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luveline · 11 months

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hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure

hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k

cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain

Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds.

There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal.

You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower.

"Not this time, Pete."

"Too bad," he laments.

You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious.

"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut.

"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?"

"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders."

"You want me to wash your hair."

"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg."

You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?"

"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money."

"Anything else?"

He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are.

He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?"

"You told me to stay, so I'm staying."

He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?"

"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?"

"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing."

Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.

It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink."

"Wait–"

He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it."

"I'm just feeling icky," you confide.

"About what?"

You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?"

He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, a little."

He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips.

"It doesn't suit me–"

"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better."

"Even when I was thinner?"

"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor."

"No, but you have to say that."

"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious."

You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin.

"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight."

"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle."

"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."

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piratinh0 · 2 years

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#よよよ #look at him #high-pressure washing machine

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wynnyfryd · 10 months

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Trailer park Steve AU part 25

part 1 | part 24 | ao3

cw: throwing up, recreational alcohol & drug use

“Well, thank fuck I didn’t wear the Reeboks,” Eddie laughs.

Steve groans 'Jesus,' because he doesn't know what else there is to say to that. Eddie came out of nowhere. Materialized like some kind of freaky wizard. And that would— that would be on brand, wouldn’t it?

Eddie the magician. Eddie the shapeshifter.

Maybe Eddie is Misty? Would explain why she left him all those dead rats when he first—

“Oh, fuck.” His stomach rolls at the thought, a hot-cold-nasty-sick shiver down his spine, and he bends forward to retch again. Hits the grass this time at least, right between Eddie’s boots; groans and spits drool into the dirt. Eddie smooths a hand between his shoulder blades, which is nice, even if everything else about this totally blows.

“Godddd,” he moans when the dry heaving stops. He lifts his head to apologize and nearly tips himself into the mess he just made.

“Whoa, whoa whoa, hey; easy,” Eddie shushes, steadying him with both hands. Warm palms against his biceps; firm grip.

“S’nice.”

“Yeah?” Eddie grins, private and soft. "Alright, arms up."

"Mmh?"

"Up! Come on, sweetheart, up you get." He loops Steve’s arms around his neck, wearing him like a cape. Steve giggles into his fluffy curls, nuzzles his nose into them because they're warm and Eddie smells nice, and time does that weird drunk thing where Steve slow blinks and suddenly they're a hundred yards away.

Edge of the creek, downstream from the falls where the water’s just a thin squiggle cut through smooth, mossy stone. Eddie's got Steve facedown across his lap, gathering up his hair and making a headband with his hands, and he's apologizing in advance for Steve-doesn't-know-what.

"Big breath," Eddie warns him, and then he dips Steve's face in the icy stream like he's battering fried chicken in a goddamn egg wash. Two quick dunks, the cold ripping through Steve's nerves; it's all finger-licking fucked.

"What the hell?!" Steve splutters when Eddie lifts him up, rolls him onto his back and smiles down at him.

"Mornin', sunshine!"

"Jesus Christ!"

Eddie's laughing at him hard. "Sorry, big boy. Had to wake you up somehow."

He brushes Steve's bangs off his face, and Steve pants up at him, wide awake now. Trembling. In the dark, Eddie's eyes look nearly black. Two inkpots full of moonlight.

“'M awake," Steve mumbles to distract himself from the sudden kick-throb behind his ribs. "Sorry I barfed on your shoes."

“Ah, comes with the territory.” Eddie kicks his legs out, rinsing the toes of his boots off in the stream. “Drug dealer, remember? Seen a lot worse than this at parties, sweetheart, I can promise you that."

Steve blinks at him. Still feels syrupy and slow like he's wading through mud. Sweetheart. The word's a fog machine in his mind. Hazy warmth; candy clouds. "If... If you're a drug dealer, then... should've woken me up with drugs."

"Oh?"

"Mhmm. Jus' rude not to, really."

Eddie's lips quirk. His eyes are soft, his fingers combing through Steve's hair, and Steve's head is still in his lap, even though it probably shouldn't be. "If you want coke..." he murmurs, his voice a low, fond rumble, "you can just ask for it."

"Yeah?"

"Sure, Stevie."

Steve watches with rapt attention as Eddie reaches into his jacket, pulls out a little baggie and holds it up in question. Steve gulps; nods.

Fuck yeah. He hasn't had coke in forever.

Eddie pours the smallest amount onto the back of one hand, licks the thumb of his other and presses it into the pile, coating it in white powder. He brings it up to Steve's mouth and rests it right against his lip — barest hint of pressure; not hovering, not pushing in. "Well, go on," he smirks.

Steve makes a questioning sound that comes out like a whine, a high, nasal thing in the back of his throat. His cock stirs in his jeans.

"Ask me," Eddie whispers.

"Can I have it?" Steve asks. He can feel Eddie's thumb against his lips as he speaks; has to stop himself from flicking out his tongue to get a taste. "Please?"

"Fuck," Eddie hisses between his teeth. "Yeah, baby." He presses into the meat of Steve's bottom lip; drags it down, exposes skin that's wet and warm. Dances over it with the pad of his thumb — the inside of Steve's lip, his gums, his tongue.

There's no mistaking the sound Steve makes for anything but a moan, throaty and deep as he sucks Eddie's thumb deeper into his mouth; hollows his cheeks, makes Eddie gasp. Makes him twitch his hips up under Steve, and it's good, and Steve feels like there are live wires where his veins used to be, the rush of the coke and Eddie's hands and Eddie's noises in his good ear, and—

"Hey!" someone shouts across the field. Eddie moves like he's been shot at, flinching away from Steve entirely, a hand pressed over his lap as he turns to see who's coming.

Steve lifts his head to look. His mouth is buzzing, lips full and flushed like he's been kissing someone. Kissing Eddie. God, he wants to. Wants to hike him up the falls, shove him hard against a tree.

But he can't. Because Jason Carver's here now.

Great.

—

part 26

gonna do the tag lists in separate reblogs from now on (with the tag "#trailer park steve au taglist" if you'd like to filter that content), comment and let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my writing #my fic #cw: alcohol #cw: drugs

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goteique · 2 months

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| HIGH IN LOW PLACES + shishiba, gaku , uzuki, shin.

+cw. — f!reader, explicit smut content, { s&d dynamics + s&m themes ,fellatio, forced orgasm + f!ngering ( shishiba ) , dry humping + thigh riding ( gaku ), hj + marking, ( uzuki ), kissing, m!oral + f!oral( shin ) }, headcanon + scenarios format canon typical themes and elements.

+wc. — 4k

+syn.— how do they generally spend their off day? Is it any different when you're with them?

+notes. — PART ONE. | redirect to blog navigation.

✦ shishiba.

The last time you saw Shishiba was months ago. When you are free from work, he is busy. When you are at work, he is busy. He is rarely free not that you misunderstand but it sure takes a toll on you, especially when you check in with Osaragi where he is she simply says she does not know which sounds more like “you don’t need to know.” Odd, right?

However, today he is here visiting you at your house. He is sitting on the small sofa as you do the chores. The curtains are reaching out for the room. Shishiba’s eyes are glued on you as you move from one place to another doing chores. He has not spoken a word since he arrived and the silence is creeping you out. The summer heat is unbearable and on top of that, you are sweating buckets because of his scrutinizing gaze. Why isn't he saying anything? Have you done something wrong?

Has Shishiba done something to offend you? He is here as he promised. For someone who lives a normal life and who is going to live a normal life as far as he is aware he is scared of you. He is scared because you make him restless. He can not ever fathom what goes on in your head. He can not read you like he can with others. So, you make him restless yet he waits for you: to blink back when he blinks; to nod back when he nods but today is rather peculiar from your perspective. He thinks you are angry. He feels you are upset. Is he compromised? Have you become a thing to be used against him when all he can give you is background presence in your life?

“Didn’t you miss me?” He finally asks. You halt in your steps, unable to look at him. The clothes in your hands are wrinkled under the tension of your palms.

“I did.” You start to put the clothes in the washing machine as you hear his voice again. It is in a lower tone than before.

“why not do anything about it?” You pause whatever you are doing and grace him with a glance. He is staring at you so intensely that it almost feels like he is starting into your naked body. Keeping up the eye contact he stretches his legs apart, letting his hands run on his trousers watching your eyes follow the movements as Shishiba taps on his thighs. Now, that's something new for the dull monotonous tune in your life. You could match this new rhythm that he is trying to invoke within you. You quietly follow him keeping up the fierce eye contact.

As you sit on his lap, curling one of your arms around his back Shishiba's hand swings towards your face. He squeezes your cheeks giving more pressure than is required forcing your mouth open. It hurts. It feels good too. He pushes his index finger into your mouth, watches you suck his finger, and then waits before he pushes another one. His other arm is by your belly which is holding you on one of his thighs is pressing onto your flesh. You feel him. You feel his touch: by the time he leaves in the morning while you will be waking up empty, he will not be a fever dream. He will leave marks on your body, little shreds of evidence all over your house. He is here with you, for you. How can you forget that?

“Let's see how much you missed me,” His voice rasps against your skin as he pushes his fingers inside your pussy slipping through your short pants. Why are you even wearing pants when he is visiting you? Your hand that is resting on his shoulders grips his dress suit tightly, a shocked gasp escaping from your chest. Maybe he got a little carried away but as your facial muscles start to relax his fingers start to move: in and out. The single sofa has limited the way you spread your legs so you move closer to his body gripping the collar of his white shirt with your other hand that was resting on the handrest of the sofa a while ago. “Looks like you missed me as much as me.” Shishiba huffs out. Oh god. he sure is chatty when not needed.

Actually, Shishiba only talks to throw off someone from their game but he can not do that to you. Even if he does, it backfires on him somehow. He does not want to be compromised any more than he already is. He is an assassin after all. He can not get under your skin. The territory of intimacy is limited just to skin and sex, not love and lust. His thick dextrous fingers have started to get impatient making your grip on his clothes tighter. Your chest has started to bottle the moans and mewls as your breathing gets uneven and erratic. You would love to kiss him now. You know you want it. He knows you want it to. why? because there is just a thread of gap between his mouth and yours. You are practically breathing into his mouth.

Shisiba feels your pussy walls clenching around his fingers as you arch your head back letting out a loud moan. It is a shame that Shishiba was not able to see how you looked as you moaned his name. He has rarely seen that face. Your 'cum-face'. You always seem to hide it behind the clouds of orgasmic high. Either you bury your face in the nook of his neck, or he has to fuck you in doggy style or prone bone. You never let him truly see you and forcing you has always backfired on him.

You the tip up your head wrapping his tie around your palm to pull him closer to your face and put your lips onto his, the tension at the bottom of your stomach getting stronger, and stronger and stronger. The moment you were about to peak he pushed you away breaking the kiss

There is nothing but a daze in your eyes, wetness over his trouser pants, and a superior sensation painted over his face. He saw you.

✦ gaku.

You are being unusually needy today. He has visited your place a couple of times yet the way you act makes Gaku wonder if someone is hiding in your house or not. Indeed, he informed you about his arrival and it took at least fifteen minutes for him to get to your house which is enough for you to let someone hide or someone could easily threaten you to that point. A welcome hug as well as a kiss, that is indeed the first time you have greeted him so well.

“Why is that door locked?” Gaku points at the brown door of your bedroom.

“It's 'cause the A.C. is on you moron,” you say bonking his head lightly with the food packet you had in your grip. He watches you. You tilt your head and touch his forehead softly saying his name, “Gaku . . .” No! He does not have a fever but he is acting so indifferent today.

But so are you. You are . . . worried which is new for him. It has always been his job to worry, to worry about your safety. He knows your melting point much better than you do. He knows where to touch and when to taste you.

“Gaku, what are you doing?" Your words escaped from your lips as he grazed his nose against your neck while his hands rested along your thighs with an inch of space.

“What do you think?” his lips barely touch your skin as he retreats slowly from your body, leaving you surprised at his way with you today. But his hands are intact, fingers clamped at the edge of the kitchen counter as his eyes dart all over your confused face. “I saw you, on the other day,” he inches forward his nose nudging yours making you pull away, “So, I couldn't help it. I came to see you.” You try to contain your astonishment but judging from his slight curve at the corner of his lips, you let out a low gasp at his spite. You were so familiar with his ways. His Adam's apple moved as he noticed your parted lips and in an instant, his sturdy hands pulled you closer to his chest making you sharply gasp, your arms resting on his shoulders.

The eye contact lasted mere a few seconds before he started to place violent wet kisses along your nape. You try to give him the space, the food he so hungrily searches but it is not enough. “Gaku” you gasp feeling his fingers against your pussy lips. You hear him smile agsint your lips. He is pleased because you are not wearing any pants. Aren’t you a sweet little thing? Always so prepared and ready for him. Indeed, he does not have to coax you for sex and intimacy but he feels a little bit of pity for you; the way you seek him even when he is here with you.

It seems that he has missed you so much that he is impatient and desperate. That’s why the indifference. That’s why the question . . . he keeps rubbing your clit, occasionally pinching it making you squeal against his neck while working his lips around your neck, collar bones. His other hand travels under your top grabbing one of your boobs at first and then pinching your nipple. You return the favor by biting on his skin. The push and pull of pressing each other’s pressure points, finding each other’s melting point goes on until Gaku starts to feel a strain in his pants. He breaks the kiss leaving you gasping. He looks around and finds a stool set against the cabinet. He carries you in his arms but of course still focused on your lips, working his tongue into your mouth. He makes you sit on his thigh. Thank God, he came here wearing boxers and a t-shirt.

You have already started to move back and fro. At this point, he is not even guiding you. You are moving your hips on your own. His hand is around your waist, it is just there so that you do not lose your balance.

“There.There.” He coos. “You’re almost there.” It is so frustrating sometimes how well he knows you, how used to he is with your body. You do not bother if Kumanomi is the reason behind this confidence. You just wanna feel good, chase this euphoric high till you grasp it. His hands roam under your clothing squeezing here and there, pinching your nipples as you quicken the pace to the peak. It is kind of exhilarating to watch someone, someone he likes, desperately chase orgasm and cum so hard.

Gaku gives you the time to calm down, reach the ground state, and get back your natural pattern of breathing. The way your sweaty chest heaves turns him on all the more. The top you are wearing has started to stick to your skin here and there.

“My turn.” Gaku pulls your other leg into his lap, making you sit properly on his lap this time. He eyes you to undo his pants. Getting the cue, as soon as you work your hands to unzip his pants he groans loudly. The strain in his pants hurts a little less. He is sure you will help him to relieve the pain.

✦ kei uzuki.

Uzuki did not mean this to happen when he decided to grace you with a visit. It was supposed to be his off day. He was just wandering in your neighborhood and now he is in your drawing room fighting for his dear life as you jerk him off. Had you not chosen to turn on the dim light of your drawing room he would have drowned in shame, because he doubts he would be able to look at you or maintain proper eye contact during normal conversation after you have seen him like this: vulnerable and desperate like a hungry lion pup.

His navel rises and falls at an irregular pace yet so quickly that Kei fails to sneak a glance at you in between his ragged intake of breaths. At this point, how he is panting for air does not make it at par with his body’s necessities. At this point, even if he were to open his eyes he would see you all blurred. But Kei still desires to take a glimpse of you as your calloused fingers are wrapped and busy working on his throbbing cock.

With each passing moment, he tends to feel his hands lesser and lesser . . . which are resting at the edge of the cabinet; they are starting to feel numb; his fingertips hurt from gripping the wooden surface so hard; maybe by the time he cums, his nail marks will be the only evidence that he was here.

He partly opens his eyes only to focus on your luscious lips which seem confident, it would be delightful to taste a little, wouldn’t it? Though his vision is all hazy Kei glances at his member finding the tip glistening in pre-cum, at least he thinks so, he feels so.

“You’re close, Kei. . can you feel it?” and he is forced to shut his eyes out, cease his breathing at the tickle of your voice through his ears embarrassment gushing in his veins. He could practically feel his ears burn, so hot that it hurt, it itches. His right hand flies around your nape earning him a bonus point, and a soft squeal from you. He is brave enough to think you moaned under his touch but not brave enough to open his eyes and cherish the look on your face rather he is thinking. . . thinking how he loves the feeling of his long sturdy fingers perfectly fitting in between your painted ones while he is balls deep inside you hitting your sweet spot with slow strong thrusts, just like you want; the kind that makes you see stars. He needs to interlace his fingers with yours every time he is inside you. He thinks it makes him cum more by doing so, well, quantitatively.

But when you wrap those pretty fingers around his cock he could almost feel a quick trip of heaven and back. Visions clouding, his grip around your nape growing stronger with each thrust of your hand, his lips being punished by his fierce teeth, those very teeth that have marked you in the most intimate parts— in between your thighs, inner side of the wrist, on your nipples and sometimes on your waistline. Kei tries to pull you a little closer so that he can bury his face in the nook of your neck thinking of leaving bruises on your neckline than on his lips. You just stop the pace so suddenly that he gasps loudly, pulling you closer as a course of reaction.

You chuckle as he watches you closely, through the strands of his hair. His lips latch onto your neckline sucking fiercely as if he were to suck the life out of you, followed by squelching noises and his rough, unrefined moans. ‘Fuck, he is—he is gonna leave marks...’, you tense up and start to pump his cock again.

This time with slow and full yet strong thrusts. You feel his teeth graze lightly, almost a feather touch. “Kei, don’t leave marks.”, you remind him; your voice soft enough that he pulls away making you regret your words instantly.

“do-don't worry. I won't.”, his hot breath hitting your ear-lobe, sending shivers down your spine. Kei won't since he wants to feel his euphoric high a little longer; He feels his orgasm approaching, his inner thighs quivering, and he bucks his hips up. He could feel the rope of self-control tugging, going tight, and waiting for it to snap rather than sever it by himself. The urge to kiss your lips seemed to overpower the prior, so much so that it might just snap yet he did not want to leave the sight of your pretty hand, refined and polished fingers nails thinking maybe, someday, just maybe he would see a diamond sparkling on your ring finger bearing his name as you give him a slice of heaven, just like how you're doing it now.

✦ shin asakura.

There is never an off day for someone who works at a convenience store but it sure a little less busy during afternoons like these. Sakamoto is probably playing with Hana as Aoi tells him about the customers she attained during her shift. Lu is taking a nap. Thanks to the rotation of shifts Shin gets to laze around a little during his afternoon shifts. He never forgets to let you know beforehand This is how it has always been. The peace of this humid afternoon during summer is surely draining, not to mention mind-wrecking at times when you fail to show up on certain days. Shin understands that; he understands how busy life can be but still can not help but miss you. The rotating table fan is creaking, the fan blades are making noise as it exhausts itself to its sole purpose yet can not be at par with the heat in the air. It is not just summer that is making Shin sweat buckets. You are a contributing stimulant too. Besides, he can endure the sweat as well as heat if you keep working on his cock like that, lips wrapping around his member as you sit under the desk of the cash counter while he sits on the chair, legs spread wide apart from each other.

You pleasuring him like this on afternoons has become a bad habit of his even though it is occasional. He wants to return the favor sometimes too but you do not let him do that. Why? because he often imagines eating you out by making you sit on the cash counter. He thinks about it way too much to let it slide as a wet dream or even as a ridiculous whim of a loverboy. But now his mind is filled with the sole thought of you sucking his cock. You are just so good at this. He is a little bit jealous of how pleasurable you make him feel, which makes him wonder about how you are so good at this.

“Hurry up,” Shin pants as you lick and kiss his tip occasionally sucking the flushed leaky tip.

“Someone might come.”

No one will come, at least not any customer. No one ever visits during this time not as long as you are blowing him, not until you walk out of the shop because when you enter the shop you flip the sign board. No! Shin does not need to know this. If he does, he will definitely stop texting you, will not ask you anymore to meet him, and will say things like, “No. no. I'm busy babe.” or “Today? today the store is packed.” So, you do as he asks.

Watching you swallow up to the base of his cock into your mouth he is forced to close his eyes. He will have wet dreams if he keeps watching you like that. Your head moves up and down, to the base from the tip in a slow motion. His tummy starts to twitch, breathing becomes uneven you quicken your pace. You start to suck hard and faster making him tip his head backward, hands clamping on the edge of his seat clenching harder as he comes undone followed by a gasp.

His cum is still in your mouth when he looks at you still catching his breath. You wipe your lips off after swallowing his seed to say, “You're always in a hurry.”

OH NO! Here it comes. “maybe I should just move in with you,” you lie. You know that he can read your mind, but you still lie because you've always wanted to know if he uses that against you or not.

“Why?” He puts his cock into his slacks. “why are you saying that?”

“I don't know. ” Shin holds your arm dragging you near the counter. It's as if you want him to read your mind.

“I wanted you to hurry ‘cause — he cages you as you lean back, against the counter after he drags the chair to take a seat. “because I wanted to do this.” He cups your entrance making you inhale a sharp intake of breath. You sit on the counter as he spreads your legs apart; he holds one of your legs near his shoulders to lick against your calf muscle. “you wouldn't hurry if I just told you so,” Shin leaves kisses over your calf muscle in an agonizingly slow pace. “Sakamoto-san has gone to an arcade. Lu had gone to visit her family.” Wait. What? “And I? Shin pushes aside licking your dripping arousal off your skin. It tastes like salt and weed. “I am alone with you inside a locked store” with a smirk.” Shin then proceeds to hook his arms around your inner thighs spreading them apart to bury his face in between your legs. At first, you watch him give you quick licks by using only the tip of his tongue but as you get a little comfortable, rest your legs on his shoulders, comb through the hair strands that were falling on his face ticking you as well as hindering him to taste your pussy, Shin starts to lap against your entrance using all of his tongue. Come to think of it, this is the first time he is going down on you. He feels so good though seems skittish. When did he get so good?

networks : @interstellar-inn + @underratedcharactercorner

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