move in sync as you lean towards one another and the song continues to blare in the background.

Let them talk and talk and talk

Let them say what they want

We will laugh at the thought they don't know what we've got

The first meeting of your lips began as the most dainty brush. Kento's not sure how hard or soft to kiss you, and so he plays it overly safe, making himself almost as stiff as cardboard as he freezes at the first contact, hands still a clammy mess as they cling to yours.

At first, you were a little thrown off by the reluctance, momentarily worrying if he didn't actually want to kiss after all. You try to reassure him by leaning a little bit closer, using one of your hands to hold the side of his neck.

To your relief, Kento melts in response as though your touch granted him permission. You stay locked like that for a while in your first kiss and a half, lips molded harshly against the other's.

Neither of you want to be the one who ends the kiss, so you hold it for as long as you possibly can until you realize you've been going without oxygen a moment too long and you hastily break apart, softly exhaling against his open mouth, leaving Kento blooming the deepest shade of red he's been all night.

"S-sorry that was kinda..." Kento clears his throat, the shade of red worsening with mortification at how sweaty his hands were. "You're... you're my first, so..."

You smile at him, determined to put him at ease which he felt immediately with tingles blooming in his ribcage as you leaned in and tenderly brushed noses with him.

"It was perfect."

And you meant it. For two awkward college kids who barely found themselves venturing into romantic territory after being friends for so long, that kiss couldn't have gone any other way for you two.

But, you don't want to end your exploration here just yet, and Kento doesn't either. These deserted hours past midnight, the romantic tunes, and the enticing way he looks right now encourages you more and more to press the gas pedal.

"Do you wanna do it again?" He asks and he beams when you say yes. He leans in again, a bit hurriedly but he catches himself as he learned from the last time to slow down a bit. He releases both of your hands and cups your face this time.

You allow him to take the lead, letting him drink his fill of your beautiful face. The flutter of your eyelashes over a pair of irises with a color that made him feel weightless, the arch of your brows, and the hypnotic parting of your lips. You stun him in the rawest way and make him melt where he sits.

Unknown to you, all of those times you did your hair and makeup and wore your best outfits before tonight don't hold a candle to the way you look to him right now. It's because this one was fully intended for him in the sanctity of this moment when you've been your most vulnerable with him, in all of your precious, pure and unfiltered honesty.

And you could not be more beautiful to him than that.

He expresses this by wordlessly bringing his mouth to yours once more, cautious then loving all at once as he allows them to engulf you completely.

Every year that goes by, a year older we are

You'll still be beautiful then, bless your beautiful heart

They'll talk and talk and talk

How crazy is it?

Someone could waste their whole life, helplessly

Just patiently waiting for a love like you and me

This second kiss carried sparks more potent than the first. You become amazed at how quickly he learned as he begins to slowly open his lips against yours, embarking in their first slow dance together as they daintily pucker and press, before they seamlessly pick up a rhythm. You glide your tongue along his bottom lip until he responds with his own, the feeling trickling hotly to your core like lava.

The slick and wet roll of your tongues that map and trail thoroughly inside your mouth and his leaves Kento particularly dizzy, softly panting intermittently between each reunion. The faint taste of sunscreen from his Blistex chapstick mixes well with your raspberry lip gloss. Each little moan he makes is laced with the baritone of his normal speaking voice, the masculinity of it and his growing weakness causes you to move with more urgency, kissing him more passionately.

Kento's not opposed to this invitation one bit and he adjusts his fervor to meet yours, sitting up and pulling you into his lap. This new position unlocks a new level of ferality in your brain. His size quickly gives himself away as you feel his bulge pulse in his skinny jeans where the thin barrier of your leggings allows you a sinful sneak peek. All bets are off now as the walls between you have completely crumbled.

"Kento..."

"Baby, please...holy fuck..."

You grind against him, pausing after every roll of your hips for the friction to linger, chasing that relief for your aching clit that could only be cured by humping his fat cock.

Kento feels his restraint loosen impossibly fast. It felt like he went from never driving to speeding on the interstate. It's a lot all at once, but holy fuck does it feel good.

He allows you to overpower him, laying backwards on the bed with his head on the pillows as he pulls you on top of him.

"I didn't go on that date with Atsuya..." You pant then squeal at the abrupt change in position. "I swear to God, Ken. I didn't, fuck, I couldn't..."

Kento feels himself lighting on fire from this knowledge, seizing your ass cheeks in his hands as he too chases that feeling, that pulsing of your pretty pussy over his cock that he just knew was soaking through the fabric.

"Haa-aah....y-you didn't?" He throws his head back with his jaw dropped open, letting a heady moan escape as you kiss and suck his neck with uncaged vigor, still focusing on thrusting his hips upwards against yours where they magnetize and shove against your clothed cunt with building greed.

"I-I didn't, baby I swear to God..." Wetness builds in the corners of your eyes as he positions you directly over his thigh instead, hands flying to help you tear off your hoodie as he encourages you to ride him.

You lean down and kiss him deeply again, your breasts squishing against him and threatening to spill from your cups as the motion of you riding his thigh causes one of the straps to spill over your shoulder.

"I don't know what I was thinking...just thought about you the whole time. Just wanted you, Ken...I couldn't do it... I promise, I'm so sorry-"

"Aa-aah, fuck...I-I believe you, sweetheart." Kento's eyes clench closed in ecstacy, his hands following the dizzying pattern of your hips as they bumped and churned on his thigh.

"Fuck me I...I..." He pants, a sheen coat of sweat beginning to dot his forehead. "I'm not gonna fuckin last like this, baby, God...."

You show him a little mercy, stalling your hips as you dipped your head down to passionately make out with him again, postponing the tension of the tight coil that was building low in your belly. You both hummed pleasantly as you enjoyed kissing one another deeply again. The softness of the act was a welcome distraction from Kento nearly cumming all at once in his pants, dual wet spots from you both in your underwear and his boxers bearing the proof.

"Can I...be inside you?" He aims his next kiss at your throat, his lips thrumming with the tender melody of your sigh at his question.

"Are you sure, baby?" You greedily roll your hips again and he groans loudly. Clearly, you didn't need much convincing.

"Yeah I'm sure." Your foreheads meet one another and his thumbs skim your cheeks. "I have protection too." He adds before nuzzling against you.

"As long as you're certain you want your first time to be with me..."

"I'm positive." He replies, the reminder from the subtle pressure of you spread out on top of him makes him fight to bite back the desperation in his tone.

"You're the only one I ever wanted to do this with." He confesses, his cheek twitching when a section of your hair tickles his face, fanning a subtle waft of your PINK perfume. He flushes again and massages up the soft sides of your waist as he speaks.

"Just...just bear with me if...if I don't know what I'm doing or just tell me what feels good and I'll do it."

You nod and smile with a wave of anticipation for what's coming, "Of course, Kento. You're completely safe with me. And I trust you too."

Tonight wasn't your first time. You had a few sexual encounters but none of them were anything worth writing home about. There was no question that tonight with Kento was already leaps and bounds better than anything you ever experienced before, and the feelings that ran deeply between you weaved it with an undercurrent that made it even more special than any connection you've made. His pureness, his consideration for you, his sweetness towards you made you want to do anything for him.

"Good, good."

"Well..."

Awkward silence.

"Should we take off our clothes?" He inquires awkwardly.

"Mm, well, we could always keep kissing while we do it. Makes things a little bit more fun if you want to try."

"Yeah, yeah let's try it."

You smile down at him, tucking the stray pieces of your hair out of the way as you resumed locking lips with him again.

Unexpectedly, Kento takes the reins. Before, the kisses were experimental, slow and tender to express your affection. Now, you kissed as though to express your mutual, stirring desire. Kento moved his lips and tongue as if he was trying to devour you, pushing against you as he sat back up and pulled you into his lap again.

You tug on his bottom lip with your teeth and he hisses and responds by grabbing your breasts. When he does, you release his lip and whine into his mouth. He smirks, pleased with this effect he was having on you, feeling more and more brave the longer he stays immersed in this steamy experience with you. His long fingers quickly move to your bra clasp.

"Okay?" He pants, cheeks still dusted with color. The evidence of his exertion from him putting in the work with you leaves you swooning quite a bit as you take in his pretty, blush tinged face.

You nod and the bra clasp comes undone with little resistance. The weight of your soft globes bounces in the most alluring way when they spill from the cups of cloth. Kento groans, completely mesmerized from the first glance, letting his eyes roam and soak you up, moving back to look up at you where you sit perched in his lap, the perfect position for him to worship.

"You're so beautiful..." He whispers. "So, so beautiful...." He brings your breasts together, loving the line that forms down the middle when he squishes them together, and the way your nipples peek between his fingers. It was awfully possessive, viewing them this way, reserved for his eyes and for his touch only.

He wishes to claim them even more and leans in without a second thought, licking your left tit into his mouth. You throw your head back at the same time his eyes his roll back in his skull, starting to ride the outline of his cock through his jeans as he sucks and laps up your breast to his heart's content.

He pulls back a bit, a saliva string that drips around the pointed end of your nipple and continues in a slick trail as he moves to the right. He surprises you and pins you underneath him, mouth still attached to your right tit. You purr at him as you play with his hair while he sucks in your tits, memorizing the way his blonde locks run like silk through your fingers, how your thighs look now that they're spread on either side of his lean waist.

You help him unzip his skinny jeans, peeling them down as he finishes his work on your breasts that now gleam shiny with his spit, bidding both farewell as he hollows his cheeks and sucks his lips abruptly, leaving both nipples in a pointed puckered state from his tongue.

He watches as you slip out of your leggings underneath him, reaching down to help you tug them off, entranced with the soft flesh that dimples and only adds to the supple, divine figure you possess that he's touched himself at night to countless times. You're completely bare to him now besides your panties, kissed in the moonlight with your hair behind you like a halo.

"You're so perfect..." He praises you again, the shadows lining his face that was surely burning under the warmth of your ethereal gaze.

"I don't understand how I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one." You reassure him as your lovely mouth curls into his favorite smile, gazing in his eyes as you go to rub his cock through his boxers. However, your pupils expand in shock when you're met with a heavy package that doesn't even fit in your hand.

Kento blushed as he noticed your reaction to his size, standing off to the side of the bed and stripping down, sliding his boxers hastily down his long legs. His cock is a slight beige that's sweaty, long, and pink at the tip, and it flops out in front of you all of its manly glory.

You feel equal parts aroused and scared. There is absolutely no shortage of size anywhere on his intimate area. Your pupils expand again as you observe how the circumference is almost proportional to its length, to his large set of balls.

His pubes are neatly trimmed, but there's certainly a generous amount that makes up the forest of dark hair, different from the color on his head that bushes around his thick base. It dances up his belly button in a pattern that makes your brain go fuzzy and your clit throb for attention.

Even if he looks like he could split you in half, you can't help how absolutely heavenly he looks in this moment, looking down at you with shyness and anticipation, like he's equally excited for what's about to happen, and that he hopes you like what you see.

"You're absolutely perfect, Kento..." You whisper. Your fingertips find his in the dark, eyes still locked on each other as he entertwines with yours.

"Every inch of you."

"No way, you're the perfect one..." He takes your hands in both his palms, bringing them to his mouth to plant a set of tender kisses on both sets of knuckles before he turns to his dresser to retrieve one of the condoms that he's had forever but never used, elated that it's with you.

"No way." You shake your head and he blows air through his lips. Before he can slide the condom on, you stop him, "Wait..."

Kento's eyes go wide as he watches you crawl seductively towards him, breasts bouncing, beautiful, and bare across his bed and eye level with his staggering length.

"Let me make you feel good. Please?"

Kento's always wanted a blow job. Truth was, he was hoping that he could possibly get his first tonight with you, but he'd never, ever ask in a million years. He felt like that was way too forward, and the last thing he'd want is to make you uncomfortable or make himself look like a selfish guy. He can't help but feel impossibly turned on in this moment, turning to you with a lustful expression.

"R-really?"

"I'd love to." You purr, aiming your gaze innocently through your eyelashes as you softly kiss his bulging tip. "Let me pleasure you, Kento..."

He tilts his head as he looks down on you, fingers cradling the corner of your jaw as you stick out your tongue, swirling it around the pink tip. Kento shudders immediately and you relish his sensitivity to just the careful licks of your tongue, imagining just how responsive he must be when you're taking the full thing in your mouth, or your pussy.

Your tongue laps slowly around the tip, and then the underside of his shaft, goading him slowly until you wrap your mouth around as much of him as he can, until you slowly begin to bob your head.

"Fffuck...." Kento almost loses his footing at where he's standing next to the bed, hands immediately anchoring themselves in your hair as he can't help but chase that fuzzy feeling you're giving him all over, beginning to rhythmically move his hips into each motion of your pretty lips down the veiny length of his cock.

"That-haaah, please, please keep going..."

You smile and coo to let him know you have absolutely no plans of stopping anytime soon.

He's so soft. His taste is nothing unpleasant or particularly delicious, but oddly rousing in his own way. His faint musk from his bush and salt from his skin makes you want to seek more of him so you can taste him properly, until he's dripping down your throat, or between your legs, you're not picky at all by this point. And feeling him throb in your mouth with every soft purr and moan you give him to let him know how good he feels is so fucking sweet.

"Shit...shit..." Kento pulls out of your warmth unexpectedly, panting and wincing as he feels his balls draw tight, aching by this point as he inadvertently edged himself.

"I'm sorry, aaah..." He grunts and takes a deep breath.

"Are you okay, Ken?" You ask, slightly alarmed as you scoot over and allow him to sit down.

"I'm...I'm perfect." He puffs. "Just...just thought I was gonna cum back there, and I didn't want to. Not yet." He blushes. "I'm really sorry about that. I really really liked it."

"No, don't be sorry." You lean your head on his shoulder, the tunes from the CD were still playing. You two take a breather, pausing to listen to some Margot and the Nuclear So and Sos.

"It-hah...it felt really fucking good, just to let you know." Kento interrupts, one of his hands coming to trace over your spine.

"Haha, I'm so glad." You whisper, moving your lips to kiss his cheek, giving his ear a little lick.

Kento exhales tiredly and you smile as you see him twitch and start to go fully erect again. So adorable.

"Are you sleepy?" You ask, beginning to leave more kisses on his cheeks, then jaw which he's started to clench.

"N-No..." Kento sighs as he closes his eyes. "No way. I'm not ever tired for you." He lays you back on the pillows before rolling the condom on his cock. Then, he returns to kissing down your neck and chest until he gingerly lays his chin on your sternum, just below your breasts.

"I'll just go slow? And tell me if it hurts?"

You nod, doing your best to not tense up when you remember his size you have to contend with. But still, you craved him inside of you more than anything. If there was any cause worthy of getting your insides rearranged for, it would be by Kento, every single time.

"Just...uhm, look at me?" Kento orders sheepishly.

You smile, endeared that he's so eager to try and sit in the driver's seat for once.

"Okay." You look up at him, tenderness lining your pupils and the corners of your eyes soften as you look at Kento on top of you.

Kento smiles back down at you, balancing above you on his forearms, flexing a little bit in adorable display, all for you. You giggle, running your hands up and down his biceps which were surprisingly solid.

He always hid his figure underneath his baggy shorts and hoodies, and you can't help but feel so lucky again that he was being so vulnerable with you like this, electricity running in a steady thrum underneath your skin when you feel him start to ease his weight on top of you.

"You're so beautiful..." He murmurs the phrase like it's the only one he knows. Like he wasn't ever meant to speak unless the words were spent acknowledging the true depths of your beauty, lest it go completely wasted.

He kisses you softly again, daintily licking his tongue into your mouth, pumping his cock up and down. While doing so you feel him gently spread you open with one of his knees. He cradles your head, still keeping himself connected to your lips as he teases his cock in circles near your clit.

Kento didn't have experience, but he did watch plenty of porn. He has a pretty good idea of what he needs to do to make sure you're well warmed up. And ultimately for you, and he'd spend into next morning figuring it out if he needs to.

He takes note when he feels you break away from the kiss to pant and press your head back a little further into his pillow, a sign that he's rubbing and stimulating you right where he needs to. He breathes softly, sweet breath tickling your face as his eyes gently flicker and roam over you, every sip of you he drinks threatening to be the drop too many that leaves him intoxicated.

He uses the round squishy tip of his cock to press and rub your pussy, drawing circles and very barely dipping into your dripping entrance that was starting to build and leak a steady pool of juices. He lays his cock flat against your clit, watching his meaty shaft be hugged by both wet folds as it slides up, and down, the ribbed edges of the condom are even more pronounced with Kento's veins to give your puffy clit all the euphoric friction you need.

"Kento..." You mewl out again, and he uses his kiss to swallow your cry before you can get too loud as he moves to guide himself inside you.

Pure warmth with the wettest silk is all he knows as he slowly enters you for the first time. He's being absolutely gripped by you on all sides like an intoxicating vice, feeling you hug and squeeze and pulse with life around him.

"Baby...holy...fuck..." Kento breathes out, sucking in air through his teeth. He's practically delirious from this foreign feeling, fighting with every ounce of strength he has to continue going slow and not give into that primal itch that's aching to be scratched to fuck you senseless into the bed springs.

He thought the blowjob was heaven, however being inside of you was the hidden pot of honey where he realized he needed to be all this time.

You feel his veins, his curve, the consistent way he throbs in response to every time you clench around him. The shaky and breathless effect you're having on him and hearing his gorgeous voice, soft and gentle in your ear is summoning and releasing butterflies in your belly that you never knew existed. However, you'd be lying if you said his size wasn't pushing you to your absolute limits. You're reminded on all fronts that you're full of him every time you move with every inch he feeds you, now about halfway inside. He is the most endowed man you've had sex with by far, and you whine softly from the stretch.

When he hears your whimpers, he pulls out immediately and sits back on his knees, relieving you with his tongue. His flat, warm muscle laps up the nectar oozing underneath your clit and swirls in figure eights in every sensitive spot he can reach. He's hooked on the taste he left from being joined to you temporarily and presses his face into your dripping warmth, soaking his chin.

You arch your back, toes curled, and he utterly groans, locking an arm around each thigh as he slowly drags his nose back and forth, bumping your clit in the process.

----

Time has now slipped away, completely swallowed up by the wintry night and in every single secret, intimate, steamy, filthy, tender thing that's unraveled tonight in Kento's bed.

By some miracle he's held on like a champion until you both are drenched in sweat, although it becomes clear he's at his limit, the condom practically sliding off with the surplus of sweat and precum you conjured up from him. You both heave with exhaust that's made it's way to the fogged windowsill in the confined space and all the time that's been whittled away in this passionate encounter.

He's licked your warm cunt until an ocean is practically pouring out of you, he's sucked both your nipples into his mouth again to the point that they're most certainly branded with love marks and not just his spit. He's wiggled and curled those long fingers of his inside your silky pussy until you snapped like a rubber band at least twice.

Now, he hovers above you again after putting on a fresh condom, harder than a rock and searing with ache. He kisses you and grunts when he feels you deepen it immediately, apparently eager to taste your nectar after it's been inside his mouth. Now, his cock glides into you, warm and snug, filling every inch perfectly like you two were separately divinely crafted to fit each other.

"So good, Kento..." You reward him with that mellifluous way you rasp out his name, and he cradles your head in his hands as though you could break.

And all you can do as you stare at one another, bodies fully engulfed as he gently rocks his hips, is hold each other close and walk that up that staircase to heaven together, years and years of knowing one another already behind you as the seamless foundation you can use as a bridge.

Kento imagines this is as close to what married people must feel like on their honeymoon. As far as he's concerned in this moment, your pussy is the only pussy he'd like to fuck for the rest of his life.

What would wasting even a precious second on someone else do for him? There's no need. The connection that burns between you right now has long exceeded anything physical, leaving carnality and greed long in the dust and burning in the surplus of time between you that you had already spent.

Now, it's something profoundly emotional that all words fall short of conveying, but only in the gentle push and sway of your bodies moving and rippling like wild tides out at sea as one. It's especially meaningful as he hands over every bit of himself to you. The piece and part of his soul that was untouched, now forever claimed by you, and you only, none else.

"I love you." He whispers and kisses you again, those eyes of sweetest honey amber.

"I love you so much..." He begins to move a little faster against you, his declaration leaving his body with searing passion in its wake. "I always have."

"I love you, Kento...with all my heart." You gasp and feel your jaw slacken, the coil in your lower belly tightening with impossible tension with each deafening thrust. He whines a little louder as his cock slips and squelches with silky obscenity.

"Fuck I...I have to...I'm sorry." He mumbles and kisses you hard, as he holds up your legs and folds them to your chest as he begins to thrust into you lewdly in mating press.

"Kento!"

You cry out his name and he swallows it again, taking care that whatever beautiful sound he can wring out of you stays in this heated space you built together, all for his eyes and ears only. His cock fills, stretches, and impossibly stokes at those leftover embers from all the previous fires he ignited inside you tonight.

Now, you both move and grind with freedom, with sweetest absolution from straying past those lines of friendship you both ached and longed to shatter, set free from your cage with the tender profession of your mutual love.

Your skin smacks and sticks, drenched and salty from resistance built from perspiration and arousal. The heat is almost uncomfortable, but it's all forgotten when you look at him and he gazes down at you with those eyes you have seared into your memory. Your pleasure and love is the very forefront of your brain that guides you down this road, a path you're not afraid of so long as he's the one next to you.

"Gonna cum, I'm gonna....FUCK!"

He yanks you into his mouth again, this time using your kiss as an echo chamber to stifle his sounds as he unloads himself. He shudders as the tension rolls off of him and settles into you like cascading dominoes.

He whimpers quietly, still locked inside your kiss as he jerks sharply a few times for good measure despite the barrier of the condom catching all his cum, bringing his thumb back to your clit as he does so as though to demonstrate what he'd do exactly if the barrier were not in place.

You fall off not long after, with a shiver and tremble that dies in a broken cry against his lips.

"That was...."

"Perfect."

He releases all his weight onto you but it doesn't phase you one bit, his pressure and embrace a welcome respite as you weakly glide down from your peaks. After a moment when he collects his breath, he rolls onto his back next to you, keeping his fingers tangled with yours.

"Y-yeah. To be honest I dunno if perfect comes close.." Kento closes his eyes as he feels sleep begin to rouse in his eyelids with the clearing haze.

"More than perfect.....What's a word for that?" You smile, sleep beginning to tinge the sound of your voice as well.

He lets out a huff, then chuckles. "I dunno, babe. You did kind of just reset my brain back there..."

"We'll go with more than perfect, then. How about heaven?"

He nods and exhales, but the smile that curves at his lips is undeniable in his tone. "That sounds about right to me." He turns to you. "You okay?"

"I'm okay, I just." You look out at the window, briefly surveying the sights available to you in the present moment: the flurry of snowflakes in the window, the dip of the mattress where he lays next to you, the shadow of his eyes, the glow that raptures both of your skin.

"Things aren't ever gonna be the same with us, are they?"

"No, I guess not." He scoots closer to you, noses inches away. "But I'm okay with it. Are you?"

"I'm more than okay." You whisper with sincerity. "As long as I have you."

He smiles at your words, not getting over this welcome feeling of being needed by someone, especially you. "Course you do. I'm not letting you go after this."

"I love you so much. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas. I love you more."

And the sleep that befell you afterwards could not be more peaceful, wrapped up in the conclusion of your lovemaking and the blissful beginning of a new chapter between you.

You shared sleepy laughs and infinite cuddles the next morning, huddled for warmth and tucked into one of his shirts as you talked over a morning cup of coffee before playing Mario again. You received an awkward note on his door with a noise complaint afterwards, which you giggled and hid your face in your hands, Kento's face a bright red.

Needless to say, you got pretty creative over winter break with finding places to meet and burn off steam, from his place to yours, to the little motel on the edge of town, to the backseat of your shitty pickup truck with fogged windows in the snow.

But one thing you could count on was each other. Love in the purest form of brown eyes waiting for you outside your class door, fingers coming to find their home in the spaces between yours as you walked hand in hand together.

His clear commitment to you made all the outside attention cease when it was obvious he was happy in love with you, his best friend, solidified permanently in that playlist that never did leave his CD player since that night.

It never made you wonder or second guess yourself again. You belonged together, it was as inevitable as the snowflakes that landed in his hair to the crinkle in your nose as he pulls you into his arms and kisses you again.

#jelly's 12 days of smutmas ✼ ｡ﾟ･ྀི𓈒 ݁⋆#from my trees . ˚ 𖧷 ·𓇥 ° . ♡#nanami kento x reader #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #smutmas #x female reader #x fem!reader #Spotify #dividers by saradika

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