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lovieku · 2 months ago

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INTRO ⋆ 정국

you’re jeongguk’s secret santa this year, so you give him the best gift he’ll ever receive.

⋆⁺₊❅. 1/6 from christmas & chill

pairing virgin!jk x fem reader

genre smut, fluff, friends to lovers, first time

warnings painfully oblivious jk, even more painfully oblivious oc, mutual pining unlike anything you’ve seen, jk being a hot nerd ceo who’s loaded rich and unaware of his potential, please imagine him as nam joohyuk in start up, oc just creaming her pants for jk, hand job, lowk strip tease, dry humping, nipple play (m&f), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, jk is so needy and impatient but also very polite, smut is kinda rushed because well… it’s his first time! sawrry! also i open gifts on xmas eve please don’t come for me and my traditions (it’s lich just because i’m impatient)

word count 8.3k

author’s note hello hello hello!!! i’m so nervy to post this because it’s what finally inaugurates c&c!!!! i hope it can be a pleasing (intro)duction to the series hehe… either way you’ll get something totally better from miss lyssa tomorrow so stay tuned Wink 🩷 luv u always

banner by the talented @awrkive ⟡ ݁₊ .

Secret Santas have become the only way you’ve been able to deal with Christmas. When it comes to gift-giving, you’re embarrassed to admit that creativity in that department doesn’t exactly come naturally to you.

You try your best, truly. But you either end up going over budget, striving to please all your loved ones with unnecessarily expensive gifts which will only leave you with empty hands and an empty wallet, or having your brain completely stop working, if not to come up with the most basic and useless options that will get you forced smiles and polite nods in fake recognition.

It’s exhausting, demoralizing, and frankly, a recipe for holiday burnout.

So when two years ago, on the brink of giving up entirely and seriously contemplating hibernating through winter, your dear friend Jimin swooped in and suggested Secret Santa, it completely reshaped your next Christmases.

Exactly a month before Christmas Eve, you reunite over drinks and food at Jeongguk’s house to draw names. His place always ends up as the default spot for dinners, movie nights, or even football matches. Those don’t usually get the attention of everybody, especially of some of the girls, and it wouldn’t get yours either.

But you never skip game night. Correction, you never miss an excuse to be in Jeongguk’s space, even if it means sitting through 90 minutes of men chasing a ball on a screen. After all, you’re never truly paying attention, always stealing glances at the boy who seems almost even more uninterested than you.

It’s about witnessing him in his house— which, truthfully, is more of a mansion. The spacious, cozy interiors mirror a part of him that’s hard to miss: his perfectionist side, the one that likes to keep things understated but can’t help leaving subtle, telling marks of his presence on everything he touches, is woven into every corner.

Over time, you’ve naturally come to associate the place with holidays, laughter, and celebrations that fill you with a sense of belonging. Being here, surrounded by your closest friend, makes you feel profoundly grateful.

And there’s so many traces of you all, too. The faint wine stain on Jeongguk’s carpet that is only still noticeable if you squint, the one that spilled from your glass when Hoseok’s jokes had you laughing too hard; the long, slim scratch on the kitchen door, courtesy of Eunbi, who thought learning how to balance glasses on her forehead would get one of her coworkers to finally fall for her; the wobbly vase on the coffee table that was knocked over during one of Jimin’s overly enthusiastic attempts to kick a water bottle open.

Watching Jeongguk deal with the chaos you all force into his space might be another big reason why you love being here. It seems to squeeze out his most genuine reactions and quirks, and you can’t help biting your lips at those, almost pornographically so.

For someone who works so hard to appear composed, and who’s also extremely shy and reserved, Jeongguk is hilariously transparent when things don’t go his way. Brows furrowed, as if that’s where he keeps all his control. Although, no matter how flustered he gets, Jeongguk almost never gets choleric. His instinct is never to lash out but to scramble, a picture of barely contained stress insisting that everything is fine.

And the more he insists, the more you find yourself wishing it wasn’t fine. Sometimes, you want to see him lose it— especially at you.

You’ve tried, too. You’ve pushed boundaries, done little things to test the limits of his patience, all for the slim possibility of seeing him crack, just for you. But it never works. The best you get is an awkward smile, maybe a quiet laugh. It’s not nothing, but it’s not what you want, either.

You don’t think you’ve ever felt this crazy about someone before. Not in the way where everything he does sends your brain spinning with possibilities. It’s maddening. His obliviousness is maddening.

Chiefly tonight, when you’re trying extra hard to keep it under control, the whole group gathering in a circle around the bowl that holds all your names, each one carefully folded into a little square, waiting to be drawn.

But when your slim fingers brush against one of the many crumpled pieces of paper and decide your fate, you send a small prayer to whoever might be listening. Please, don’t let it be Jeongguk.

It doesn’t really come off as a coherent request, especially considering how much your body has betrayed you tonight. Your thighs have been pressing together most of the evening, a subconscious reaction every time your gaze wandered — lingered — on Jeongguk’s lower half. Those low, slouchy grey sweatpants, hanging effortlessly off his narrow hips, have been the source of many inappropriate thoughts that you wish would make you grow some shame within yourself. Instead, they only make you grow hotter in your seat.

No, you would love to be Jeongguk’s Secret Santa with the blatant, embarrassingly huge crush you have on him. You think you’d be happy about it in any other universe, except this one.

Jeongguk is difficult. And not because he’s ever been argumentative, looking to start quarrels, never willing to agree or see past his nose. He’s far from those. He’s one of the easiest people to be around, rarely judgmental, even when you were drunk off your mind and you jokingly grinded on very-gay Jimin to make up for your lack of sexual activity. On those occasions, you didn't exactly see judgement in his eyes. Just reticence. Maybe. It wasn’t clear.

What is clear is that Jeongguk is incredibly particular. He’s picky about what he likes and even more so about what he doesn’t, though dislike might be too soft a word. When he hates something, it’s impossible not to know. He doesn’t even try to mask his disappointment.

It’s not malicious, of course. He’s not the type to be spiteful. It’s just how he is, an open book, his expressions giving him away without fail.

It’s one of the many reasons you love watching him, other than hoping your eyes would telepathically convey your undying desire to fuck him and cuddle him close to your chest afterwards. But most of the time, studying the shifts in his features is a way for you to decipher what he’s thinking.

And that’s why this moment feels so high-stakes. The last thing you want is to be on the receiving end of one of Jeongguk’s polite smiles or barely-there nods of acknowledgment, the kind he gives when he’s unimpressed. It would crush you, the ultimate failure in your short-lived career as a gift-giver.

It’s not just that he’s hard to please. Jeongguk is also the last person who seems to need anything. He’s loaded, his success as a game developer has afforded him a life where anything he wants is within reach. And yet, despite his wealth, there’s no arrogance about him. If you didn’t know him so well, you might think he was just another college student scraping by.

Who else but Jeon Jeongguk could walk around in a hoodie and square glasses, looking like he just rolled out of bed, while being the CEO of his own company?

But, of course, none of this is important. Because as you unfold the piece of paper in your hand, it’s there. Jeongguk.

You don’t think you enjoy Secret Santa as much anymore.

With the bowl continuing its journey around the circle, you spend the rest of the game staring holes into the back of Jeongguk’s head, desperately trying to figure out what in the world you could possibly get him. Your monthly budget feels laughable in comparison to his lifestyle, but you’re already prepared to go way over it if that’s what it takes to impress him.

You wonder if he’s as insecure as you are when he quietly unfolds the small, paper square he picked up and scans the name. His bug eyed expression doesn’t hide an evident surprise, the twitch of his eyebrows managing to conceal a possible disappointment.

For someone who’s usually so easy to read, Jeongguk seems uncharacteristically guarded in this moment, and it drives you crazy. You squint at him, frowning as you try to decipher any small detail on his face. Is he annoyed? Or worse, completely indifferent?

Either way, it doesn’t look like a positive reaction. If it ends up being you, you’ll rethink back to this moment and cry yourself to sleep.

With the first step out of the way, the night goes on following its usual rhythm. Only by the end of it, Jeongguk’s space starting to empty, you quietly help him put some order to the mess left behind by a too drunk Hoseok paired with his too drunk best friend Taehyung.

You keep yourself busy with storing some leftover food, managing to keep your tone unbothered when you ask, “Hey, Gguk. Wanna help me with the party planning this year?”

Always obliging to your every request, he only stutters slightly in his movements, the glasses he was cleaning clinking together. He clears his throat, “S—sure. I’ll help you, goldie.” The stammer doesn’t seem to be caused by any kind of hesitation, just an usual consequence to his nature. Reserved, quiet.

You nod, gulping way too loudly at the special nickname he has for you, and both of you keep your focus on your doings instead of witnessing the faint blush dusting your cheeks, “Cool. I’ll text you the details tomorrow.”

Details texted, your efforts to divert the conversation into something remotely playful failed miserably. Jeongguk is painfully formal, methodical as ever, hyper-focused on the party. When you sent him a TikTok you deemed adorable enough to nudge him toward a different matter, maybe hint at the dog being the cutest thing he’s ever seen and that you two should definitely adopt three of them and move in together, he still doesn’t get it.

gguk🤍: Oh… I asked my brother to keep Bam for Christmas Eve. I thought he would be too much of a hassle, especially with Iseul not being fond of dogs.

You had stared at the ceiling for a long moment after reading that text. Jeongguk is endearingly dense, and you don’t mind it most of the time. But it’s starting to cause quiet bursts of frustration when it comes to whatever undefined thing you two have, and what is clearly simmering for the eyes of everybody to see, except his.

You’d thought giving him his first handjob when he quietly confessed he’s never been touched, his voice a tremble in the calm aftermath of a chaotic group sleepover, would be enough to make him see. His quiet whimpers were hypnotizing calls that only you were meant to hear, and your fist pumping his girthy length with intent was speaking all you were afraid to voice.

Jeongguk came hard and unannounced all over your hand, pleasured sounds muffled in the side of your neck, and you’d assured him it was okay; he did good; that you would get something to clean him up. You didn’t sleep that night, and he didn’t either, spending the rest of it next to each other on his couch talking pointless conversation.

If that hadn’t opened his eyes, you were beginning to wonder what would.

“So… Do you have any idea what to gift your person?”

Jeongguk stirs his latte for the fourth time. You’d decided to meet at a café halfway between your cramped flat and his mansion, because it was the easiest way you managed to make your busy schedules merge.

“No, Gguk,” you acknowledge his question without meeting his eyes, focusing on the grocery list on your laptop instead.

What would? You’re starting to think subtlety isn’t cutting it. Maybe it never has. Perhaps the only way to break through that frustratingly thick skull of his is to go full throttle, strip naked right here in the middle of this café and spell it out for him.

Your eye involuntary twitches at the thought in relation to his question. Crazy Christmas gift, you reason as you stare maniacally at your bright screen. Yeah. Totally crazy.

Shaking your head, you can’t resist glancing up at him. The idea doesn’t seem so irrational anymore, not when your insides twist at the sight of his absorbed expression, his brows furrowed as he scribbles out unheard-of maths on a piece of paper to figure out group expenses.

With your chin resting in the palm of your hand, you abandon your pretense of being productive and let yourself watch him work. A teasing lilt slips into your voice as you prod him in your usual way, “Why should I believe you already don’t know who it is?”

He blinks up at you, promptly, like he always does when you speak to him, and he stumbles, “Huh— I don’t—”

“You so do. You probably already guessed it all with your nerdy brain.”

Despite looking mildly offended, his ears turn red anyway, “Nerdy brain—”

“Glasses look cute on you,” that shuts him up; his mouth, his brain. Completely unable to cater to any of their functions.

You smirk at the way he diverts his gaze, pointer finger unconsciously fixing the specs on the bridge of his nose, and you wonder how much longer it’ll take for him to notice that you don’t just go around calling everyone’s glasses cute.

Sighing, you continue, “Anyways. It’s not you.”

“W—what? Is it really not?” When he looks up at you with even wider eyes, you feel bad for lying to him but you still shake your head. He mutters, “Shoot. I was so sure I had it.”

A playful scoff escapes you, “See! You did sit in your nerdy room and tried to guess!”

“Stop calling me a nerd,” it’s a request grumbled in the most adorable way you’ve heard, and there’s no real heat behind it. Especially when he goes back to be exactly what he doesn’t want you to refer to him as, “Well, if it’s not me, it must be Taehyung.”

You pretend to busy yourself with your touchpad as you ponder on his eagerness. Then, you voice the result, “What’s the fun in knowing right now?”

Jeongguk hesitates for a moment too long before admitting, “I don’t know. I guess it makes me less anxious.”

It’s a raw kind of honesty, much like what he was painted all over with when he came from your touch, and it has you shifting your gaze back on him, now absorbed in doodling stylized portraits of Bam right next to numbers and additions.

You don’t know if it’s the hot chocolate still simmering in your tummy, the warmth from the coat laying on your legs, the café’s natural heat or Jeongguk’s proximity, but you buzz with something homely.

Ariana Grande’s version of Last Christmas replays for the third time in a row, and at this point you’re starting to believe it’s a conscious choice, but you don’t mind it.

Jeongguk belongs to the world the soft melody is building, hugged by a woolen white sweater, the wide glass window behind him giving the perfect view to a classic winter scenery, snow softly resting on any surface it finds and unconsciously bringing magic to dullness. Or maybe it’s just him adding that last bit.

You smile at his small confession, reassuring with your tone, almost drowning in the lively chatter of the place surrounding you, “You don’t have to be.”

Jeongguk only nods, tapping the pencil on his temple as he studies what he has so far with sudden doubt. He looks at your laptop, scanning the long forgotten visual board on your Pinterest, then back to his calculations.

Giving one more glance at the screen, he concludes, “By the way, I really don’t think that color would look good in my living room.”

Ugh.

You think you want to strangle him when he deflects so easily from these moments. And mostly, the burgundy he’s so easily refusing happens to be one of your favorite shades. Do your tastes ever match?

God, as much as you want him, you hope he’s not your Secret Santa.

────⋆｡˚❆˚ ｡⋆────

Jeongguk is your Secret Santa.

And on Christmas Eve, he’s pacing the length of his living room back and forth, his socks brushing against the polished wooden floor with each step. You’re supposed to arrive any minute now to help him with the final touches before the others come for dinner, and the idea of having you here alone is enough to make his hands clammy and his thoughts stumble.

The neatly wrapped gift with its shiny red paper sits tucked under the towering Christmas tree, the one adorned in messy decor that his friends jumbled up together. The item hidden inside the bag doesn’t share his anxieties, though he suspects his downstairs neighbour might have caught on to it with the incessant pacing.

When you ring the doorbell he’s jolted out of it and, practically tripping over his own feet, he rushes to the door and yanks it open. He would have let you in just as rapidly if his brain didn’t stop short at seeing you standing there.

You’re cladded in a soft sweater that looks two sizes larger, its beige tones complimenting the warm brown of his own jumper, and your short skirt peeks out beneath its hem, edged with lace ruffles. At your feet, a pair of chestnut Uggs that he can only hope are enough to make up for the cold shivers on your bare legs. Not that he’s staring, so intently he has to gulp down an impulsive thought. No, he’s just a naturally observing guy.

And that brings him to notice that your hands are empty, save for a small purse and a bottle of wine. No bag, no box, no sign of a gift.

When his gaze flickers back to your face, your eyes are wide and darting nervously between his own, narrowed by the frown that he can’t quite hide but bug sized the moment he catches a trace of insecurity in your shaky voice, “Hi.”

It could be the cold causing the brief greeting to tremble, small snowflakes laying on your neatly styled hair, shimmering for a brief moment before melting away. It pulls him out from his unabashed study of you, and he steps aside to let you into his much warmer space.

Your vanilla scent inebriating his senses has him forgetting all about your seemingly non existent gift, and how he suddenly finds himself wishing he truly did get something messed up in his calculations, that you’re not his Secret Santa.

But you are.

Many drinks later, filling up everyone’s stomachs along with shared food and belly laughter, it’s time to exchange gifts and the expression on your face is unlikely anything he’s caught on so far.

A huge contrast to the mellow Christmas tunes indistinctly playing in the background, your eyes are impassive as you word your excuses, “I’m sorry, Gguk. I forgot your gift at home.”

“Oh. It’s okay,” he says quickly, the words spilling out with genuine ease. And it really is okay. He’s not upset— far from it. The thought of you giving him anything at all, even belatedly, is enough to make him feel content.

But now, as the group’s attention turns toward him, his heart races for an entirely different reason. His gift for you, a lavish, over-the-top gesture that far exceeds the modest budget they all agreed on, sits waiting on his lap.

When it finds a new home atop your own crossed legs, you’re eager as you rip the paper, but your eyes don’t follow your movements. Instead, you focus on the nervous boy sitting across from you, your very own Secret Santa who’s monitoring your hands for you while subtly rocking from one side to the other.

His anxiety is endearingly soft, but you can see something more to it, almost an irrational fear of tripping on the wrong step, messing up something that’s supposed to be simple.

You hear it before you see it. The whole room inhales sharply in a collective surprise, with some gasps muffled behind hands pressed to mouths. You scramble for an explanation in their expressions, jumping from one face to the other, stopping on Jeongguk’s own, gaze glued to his fidgeting fingers, head bowed down to his lap.

When you slowly look down at what’s resting on yours, you almost wheeze. If they could, your eyes would leap out of their sockets.

Your palm instinctively presses on your lips as you look between the gift and the gifter in a frantic attempt to catch any sign that this is not what it is. With the music being the only sound eerily filling the sudden silence, you add to it, even if barely, with your voice a whisper, “What is this?”

Jeongguk gulps and finally meets you, “It’s m—my gift for you.”

It’s not like you even opened it yet. But the simple sight of the box had you grasping for support. On the pale, textured surface of the square box, the unmistakable gold lettering is what’s making your orbs shake in confusion: Dior.

You trace the sign with your pointed finger, tilting your head up to look at Jeongguk through your lashes, and you don’t know how else to put it, “Ggukkie… Were you there when we set the budget?”

Jimin butts in with a scoff, “Yeah, that’s like fifteen thousand won multiplied by another fifty thousand.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know what he should say. He’s scared of the deafening silence that follows, the way Jimin’s comment seems to linger in the air, the way you seem to struggle with finding something to say in response.

He begins, tries to, “I—”

“Fuck, Gguk,” the simple sound of your words has his mind spiralling, palms clammy with doubts that question his every choice leading up to this moment, feeling foolish for even thinking this could be right, a shot worth trying. What if you think he’s showing off? Or worse, overcompensating?

But what he fails to notice is the toothy grin that follows your shameless surprise, your fingers gingerly lifting the lid of the box, and really, if only he had the courage to look up at you he’d have avoided the worries.

He misses your reaction at the reveal: the prettiest earrings sit on a soft cushion, gleaming gold with delicate CD initials and cream pearls dangling gracefully beneath them.

“These are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. I love them. You didn’t have to.”

Jeongguk’s head snaps up. He meets your face painted with the most beautiful grin he’s ever seen you wear, your cheeks burning with red and your nose scrunching as you carefully slip the earrings to take a better look at them. With you, everybody else around him seems in awe, too. Their soft, endeared whispers begin to fill the earlier suffocating silence, melting into a sweetness reserved entirely for Jeongguk.

He exhales quietly, the welcomed warmth in his chest replacing the cold. He admits, no stutter, no fear, just a sheepish smile, “I wanted to.”

Jeongguk really did want to. It felt like his one shot. A desperate, last-ditch attempt at making you see him the way he’s always seen you; a declaration wrapped in gold and pearls.

He wants you to see him as more than the shy, awkward boy who stumbles over his words and blushes too easily. More than the nerd who spends too much time working on equations and codes half the world doesn’t know about. More, just to have you look at him a bit closer.

He wants to be a man, one who badly wants you, in your eyes.

They’re gleaming with adorable excitement as they flicker back to his, sheepishly accompanying your quiet request, “Can you… put them on for me?”

Jeongguk is at your side in no time, handling the earrings with care while trying to keep his usual clumsiness at bay as he fastens the dainty jewels in place. He begins to understand why it’s hard to see him as anything else but gawky when he feels his heartbeat speed up from the simple way his skin is brushing against yours.

Namjoon’s voice cuts through the spell, playful, “Oh, what a pretty princess. Jeongguk truly has an eye for this stuff.”

With the group following with chuckles and mindless banter, Jeongguk feels uncharacteristically bold, gaze fixated entirely on you as he lets himself spill something meant for you only to hear, “I think it’s just you. You’re beautiful.”

You’re clearly caught off guard, and it stings a little when he realizes the only reason he doesn’t get to see you this flustered often is because he’s usually busy being the flustered one. Blinking up at him through your lashes, your laugh comes out a little breathless, and the sweet way you let your cheek rest on your shoulder has him daring to hope.

“Nerd.”

But no. There it is again.

That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

He forces a smile that barely reaches his eyes, but you’re too engrossed with having your pearls admired by the rest of the group to notice. Those weren’t a waste; he would do it all the same. You deserve everything that makes your eyes shine, that brings the corners of your lips into that grin that shakes him, that can ever bring you joy. He just wishes it could bring you more than that; bring you to a bigger sentiment, a bigger realization.

Perhaps that’s why he can’t shake off the awful mood that pervades his senses throughout the rest of the night, the earrings hanging from your ears catching the twinkly, warm lights and mocking him with delighted amusement. There’s nothing else you can do, you nerdy boy.

Perhaps that’s also why, when the house starts to empty and you’re in his kitchen making yourself helpful with dishes, he slips on composure when you accidentally let a glass slide from your dainty hands.

It breaks the moment it meets the ground, and the sound penetrates his ears, both of you jumping at the impact. He hisses, “What— what the heck, ___!”

You’re startled, blinking up at him. It’s not the chaos from the glass, not its tiny pieces covering the floor and reaching your feet. It’s the deliberate frustration of his tone, one he’s never let free, especially with you.

You pant for apologies, but they can’t seem to be let out. Wide eyes jumping between his own bug ones, your brows draw up in shame. It has never been this easy to get him bothered. Hell, you’ve even struggled to.

Jeongguk only sighs, dragging a hand across his nape, and he regrets the quiet sharpness in his voice the second he lets it out, “God. Be more careful next time.”

He’s still quicker than you on his feet, moving to sweep the mess you’ve created before you can even react. You seem to move in slow, infinite motions, kneeling down to pick up the bigger pieces, all while keeping an unusual silence.

He steals a glance up at you, biting his lower pierced lip in sudden guilt, “Are you okay?”

Your hands pause, clutching a fragment of glass as your eyes flicker up to meet his. You nod, distant, and it does nothing to convince him.

He doesn’t even seem to be paying attention to your hesitant confirmation, rather he’s hyper-focused on your fingers, and before you realize the shift in his expression, he alarmedly blurts out, “Goldie. You’re bleeding.”

The sting barely registers for you until his words bring it to your attention. Looking down, you see a sharp, red line running across your finger, small but enough to make Jeongguk spring into action.

You’re lifted off the floor and ushered to the bathroom in fractions of seconds, letting yourself be handled like you don’t own your body. The only thing you want to be aware of is the switch in his behaviour. He’s back to normal once he’s in his quiet bubble of concentration, movements precise as he cleans the barely visible wound and carefully places a band aid over it.

All while he can’t stop apologizing, “I’m sorry for yelling at you. That was not your fault. But, this. This is my fa—”

“Jeongguk, it’s just a scratch.”

The way he meets your eyes with his face drawn tight and brows furrowed makes you rethink your statement. Maybe it’s more than a scratch. Maybe it’s the only thing that snapped him out of his frustrated daze.

“It doesn’t matter. You didn’t deserve that.”

Your first instinct is to giggle; it’s a resonance of the butterflies childishly swarming in your belly from the proximity and his careful words. Both your gazes soften as you accept each other, even the faulted versions of tonight, and a timid smile stretches over his lips.

You hesitate before speaking again, your mouth opening only to close, reconsidering your words; but then you finally let out what you had foolishly planned as your next desperate attempt to cling to him.

“Can you… My car is… Can you take me home?”

What you’re now sure you like the most about Jeongguk is how he caters to your needs before you even have to voice them. The soft kindness in his eyes, the way his body instinctively shifts to act before his mind even fully processes the request. He’s already nodding, ready to make it happen for you.

“Yeah. Of course.”

The heat in his car fans over your cheeks, dusting them with a soft red that has his Adam’s apple bobbing every time he turns to steal glances at you at stoplights. You keep talking, filling the air with contentment about the night’s events, and it’s like that subtle slip of his never happened.

It’s almost too easy to surrender and pretend that everything is fine, that he doesn’t feel the ache of wanting more. If staying a nerd in your eyes means getting to be this close, to hear your laughter, to see the slight curve of your lips as you speak, then maybe it’s enough.

His subtle gestures — adjusting the temperature so you’re comfortable, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter when your giggles spill into the cabin — don’t go unnoticed. They settle into you and have your heart beating anticipatedly.

God, you won’t regret what you’re about to do.

By the time he pulls up in front of your place, you promptly turn to him before he can offer anything else, voice a bit too eager, “Would you like to come inside?”

“Huh—”

“I’ll show you my gift.”

Jeongguk sits on your couch, because you tell him to wait there. And of course, he’s a great listener. Very obedient, willing to follow your every order.

His fingertips drum restlessly on his thighs and he can only busy himself with his surroundings, every detail speaking for you. What’s definitely more prominent is the intoxicating scent of vanilla that clings in the air, of which he hopes his lungs inhale the entirety of, never getting enough of everything that is you.

When you come into his vision again, walking down the stairs in quiet steps, you’re tightly hugged in a trench coat, the textured belt cinched snugly around you and accentuating the small of your waist. Under it, your legs are bare. It has his mouth drying and his legs spreading stiffly on the couch.

He thought he got better at hiding his concerning infatuation. He hopes he did.

That’s why he initially manages to chuckle and attempt a joke, “Are you going somew—”

“Ta-da.”

Jeongguk doesn’t think he’s breathing. He doesn’t think he can even breathe anymore. His blinking fastens, brain stumbling over itself as it tries to make sense of what he’s sitting in front of.

You’ve loosened the coat just enough for the fabric to fall and reveal what you’ve carefully wrapped for him. You’re a gift coming in a red lingerie set clinging to your perfect curves, your boobs deliciously spilling out from the sides of your lace top and the line of your panties thin enough to leave little to the imagination.

He pants, scanning over your body once, twice, three times, questioning if the wine was perhaps laced with stronger substances, “What— What is this—”

“It’s my gift for you. Merry Christmas, Gguk.”

Meeting your face again, he nearly groans. You’re almost bare before him, yet you still sport a crimson blush and your teeth graze your bottom lip in a sheepish smile, in a way that is so achingly you. He can feel himself throbbing painfully in his pants. Thinks he could cum just from this view, tip over the edge without a single touch, no matter how bad he needs it.

“Fuck.”

You’ve barely ever heard Jeongguk curse throughout the time you’ve known him for. He only sometimes reserves that for his monitor, Overwatch games causing his composure to slip in adorable loud whispers.

But it’s like you’ve broken his dam, and he only lets more slip as you walk slowly but certainly closer to him, coat discarded on the floor, “Oh my, fuck. Holy shit. Thank you. Thank you. I— I don’t know what to do.”

It’s a quiet plea, the one that’s hidden in his strained words but clear in his full eyes glazed over with anticipation, his hands hovering uncertainly over his thighs, chest still heaving and struggling with manual breathing. He’s begging to feel deserving of this, to have you prove to him that it’s what you truly want for the both of you, to have you touching him and to be touching you.

He can’t help the moan that escapes him when you position yourself in between his spread legs, bodies close yet not touching, but he’s dying to feel you.

Now your turn to bend at his every request, your head tilts and your smile widens the more he’s forced to crane his neck up to keep your gazes connected, pending off your every syllable, “You don’t have to do anything. Will you let me take care of you?

“Yes, please,” the confirmation is immediate and empty of hesitance. Under you, Jeongguk nods promptly with his lips agape, watering with want when you straddle his lap to sit yourself on him.

He wails, throwing his head back and searching for all the strength it takes from holding back his instinct to snap up against your core, snuggled atop his raging hardness. At his shameless desperation, your giggles fill his ears, and when they’re followed by your cold hand on his cheek redirecting his gaze on yours, he feels feverish.

Delirious, eyes barely keeping from rolling back, his brain reduced to senseless blabbering, “My God. Thank you for this.”

With his brows adorably drawn up, he focuses on your dilated pupils now that your faces are mere centimetres apart, and you close the distance with small pecks that trace his jaw, up to his ear lobe, whispering against the skin, “Are you seriously thanking God while I’m about to take your virginity?

Jeongguk hisses in a frenzied surge, his hands still unsurely keeping from touching you, and your sarcastic pun has him full on rambling, “Shit, sorry. I don’t even believe in God. This just feels too good to be true. You look like a fucking angel.”

“Ggukkie, language!” Your seductive tone along with your chuckle reverberates right against his chest, your hands moving to lead your own palms up and down his broad front, and when you subtly roll your hips against his clothed length, he breaks into a cry.

“Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’ll come so soon,” you don’t know if it’s the adrenaline of the moment, but you’ve never witnessed such a bold Jeongguk. It only spurs you further, your hand traveling down, and down, until it sneaks under his sweater.

When you find his nipple, you playfully roll it between your pointer and thumb, his trembling body bucking up in an unstoppable urge, quiet whimpers working to keep his tone down. But you want to hear him scream under you, just as loud as you can feel his heart beating.

You bite your lip as your eyes drift downward, watching where your bodies meet in slow, teasing drags. His wide palms press into the cushions on either side of you, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip, and when you lift your gaze to meet his face again the delicious buzz pooling low in your stomach intensifies, your lips parting instinctively. A pretty blush creeps up his neck, painting his sharp jaw and cheekbones in shades of red, and his eyes, clouded, desperate, and burning with unfiltered need, lock onto you with a gaze that makes your knees weak even as you straddle him.

The simple grinding through the layers of clothing you still have on has you releasing whiny gasps in the air, his cock sliding torturously between your folds, and if you’re so affected by every shift you can hardly fathom what he must be feeling under you.

So you wonder out loud, voice rough the more you feel his stiff nipple under your fingertips, “How long since you’ve been touched properly, hm?”

His body hiccups, shaking with the barely contained lust, “Since— Since you last did, goldie.”

You coo, slowing down your movements and bringing your fingers to the hem of his jumper only to lift it and toss it behind you carelessly, “You’re so sensitive, aren't you?” At the view of his exposed chest, you can’t help roaming the expanse of it and feeling the tensing muscles under your skin, and by now you’re sure your panties must be ruined.

“Puh— please,” the plea is barely coherent, whispered out messily through high-pitched moans, but he begs again, “I wanna touch you too.”

“Then…” You let your hands speak for you, moving them to lead his own big ones to rest at your thighs, letting them drag up the curve of your ass. You’re impossibly close to his lips now, fanning against them, “Feel me, Gguk.”

Unable to resist, you fall forward and catch his mouth with yours in a kiss that struggles to find a rhythm, that has your tongues tangled in an uncoordinated dance, but that inevitably has you both humming loudly in an effort to almost devour each other, and his hands digging in your bare skin only force a gasp out of you.

In an impatient rush, you urge him to unclasp your bra, his unpractised and shaky fingers being joined by your experienced ones to finally free you from the tight confines, and as much as he wants to make kissing you a sport just to win every gold medal and break record after record, he can’t help separating from your lips with a wet sound to look down at your exposed breasts.

Jeongguk groans, and this time he doesn’t need you guiding him. It’s his own palms moving to cup you, and the innocent, light feather touch causes you to throw your head back and resume your slow grinding on top of him.

Both of you are panting messes, his moans significantly louder the more he gets to knead at your softness only to slice his thumb over your hardened nipples, the contrast making his brows furrow in hazed need, and when you arch your back into him he squeezes your tit to his mouth, eliciting a surprised wail from you.

Even when he gets closer, your sensitive nub engulfed by his swollen lips, he keeps looking up at you for approval with wide, teary eyes that beg for you to praise him. And with a hand gripping his wavy locks, you nod repeatedly for him to keep going, “Fuck, baby. Just like that, oh my God.”

He hums lowly with his mouth stuffed, his fingers digging in your flesh the more you drag your cunt mercilessly over the outline of his thickness, and he has to release you with a pop and rest his head on the couch behind him, palms keeping you somewhat still by the waist, panting out a desperate request when he feels himself throb dangerously close to his high, “G—Goldie, I can’t. Don’t— Don’t wanna cum like this.”

You lift your hips just enough for the both of you to whimper at the loss of friction, and you murmur through a string of kisses along his exposed neck, “How do you want to cum then, huh?”

He only whines, cheeks flushed with want and eyes glossy, forehead creasing with the way his brows are stressing, “Please.”

You show no mercy, flashing him with a wicked smirk and a teasing tilt of your head, ��Ah-ah. Say it.”

Gulping with effort, his waist twitches up unconsciously to seek for your touch once again, and with his face turned to the side he admits in the smallest voice, “‘Nside of you.”

“Good boy. Gonna give you exactly what you want.”

He voices a loud cry just from the sound of your promise, only echoing more intensely when you hastily work at his zipper. It’s messy, uncertain, and it elicits breathy giggles from the two of you, drunk on adoration and high on desire.

Eventually, he’s stripped free from his confines, and his cock stands proud and hard, veins pumping the blood that has it throbbing against his toned stomach.

Jeongguk can feel your hooded eyes on him, can sense his tip wettening with the simple way you seem starved and eager to taste him, your hand coming too close to where he needs you the most before he gently grabs your wrist to stop it.

Automatically, your head snaps up, and the look on his face is one of nervous desperation, “Wan’ you to kiss me, please.”

You’re ready to comply to his every demand, and this one is as easy as it gets. You want to give him everything— whatever he wants, however he wants it.

Your lips mold with his in worldless acceptance, absorbing all you were afraid to voice to each other, making up for all the time you wasted, devoting to a sealed promise, the one that dances between your connected tongues, saliva making it wet and breathless.

Even more when your slim fingers trail down his torso before wrapping around his length, your wrist expertly flicking in a teasing touch, and his moan is unrestrained as it tears through the kiss. You swallow the sound greedily, steadying you against his chest rising and falling in frantic pants.

Before he can protest, his own hips bucking up in a silent beg for more, you steal the air from his lungs when you move your panties to the side and align your entrance with his tip, just to sink down on it.

The drag is slow and it has both of your eyes rolling back, pleased groans filling the air and straining against your throat when you fully sit yourself wrapped around his dick. You search for him, “You okay?”

“Shit,” Jeongguk seems hypnotised by the view of his thickness wrecking you in half, and his palms come to rest at your waist where his fingers dig into the skin. Your own playing with the hair on his nape only seem to make him more vulnerable, “This is perfect. You feel so good and warm, fuck.”

You’re not used to hearing him curse so openly and so often, and it naturally makes you giggle, the sound tickling his ears and leading his dilated pupils to look up at you through his lashes. Your sweet laughter fades into a lasting smile, one he can’t help but kiss, even if it’s all teeth, the contagious sight of your happiness getting to him too.

The moment is sickeningly sweet, bodies connected in more ways than one. With your kiss only deepening and your chest melting against his, you pull him impossibly closer by the back of his neck and start attempting slow motions on top of him.

You hear him through his thundering heartbeat, “Goldie… I— I don’t think I can last any longer, I’m so sorry, I—”

“Oh, shit, baby,” one particular shift has his length, deeply stuffed in your tight walls, finding your spot and teasing it with an electric buzz that travels through your body, “It’s okay. I’m so close too.”

The moment you try a firmier bounce and feel him find you again, you can’t help the way your movements fasten, your moans thick and low against your throat, his own louder and ricocheting through the walls.

You steady yourself with one of you palms on his thigh, leaning your weight back and finding a new angle to fuck yourself on him. He watches in awe as you work your fingers on your clit, rapid circling movements causing his mouth to hang open at the squelching sounds.

He pants, his wide hands guiding your riding, pushing you up and down, “Can— Can I touch you?”

You hum, but it sounds more like a whine, “Hm, of course, pretty boy,” the hand that was stimulating your sensitive nub now comes behind you to help support yourself on both of his muscular thighs, flexing under every shift.

Jeongguk is unpracticed as he leads his thumb to rest at your clit, applying a soft pressure and mimicking the same pattern he observed from you. He only seems to be focusing on his doing for the first few moments before he searches up for the reaction on your face, and he whimpers when he finds your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, your brows drawn up in pleasure.

You smile at the unconscious twitch of his chin, and give him just what you know he wants, “Always seeking my approval. You’re so good.”

The simple praise only has him working on you with more confidence, collecting some of your wetness and sliding it up along your lips. He learns fast, listening to your every sound and centering on your pleasure, as best as he can with his own knot getting closer to bursting.

You’re clearly affected by the simulations, your hips stuttering and riding around him, but you still make sure to concentrate on him first, “I’ll tell you when to cum, hm? You’ll listen to me, right?”

Jeongguk nods before he even knows what he’s agreeing to, “Y—yes. Yes, yes, fuck. I’ll be good. Wanna be so, so good for you. Wanna c—cum for you.”

“You’re so filthy, baby. Naughty boy. Fuck me.”

His hips meet you up with harsh thrusts that have you lose your balance on him, and you can only throw yourself with your arms around his broad shoulders, face hidden in the crook of his neck as he lets his desire take over, fucking up into you with a desperate need for release.

You think you see stars with the way he relentlessly pounds your hole, wet folds sliding along his length and causing a mess between you, his own slickness mixed with yours trailing down and pooling at the base. The sounds are inglorious, and they merge perfectly with your wails.

Breathing in his scent, you know he’s close from the way his thrusts are stammering sloppily, and his moans are closer to strained whines. You concede, “F—Fucking cum, Gguk. Cum inside me, fuck.”

He nods, slamming you down to meet his movements, desperate to feel you before he can stop himself, “Cum with me, pleas— Oh.”

When your walls spasm around him with your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave, causing you to shake in his embrace around you, he feels himself cum unannounced, hard and thick, sprouts of white liquid relentlessly pumping inside your warmth.

You milk him dry, both your wails drained with the effort and fading into breathless gasps, his arms around you falling limply at his sides. You’re sprawled on his chest, emptied from any energy, and he is just as spent with his head lolling against the back of the couch.

But you feel it in your heartbeats syncing, the realization of what happened, what finally happened. You feel it in his face moving down to find your lips and catch them in a sweet peck, his fingers trailing up again to trace lazy patterns on your back before tangling in your hair, grounding himself in you.

It’s your own smiles breaking through the kiss, lashes tickling, and both of you laugh senselessly as you come down from the moment.

“Fuck,” Jeongguk breathes out, voice raspy, “This was the best Christmas gift ever.”

You snicker, biting your lip to hold back your amusement, “Oh, baby. It was just an excuse to fuck you. I actually did forget your gift at home.”

“W—What?” His brows shoot up, his post-orgasm haze momentarily replaced with incredulity as his cheeks redden even more.

When Jeongguk straightens on the couch, so do you, steadying your weak frame with your hands splayed against his chest. Sheepishly, you confess, “Yeah. Bought you that Mario game yo—“

“Princess Peach: Showtime?”

“Yea—”

Jeongguk gasps dramatically, his excitement so pure it’s almost jarring considering what just transpired, and that he’s no longer a virgin, “God, I fucking love— that game. That is the best Christmas gift ever.”

You can’t hold back your laughter this time, shaking your head at how easily he slips back into his usual self, the one that had you buying a Victoria’s Secret set in that shade of burgundy he said he didn’t like just to attempt a crazy chance at having him.

Leaning forward, you press a lingering kiss to his lips that brings you back to the realization that you finally did get to have him, before murmuring against them, “Well, that and a second round. What do you say?”

“Please.”

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samantitaswrld · 7 months ago

Text

deadpool!

….as your boyfriend.

description: deadpool as your boyfriend!

pairing: deadpool x you!

contains: 18+, mentions of sex!

|an: just saw deadpool & wolverine.. couldn’t help myself.

- awful with emotions but always finds a way to make up for things whether through humor or sex.

- speaking of humor you’re never not laughing with him, or bickering, or fucking

- you’re the only person he can actually feel vulnerable and comfortable with, he cherishes that and he loves you so much for that.

- you’re his person, he would genuinely kill for you if it meant he would lose someone so important in his life.

- if someone makes you sad, mad or uncomfortable ooo…not his babygirl.

- he usually doesn’t keep people or friends in his loop often, they could find him annoying or over the top but not you.

- you love absolutely everything about him, his outlandish humor, his extroverted personality, his big ol’ mouth. you think it’s so hot.

- so hot when he’s mean to you so hot when he’s soft with you

- you literally bicker like two teenage girls all the time and he always somehow clocks your tea it’s ridiculous but you also find it impressive that he always has something to say that you cannot come back from😭

- god you need to pray that no man ever even has the thought of coming on to you… he’ll experience some banter with your boyfriend before it’s lights out.

- not only are you his but he’s yours! he’s super loyal and if he can’t get someone to back off , you sure will!

- you’re always having fun with him date nights are some of the best times of your life, he always finds a way to entertain you no matter what you’re doing.

- always gotta hand somewhere, your ass, a singular cheek, a titty, somewhere. how could you expect him not to! you’re all his.

- you literally have him wrapped around your finger, he’d do absolutely anything for you.

- also always bullying you he is so straightforward😭

“hon that has got to be the ugliest shirt i’ve ever seen on you”

“wade-“

“i know you got better in that closet that i snoop through and try on all your clothes when you aren’t home now go!”

- he’s so tall so if you’re short oh wow…you’re never catching a break

“soooo how’s the weather down there.” wade said, placing his elbow on the crown of your head.

“prick…”

…

“yeah that’s enough of that dirty mouth!” your boyfriend had announced before bending down and wrapping an arm around your behind, throwing you over his shoulder and positioning his palm on your ass.

“god, wade put me down!” you’d laughed playfully hitting his back.

“don’t make me have to spank you!” he said, lighting pinching your ass.

- do not get an animal bc it will quickly become his center of attention and he will defend it over you.

“wade, we’re having my mom over please put it in the room”

“ugh…she’s so mean isn’t she sugar?” he’d said stroking your pet, followed by a “yes she is yes she is!” as the animal licked his face.

sigh.

- good lord we got a cuddle monster on our hands!

- absolutely adores any type of affection and practically begs you for it 24/7. he loves being little spoon specifically. also loves it when u scratch or message his back, bc that also gets him going..

- speaking of, you got this guy rock solid 24/7

“hungry for seconds?” he joked, hugging you from behind and pressing his hardened cock against your ass.

“we literally jus-“ you’d started just to be interrupted mid sentence.

“so! cmon baby throw a dog a bone.” he muttered, hand already gripping your inner thigh.

you’d sighed, god you can’t resist him.

- it doesn’t matter what you’re doing he finds anything you do hot i stg

- a M-U-N-C-H! for life, literally came in his pants from eating you out once! he loves making you feel good.

- a goofball during sex he cannot do shit seriously😭 he be talking you and your pussy thru it!

- again, if you’re petite god help you bc he is large.

- babe, you better match his freak because yall doing anything.

- trying a new thing every night multiple times bc that sex is never vanilla and that dick is never tired! at some point he’s just making positions up😭

#deadpool x reader #deadpool #wade wilson #deadpool and wolverine #ryan reynolds #deadpool x you #marvel #mcu #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x you #deadpool headcanons

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salemwasnteverhere · 7 months ago

Text

How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet

Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,

Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p

Tengen

He couldn't care less

His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud

Like it's not his fault that dick is magical

After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night

He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"

He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow

Way to ruin the mood

But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor

"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so

He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head

"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing

"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen

Sanemi

Cares alot

Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?

You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison

Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.

Anyways

Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible

Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"

Not kidding I can see him doing that

He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.

But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window

One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!

Good Lord was he waiting for this

It took one punch and the guy was out

Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living

Rengoku

He's a good neutral between caring and not caring

Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams

So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck

The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up

"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology

Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you

"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden

"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.

It works for a bit before he's yelling again

You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes

He's actually quiet in bed though

So your the problem (real)

Obanai

I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be

Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud

It's your neighbor who was the problem

A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns

You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over

He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness

Obanai cared at first but got over it

You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed

Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons

At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"

Brother is STRESSING

Then you cum and he's like "ah"

Then he's like "Did you take it?"

You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting

Gyomei

Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer

Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?

Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.

And Gyomei loves it!

He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good

Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet

He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.

Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what

When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏

When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed

Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.

Don't worry he thinks its endearing

Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you

But your touches and now quieter moans made that better

And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard

Giyuu

Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed

Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color

He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips

If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will

Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.

But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet

You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.

So you nod and try to keep quiet.

You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?

Yeah that was you

You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."

And you couldn't help but laugh

Like howling

You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that

You've never seen Giyuu so panicked

But give him a week and he'll stop caring

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mulloey · 12 days ago

Text

unsullied

a late night google and a blurted question take you further than you’ve ever been before.

chan x 9th member!reader

part of my february festival

join my taglist

warnings: virginity loss, sort of innocent reader, reader is described as small, soft but kind of mean dom!chan, like he’s being so tender and loving but he has a filthy mouth, sub!reader obviously, fingering, unprotected sex, breeding, pregnancy mention, younger members being annoying (not during smut). chan is kind of an old head (literally uses the word ‘deflowering’ like it’s 1884 or something) and he definitely has a virginity/corruption kink. he cums very fast i do apologise but you’re so tight can u blame him? etc etc and hate is blocked.

—

“Have you guys ever fucked someone?”

The moment the words leave your mouth a few things happen simultaneously—Chan, halfway through a Diet Coke, chokes on his drink, coughing violently to try and catch his breath; Changbin yells, a horrified, scandalised sound, but his reddened face is telling enough. Minho just stares at you like he can’t believe the words that have just come out of your mouth. Like he can’t believe those are words you’d even know.

Jisung, trying not to laugh, is the first to respond. “Are you high?”

“Huh?” You ask. “Why would I be high?”

“Because it’s a weird ass fucking question to ask randomly.”

“What? Why?”

“It’s just sudden,” Chan says, chiming in as he usually does when Jisung gets the look on his face that he has now. “And it’s not really appropriate. What’s brought it on, though?”

You shrug sheepishly, embarrassed at their extreme reactions and Chan’s curious but scrutinising stare. You didn’t think it would go like this. “Just wondering,” you mumble. “People talk.”

“Which people?” Minho asks. “Where?”

“People. Online.”

“They say we fuck?” Jisung snickers.

“Not each other,” you say quickly, feeling the need to clarify, and he snorts. You shoot him a glare which he playfully returns. “But I saw it a couple times. When I was trying to see what people say about us.”

“And what were they saying, exactly?” Chan asks. He sounds slightly amused too, but you can tell he’s worried about what exactly you’ve been exposed to. He’s not wrong to; you know all too well how weird people can get about idols, but you wish he’d ease up a bit sometimes. He doesn’t seem to realise that you’re not that same wide eyed kid that showed up all those years ago. You’re an adult, and you think about adult things just like he does.

You clear your throat, face burning. This was a bad idea. “They were talking about, like, what we like,” you mumble. “Or what they think we like. Sexually.”

“So what do I like?” Hyunjin asks. He seems genuinely curious but Minho smacks him all the same.

“Yeah, I wanna know too,” Seungmin grins.

“That’s enough.” Chan’s voice is stern and it forces the room into silence. His eyes are narrowed and fixed on you but his voice softens a little when he speaks again. “You shouldn’t read about that stuff, it’s not real. Just gonna confuse you.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before standing up and wandering off the kitchen, muttering about needing some coffee. Jisung waits for him to leave before reaching over to slap the back of your head. “Pervert,” he grins.

—

You’re settled into bed, cozied up in your blanket and clutching the reindeer plushie Felix bought you on your first Christmas in Korea, when there’s a soft knock at the door. You make a noise of acknowledgement and it eases open enough to allow Chan to shuffle in quietly.

“Ah, are you all ready for bed?” He asks. You pull your blankets down slightly to show him your fluffy pyjamas. His smile is fond as he perches down next to you.

“I wanted to talk to you about our conversation today,” he says. “Is that okay?”

You flush, remembering how uncomfortable he’d looked; the stern gaze he’d fixed firmly on you—it’s the same way he looks at you when you really are in trouble, and it makes you feel small and scolded and childish every time he uses it on you. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Channie. I really was just wondering.”

His head tilts in confusion. “Why would you apologise for that? I always said you can tell me anything, didn’t I?”

You shrug, noncommittal. “You didn’t say I could ask you anything,” you mumble. “Or ask about… that.”

He just laughs. “Semantics, love. You can ask me whatever you like.” He squeezes your calf, rubbing it soothingly. He figured out a long time ago that touch—his touch, specifically—calms you down; soothes your perpetually anxious mind when nothing else can. He’s never asked about it and you’ve never discussed it; it’s just a silent understanding between the two of you. He looks at you almost apologetically. “I was just caught off guard earlier and I knew it wasn’t a good time with Jisung there to make it all into a stupid joke. It’s a serious thing, sweetheart. You know that, right?”

“I know.”

“If you have questions, I really do want you to ask me. But it’s better to do it in private, yeah?”

“Yeah. Well.” You trail off, hesitant and he says nothing; just waits patiently for you to gather your thoughts and string them into a sentence. “You never answered the question.”

“What question?”

“That question.”

“Ah.” He nods. “That question.”

You groan, nodding embarrassedly and he laughs again. “I have. Have you?”

“Come on,” you whine. “You’re just making fun of me now.”

He grins, caught; it’s a well-known secret among them that you tend to shy away from relationships, or really any contact with the opposite sex outside of them and work. And even if it wasn’t; the embarrassment with which you speak about these things, as if the words are foreign and uncomfortable on your tongue, says it all.

You cross your legs, staring at him curiously. “So you really have fucked someone.”

“Yes, I have.”

“Oh.”

“Is that something you’ve been thinking about?” His voice is soft but his gaze is dark and fixed on you. “Having sex?”

“I mean,” you mumble, shrugging slightly. “I’m old enough, aren’t I? Everyone else is doing it.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to,” he frowns. “It’s not something you should do just to fit in or anything. You do it because you want to, no other reason.”

“Oh. And… if I do want it?”

“Find someone you like and trust who wants to do it with you, talk about what it is you want, and let it happen naturally.”

“Right.”

There’s only one problem—there’s no one you like and trust who you’d actually want to do that with. All the men you’re decently close to are trainees or other idols who can’t afford to be seen slipping in and out of another dorm, and you’re not particularly attracted to them, anyway. You’ve never really been attracted to anyone.

Well. Almost.

Chan’s gaze is heavy on you and you can’t help but squirm uncomfortably beneath it; when he looks at you like that you feel exposed and seen on a level you’re not sure even you have access to. He affects you now just as much as he did the day you met him—when you’d shuffled into their practice room shaking and stuttering with nerves, certain they hated the idea of a new female member and resented you for being it; when he’d taken your hands in his and told you how happy they all were to have you here.

He’s been a guiding force for you since that day—a firm hand when you were out of control and a safe haven when everything was too much to bear; resolute in his determination to care for and nurture you and his assurance that he would never, ever allow you to face it all alone.

He’s the only person you could even picture yourself trusting with this. He’s the only person you want to trust.

You wonder if he knows he’s the only one you fantasise about; if he’s heard the way you squeaked his name in the small hours while you explored yourself with your fingers and tried not to wake the others. You wonder if he’s seen the way your eyes linger on his hands, his arms, the vein in his neck. If he’s seen the way you stare at him like he’s all you’ve ever wanted.

You let the words fall from you before you can change your mind and swallow them forever.

“What if… I wanted it to be you?”

The silence that descends is the longest and heaviest of your entire life. Every possibility, from him laughing at you to hitting you to kicking you out of the group entirely crosses your mind—what you didn’t anticipate is the way his eyes darken, jaw tensing the way it does when something is pulling at his strings and he’s trying desperately not to let them snap.

“You want it with me?” His voice is level and controlled as always but there’s another, deeper layer to it that you’ve never heard before. His fists curl into your soft sheets like he’s holding on for dear life and you can’t pull your gaze away from the way the veins in his forearms bulge under the pressure.

“Yes,” you whisper. “I… there’s no one else I trust like that.”

“Jesus.” He closes his eyes and you see his chest rise and fall with deep, staggered breaths. He’s… well, you don’t quite know what. But he’s not got up and left yet, which is a good sign. “You really want me to do that? You won’t… you can’t get your virginity back once it’s gone. You should save it for someone… someone that’s not me.”

“I don’t want to,” you say, half pleading by now. “Chan. I want you. I want you to do it. I want…I want you to be the first.”

His jaw tightens. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do.” You try to sound confident but your nerves are seeping into your voice from the pit in your stomach. “I swear.”

“I shouldn’t even be considering this,” he mutters. “What you’re asking me—to deflower you. To take your innocence from you. You shouldn’t give me that power.”

“Why not?”

He says nothing for a moment, like he’s looking for an escape and then you catch his gaze, your face hopeful and desperate and it’s like something clicks. His expression shifts into something understanding and… “Fucking hell,” he grunts. “How long have you wanted this?”

“A long time.”

“I’m a bad person,” he says quietly, disgustedly. “I’m a terrible person for even entertaining this.”

You’re not, you think. But that won’t convince him. You both know this is crossing a line. “I don’t care,” you whisper. “I don’t care at all.”

“Me neither.”

Before you can blink the blanket is pulled away and he’s hovering above you, face inches from yours. His breathing is heavy, laboured and you’ve never seen his eyes so focused or intense or… dark.

“Tell me you want this,” he says. “In words.”

“Chan,” you whine, squirming beneath him with increasing frustration. “Please.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Use your words, baby. I. Want. This. Sound it out.”

“I want this,” you repeat it with wide eyes, clinging to the words as they fall from your mouth. “I really want this, Chan. Take me. Please.”

And his lips are on yours; wet and desperate and messy and you kiss him with urgency as though his attention is in short supply. He cups your face in his hands as he nudges your legs apart with his knee and inches it further and further upwards. “You don’t know,” he gasps between kisses, “what you do to me. What your fucking, shit, what your words do to me.”

“Show me,” you whisper. “I can… I can take whatever you give me, Chan.”

He pauses for a moment, movements ceasing and the smile of his face is safe and threatening and warning all at once. He just chuckles. “Not tonight,” he whispers. “Tonight I‘m gonna be gentle. Gonna take such good care of you.”

Your stomach twists at the implication and the image it conjures of what Chan might be like at other times—rougher and harder than what you’ll see tonight; concealed for now but still simmering beneath the surface. Could you bring that out of him today? Do you want to?

“Chan.” You shift underneath him again, lifting your hips desperately and he grins, pushing them back down with one hand. “Easy,” he mumbles. “Easy, baby, I got you. You’re gonna get this dick, don’t you worry.”

“Now,” you groan. “Chan, now.”

Something flashes in his eyes but it’s gone before you can decipher it and he smiles pleasantly at you. “What do we say when we want something?” He asks.

“Please.”

“Good. I’m gonna take those panties off, yeah?”

You lie limp while he manoeuvres you, getting you ready for him; your panties slide off with your sleep shorts, places carefully by his side; his hands are warm and steady where they brush against your thighs and he makes a deep, strangled sound at the sight of your pussy. “Fuck,” he says. “You’re soaked.”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“All for me?” He smiles. “It is, isn’t it? Could only ever be for me.”

He pushes the first finger in slowly; gently and subtly so you scarcely notice the intrusion until he’s all the way in and pumping it in and out of you slowly. You squeak, thighs clamping together on instinct and he tuts, pushing them apart with his other hand. He slots his leg in the gap to keep them where he wants them. “Don’t run from me, pretty girl,” he grumbles. “Gotta be good f’me if you want this dick.”

“I wi—hngh—” The word dies in your throat when he pushes another finger inside and you cry out, throwing your head back against the pillow. He curses under his breath, eyes blazing.

“Forgot how fuckin’ sensitive virgins are,” he says. “Never been stretched like this before, have you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. “Of…of course not, Channie.”

He hums, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. “Good,” he grins. “That’s good. God, you’re gonna feel fucking fantastic around my cock.”

Just the mention of it has you mewling and reaching for him, for the sweatpants that hang from his hips and he laughs, nudging closer so you can finally feel his growing bulge. You gasp, mouth open and your eyes flicker between your hand and his face. “Oh.”

He tilts an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You…” You swallow, trying to clear the nerves gathering in your chest. “Are they usually… um. How does it fit? In there.”

His eyes soften briefly, and the look on his face is the same one of fondness and care you’d seen the very first time you met him. “It’ll fit, bunny,” he mumbles. “M’gonna make sure of it.”

You’re not sure if you believe him; you’ve never felt a dick before but you don’t think they’re usually as big as him. Just the thought is painful, and you wonder how you’re meant to handle it, how you could possibly take it without breaking—

Oh. You remember now. Your face is crimson when you call for him softly. “Channie?”

“Hm?”

“I— um. I have lube. In my drawer.”

He seems to go through a few different cycles of emotions at once before he settles on a cool, curious smile. If he wasn’t knuckle-deep in your pussy right now he’d be teasing you like he normally does. “Lube, huh?” He muses. “Why’d you buy that, honey?”

“I didn’t,” you say. “It was, um, my birthday—”

“Your birthday?”

“Yeah, um. They thought it would— that it would be funny. To give me that. Because I don’t… I’m not into that stuff. Or I wasn’t.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes. “They being Jisung and Seungmin, I’m going to hazard a guess”

“Yeah.” You giggle slightly and he chuckles too; it eases the tension slightly, reminds you of who you’re with and how little you have to fear in his hands. “And they, um. Jeongin got me something too.”

“Go on.”

You bite your lip, nearly chewing through it as you reach for your desk drawer and pull it open with shaking hands and you see the moment it registers with him exactly what’s lying there, still in the plastic wrapping—a dark red and obnoxiously large dildo. Probably bigger than Chan and definitely unused.

“Dickheads,” he mumbles. He grabs the lube that sits next to the unopened box and slams it shut almost petulantly. It makes you laugh again and he fixes a firm but mostly joking glare on you. “You keep encouraging them and I’ll fuck you with that dildo instead.”

Oh, no. No, you don’t want that. You want Chan. You mumble an apology and he chuckles, pumping his fingers in and out of you a few times before pulling them out. The snap of the bottle flicking open makes it jump and he bites back a smile.

He doesn’t waste time building tension before pulling his dick out, just yanks down his sweatpants and underwear and practically empties the bottle onto his dick. “Can’t have you hurting, baby,” he says. “You’re too pretty for that. Tight, too, I bet.”

His hands come down to rest on each of your plush thighs, holding you down as much as comforting you as he slowly pushes in. The stretch is still noticeable even with the lube but it’s not painful, and you take it all with a brave face. He’s cooing at you as he pushes further and further inside until he finally buries himself in you with a grunt. “Fuck, good girl,” he whispers. “Tighter than I dreamed of. Shit.”

He waits a moment, letting you adjust to him before he slowly starts to move; rocking back and forth and getting harder and firmer with each thrust. You whine and mewl and groan with his movements, unable to think of anything but him and all the different ways he could take you apart.

His composure breaks quicker than he’d have liked and soon he’s fucking into you desperately, like his hips are moving of their own accord and unable to stop. You cry out, sobbing his name but it feels so fucking good. So fucking perfect and you both know it.

His sweat is falling onto you, landing on your face and chest and his breathing is heavy and erratic; jaw clenched in focus and frustration. “You’re so fucking fragile, baby,” he grunts. “So little. I could break you.”

“Please,” you cry. “Chan, pl—”

“Next time,” he says. “We don’t have time now. You need to be bred.”

Your breath hitches, stomach twisting. “Bred?”

“Yeah, baby. Need to be knocked the fuck up, don’t you? Clench around me, c’mon, I got you.”

You do your best to obey, squeezing you walls as best as you can around his dick and it’s all it takes to push him over the edge, shouting and spluttering through his orgasm until he practically collapses on top of you. He removes himself quickly, not wanting to crush you. He rolls off of you to lie at your side but he makes no move to remove his dick, still sitting stuffed inside your hole while drops of cum leak out around it.

“Channie,” you mumble.

“You did so good, my baby.” He strokes your face, gentle and tender and you’ve never seen him look so content. “Fuck. Thank you for— for letting me do that. Letting me be your first. I’m so glad.”

“Will you do it again?” You ask softly. “Fuck me, I mean.”

He looks at you like you’ve asked something obvious but his gaze hardens as it flickers up and down your flushed, sweat-soaked body. “Of course I will,” he grins. “Every fucking day, princess. You’re mine now.”

—

skz taglist: @miyaluvvsyou @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @yabbadabbatuh @pixie0627 @ghstin91s @tangerineastronaut @lemonkait00 @aloevendetta @fancypeacepersona

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #mulloey writes #9th member smut

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0097linersb · 8 months ago

Text

𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 (m)

Pairings: Wooyoung x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 15k ~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI pls

Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3

Part 2

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

As someone who has been single for the past 2 years, you often found yourself missing certain things and feelings. It´s not even the dating in itself that you craved, you were in fact, very content with being alone, and after all your inner healing and growth, you didn´t even think you were ready for a relationship at this point in your life. But as you and Wooyoung were on your couch lazily spending the afternoon, you found your body and mind screaming for comfort at the sight of the rainy day outside.

Your friend had his head on your lap as he played some online shooting game on his phone, the movie you intended on watching now only serving as background noise as you drifted off, hands absent-mindedly playing with the strands of his hair that fell on top of your thighs.

Hand-holding.

That´s something you really missed. The feeling of interlacing fingers with someone as warmness spread through your body. When you were dating, you weren´t even that into holding hands, uncomfortable with not being able to move freely or with the way your palm seemed to always feel clammy – But now? You would kill for a chance to walk around a park linked with someone.

You also really missed being so familiar with someone that you just felt at ease, having a person there to do nothing or everything with, being able to talk or gossip about anything. You remember spamming Mingyu´s chat with every little thing that happened during your day and him just being genuinely happy to hear about it, replying to every single message in order. As your best friend, Wooyoung was someone you talked to a lot, but you still couldn´t text him about how you already drank 6 glasses of water or how you were annoyed because your stapler kept getting stuck – Those are the annoying little things you only get to share with a significant other that has the obligation to put up with you.

And showering together. You almost felt dramatic tears fill your eyes at the thought of it; sharing the hot stream of water with someone, have them rub soap down your back or massage shampoo onto your scalp, or just simply holding someone in the dark under the running water as steam filled the room.

Oh, and free massages. You definitely missed those, being able to ask for a massage at whatever given moment with the certainness that you would receive one. Mingyu´s love language had always been acts of service, meaning you wouldn´t spend a single day without his hands squeezing your shoulders or rubbing down your back.

Maybe you should call Mingyu. Something along the lines of “hey, I know we broke up a few years ago but can you come like, hold me for a minute? Cuddle until we fall asleep?”

You were so touch deprived you could cry.

There was also the intimate part of a relationship; You had tried casual sex, one-night stands, friends with benefits, even a Tinder hook up once – It just wasn´t for you. It´s not even the sex on itself that you longed for, you could spend another few years without it if it came down to it. But you did miss what came with being intimate with someone who truly cared about you. When it comes to casual flings, people are normally selfish (yourself included), doing the bare minimum to get the other person off but truly aiming for their own pleasure; it was nice being with someone who´s main priority was making you feel good without the need of having the “favor returned”.

What you really did miss though, was a bit cruder: You missed the feeling of someone´s dick in your mouth, the groans and whines that came with it, hands tangled in your hair, your tongue tracing hot veins as someone praised you. You missed having someone´s fingers inside of you, your walls tight around them as they pumped in and out of you with ease. You also really fucking missed someone eating you out.

You subconsciously pulled a bit on Wooyoung´s hair out of frustration but he didn´t seem to notice, eyes fixated on his game. You gently pat his head where you had tugged on the strands and went back to playing with his hair, letting your mind take you away once again.

Again, it´s not like your relationship with Mingyu ended badly, surely, he wouldn´t mind if you called him up to go down memory lane for a night-

You had never noticed how plump Wooyoung´s lips were.

He had a habit of pouting when he was focused, or biting on his lips when he was extra concentrated – which he was doing just now as he tried to shoot at someone who was trying to kill him. When he finally managed to take out the other player and escape, he let his bottom lip go, now all red and glistening as he cursed out loud. They just looked so soft and plushy, and the mole he had on his bottom lip –

You suddenly realized you were kind of obsessed with Wooyoung´s nose shape. You know what people say about big noses… Also, how good would it feel bumping against -

“You´re being way too nice. What´s going on?” Wooyoung´s voice suddenly interrupted your thoughts, causing you to jump in shock and realization that you were just thinking about your friend eating you out.

“I am nice, just not to you,” You correct, meeting his eyes which were looking up as you noticed you were still running your fingers through his hair.

“I have very strong opinions about that, but either way, it´s what I meant. Why are you being nice to me?”

“Am I?”

“I remember very clearly the last time I asked you to cuddle me, almost got down on my knees begging and you just looked at me like I had rolled around in the trash.”

“You were quiet today, behaving like a normal person-”

“Go on, call me a good boy. I know you want to,” He rolls his eyes.

You laugh out loud at that; he did know you well.

“Nah, you´ve ruined it the moment you opened your mouth.”

“Guess I´m a bit further from perfect than I thought, getting there though. How was the movie anyways?”

“Oh, did it end already?” You asked, finally looking at the TV and realizing the credits must have been rolling for a while. “Wasn´t paying attention.”

“What were you even doing?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you, a second away from calling you stupid.

“Thinking.”

“About?”

“Calling Mingyu,” You half-lied.

At that, he managed to furrow his eyebrows even more, the biggest judgmental face he had ever sported looking up at you, “Why? Are you suddenly into him again?”

“No.”

“Then why?”

“I don´t know, just-”

“Oh my god,” His eyes widened, and he covered his mouth in shock. “It´s a booty call.”

“It´s that what people call it these days?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole ordeal.

“Oh my god, so it is.”

“I guess?”

“Y/N, it´s been like 2 years. I know you´re hot and he´s a man but I think that conversation would be kind of weird. Were you planning on texting him a wanna come smash?” He questioned you as he sat up. “Do you even have his number?”

“No, I - I don´t know. I- Let´s change the subject.”

“Let´s absolutely not.”

“You´re being annoying.”

“Aren´t I always?”

“Yes, defin-”

“If you´re horny, why don´t you text that last guy you were going out with? He was hot too.”

“Ew, don´t use the word horny.”

“Would you prefer I call you needy?”

Maybe you would, yeah, very much.

“No, ew. Just stop talking all-together.”

“So, why don´t you text him?”

“You know I can´t really enjoy it much when I´m not like, close to the person.”

“So you thought of your ex,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah.”

“Has literally not even one of the guys you hooked up with gotten you off?”

“I mean, some of them did. But I don´t want to just get off, I-I- I don´t even know what I want, can we please chan-”

“You want to be treated like the little pillow princess you are, got it.”

Did he have to say it like that? Suddenly you felt the pulse between your legs raising its intensity. Oh god no, you were absolutely not getting turned on by Wooyoung´s crude choice of words.

Anyone but Wooyoung!

“Who says I´m a pillow princess? Am not!”

“Ah, please. You scream I´ll bring nothing to the table besides looking pretty.”

“Is that how I come off as?” You gasped at that, feeling deeply offended. “You´re full of shit.”

“Why are you even getting mad? There´s nothing wrong with that, I´m sure you´re really good at looking pretty under a guy.”

“Please stop picturing someone else fucking me?”

“Who says I´m picturing someone else?” He winked at you teasingly.

You literally, in your over 20 years of life on this earth, have never - not even once - thought you would actually choke over someone´s words. This was Wooyoung, you were used to his ways, c´mon!

“Yeah, let´s not do that.”

“Awn, pretty princess got flustered,” He cooed at you.

You knew he was just teasing you; you knew there was no real sexual intent behind his words because that was Wooyoung, he flirted and teased as naturally as he breathed - but they still got your thighs tensing and you hating yourself for it. Couldn´t you just take a joke for what it was?

“Although now that I´m thinking about it, I wouldn´t be surprised if you turned out to be a brat in bed. You´re already the biggest one normally.”

“Look who´s calling me a brat,” You rolled your eyes once again. It didn´t matter if he was right or wrong, Wooyoung had no right calling anyone that when he was the way he was.

At that, he presented you with the most attractive smile you think would ever exist in the world, a mixture between cunning, excitement and condescending, “You think I´m bratty?”

“Oh, I´m sure of it.”

“Maybe I´m just good at matching energies, you know?” He winked, teasing you further.

“Fuck off. I know San forced you on your knees more often than I´d like to imagine.”

“Because I allowed him to.”

You snorted, “Yeah. Sure thing, honey. Now let´s move along, please.”

Except that, your mind decided to in fact, consider his words. Wooyoung liked teasing and annoying people for his own entertainment, he whined at you every time he didn´t get things his way and he was always playfully flirting with everyone - and you meant literally everyone. Because of that, you had always just kind of assumed (but never spared it many thoughts, thank God) that your best friend was just someone who like to be dominated when in relationships, or sexual encounters for the matter.

But honestly, you could kind of see it differently after his comments. It was true he always had everyone wrapped around his fingers and somehow, he always managed to get things his way - Wasn´t that also some form of control? The lines were kind of blurred when it came to Jung Wooyoung, but that was kind of even more attractive to you.

“Oh my god, you´re thinking about it,” Wooyoung teased.

“You´re the one who started it!”

“You don´t have to stress your pretty little head over it,” He smiled, his finger finding it´s place under your chin to tip your face in his direction playfully. “I can show you.”

Oh, absolutely not.

Your eyes fluttered shut for a millisecond at his words, your guard crumbling surprisingly fast as you practically whimpered, “I know you´re joking but can we please not?”

“Why?”

Couldn´t he stop giving you that annoying freaking smile?

“Because I am kind of horny and I really don´t want to go there,” You practically growled.

Now he was the one who broke character, not expecting you to be actually affected by his jokes, before the teasing smile was back on his face in a heartbeat - but you saw it.

“Did I make you horny?” He teased.

“Of course not, I was already horny before. I´m just in a weird mood.”

It wasn´t necessarily a lie. If you weren´t already feeling some type of way since earlier, you would have never - and you really mean that - caught yourself thinking about Wooyoung´s stupid plump lips or if he could actually fuck you.

“So, you were thinking about getting dicked down while I was here innocently lying down on your lap? You´re dirty,” He snickered.

“It wasn´t weird until you made it weird,” You groaned in frustration. This is really not how you imagined your afternoon would go down.

“Want me to help you out?”

“Got any hot friends who are also not my friends?”

“I do,” He nodded with his head. “But I´m also right here.”

Your eyes almost flew out of your head. You always judged yourself as the only person immune to Wooyoung's weirdness, deeming that nothing the man did or say would ever surprise you since you basically were the same - but you now guessed the tests became harder as the years passed.

“I can´t really tell if you´re joking-“

“I am absolutely not.”

“Yeah, not going to happen.”

“Why?”

“Because!”

“I know you can use your big girl words.”

“Because as much as it pains me to admit it, we´re best friends. I guess?”

“Now you´re the one who´s making it weird. You´re hot, I´m hot. You´re horny, now I´m horny. What´s wrong with helping each other out?”

“What´s wrong is that I never really saw you like that!” You whined.

“But you´re seeing now.”

“Yeah, and I don´t like it!”

“Tell me,” He raised an eyebrow at you, a devilish glint on his eyes matching his smile once again.

“What?”

“What you imagined me doing to you.”

“Oh my god. Nothing!”

“Oh c´mon, I won´t think you´re in love with me or anything. I know we´re friends and I´m a man, if there is one thing I can understand is simple plain old horniness.”

“How is this so easy for you?”

“Oh, I already imagined fucking you many times. In many different ways, too,” Wooyoung stated so casually, like he was talking about his shopping list for when he went to the supermarket later. “You know that one time at Seonghwa´s pool when you were wearing that little orange bikini? I must have made up at least 4 different scenarios, just that day.”

“I feel kind of violated?”

You also felt the way something throbbed in between your legs at his words but he didn´t need to know that.

“As I said: I´m a man, Y/N. I love you and would never do anything to make you uncomfortable or fuck up our friendship, but there´s nothing wrong with fantasizing. It´s not like I actively decide to do it either, it just happens, I don´t know.”

“Do you just casually think about fucking all your friends?”

“No, only the hot ones. And it´s not something I keep thinking about all the time, I´m not a creep. Just once every blue moon hormone takes over or something. Also, you´re a fool if you think any of your other friends who are into women have never, not even once, thought about fucking you.”

“Yeah, I´d rather be a fool,” You rolled your eyes. “Also, San hasn´t!”

“San would quit his dream job in a heartbeat if I called him over for a threesome right now.”

“Yunho then! He would never -”

Wooyoung laughed at that, “Honey, I have something to tell you-“

“Please don´t.”

“Anyways, you´re not lacking options to help you out. All I´m saying is that I´m here and I´d be more than glad to be the one,” He had the audacity of winking at you. “Since you were already thinking about it.”

“I´m begging you to please drop it.”

“Only if you tell me what you were thinking about.”

“Oh my god! You know what? Let´s play your stupid fucking game, Jung Wooyoung. I´ll tell you if you tell me first.”

“So, you do know how to have fun,” Wooyoung gave you a big smile, his eyes disappearing in happiness as if you had just told him you got him a new car. “What do you want to know?”

“About the day at Seonghwa´s pool.”

“Fun. I will use your own words then: I was in a weird mood that day and then you just took your clothes off and looked so good in that bikini. You were sunbathing and at some point in the afternoon you went inside Hwa´s house to get something from the kitchen and my brain just kept flashing images in my head: what if I followed you into the empty house, pushed you against the nearest wall and fucked you, watching as you tried to keep quiet so the others wouldn´t hear from right outside? Your cheek red from rubbing against the wall, your -”

“That´s scenario number one.”

“You want all of them? Kinky.”

“I can just go-“

“Calm down, princess. See? I knew you were a brat.”

“Wooyo-“

“Later when I was sitting down on the sunbathing chair with you while you were helping me out with the sunscreen, I noticed how my hand was so close I could pull the bottom of your bikini to the side and just slip my fingers in, right there in the open, no one would even notice. I wondered if you were already going to be wet and how you would sound trying to keep your noises inside with my knuckles deep into you. I couldn´t imagine a better sight than you all pretty clenching around my fingers or how you would look trying to casually spread your legs for me without anyone suspecting. I even went as far as imagining us getting caught, can you picture Mingi noticing what a little slut you are and trying to watch without getting caught himself? Poor boy wouldn´t know what to do with himself, would just loose his mind at how hot you´d look. I wondered if you´d like that he was watching –“

“That´s scenario number two,” You interrupted before the skin where you dug your nails into could start bleeding from your efforts to ground yourself and not squirm like an animal in heat at Wooyoung´s words.

He was good, you had to give him that.

Wooyoung laughed at you and you wondered if he had any clue about what he was doing to you. Then you mentally slapped yourself because of course he did, he had eyes.

“When everyone went inside to make some drinks and start on dinner, you sat there on the edge of the pool and started kicking water at me. Remember that? I happened to notice the edge was just the perfect height for me to eat you out from the pool, and you even had your back to the door. We were all alone out there and even if someone came out, I would be hidden from their view in between your legs. I could picture my hands holding your thighs open and your back arching-”

“Yeah, ok. That´s enough. I´m going to go, humm, shower or something and you can just like leave-”

“Can I join?” He joked as you stood up.

“No.”

“Can I at least stay outside listening?”

“What? I´m not going to mastu- Wooyoung, I´m just taking a cold shower.”

“OK, go cool yourself off, princess. I´ll wait for you here,” He informed, unlocking his phone once again and showing you his screen where his game was loading.

“Yeah, ok. Suit yourself.”

“You really should let me listen as payback for getting me horny,” He screamed once you were already down the hallway.

“You got yourself horny,” You screamed back before shutting the bathroom door behind yourself.

You silently screamed against your hands as you let your body slide down the door.

What the hell just happened? How many lines did you just cross?

Why was Wooyoung suddenly so hot?

And so, a cold shower you took and thankfully, after you left the bathroom, no one talked about the subject for the rest of the night and just pretended that nothing had happened.

Except that now you were miserable and your mind echoed Wooyoung´s words every time you looked or thought about him. It was not optimal to be crossing your legs in the middle of class at university because you accidentally caught yourself staring at your friend´s veiny arms for half of the lecture.

★

“You´re still horny,” Wooyoung stated a few days later when you were literally getting ice cream after class.

“And I´m actually mortified that you noticed.”

“You´re being stubborn.”

“We´re not fucking, Wooyoung.”

“Dude, at this point I am genuinely feeling bad for you. We can ask Mingi or whoever, just please get some dick.”

“You´re being kind of sexist-”

“Y/N, you look constipated. I am worried for your sanity.”

“Just shut up before I stop talking to you.”

“I can use a blindfold or something if you´re worried about me seeing you naked-”

“You´d like that, wouldn´t you? Submissive bitch.”

“Don´t degrade me unless you mean it,” He winked at you.

“You are actually insufferable.”

“I´m just trying to help.”

“You can´t because you don´t understand that this isn´t just about getting some dick!”

“So what is this about? You tense every time my hands get near you -”

“Wooyoung, this is an ice cream parlor. There are kids around, just shut the fuck up.”

“So let´s go to my place.”

“I´m not getting inside any closed spaces with you unless there are more people around.”

“Kinky.”

“Oh my god, you know what I mean.”

“I know, just let me tease you. Ok, but seriously now, I think that in order for me to do my duties as a best friend, I need to understand what´s going on.”

“Since when do you care about your best friend duties? You once left me behind alone at a party to get fucked by Yeonjun or whatever you two-”

“Allegedly.”

“No, Wooyoung. Not allegedly, it was literally me that you dragged to a corner to inform you´d be going upstairs with Yeonjun-”

“No one knows what happened in that room.”

“Yeah, thank god.”

“Ok, whatever. Let me help you, tell me what´s going on inside that little messed up brain of yours.”

“Nop. I really would rather lock myself inside the industrial freezer in the back.”

“Yeah? Then I´m texting Mingi to go to your place and give you the fuck of your life tonight-”

“Wooyoung!”

“Y/N!”

“Just drop it.”

“No! Do you actually miss Mingyu? Or dating? Do you want a boyfriend? Is that it?”

“No,” You groaned, hitting your forehead against the table.

“So?”

“Just- I need alcohol if we´re going to talk about this.”

“Ok, let´s go to-”

“Wooyoung, it´s 2 in the afternoon.”

And so, he let it go for the moment, but the next time he saw a single drop of alcohol near you, he sat down next to you and crossed his hands like he meant business, a pointed look on his face.

★

“So?”

“This is literally my first shot.”

“Then take it.”

“Fine,” You begrudgingly complied, and you hadn´t even placed your glass back down before Wooyoung was already pouring you more. Figuring you weren´t going to escape this conversation, you downed your second shot and sighed in defeat.

“Now tell me why you aren´t getting your back blown out at this very moment.”

“It´s really weird talking about sex with you.”

“We talk about sex all the time.”

“Yeah, about other people, not about me, or about you suddenly being willing to fuck me- “

“Not suddenly.”

“Yeah, whatever. Pour me some more.”

“That´s what I like to hear,” He smirked at you, eyes glinting as he filled your glass up.

“Y/N looks miserable,” Mingi suddenly stated, dropping his body next to you on the couch coming from seemingly nowhere.

“Doesn´t she?” Wooyoung agreed, giving you a pointed look as you punched Mingi for the out-of-pocket comment.

“Where did you even come from?” You asked the tall man next to you, excited for a change of topic.

“The kitchen,” He absentmindedly answered you, hand busy filling up the glasses in front of you before handing you one. “Take a shot with me.”

And so you did, hissing at the burning sensation and taking deep breaths to not gag at the taste of tequila.

“OK, why does it look like your house burned down?” The man turned his attention back to you after smashing the empty glass on the little center table in front of you.

Damn it, Mingi.

You didn´t even have the time to begin forming any kind of excuses before Wooyoung answered for you in a heartbeat, “Little Y/N over here is horny.”

“Jung Wooyoung!” You gasped at his choice of words, thorn between hiding behind your hands, punching the man and apologizing to Mingi.

Mingi, in turn, was frozen in shock mid pouring himself another shot. And you meant that the man wasn´t even blinking, mouth open and hands stuck in the air holding the glass bottle which you took from him afraid he would break it.

“See what you´ve done?” You sighed to Wooyoung, elbowing his ribs as you tried waving your hand in front of Mingi´s face for a reaction.

“Wait, what?” Said man came back to life, his voice way higher than what you´re used to.

“You heard it, man. She hasn´t been fucked right in ages-”

“Wooyoung, you know what you said about wanting to keep up with your best friend´s duties?” You asked between gritted teeth, about ready to jump the man and rip all of his hair out. “This is really not it.”

“But you´re hot!” Mingi seemed confused.

“I told her that!” Wooyoung ignored you. “I even told her you´d volunteer to help her out-”

“I so would-”

“Shut the fuck up, you two! Wooyoung, I´m about a second away from blocking you on my phone and never seeing you again,” You were also as close to ripping your own hair out. “Yes I´m horny, the whole world doesn´t need to hear about it.”

Mingi noticed the crazy look behind your eyes and rubbed your back in comfort, he too knew what Wooyoung could do to people when he decided to be annoying.

“It´s ok, love. We´ve all been there,” Mingi assured you and his words did soothe you a bit.

“It´s just – You guys don´t get it. It´s not about just sex. I know I could literally fuck anyone at this party if I wanted to, I´m not dense. I guess I just miss dating but I don´t really want to date anyone at the moment?”

“So like a friends with benefits thing?” Wooyoung pressed.

“No, that´s just fucking with a fancy title. I mean like, I miss being touched and hugged and pampered and – I don´t know.”

“Every time I try to hug you, you freeze and glare at me!” Mingi pouted.

“I´m just not a touchy person!”

“I know! That´s why I´m not understanding what you want.”

“Just forget it-”

“I get it,” Wooyoung interrupted.

“Do you?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

“You want a boyfriend without the obligations and feelings involved with a relationship. I was right, you´re needy.”

“Oh,” Apparently it made sense to Mingi too.

“Ok, and with that, I excuse myself,” You say, already standing up to go find someone else to hang out with because you were definitely not ready for the rest of that conversation.

★

“What are you doing here?” You asked in annoyance after opening the door to your place to a very content looking Wooyoung.

"I came to be your boyfriend-not-boyfriend,” He smiled proudly.

"We're not fucking, Wooyoung,” You managed to sigh and roll your eyes at the same time. "Which is exactly what I told you the other 50 times you suggested it."

"Who said anything about fucking? I'm just here to force the touch-deprivation out of you. Now move, I brought snacks," He said as if he hadn't already pushed you out of the way about midway through his sentence.

You sighed in defeat, accepting your peaceful quiet night was ruined - You hadn't even locked the door yet and Wooyoung was already sprawled on your couch organizing the snacks on your coffee table, making way more noise than necessary.

"At least you brought my favorite," You noticed, arms crossed as you stood up next to the couch.

"These are all your favorites," His eyes were even shining with the amount of pride he had for himself.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"You called Seonghwa, didn't you?"

"Only about the chips."

"Knew it."

"It's not my fault you literally change your opinions every day."

"Welcome to girlhood."

"Now sit down and I'll put something on Netflix."

"Wooyoung, why-"

"Y/N, listen," It was his turn to sigh. "You helped me through a lot when everything happened with my grandpa and you were always there for me when shit went down, just let me help you this once however I can."

"Ok, got it. Enough with the sentimental talk," You quickly obeyed. You didn't like serious Wooyoung.

"Now, are we feeling Criminal Minds?" He asked once you were sitting next to him, remote in hand.

"Sounds great."

“Perfect,” Wooyoung agreed as he put on the show, quickly standing up to turn off the lights before sitting back down and opening his arms. “Come here.”

“Uh, I would rather not.”

“I don´t care, we´re doing this.”

“I don´t think forcing me to cuddle you will help much-”

“Do you want me to really force you? Because I can,” He raised his eyebrow at you, arms still hanging in the air.

“I´m pretty sure I´m stronger than you-”

“Oh my god, just shut up,” He groaned and rolled his eyes at the same time, bending his body forward so he could grab onto your waist and pull you against his chest.

Ok, yeah. He was definitely stronger than you.

“Can you not make it so difficult?” He asked once he noticed how stiff you were in between his legs. “Stretch your legs, relax.”

You decided against reminding him that he was in fact forcing you to do this and obeyed, he was just trying to help after all and maybe he did have a point: Some human touch might help calm your mind down. Also, the quicker you played along, the sooner it would be over. So, stretching your legs across the couch you did, letting your body relax against Wooyoung´s, who contently wrapped his arms around you as you both turned your attention towards the Tv.

Well, that lasted for about 10 minutes before you started feeling the heat of your friend´s skin radiating and everything started making sense: Being held by someone you loved really was comforting. Huh, who would have guessed?

You generally hated being touched by people but right now you kind of felt like a cat, wanting to rub your head on Wooyoung´s shirt and snuggle into his warmth.

“Can I play with your hair or will you bite my hand of?”

“You can try,” You answered, not wanting to admit he was right all along and that you would very much like more of whatever this was.

You could practically feel the roll of his eyes at your threatening tone as he pulled your head like you were just one big barbie doll, so your right cheek would be rested against his chest, turning your body to the side so now your right shoulder kind of met his chest instead of your back.

“Ouch, you could be gentler,” You complained, rubbing your forehead skin where his palm was planted seconds before.

“When you deserve it,” He grunted, eyes fixed on the Tv.

“That was not very let me help you of you.”

It was easy to tell he bit back his comeback, simply taking a deep calming breath and burying his fingers in the hair behind your neck, gently rubbing the area – Maybe you would purr. Judging you now had the upper hand, you decided to in return wrap your own arms around his wait so you could get comfortable and Wooyoung gave you a cocky victory smile.

Damn it.

The two of you went through the entire episode like that and you were so relaxed that when Wooyoung stood up to open the snacks and grab some wine, you didn´t even complain about how that was a bad idea, sharing some glasses while you watched the second and third episodes and he tossed you around into every cuddling position you never even knew existed, discussing who you though were the killers and all the little gossips of the week.

“You could create like a cuddling Kama Sutra,” You joked, kind of dizzy because of the drink – or because you had an incredibly attractive man holding you for the past 2 hours or so.

“Will you quit complaining about my touchy personality now?” He smiled.

“Nah, this was a one-time thing.”

“Are you at least feeling a bit better?” Wooyoung asked, adjusting himself on the couch to look at you since you were now sitting side to side after the last episode ended.

“Yes, actually.”

It was true, you were no longer feeling like you could rip your entire skin off if you went through another second of someone not touching you.

“I have one last move prepared,” He informed excitedly.

“We´re not fucki-”

“Oh my god, will you quit it with the fucking thing? If you keep bringing It up I might start thinking you´re interested-”

“What was the idea?” You quickly asked, trying to cut the flirting off before it could lead your brain somewhere you spent the entire night not wanting to go.

“Let me give you a massage.”

“Wow, you´re really invested in this helping me thing.”

“Contrary to your big mouth, I am a good friend. Sit down right here,” Wooyoung ordered, opening his legs and pointing to the space on the floor in between his feet. “Tonight I´ll take the neediness out of you the best I can since you refuse to go out and get some dick.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored his remark, sitting down where he showed you and waiting silently as he gently gathered your hair and moved it out of the way. You cursed at how your skin erupted in goosebumps as his fingertips brushed against the side of your neck, your breath suddenly caught in your chest.

You followed the realization that this was probably a horrible idea with another glass of wine, thankful he couldn't feel your heart beating fast.

Wooyoung worked his thumbs in circles, digging them between your scapulae and pressing them up until they reached your shoulders, which he squeezed in the perfect strength to get shivers running up your spine every minute as he repeated the motion over and over.

“How are you so good at this?” You whined, hating how your body was reaction to the touches.

“There´s really nothing I´m not good at.”

“Humbleness,” You offered.

“That was a cliché answer, you can do better than that.”

“I don´t care, just please never stop.”

“I get that a lot.”

“Do you really need to make everything sexual?”

“I´ve always been that way, it´s not my fault that now that you´re horny it´s bothering you.”

You hated when he put it like that, because yes.

And maybe the way he sometimes would squeeze your neck during the massage or just the fact that he was touching you, were getting you feeling some type of way you would rather he did not notice.

“If you were a girl, you´d understand,” You groaned. “Ovulation sucks.”

“You actually just gave yourself the perfect solution, why don´t you fuck a girl?”

´Cause what I really want is fucking you.

Oh, wow.

Where did that come from?

“Speaking of which, do you even know how to?” You ask, admittedly kind of shy of asking such question.

“Know how to what?”

“Like, have- you like- With women?” You try, motioning widely towards the couch with your hands as if it would help you get your point across so you wouldn´t have to say the words.

Wooyoung seemed to get it though, hands suddenly stopping on your back so you would look at him, “Y/N, you do know I have fucked women, right?”

“How would I? You never told me!” You whine.

“I thought it would be disrespectful?”

“But when you told me how much you loved choking on San´s dick it wasn´t?”

“Well, no-”

“Or when you literally shared about how you thought about your fingers inside of me?”

“You asked for it!”

“I don´t believe you,” You narrowed your eyes towards him. “There´s no way I wouldn´t have known.”

“Do you want like a list or something?”

“What? No! That would be disrespectful.”

“See?”

“Ok, no, wait. Just tell me this: Lauren?”

“Yes.”

“Wooyoung, nooooo!” You whined.

“What? She´s hot!” He was exasperated.

“Oh my god, everything makes so much sense now.”

“Wait, did you really think I was gay? We´ve know each other for years! I talk about women all the time!”

“Yeah, but I thought you talked about women like Kevin talks about Beyoncé! Like in a slayy pussy queennn way, not in a I´d want to fuck her way.”

“Would you like me to go around harassing women?”

“No, listen: I didn´t think you were gay, I just kind of never thought about it?”

"You though I was just joking around with you the other day and you still got all hot and bothered?" Would he quit teasing you? "Kinky."

“I thought you were playing and I didn't get any way!"

“Whatever you say, princess - Wait, why did you think Ali was always hanging around my neck all these months?”

“I just thought she was kind of crazy – Wait, did you fuck her that good? She wouldn´t leave us alone for a second, it was driving me insane."

“I just told you there´s nothing I´m not good at,” He winked at you with a cocky smile on his face.

You wanted to die.

“Wooyoung,” You warned.

“Awn, am I getting to you?” His tone was so sarcastic and condescending that a fire burned inside of you that you were afraid was never going out.

“It´s the wine,” You assured, more yourself than him.

“It´s always something.”

“See? That´s why I told you I didn´t want to be alone with you.”

“Afraid you´ll jump me?” He mocked. “I´m not scared.”

"Just shut up. If whatever you're saying is true, I just want you to know you have the worst taste in women ever."

"Well, considering I would love to taste you more than I would anyone else, I agree," He played with your words.

“Go wash the glasses,” You ordered, the skin under your cheeks burning.

“Yes, ma’am,” He answered with a laugh, immediately standing up and following along.

When you were alone in the living room, your face fell between your hands in despair.

You fucking hated Jung Wooyoung and his fucking giant noise.

★

Stupid fucking Jung Wooyoung.

Fucking hell.

Cursed be the day that man was born and cursed be the hospital and the doctors and the nurses and everyone in the world for all you cared.

Your entire body was filled with rage as you opened the stupid coffee maker to pour the water into the compartment – which you had of course forgotten to fill 10 minutes earlier and almost burnt the whole office down. How would you explain to your boss that you started a fire because your brain was simply too busy flashing images of you sitting on your stupid annoying best friend´s face for the past 4 hours?

It has been 2 days since the day at your place, 2 nights since you've gotten a decent night of sleep. "Why is that?" One would ask. Well, the answer would be that your useless brain decided to sabotage you, having you dream about your best friend over and over again – Which wouldn't be so bad if 90% of the dreams didn't consist of you ridding said best friend's face, waking up sweating and wanting to scream.

At this point you just wanted to break Wooyoung's nose with a punch, so you'd never have to think about it again. After almost ripping your hair out in front of your computer, you decided on texting Hoshi for Mingyu's number - That's how desperate you were to get stupid fucking Jung Wooyoung out of your head. At least your friend assured that your ex was indeed single now and still didn't hate you, which was enough for you.

Not really knowing how to tell your ex-boyfriend, after so much time has passed, that you just wanted him to throw you around, things weren't going as fast as planned and you couldn't keep avoiding Wooyoung forever – One, because he has no sense of boundaries and would just show up at your place if you ignored him and two, you really didn't want to have the conversation that would go down when he found out why you weren't around.

It'd been over a week since you last saw Wooyoung in person, you were still in the talking stages with Mingyu, dreaming about your friend every fucking night and staring at his picture on the chatting app for hours while wanting to die. Now, you kind of genuinely didn't care anymore, Mingi and Wooyoung were right, maybe this was just about getting some dick – and you would find out if one could die of horniness if you didn't get some soon.

It was Saturday night, Hongjoong decided to throw a small party at his place to celebrate his birthday and you figured alcohol was a good solution since stabbing a knife into your brain wasn't an option. You even invited Mingyu, hoping in person and after a few drinks you'd figure how to ask him to bend you over – The man said he would be pretty late because of previous scheduled commitments but that he would go. Your ex was an incredibly attractive man who knew his way around a lady, maybe you would see all your problems flying away after tonight.

Except that after your first cup and some chatting with Mingi and Seonghwa on Hongjoong's couch, Wooyoung decided to arrive.

You took one (1) - ONE, UNO - look at the man and grabbed your phone, shooting Mingyu a text: don´t come, party´s canceled.

“Bro, your hair looks sick!” Mingi shouted before your brain could even begin to process what you were seeing.

You were the one actually about to be sick.

“Decided to try something new,” Wooyoung smirked, jumping over the back of the couch to sit next to you.

You simply stared at him dumbfounded, glad he was too busy stealing the drink from your hands to notice your mouth wide open.

Jung Wooyoung just showed up to the party with the bottom part and the front strands of his hair dyed blonde and you weren´t sure what kind of look that even was but you felt like it genuinely changed your whole life. You were pretty sure you got goosebumps when you first looked at him, lucky you were sitting down with the way your legs got weak.

“What do you think about it?” He asked you after he was content with finishing what was left in your cup.

“I hate it.”

Well, you weren´t lying. Your nails were literally digging into the palm of your hands to try and get your head back in place - The new look made his skin look tanner, the mole under his eye darker, the shape of his nose -

The way he pushed his hair back, blonde strands surrounding his face -

No, nop.

No.

“Since I know you´re joking, I´m gonna go say hi to Hongjoong and grab us more drinks so we can get this party started.”

You let him go with absolutely no fight, eyes wide and glued to his form until he was out of your sight as Seonghwa led him to where the birthday boy was supposed to be.

“Are you ok?” Mingi asked, noticing the crazy look on your face.

“I need Wooyoung to fuck me.”

Your brain definitely was short-circuiting.

“Oh. Wow. Ok.”

“I´m being serious. And I´m not happy about it.”

“Hasn´t he been offering for like weeks now?”

“Yeah.”

“So just go and tell him.”

“That´s not how it works.”

“Oh my god, why do you have to be so complicated?”

“I need him to offer again so I can say no, then when he insists, I will give in and pretend I´m kind of thorn about it.”

“And why is that?”

“So he doesn´t know he won! And I don´t like being vulnerable or whatever.”

“I know we said you need some dick, but maybe you just need some therapy.”

“Yeah, that too, but what I really need right now is your help.”

“Sure,” Mingi shrugged. That´s what you liked about him, things were simple with him.

“I need him to think I´m horny.”

“You are horny.”

“Yeah, but I need him to see it so he will joke about helping me out again.”

“And how are you going to do that?”

“Well, I could stand here with a bitch face all night, but it´s Joong´s birthday so I don´t really want to be like that. I don´t really have any other ideas-”

“Touch me.”

“What?”

“Like, be touchy with me.”

“Oh, that could work.”

“That will definitely work.”

“You´re good,” You complimented.

“You should come to me for help more often.”

“Don´t push it.”

“Fine.”

“You´re invested, huh?”

“Move closer,” He ordered and you obeyed, sitting sideways on the couch so you were turned towards him, left knee touching his thigh. “Lean forward and put your hand on my thigh.”

Despite your body´s discontent, you did as told.

“And don´t flinch when I touch you,” He warned.

“I feel like a spy,” You joked.

“All this because you can´t tell a guy you want to fuck,” He rolled his eyes.

“C´mon, pretend you´re not enjoying this, I dare you.”

“Touché.”

When your friends came back with more people tagging along, the first thing you noticed was the way Wooyoung´s gaze traveled immediately to your hand on Mingi´s thighs.

Ok, yeah, this could definitely work.

“Here, princess,” He handed you your drink, which you grabbed with your free hand.

“Thanks Wooyo,” You smiled at the man before turning your attention back to Mingi, not missing the way your friend squeezed his eyes at you.

Thankfully, Wooyoung didn´t say anything about it, sitting down on the floor in front of the couch as a circle naturally formed in the living room so everyone could play something, and the first choice was the 007 game. You went along with the plan, hitting Mingi´s thigh instead of your own, touching his arm when you had to laugh, not going stiff when his hand met the skin almost at the hem of your skirt.

You know what? Mingi was actually really hot too, if this night didn´t end how you expected it to, you were so horny you were just about considering asking him to fuck you.

Whenever you looked in Wooyoung´s direction, you could practically see the engines turning in his head. It was just a matter of time now and you were already feeling shaky with excitement, which you weren´t exactly thrilled about – But then you looked at him again with that stupid hair and that stupid nose and that stupid half-unbuttoned shirt and decided that to hell with your morals and ethics.

Mingi apparently decided his role in the ploy wasn´t enough for him, since after an hour or so passed by and people started standing up to go after more drinks or socialize with other people, he waited for Wooyoung to approach before asking loud and clear, “So, any luck with the getting some dick thing?”

You were not exactly a good actress but you did know how to flirt, so not really knowing how else to react to the sudden improvisation, you smiled at him, “Why? Know someone interested?”

“Yeah, nice to meet you. I´m Song Mingi,” He half-joked, hand still heavy on your thigh. “Oh, Wooyoung. You´re here, didn´t see you there.”

He was good, you had to give him that.

“I can see why,” Wooyoung answered, eyes pointing at the contact between you two.

“Jealous?” Mingi asked his friend, his tone was humorous, but you could see the challenge in his eyes. Even though he was just playing, he couldn´t help being an egotistical Leo.

“I wouldn´t say jealous is the right word.”

“Did you know Y/N invited Mingyu over?” Mingi laughed.

Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at you, eyes dancing with amusement.

“I already uninvited him, asshole.”

“Is that why you´re all touchy today?” Mingi asked. Ok, you would have to buy him some ice cream after the phenomenal performance he was delivering. “Thought you would convince her to fuck someone, Woo.”

“Believe me, I tried,” He shrugged.

“Can we quit talking about me like I´m not here? Also, I´m not an animal in heat, stop being weird.”

Well, weren´t you?

Really?

“You sure seem like it,” Wooyoung completed.

“You look hornier than me, Wooyoung.”

“I´m not denying it,” He stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh shit, I forgot my phone with Yunho,” Mingi cursed, suddenly petting his pockets. He was so convincing you almost forgot he was helping you out. “Shit, shit, shit. I´ll be back later.”

With that he stood up and quickly marched out of the living room, Wooyoung lazily taking his place next to you on the couch.

“Were you really about to let Mingi fuck you?”

“Maybe?” You answer, and well, that wasn´t a lie either.

“Ouch, that kind of hurts my ego.”

“Mingi and I are just friends, now you and I are best friends. There´s a huge difference there.”

“So, you´re saying you´d fuck me if we weren´t best friends?” He joked. “Wow, thank you. I´m shy now. No need for all these compliments.”

You rolled your eyes, not sure what to say that would lead you towards what you wanted, choosing to just be normal and hope the night would eventually get you there.

“Why did you cancel on Mingyu?”

“Didn´t think he would throw me around today.”

“Someone´s getting bold.”

“Shut up.”

“I actually like frustrated Y/N, it´s hot.”

“Then stop bothering me to fuck someone and let me be frustrated in peace.”

“Well, that seems nice but I´m sure you´d look much hotter getting the frustration out.”

“Are we back to the “you imagining someone fucking me” thing?”

“I could correct you once again saying that I´m not imagining someone else, but since you´ve made it pretty clear that you´re not interested, I´m not going to.”

That was it, that was your moment.

“And what if I tell you maybe I am?”

He stopped to give you a knowing cocky smirk that made you immediately regret raising the white flag, “I know.”

“What? Ho- No -”

“Y/N, you wouldn´t stop staring at me like you wanted me to destroy you in front of everyone while Mingi literally had his hand on you.”

“That´s not -”

“Do I have to pretend I think you were squirming because of him and not me? I can play dumb if you´d like. I can even go call him back if you tell me you weren´t wishing it was my hand almost getting under your skirt instead of his. So, are you going to give in now or are we going to keep playing this game?”

“Wooyoung-”

“We´re best friends, I know. But I don´t see how you avoiding me because you get wet every time I´m around is doing our friendship any favors either.”

Ok, he did make a pretty good case even though you were already convinced like an hour ago.

“You´re right.”

“I know.”

“So?”

“I´m not fucking you at Hongjoong´s.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded – also not liking how the tables have turned one bit. Wooyoung in turn laughed and sent you another playful wink, “Trust me, you won´t want anyone around.”

“It took a lot from me to come to terms with this, so we´re either doing it tonight or we´re not doing it.”

“Oh, princess,” He gave you a condescending look that got you wanting to rip his hair out. “I find that hard to believe, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”

“Wooyoung-”

“Y/n,” His voice was calm, hand finding its place on your thigh where Mingi´s was earlier, except this time the touch burned and got you fighting for your life not to squirm. “I said I´m not fucking you at Hongjoong´s, not that I´m not fucking you.”

“Then let´s go.”

“Now, that would be rude, wouldn´t it?”

“Why are being like this?” You whined, about a second away from actually hitting the cockiness out of him.

“You have this needy look in your eyes, like you´re ready to drop down and beg at any moment,” He smiled, his free hand gently tucking your hair behind your ear like he wasn´t talking about you on your knees. “It´s cute.”

“You know what will be cute? When I ask Mingi to fuck me instead.”

“If you can go to Hongjoong, in front of everyone, and tell him that we need to leave his birthday party right now because you can´t wait for me to fuck you, I´m good to go.”

“Have you always been this annoying?”

“Only when I know you´ll like it.”

“You know you were the one asking to fuck me for weeks, right?”

“I know.”��

“You just know everything, don´t you?”

“See? You´re hot when you´re frustrated.”

“You think I´m sexually frustrated but now I´m actually just mad at you.” He simply smiled at you in return, and you rolled your eyes once you realized where you had dug your grave, “I forgot you have a degradation kink or whatever. Can´t even be angry at you in peace anymore.”

“If you´re really mad at me, we should fix that. I wouldn´t want my best friend to be angry at me.”

“I don´t think it´s possible to fix it considering being annoying it´s like your whole personality. Point proven.”

“Come say that closer,” He winked playfully, and you seriously would cringe at the number of times that man has winked at you if he wasn´t Wooyoung.

Ok, coming completely clean: You were also kind of annoyed at the way you were definitely getting wet at the banter between the two of you, like teasing each other wasn´t what your whole friendship has been about for years.

It also helped that Wooyoung´s hand was still on your thigh, veins sticking out and fingers filled with rings that you just couldn´t stop picturing against the skin on your neck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

It took a second to decide if you would actually listen to that one braincell fighting for its life inside your head or not, but in the end, you decided against it, quickly standing up so you could sit on Wooyoung´s lap and take him by surprise as you straddled his thighs, one of your knees on each side of legs.

Yeah, there was definitely something pulsing in between your legs. Fucking hell.

You moved too quicky for Wooyoung to process what was going on, so it really was amusing the way he violently jerked once you moved your head closer, lips almost brushing his ears as you whispered, “What do you want me to say?”

For a second you had almost forgotten it was Jung Wooyoung under you, but he was fast to remind you as one of his hands found its place on the side of your thigh and the other grabbed onto your waist, where his thumb brushed gentle circles against your exposed skin. He took advantage of the fact you were already bent down to say against your ear this time, “You never told me.”

“What?” You asked, creating some distance between you so you could look at the smirk on his face and because you didn´t quite like the way you got weak when you felt his breath against your skin so closely.

“The other day, we made a deal. You said you would tell me what you imagined me doing to you if I told you first, but you ran away after I completed my part. You owe me.”

Under regular circumstances you would have stood up and left right then and there, but the way his palms met the front part of your thighs and started rubbing them up and down, a bit higher each time, got you wanting to play his game to see where it would end.

“You´re right. That day was the first time I ever thought about you sexually, and you know what triggered it?”

“What?” He smiled at the way goosebumps erupted all over your skin under his touches.

“Your nose.”

“So you like my nose?”

“And your lips, but mostly your nose.”

"And what about my lips and nose?"

"Was just thinking about how good they'd feel under me," You look into his eyes, centimeters away from yours, thankful that Hongjoong had deemed the lights at some point of the night and now Wooyoung's face was illuminated only by a pink hue, coming from a fake sunset light your friend had bought on AliExpress.

"That's good, ‘cause I've never wanted someone to sit on my face so bad before."

“Careful,” You warned, inching your face closer to his, toying with the buttons on his shirt as your lips were almost brushing. “We still need to go back to being friends after we fuck and get this off our systems.”

"I’m sure we can manage," He smiled, inching closer himself so now your lips were indeed touching as he continued speaking. "I'm a good friend after all."

"Kiss me then, I dare you," You breathed out, shooting your last shot.

He laughed at that, "You know I never back down from a challenge."

But well, it worked.

Wooyoung made his words true, grabbing onto your waist with a firmness that you didn't know he had to pull you closer. With your chests now glued, his lips finally pressed against yours and you hated yourself for not being disappointed. You so wanted the man to be all bark and no bite, but the moment his tongue met yours you understood why that girl wouldn't leave him alone. You had indeed kissed many people before, but it had never felt like this - and also, you were right, his plush lips were definitely something to obsess over.

What didn't surprise you at all, was that like in everything else, Wooyoung was a tease. In some moments when you would deepen the kiss, he would pull back a bit and bite on your bottom lip just to laugh when you groaned in annoyance. When he felt you were getting frustrated at his little games, he would grab onto your hips and grind them against his – which well, definitely got your mind to stop thinking about how insufferable he was. Good thing you knew how to play too, hands finding the roots of his hair to pull harshly on it, almost passing out at the whine he let out.

"I love that you're wearing a skirt," He groaned out.

"Why is that?" You were so breathless you almost got embarrassed.

"I can feel how wet you are."

Fuck.

"You must be imagining things."

"Oh, am I?" The cunning smile he gave you along with those words should have prepared you.

It really shouldn't have surprised you when one of his hands left your ass and snaked its way in between your bodies. You leaned back a little to try and understand what was happening, giving Wooyoung all the access he needed to get his hand under your skirt and press the pad of his middle finger right on your clit over your panties.

"Told ya," He smirked in content at the way you gasped involuntarily.

"Wooyoung-"

"What? Weren't you the one who couldn't wait?" He teased, rubbing slow circles with his finger. "If you're already soaked like this, I can't even imagine what it would be like if I just pushed your panties to the side-"

"No-" You whined, thorn between just letting him do whatever he wanted or stopping him - since you were very much in the middle of your friend's living room and there were people around.

"Getting shy now?"

“Wooyoung.”

“That´s my name,” You could see in his eyes how much fun he was having teasing you.

“You want me to stop teasing or stop touching you?” He mocked with a smile on his face, finger still working on you as you fought with all your life to not squirm on his lap.

“You know what? If you want everyone to see, I can put on a show,” You sighed, accepting defeat.

You expected Wooyoung to smirk once again but was instead surprised when he stopped and retreated his hand, adjusting your skirt back in place. Your heart dropped at the sight, searching for answers in his eyes, but they were busy looking somewhere else: Mingi had gotten back. You could see the way the tall man was frozen at the entrance, eyes wide and hand once again stuck in the air – this time holding his phone proudly.

You sent a glare at the intruder (as if there were not at least 10 other people in the room). The moment Mingi´s eyes caught yours, he jumped as if he had just woken up from a nap and he tried mouthing something like “sorry” and “oh shit” so you just rolled your eyes and motioned with your hand for him to move along, preferably far away. He seemed to get the message, almost tripping with how fast he spun on his heels and left.

“What? Weren´t you the one who wanted everyone to know?” You asked Wooyoung, tone pointy as you climbed off his lap. It was like someone had thrown a bucket of cold water over you. THIS WAS JUNG WOOYOUNG.

YOUR BEST FRIEND JUNG WOOYOUNG.

THE GUY WHO MADE YOU DRESS LIKE A CHEERLEADER TO GO TO HIS COLLEGE SOCCER GAMES AND CHEER FOR HIM, THE GUY WHO BURPED AND LAUGHED AT HIS OWN DISGUSTINESS, THE GUY WHO DID A CRISTIANO RONALDO IMPRESSION EVERYTIME HE WON SOMETHING, THE GUY YOU HAD TO ONCE RESCUE FROM A PIG FARM AFTER DRINKING WAY TOO MUCH!

“Yeah, but I guess my protective best friend side spoke louder,” He sighed too, fixing his pants. “Don´t be mad.”

“I´m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Yes, I´m mad. Ok? Cause now the magic is over or whatever and I realized you´re my best friend and we can´t fuck.”

He turned around on the couch to be able to look into your eyes, his searching. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he simply closed his eyes, sighed once again and stood up, offering his hand, “C´mon. Let me take you home.”

★

“So, Mingyu huh?” Wooyoung asked, one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear.

“Don´t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Ask about another man and pretend everything´s normal.”

“Well, I guessed that now that we can´t fuck we can go back to being normal best friends.”

You locked your jaw and crossed your arms. You were angry and you didn´t even know what for – But you expected Wooyoung to fix it, nonetheless.

“Use your words.”

“No.”

“Ok, then. Silent ride it is.”

You huffed; aware you were acting like a spoiled child, but you were just angry at the mess inside your head and that your friend was not able to read your mind and untangle everything so it made sense. Maybe you really were just spoiled and angry you didn´t get what you wanted when you wanted.

“Oh. I get it now.”

“What?” Wooyoung asked, eyes moving from the road for a second to look at you.

“When you call me a brat. I get it now.”

“I was searching my brain for plausible reasons for you to be all sulky, for you to admit you were mad just because I didn´t fuck you at the party?”

“Yeah? Not just that, but you know I don´t like when things don´t go my way, I just wanted everything to happen fast so I wouldn´t have time to think about it but then when I thought about it, I felt bad because I still wanted it to happen but I know it shouldn´t.”

“Y/N, it´s sex.”

“Don´t make me sound stupid.”

“I´m not, you´re just really overthinking this.”

“Yeah, that´s the whole point. And it´s all your fault, so you see why I´m mad now?”

“Yes. I´m the worst.”

“You are.”

“Not when I fuck you, thought.”

“The moment has passed, Wooyoung. The train has left the station. Deal with it.”

“If you say so. Are you opening the garage, or should I park outside?”

“I didn´t bring the tag – Wait, are you going up?”

“Street it is then.”

“Answer me, stupid.”

“Yes, I´m going up.”

“What for?”

“You said it yourself, if we´re best friends and nothing more is ever happening, there should be no problem with me sleeping over, right? We´ve done it thousands of times.”

“Yeah,” You squeezed your eyes at him. You knew what game he was playing, trying to prove you wrong – But you were also convinced you were more stubborn than him and that you would instead prove him wrong.

“Slumber party, fun!” He exclaimed, taking the key out and tapping your thigh before leaving his car.

★

“Since this was kind of last minute,” You heard Wooyoung´s voice approaching your room, “I didn´t really bring any clothes.”

And there he was, next to your bed in nothing but a towel around his hips, long messy hair slightly dripping down his torso and toothbrush in his mouth, looking all casual like you both knew he wasn´t doing this on purpose.

The fact that it was working only made you even more annoyed.

“You know where the drawer with your stuff is,” You groaned, pretending to look at your nails.

He looked way too smug as he turned to your closet, opening said drawer to pull out some sweatpants. You kind of expected (or is it hoped the right word?) that he would just unknot the towel and expose himself to try and seduce you, but he behaved and simply pulled the pants under the fabric before unwrapping it.

“Have you not heard about underwear?”

“Have you not heard that it´s healthier to sleep without it? You should hang out with me more, I can teach you a lot.”

“Yeah, I already see you enough, thanks.”

“Come dry my hair.”

“I think you´re perfectly capable of doing that yourself.”

“Yeah, but I like when you do it.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, pushing the blanket out of you, “Fine.”

Wooyoung walked to the bathroom in front of you, surely having planned the way his back and arms looked from behind. You had seen him without a shirt hundreds of times already, why did you feel like you wanted to jump him now?!!?!?!? You figured you were over it after coming back to your senses but oh boy, were you wrong.

“Has San been dragging you to the gym?” You asked as he bent over to get the hair dryer from the bottom drawer. You figured making small talk and acting normally would keep your brain busy.

“Yeah. And you would know that if you opened the hundreds of snaps I send you every day.”

“I´m not 14, Wooyoung. Snapchat died in 2015, sorry to inform you,” You joked as you plugged the dryer he handed you. “Give me the towel.”

He did as told, sitting down on your toilet as you started drying the water excess from his hair. Doing your best so no part of your arm or leg would accidentally touch his skin since you could feel the heat emanating from it.

That was no way of living.

Once the towel was completely damp, you tossed it on the floor and grabbed a brush, ignoring how he closed his eyes in appreciation at the touch. You fucking hated him and the way your heart was beating fast for absolutely no reason.

Now untangled, you reached over to get the hair dryer once again but were stopped with a soft touch to the side of your leg.

You looked down at the man expecting an answer and he simply gave you a lazy smile, gently grabbing your wrist and pulling you in between his legs, “Come here. Let me look at you while you do it.”

Well, you let him pull you along because there was nothing really sexual about it, Wooyoung was just a touchy person and he looked like he was about to fall asleep anyways.

You turned on the dryer and used your fingers to move his hair around so the heat would get to his roots, feeling the skin of your face heat up at the way he hummed in content. Wooyoung had a lot of hair, and not just that, but he had a lot of thick hair, so you were already aware you would spend a long time in there, appreciating the silence and the fact he was pretty much out of it so you could let your guard down.

WHICH IS EXACTLY WHY you jumped in surprise when both of his hands found their way to the side of your thighs, just very softly rubbing them up and down as you dried his strands, goosebumps erupting all over your body at the delicate touch.

Once again, just sleepy touchy Wooyoung.

Nothing new, nothing to fuss over.

Except YOU WERE FUSSING OVER IT BECAUSE ONCE AGAIN YOU FELT A PULSE WHERE YOU DIDN´T WANT TO FEEL A PULSE.

This whole situation was just so domestic and nice that it scratched a very specific part of your brain that got you wanting to live in that moment forever – except maybe not with your best FRIEND.

“I like when you touch me,” His raw voice came out softly. “You don´t do it a lot, so I have to enjoy every chance I get.”

You didn´t have an answer to that, the only thing you could think to say was “stop” but how could he stop when he wasn´t even doing anything to begin with? This time it was not his fault that your mind was in the gutter.

“You have enough people touching you already,” You managed to string a few words.

“Yeah, but it feels nicer when it´s you,” He opened his eyes, you could see the sincerity in them and you felt bad that you kind of just wanted to punch him and run away.

You were also surprised by the sudden unexpected eye contact, which explains why you accidentally pulled one of his strands a bit harshly. WHAT WASN´T EXPLAINED THOUGH, WAS THE LOW MOAN HE LET OUT AND THE WAY HIS EYES CLOSED AS HIS MOUTH PARTED. OR THE WAY YOURS HUNG OPEN TOO AT THE SOUND OR THE WAY YOU COULDN´T STOP STARING AT THE STUPID MOLE ON HIS LIP.

It was a moment of insanity, a few seconds when your soul was out of your body; when you tentatively pulled on his hair again, feeling his nails digging into the skin of your thighs and his breathing getting heavier, yours matching.

“If you really don´t want us to fuck then you´re just being cruel right now,” He breathed out, eyes still closed as his forehead met your abdomen.

“I don´t?”

“Is that a question?”

“No. I don´t. I think your hair is dry.”

“It´s definitely not,” He argued, raising his head once again. “C´mon, finish it. No funny business, I promise.”

You wanted to tell him it´s not him you were worried about, it’s the way your own body was betraying you that bothered you, but you took a deep breath and continued with the work, doing your best to ignore his eyes on you or how his hands were once again toying with your thighs or how his thighs were touching your legs or how he was centimeters away from you.

Yeah, a lot of things to ignore.

Was your bathroom always this small?

“You smell nice.”

“I shower once in a while,” You agreed. “And you said no funny business.”

“I´m complimenting you, how is that sexual?”

“It´s not,” You agreed.

He smirked at you because he too was well aware of the tension, if the way his sweatpants were suddenly tight were anything to go by. Thankfully he didn´t answer because you don´t think you could continue to ignore it if he mentioned he was getting hard just by you drying his hair.

Eventually, after what felt like days, you finally turned off the dryer and prayed he would agree to your suggestion, “You´re done. Wanna sleep?”

“Nop, this is a slumber party.”

“What? You want to have a pillow fight now or do facemasks and gossip?” You rolled your eyes.

“Although the first option sounds fun, I was thinking we can watch something until we fall asleep.”

Watch something.

Until you fell asleep.

In your bed.

Sure, what could go wrong?

“What are you doing?” Wooyoung asked amusedly.

“Building a barrier between our sides of the bed.”

He laughed loudly at that, crawling into the bed too and taking the pillows from where you were organizing them, “Wooyoung!”

“Shut up, you enjoyed cuddling once and you will enjoy it again.”

“Absolutely not.”

“What? Afraid you won´t be able to resist me? I thought we were just friends,” He teased.

“Very funny-“

“Because if you´re interested we can just skip the foreplay and go straight to –“

“What do you want to watch?”

You ignored his low chuckle, giving up on fighting for the pillows and getting comfortable on your bed so you could turn on the TV.

“Community?”

“Great,” You agreed between gritted teeth, opening the Netflix app and putting on the show from where you two had stopped it as Wooyoung fluffed the pillows behind his back next to you.

This time he didn´t even ask before pulling you in between his legs, your back against his chest. You didn´t even fight it because honestly, what for? You simply groaned as you felt him searching for the light switch on the wall over your bed.

“Don´t pretend you don´t enjoy it, I´ve got you all figured out now.”

“Yeah yeah, believe what you want to.”

“Shut up, I´m trying to watch the show.”

You huffed, rolled your eyes and crossed your arms all at the same time. You knew it wasn´t at him you were annoyed – although he was sure making a great job at feeding into it.

You also immediately regretted wearing shorts as the palms of his hands splayed over your thighs.

“It´s too hot,” You complained, hoping he would let you go.

Wooyoung simply stretched out one of his hands and grabbed the AC remote, turning it on before tossing it away and returning his palm to your thigh. His silence told you he was focused on the show and you truly wish you could say the same about yourself, but instead, your eyes were glued to the sight in front of you like it was a car wreck, not being able to look away no matter how much your brain ordered you to. Your knees were bent, your thighs almost touching your chest, so his hands were just right there in your line of sight, all veiny and calloused.

The harder you tried to stir your mind away and pay attention to the TV, the more your brain looked like a Wattpad fanfic written by a 40-year-old who just got divorced and discovered sex wasn't just missionary. The conversation you had with Wooyoung about how the girls he fucked became literally obsessed with him kept flashing into your head and you were legitimately about to bite onto your fist and scream for 7 whole minutes.

Your mental breakdown however was interrupted by the man behind you, who with no words started tracing his fingers – seemingly – unpresumptuously over your skin. You ignored it because you had no energy to fight it and as long as it stayed PG-rated it would be fine.

The soft touches plus the very cold wind from the AC hitting you got goosebumps to erupt up your skin and you just felt how your nipples were suddenly sensitive against the fabric of your shirt and Wooyoung´s hand were just there, mere centimeters away and oh, you so desperately wanted him to touch them. In fact, you wanted it so badly you were fighting for your life to keep the uncomfortable squirming to a minimum.

Thankfully, Wooyoung didn´t notice it – deep down you knew he was just pretending not to for your sake, but if he could, so would you.

“Who do you think is hotter, Annie or Britta?” His voice suddenly, almost against your ear, shocked you. “Oh, jumpy, are we?”

“Shut up, I was just startled.”

“So?”

“Britta.”

“Same.”

He went quiet once again, except now, when you thought his mind was once again focused on the show, his hands started getting braver. They escalated from just his fingers drawing shapes on the patch above your knees to suddenly coming down to the sensitive skin between your thighs. You jerked involuntarily even though he only traced his fingers about halfway down your legs. Wooyoung once again pretended to not notice your reaction and you pretended to not notice he was touching you.

His fingers gently brushing the sides of your thighs all the way to your knees before you could feel the tip of his middle finger slowly grazing your skin down the inside of your thighs, lower and lower each time he came down. At this point your heart was beating so fast it was almost coming out of your throat, your breathing labored and sweat building up on your forehead even though the room was freezing cold.

“She´s kind of annoying, though.”

“Who?” You breathed out, honestly not even knowing your name anymore.

“Britta.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Silence once again.

Attention back to the show.

You had to control your whine of disappointment when he retreated his hands.

Ok, you took the chance to breathe, count to 10 and give yourself a pep talk. You could do this. You would not fuck your best friend. If not because of your morals and because of your friendship, because fucking him would mean he won, and you would never give Wooyoung the satisfaction.

Ok, you could do this.

You could definitely do this.

Wooyoung gently gathered your hair and pushed it over your right shoulder, the familiar goosebumps showing up once again at the way the tip of his fingers brushed against the skin of your neck.

Yeah, you could not do this.

The sound that came out of your mouth when his wet lips met the juncture between your neck and shoulder could only be described as a pinscher finding out it could bark. You were in fact shaking as much as those annoying tiny dogs are known for.

You froze, not being able to react when you felt him sucking on your skin or when his tongue tried to soothe the pain his teeth left behind. Your core was clenching so hard it hurt.

“Wooyoung,” Your voice came out as half plead half warning.

“Hm?” He hummed against a different spot on your neck, and it made it a thousand times worse.

“We shouldn´t-”

“Just tell me to stop and I will.”

Except you couldn´t. Not when he found your sweet spot and grazed his teeth against it before gently sucking on it. This time you allowed yourself to squirm and you felt it at the same time you heard it; Wooyoung groaned as you accidentally pressed against him and figured out you were not the only one going insane. His dick was hard and now very much pulsing against your ass and lower back.

Both of you realized you never told him to stop and you were fighting so hard to gain control of your body back as he kissed the vein on your neck - but it was all lost when his hands snaked around your torso and grabbed your boobs. You whimpered, shamefully, squeezing your legs together to try and relieve some of the throbbing.

His kisses grew harsher, as he sucked one spot hard enough to leave a mark, the pad of his middle fingers toyed with your nipples and you simply couldn't pretend you didn´t want this to happen anymore, not with the way you could literally start dripping onto your bed any moment now.

A gasp left your lips when his right hand grabbed onto your thigh and pulled your legs open. You felt his dick twitching when he saw the wet patch in the middle of your shorts.

“Oh, princess,” He sighed, pressing against the stain in pure admiration.

“Wooyoung-”

“Tell me to stop.”

He gave you no time to consider his words, pulling the bottom of your shorts and panties to the side and rubbing his middle finger down your slit to wet it. You carved your nails onto his thighs in return, doing your best to stay grounded. It didn´t even take a minute for you to understand why the prior girls who slept with Wooyoung became obsessed with him, you weren´t really doing anything yet and the second the pad of his finger found your clit while his other hand gently pressed down onto your lower stomach everything became even clearer. You threw your head back on his shoulder in pleasure as he rubbed figure eights against your clit.

Yeah, you agreed to pretend nothing happened starting tomorrow, but you figured you would never be able to forget the sound of your best friend´s deep moan against your ear when he felt you around his finger for the first time.

“Glad to see I´m not the only one going crazy,” He groaned against your ear - and when did his voice get so raspy?

You whined once again, not really knowing what else to do when you were practically on the edge from a minute or two of stimulation.

“Tell me to stop.”

“Wooyoung-”

“I love when you say my name.”

Were you about to cry?

At this point, you just wanted him to ignore you and throw you around and do whatever he wanted, but you knew he wouldn´t until you said so, and you were definitely not doing that. Although with every second that passed with his finger on you, that definitely was turning more into a probably.

“I never told you.”

“Wha- What?”

“From all the ways I imagined this happening, I never told you my favorite.”

“What is it?”

“It´s the one where we´re in a sleepover and you´re so desperate that you can´t even go to the bathroom, so you just very quietly put your hands inside your shorts and touch yourself right next to me thinking that I´m asleep. And I pretend I am, but I can hear the small whimpers you try to hold back, I can feel the slight shake of the bed and I can hear how wet you are so clearly. Sometimes, I even imagine you would decide to use me, not even try to wake me up, just sit on my face and ride it until I pretend to wake up and finally eat you out until you´re crying and shaking.”

When you literally had to hold yourself back from finishing at his words, you grabbed his hand and turned around on your knees, smashing your lips with no fanciness against his. He was quick to grab your ass and direct you to sit on top of his legs, your thighs on either side of his in the familiar position as your tongues met and you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck with all the frustration you had inside you.

“We´re not fucking,” You informed in between labored breaths.

“We don´t have to fuck, I just need you to sit on my face.”

You never whined so loudly in your life before.

That was the one single thing you have been dreaming about hearing for weeks now and you were so happy you could practically cry, in fact, you almost came right there without even being touched.

The link to Part 2 is at the top! <3

#wooyoung smut #wooyoung fics #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x reader #ateez smut #ateez fics #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #wooyoung ateez #wooyoung #jung wooyoung

3K notes · View notes

plethorawrites · 28 days ago

Text

TW: Mentions of dub con/non consensual intimacy or coercion. (From his past lovers, not reader) (A/N this is my favorite thing I've ever writtenreader

TW: NSFW content.

2.5k word count

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Okay, this could be a bit of a hot take, but I am a firm believer in soft Jason Todd during sex.

Especially at the beginning of a relationship. He died young and his only sexual experiences were with Talia, who groomed him, Essence, who he believed betrayed him for the longest time and maybe Artemis, (Idk if that's canon? Can someone confirm or deny?) who was probably pretty rough given her arrogant, abrasive, and violent personality.

So, when he dates you, he's more than just hesitant. He's pretty much terrified. But he's used to hiding his feelings because they make him feel vulnerable and weak, which he hates. When you start tearing down his walls, he starts to panic. He likes spending time with you, thinking about you, kissing you. Especially that last part.

But it never goes very far because he always pulls away when things get more heated. Like, you in his lap, him nearly fully hard before quickly picking you up by your hips and moving you to the other side of the couch before standing up, clearing his throat and leaving.

It takes over two months before he feels comfortable enough to even tell you the reason he doesn't want to be intimate and the only reason he did is because you started to feel like he wasn't attracted to you or you had something wrong.

He rushed to reassure you that wasn't the case and finally told you the —partial— truth. He had scars he didn't want you seeing, he had bad prior experiences, he felt like he was being used almost every time he slept with someone and couldn't stand that feeling because it made him physically ill.

It took several weeks after that to slowly adapt to that realization and discuss how to make that feeling go away. Taking things slow, making it last, keeping it gentle, seemed to be the best way. And it was somehow perfect and tortuous all at once. He let you ride his thigh, at first. That was the first time he'd ever allowed any form of intimacy between you too. Partially because you looked desperate and he felt bad and partially because he genuinely wanted to see what you looked like while doing that.

Not to mention, he was still too afraid to be the one doing anything. So, it was best if he just helped.

His grip was firm, his eyes glued to you. You whispered more praise in those few minutes than he had heard from anyone in months all together, maybe even the year. He felt good. He was helping you. You appreciated it. You appreciated him. He was attractive. You were thanking him for giving this to you. Practically begging for his help.

And it made his heart clench, not to mention his teeth. There were other forms of physical intimacy after that, still only to you, because he didn't want to risk showing his scars or get that nausea in his stomach again during sex. You'd allow him pretty much anything and everything, if it meant he was more comfortable with you and your body. Sliding his hand under your shirt while you slept over (quite literally just falling asleep after eating dinner together) brushing his knuckles against your breasts, hesitant to touch them, but finding comfort in it all at once.

You assured him three different times—before he did it, when his hand was just barely under your shirt, and when his fingers first tugged at your nipples. It's when he's finally a bit more comfortable, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade that you hum and roll over. Your hair finds his hair, stroking it and he presses his lips to your neck, almost on instinct. You let him kiss lower and lower, gently guiding his head towards your breasts, all while repeating more and more praise, reminding him he's under no obligation to do anything, ever, if he doesn't feel comfortable.

But he does. With you, he does.

It leads to him kissing and sucking at your chest until he loses track of time and you're painfully wet. That was plenty, you promised. He doesn't need to do anymore than that. But he does, because he doesn't want to take his hands off your soft skin. So you gently drag his hand down, keeping the other firmly on his shoulder while you stare into his eyes, as his fingers slide through your slick. A sharp inhale makes him hold his breath. The other women he'd been with only ever wanted the most physical part of sex, never to do something like this. You were so soft and warm, assuring him he was doing fine while guiding his hand until you eventually couldn't keep looking at him and had to close your eyes. He liked that. A lot.

The way your hand moved, letting him do what he wanted while you gripped the sheets. He listened so well, trying to make you happy or just keep making those sounds—his name falling from your lips. If you wanted his fingers to move faster, they would. If you said deeper, they were. If you said to curl them, they'd curl. You were so... captivating, he had found. Usually, he was too in his head, so focused on how long until it was over that he never even considered being able to enjoy it.

But he wasn't rushing with you. He didn't want you to stop saying his name. When you finally came down from the high he'd brought you, your first words were a question, asking if he was alright. When he nodded, you started telling him how perfect he was, how good that felt. He liked that almost as much as your moans.

Yet, you felt guilty, never taking care of him. He never asked. In fact he repeatedly denied the offer until you chose to stop asking rather than upset him.

Until one day, when you were on the couch, leaning against him as he read, your hand perched on his thigh. He didn't know if it was the fact that you were wearing such a low cut tank top or how you'd been absent mindedly rubbing circles around his sweatpants while reading over his shoulder, but he was worked up. It took twice as long to finish a page with your motion making his mind go to places it shouldn't.

He was worried, about you rejecting his desires, or something like that. Something mocking or doing something that was uncomfortable. People had done that before, eliciting physical reactions he didn't want to feel. But he wanted to try, to feel you on him the way he'd felt you.

His hands grabbed yours and when you looked up in confusion, he just gently and silently slid your hand a bit further on his leg, towards his erection. He'd absolutely taken care of himself, and often, because it was a quick stress relief that left him tired before bed. But lately, the more he did it, the more his mind wandered to you and that, for some reason, made him finish a lot harder than usual.

Your hand brushed against it and you asked if he was sure before pressing a kiss to the side of his shoulder and sinking down to the carpet below, on your knees in between his legs. Running your hands up and down his thighs in a soothing sort of gesture both calmed him and felt like torture all at once. But it only lasted a little bit, while you promised him he was in control, because that's what he needed to hear.

That he could say no at any time if he was even the slightest bit uncomfortable. When you slid his boxers down, his heart jumped in panic. Of course you noticed the scars on his thighs instantly. But ignored them, because he still hardly ever showed them aside for occasionally wearing short sleeves. You were silent and he was scared but all you'd said at last, was that he was pretty.

"Pretty."

That word had never been used to describe him. Not before his death and certainly not after. Even the feeling of your gentle kiss on his skin and your thumb swiping over the top had him gripping the pillows, still stressed. Your hand took his, squeezing it when your lips finally enveloped him, his length disappearing into your mouth. His breaths were shaky, his hold on your hand getting painfully tight.

He felt like he was in pure bliss, his mouth falling open to pant as his head fell back against the couch practically begging you to keep going. The feeling of your hums had done him in. And his moans, loud and tough, getting whiny towards the end as the euphoria wore off assured you he was fine. He slid his boxers and sweats up quickly, his cheeks red, from the act not embarrassment (he'd say and lie) but you just laid your head on his knee, staring at him, asking how he was.

Good was an understatement. Great, too. Incredible. Amazing. None of those compliments came out. He couldn't speak, just looked back up at the ceiling as his breathing came back under control.

All you'd done in response was tell him he didn't have to say anything if he didn't want to, climbing back into the couch and wrapping your arms around his midsection, resting your head against him. You stayed like that—silent. The only question you dared to ask was if he'd want that again and his response was a kiss.

He realized after that, how truly deeply he loved you.

A feeling he was so unused to, he couldn't pinpoint it for the longest time. You felt safe. Maybe that's what made him want to finally seal the deal with you. Or maybe it was the way his body physically ached in a way that no amount of help from his own hand or your mouth could fix.

Something about it was missing.

He wanted the lights off. You had accepted that, but told him you'd really rather see him. He caved almost instantly, because as afraid he was of you seeing him, he wanted to see you too bad to care enough. You were undressed first, naturally. He'd seen that before, in bed while touching you, or just as you changed it got in the shower. He wasn't any less smitten, still obsessed with every inch of exposed skin. It took a few deep breaths and reassuring words before he was willing to unbutton his shirt.

In fact, he couldn't. He'd asked you to do it.

That felt oddly more intimate to him. Your fingers moved slowly, undoing them one by one, a bit more of his chest exposed with each button undone. You had seen a lot of his scars, after he got more comfortable wearing shorts or shirts that showed his arms. He still never revealed his chest and when you did, he looked away, his teeth sinking into the inside of his cheek to keep from tears brimming in his eyes as he heard the small gasp leave your lips.

He almost jumped when you touched one, your fingertips feeling light as a feather. Tears kept pricking but he refused to let them fall. He was being vulnerable but he couldn't allow himself to be that weak. Your other hand found his cheek, pulling his face to look at your face, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip as you pursed your own, tightly to keep from any strangled sounds escaping.

Your voice was equally as emotional when you eventually spoke, telling him in a shaky voice that he was still pretty. Those words or perhaps how your voice cracked when you said them, broke him. A tear slipped down his cheek and you were quick to brush it away with your thumb and kissed his cheek softly, confessing that you loved him.

He couldn't stand it anymore.

He wrapped his arms tightly around you, burying his face in your neck letting himself breathe for what felt like the first time all over again. A real breath. One without any heaviness attached to it because you'd stolen all the stones from his walls one by one. You repeated it, so he knew it wasn't a mistake or accident and he started peppering short kisses to your neck, all the way to your lips, which he kissed deeply, his bare chest pressed entirely around your own.

Your arms were around his neck, in his hair, pulling him closer and his hands started to wander, desperately craving to have you without any barriers anymore. He stared at you, or at least tried to, when he felt your velvety walls surround him, clenching tightly when his hips were finally flushed with yours. His jaw was locked tightly until you started running your hand up and down his spine, telling him he could take a moment, if he needed it.

He did.

Not because he was nervous, since for once, he wasn't, but because he wanted to stare at you in this state and revel in your feeling for a moment more. He did, until it became painful for both of you and every thrust he made was slow and deep, staring into each other's eyes, taking full breaths in at the same time for several moments until his pace was quick, along with your breathing.

Your praise never stopped, even when it wasn't fully coherent and ended in a moan or whine. His own praise for you wasn't lacking either, telling you how perfect you felt, how badly he wanted you, how much he appreciated you waiting on him because he really was enjoying it, probably more than he'd enjoyed anything in his entire life.

When you're both a mess, panting and quiet from the feelings that washed over you both, his body goes limp, laying on top of you. Your hands rub his shoulders reassuringly, although slowly and his hands hold either side of your head, fingers threaded into your hair as he pressed his forehead against yours, feeling your breath on him. It was silent, until he eventually lifted his head to admire you, your stray hairs sticking to your face, your puffy lips, your blown pupils.

He said it back, at that moment.

He loved you too and couldn't stand letting you think anything else for a single moment more.

You didn't respond, but your lips curled into a grin and a heavy sigh left your chest, your hands moving from his shoulders to cup his face and lean up to kiss him.

He rolled you over, causing a slight squeal from you, letting you lay on him so he wasn't crushing you any longer. You rested your head against his chest, silently tracing his scars as he messed with your hair, the moonlight streaming in through the window.

His voice eventually broke the comfortable silence when he whispered to you, asking you to "Say it again."

You didn't hesitate to tell him you'd "Say it as many times as he wanted to hear it."

With his lips twitching, the slight wit he always possessed came back, questioning what you'd do if he "Wanted to hear it forever."

Like before, your response was immediate when you replied, telling him you'd "Say it forever, then."

#x reader #headcanon #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #batboys #jason todd x you #dc comics #plethorawrites #jason todd imagines #jason todd angst #jason todd needs a hug #jason todd smut #jason todd i love you #soft jason todd #emotions #blah blah blah #okay byyyyye

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tbaluver · 7 months ago

Note

I feel like you’re the perfect author to get this done!! I was wondering if you could do the l&ds boys and their reactions to you crying during sex? Not because you’re upset but either from a genuine love for them or overwhelming feelings and sensations. I love your work so so much!!! <333

When You Cry During Sex- The Love And DeepSpace Men

genre/warning: smut included MDNI, comfort and some fluff

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie!! im so so happy to hear you love my work! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ i hope this is alright and that you'll enjoy this !!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He gazes down at you with a look that combined lust and adoration, one hand reaching to gently cradle your cheek. He sinks into you so slowly as his hands roam free. He lowers his head down where his lips kiss at your neck. He pants and gasps against you, thrusting inside of you deeply. It's the way he took his time with you to give you what you want. Your bodies connected, souls intertwined. He was always so tender and affectionate with you that you didn't even notice the tears racing down your cheeks. Oh how you loved this man so deeply.

He would be SO worried. He would be internally panicking the moment he saw your tears. He'd slowly stop his pace and start asking multiple questions if you were uncomfortable or in any pain while wiping your tears away. He'd also ask if you'd want to stop but you'd cut him off and say no because that's the last thing you want and you were so so close to your climax.

He'd relax to hear you were okay while wiping any extra tears that ran down and replacing each tear with a kiss. You'd apologize for crying but he truly does not care because he insist that he will always be there for you and to wipe any of your tears away. He'd continue his pace to reach your climax and to meet his own.

Zayne:

With his perfectly angled thrusts, you can already feel the intense pleasure building inside of you. Your fingers fist his hair, gripping and pulling at the strands while he thrusts himself into you. An elongated groan strings from his lips as you tug his hair, his head tilting back with your pull, mouth agape while sighs escape him. His eyes peer down, continuing to stay locked on you.

He was so deep inside you, his cock twitching at the sight of his tip pushing slightly against the skin of your lower belly. The way his long fingers curling tighter into your hips to fuck you even harder. The way the man you love always made you feel so so good. He was also so affectionate and prioritized you first even to make you feel so good.

The pleasure coursed through your body with every quick and deep pump of his cock that you didn't even realize the tears tracing down your cheeks.

He would freeze, literally

His pacing would stop, immediately asking you multiple questions of "Are you hurt?" "Would you like me stop?" while he cups your cheeks and wipes your tears.

When you reassured him and explained what happened he was patient and relaxed to hear you were okay. He would always be understanding and sweet. He would draw you in closer, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head before gently pressing another kiss on your lips. It wouldn't take long for you both to get back to where you were and help finish you off.

Rafayel:

Rafayel liked having you on top of him because he can see you bouncing on top of him with your tips going up and down and seeing your face contorting with pleasure every time he reached a little deeper inside you. You work on his cock as your hands roam around his sculpted chest. Both of your grunts and moans echoed in the room as you fastened the pace. You were so close to your orgasm as your movement began to get sloppy. You were desperately chasing your high that you were unaware of the tears quietly sliding down your face.

The tears running down your face made Rafayel panic. He'd stop completely and sit up as he wipes the tears staining your cheeks while babbling "Are you okay?" and "I'm so so sorry." He would get cut off mid sentence when you'd whine and beg to let you continue while pulling him closer so he'd understand.

He would smirk understanding what those tears meant and let you continue back to work. But this time he would take control and grab your hips bringing you up and down, slowing your pace to tease you. "Tell me how much you love bouncing on my cock pretty girl."

Sylus:

Watching your face contort into pleasure was one of his favorite things. He starts thrusting faster, rougher than before, his own sounds of pleasure mixed with yours bounced off the bedroom walls. You whine from the sensation as his places his lips onto yours to soothe you, to comfort you.

Sylus was always so warm and big inside of you. The way your tight hole was fluttering around his girth made you see stars. You don't remember how many times you came on his cock as he rutted against you. Your legs were wide open as his cock was pumping in and out of you in such a fast motion that you didn't even realize tears are leaking from your eyes.

He refused to always take his eyes off you. He's always an observant partner so when he saw the tears run down your cheeks, he would slow down. His voice would be so gentle and ask if you were in any pain and if you would like to stop completely. When he heard you whine to go continue, he would pick up the original pace and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

"Am I making you feel that good baby? Do you want more?" While kissing the back side of your knuckles or down your neck to your collarbone.

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aureatelys · 2 months ago

Text

nobody does it like you do

pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner/fem!reader rating: explicit w.c.: 10k.... a/n: dbf!hotch party ended months ago but im still here

summary:

You don't mean to start something with your dad's best friend during your summer break.

c.w.: 18+ MDNI PLSSSS, dbf!hotch yippee, no y/n, reader is mid-20s and hotch is mid 40s, reader is kind of a brat and also very sexual and forward :), car sex, handjobs in car, v fingering, dom/sub, dirty talk, light degradation kink, size kink if u squint, light choking at the end!, unprotected sex, tbh some plot to mostly porn

read below or on ao3 here <3

You’re nearly half-naked when you first meet him.

It was the first morning back at home during your summer break in your first year of your Master’s program. You hadn’t been home in several months, blaming your rigorous coursework and the full-time job you had, but luckily you were able to use nearly a month’s worth of PTO to coincide with your summer off.

You had gotten in late after flying across the country, but your body still woke up like clockwork just before 9 am.

Currently, as you make eye contact with the tallest and most attractive man you have ever met while wearing a tank top and shorts that barely covered your ass, you couldn’t tell if that was a blessing or a curse.

You had heard your dad rave about what basically sounded like a crush he had over the phone for nearly a year. Aaron Hotchner apparently works with your father at the FBI, albeit in a different department, and they hit it off at a recent gala by discussing golf, expensive scotch, and being annoyed about the latest budget cuts. One Saturday at the country club’s golf course later, your father was hooked, and Aaron has been over at the house nearly every weekend since.

You remember your dad saying something about how he’s hardworking, better than he is at golf, and much nicer than he looks. He didn’t say anything about how hot he was.

You were stumbling out your bedroom and rubbing at your eyes when you had nearly run into him on the way to the bathroom. You’re still waking up, but you see the genuine surprise and something like want on his face before it’s gone, a neutral expression taking over his handsome features. The clench in his jaw betrays him.

“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is low, deep in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. “I was just heading into the restroom.”

You blink at him, your mind still not having not caught up yet. “Uhm.”

“I can just go to the one downstairs,” he says, giving you an easy smile. It makes him look even more devastatingly attractive and you feel dazed. With that, he turns on his heel and makes his way back downstairs without another word.

You distantly hear your father downstairs calling your name and asking if you’re awake. You feel rooted to the spot, flustered.

You try your best to go through your normal bathroom routine, but your heart still hasn’t calmed down yet. It’s been a while since you’ve dated and even longer since you’ve slept with someone, thus you’ve had a lot of quality time with yourself recently, so seeing the way this older man reacted to you was enough to have you preening a bit. You weren’t imagining it, right?

You tell yourself that you’re feeling lazy after a long day of traveling and not wanting to change yet as you head downstairs into the kitchen, absolutely not hiking your shorts up a little and shimmying your tank top down.

“Good morning,” you chirp as you step into the kitchen. Your dad is already sitting at the dining table, most likely finishing his second cup of coffee, and his face lights up when he sees you as if he wasn’t the one to pick you up from the airport late last night. Aaron is standing in the kitchen next to the coffee machine, pouring into a travel mug.

You ignore the way you can feel Aaron’s dark eyes rove over you; the top of your breasts nearly threatening to spill out, your hard nipples poking through your top, and the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath your shorts.

“Morning, pumpkin,” your dad says cheerily, clearly oblivious to what’s going on between his friend and his own daughter. “This is Aaron, he works at the Bureau with me, I told you about him?”

You vaguely remember when you stalked through his Facebook profile several months ago after your father was tagged with him multiple times. The pictures of him were always blurry, never giving you anything to go off of.

As you stand next to him in the kitchen and crane your neck up to look at him, you realize the pictures really don’t do him justice. He’s handsome, almost boy-ish with the way his hair is clean and not gelled down like in the pictures, flopping in front of his forehead. He’s wearing a tight red polo, showcasing his broad shoulders and forearms in a way that makes you want to drool a bit. His brow is pinched, jaw tense, and you almost think you can hear his teeth grinding when he attempts to keep his eyes on your face and not on your chest.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Hotchner,” you say, giving him an innocent smile. You ignore the mug your dad must have left on the counter for you and stand up on your tiptoes to retrieve one from the overhead cupboard.

You feel a rush of exhilaration when you hear Aaron suck in a breath at the way your tank top hikes up your stomach. When you turn back to him, because he is technically in the way of the coffee machine, you catch the way his eyes sharpen and the way his hand grasps at the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white.

And then it’s gone, just like earlier, replaced with something almost professional, probably the same expression he makes when something ticks him off at work.

Interesting.

“Aaron is fine,” he says, stepping out of the way of the coffee machine and then holds his hand out for you to shake.

You can feel your dad watching you, so you make an effort to tone it down a bit. You put your hand in his, swallowing when you notice just how large his hands are and the way he grips you a bit tighter than what would be considered professional. When you look back up at him, there’s something almost like a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Nice to meet you, Aaron,” you repeat. It’s worth it to see a smile grace his face, replacing that smirk, and causing something fuzzy settle in your chest.

When he lets go and makes his way to sit across your dad at the table, you ignore how your hand suddenly feels like it’s burning.

“We’re about to head to the golf course here in a couple of minutes if you wanted to join?” your dad asks as you pour your coffee and sit down at the head of the table.

You hum and experimentally kick your feet out in Aaron’s direction to where he sits to your left. You make contact with his knee, and you watch almost gleefully as Aaron just barely jumps in his seat. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, just quietly sips at his coffee. It really shouldn’t turn you on the way it does. “I’m okay, I was just planning on hanging out here and catch up on my shows.”

“You sure, pumpkin? I know it’s been a while since you were out on the course but…”

“I think that’s exactly why I shouldn’t come with you,” you laugh. You pull your chair up closer to the table, making it look like you were just trying to get comfortable, when really you just wanted to cop more of a feel of Aaron’s thighs.

“Alright, alright,” your father says, putting his hands up in defeat. “But don’t forget about the retreat later this week with the guys.”

You pause from where you were just about to dig your toes underneath his thigh. “Retreat?”

“I told you about it when I picked you up last night!”

“I think you forgot that you picked me up at one in the morning and I was half-asleep in the car,” you roll your eyes. “But of course I’ll go with you.”

“Great!” Your dad says with that big smile on his face that always makes you feel nostalgic. You don’t really want to go, was honestly just planning on relaxing at home, but if it makes your dad happy and you get to spend more time with him, then you’ll do almost anything.

And if Aaron’s coming too, then well…

Your dad gets up to put his mug in the sink and starts making his way out of the dining room. “You ready to go, Hotchner?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Aaron says, a barely detectable rasp to his voice that has you hiding a smile in your mug.

You’re about to put your foot down when you feel thick fingers circling your ankle and lifting your leg up until your ankle is resting on Aaron’s knee. You nearly squeak in surprise, but the look on Aaron’s face stops you.

He would look calm, composed even, if you didn’t pay attention to the way his eyes have darkened. His brow is pinched, lips pressed into a thin line, as he tightens his grip on your ankle and asks in a low voice “What kind of game are you playing here?”

Not expecting confrontation, you don’t know what to say. Your breath gets stuck in your chest, something about the glare he’s giving you keeps you rooted in your chair.

Because there’s really only two options here. He’s your dad’s best friend, at least 20 years older than you, and you really have no business in sexually riling up this guy you’ve never met before until today. You can apologize, give him a genuine and friendly smile, and go back to your room and pretend this never happened and you weren’t just throwing yourself at some hot older man.

But there’s something about Aaron that you can’t quite put your finger on. You wonder what it would be like to see him without those walls he undoubtedly keeps up all the time, see him come undone. You can tell from his Facebook pictures that he’s a bigshot of some kind, always wearing a fitted suit and not a hair out of place. You can see that now, in his pressed polo and matching belt, that he likes control, his skin nearly thrumming with it. And that’s something you’ve always enjoyed playing with.

You noticed the lack of a wedding ring on his finger, and the way he’s gazing into you now. The hot trail his hand leaves behind as he starts running up your shin, past your knee, and grip at the meat of your thigh says all you need to know.

“What game?” you say, innocently. You even play it up a bit by batting your lashes at him.

His grip on your thigh tightens, and it feels so good, and it’s been so long, you resist rolling your eyes back and instead spread your legs just a bit underneath the table.

“Your father didn’t tell me you were such a brat,” he mutters.

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him,” you say, hoping you don’t sound as out of breath as you feel.

Aaron doesn’t say anything at that, just hums thoughtfully. You don’t have a chance to backpedal, redirect the conversation if you were reading the whole situation wrong, before he’s placing your leg back on the floor with a gentle hand on your ankle and getting up.

“We can talk more about what you want to do after school later,” he says, raising his voice a bit in an effort to appear like he wasn’t just groping you underneath the table.

You almost don’t hear what he says because your gaze is fixed on the obvious tent in his khakis. Your mouth nearly waters, and just knowing that you’re having the same kind of effect on him as he has on you has heat pooling between your thighs.

You shake your head, resisting the thoughts of throwing yourself on your knees in front of him and taking him in your mouth right in the dining room. You grin up at him and, in an impulsive decision that you’re secretly proud of, you reach over to put a hand on his thigh, dangerously close to his crotch.

“Absolutely, Mr. Hotchner.”

Your smile grows wider at the stormy glare he gives you before he heads out of the dining room, imperceptibly adjusting himself in his pants. Your eyes follow him out, cheeks nearly starting to hurt from how hard you’re smiling because damn, does his ass look good.

It’s your summer vacation, you may as well have some fun, right?

Since then, you’ve barely seen Aaron.

You had made Aaron and your father sandwiches, knowing they’d be home by the afternoon. You tried not to let the fact that you were upset, disappointed even, show on your face when your dad came home by himself and told you that Aaron got called for a case.

You knew from your dad that this was a normal occurrence for Aaron and that they’ve both gotten used to it. So many times there would be a gala or a party at the house and he would be called away to chase down a murderer or a rapist or a combination of the two.

You tried not to let it get to you, because seriously, you just met him, but also, it’s not like he owes you anything. But you really hoped that he wouldn’t miss the retreat later that week. Just imagining spending time with him in your lone hotel room was enough to make you dizzy.

So, you distracted yourself. You caught up on your emails, watched those shows that had been piling up in your watch later list, and spent time with your dad at the golf course or whatever else he wanted to do that day. It was nice spending your summer vacation with your dad and catching up on what he does at his boring administrative job and the lack of both of your love lives.

By the time Friday rolled around, there was still nothing but radio silence from Aaron, at least you assumed since your dad hadn’t mentioned him. You almost wish you had asked for his phone number before he left, but it wouldn’t have done you any good to waste a whole week sitting by your cellphone, waiting for a probably dry text from some guy.

A really hot, older guy that definitely has control issues and could toss you around like a ragdoll.

You’re throwing your bag in your car’s backseat and was about to admit defeat, that maybe he really wasn’t going to make it, when a black Range Rover comes skidding down your street and into your driveway.

“There he is,” your dad said in a sing-song voice, sounding about as giddy as you felt.

Your breath catches in your throat when you see him stepping out of his car, because how the hell is it possible for a man to look so attractive doing something so mundane?

And then your eyes nearly bug out because he has his suit jacket hanging from his arm, a duffel bag in the other, and is wearing a white dress shirt so tight that you could see the bulge of his biceps and the softness of his stomach.

“Sorry I’m late,” Aaron says, jogging up to where you and father were. “We just got back a couple hours ago.”

He looks at you then with those pretty brown eyes, looking genuinely apologetic, and the disappointment that you were afraid was going to take a permanent place in your chest gently unravels.

“It’s no problem, Hotch,” your dad waves him off. “We’re still waiting for some of the other guys, so you made it just in time.”

“Great,” Aaron breathes in relief. “I’m going to go change then, I’ll be right back.” His eyes flit towards you again, and you would’ve missed it if you weren’t still staring at him. They’re piercing, undoubtedly beckoning you to follow him, and there’s a hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth.

You feel a rush of excitement shooting through you as you watch him head towards the front door, eyes fixated on his hips. There was no clearer sign than that one, though you try not to roll your eyes fondly at the fact that your dad evidently did not notice as he goes back to playing Tetris with his bags in the trunk.

You wait a couple of minutes, pretending to play on your phone, and then exclaim “Oops, I almost forgot my phone charger! I’m going to run upstairs and get it.”

Your dad just gives an “Okie dokie, sweetie,” and then his phone rings with who you assume is one of his friends you’re waiting for.

You try to not sprint to the front door, instead taking a deep breath and walking in what you hope looks like a normal pace. However, as soon as the front door clicked shut, you run up the stairs, hoping Aaron chose your bathroom rather than the one downstairs.

Not spotting him waiting outside the bathroom, your heart nearly drops out from underneath you, however you notice the closed door and the soft golden light from underneath telling you that you were right.

You were right and maybe you weren’t imagining things. He knew you would listen to his unspoken instructions and follow him. You weren’t a profiler like him, not an expert at studying other people’s body language, but there was nothing fake about the fact that he got hard at your dining room table and you had only known each other for 10 minutes that Sunday.

The click of the door opening disrupts your thoughts. You’re about to grin up at Aaron, say something cute like how you’ve missed him or something more playful like asking why he hasn’t called you.

But you don’t get the chance because you’re suddenly being pressed up against the wall, warm hands on your hips, and Aaron’s soft mouth pressing into yours.

He swallows your gasp, his fingers inching up the hem of your tank top to touch the skin of your waist and kisses the life out of you. His lips are chapped and he tastes fresh, like he had a breath mint on the drive here, and the thought that he had that foresight just for you makes your knees weak.

He kisses you deeply, not even bothering to start gentle like so many other boys have tried before, and it’s overwhelming and not enough at the same time. You’re helpless to kiss back, your body finally catching up, and your hands come up to tangle at the soft strands at the nape of his neck.

He hums against your lips at that, his hands starting to move underneath your shirt to trace the swell of your breasts through your bra. It tickles, and you squirm a little and huff a laugh against his mouth before you can help it.

Before you could apologize and tell him to stop tickling you, his hands press your hips harder against the wall and his lips break away from yours. You attempt to chase him, because you were definitely not done making out, when Aaron tuts at you.

“Behave,” he warns lowly, but he has a full-blown smirk now. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, and his lips red and glistening. He looks so unbearingly sexy when he’s reprimanding you, he just makes it so easy for you to tease him.

“Or what?” You ask, smiling up at him. You watch as his smirk falters, brows furrowing, and something like frustration and exasperation blooms on his face.

“You’re ridiculous,” Aaron breathed, before he’s leaning in and pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. He scrapes his teeth against the spot where your shoulder and neck meets and your knees actually buckle this time, something like a strangled moan coming out of your mouth and catching you by surprise. “Looks like you do know how to watch that mouth of yours.”

Any snarky comeback you have dies in your throat because you did not expect Aaron to have that kind of dirty mouth on him. Molten heat starts to pool at the bottom of your stomach, between your thighs, as he slips the strap of your tank top down your shoulder to trace your collarbone with his lips.

“Aaron…,” you whisper, letting your hands fall from his nape to grab at his shoulders, trail down to grope at his biceps. The sleek muscle you can feel even through the fabric of his polo that he changed into, tensing and flexing as he pushes at you, sends your mind reeling.

“What is it, sweetheart?” he mutters against your shoulder, his warm breath and the pet name making you feel paralyzed. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your eyes roll back as you feel him biting a mark onto your chest, right underneath your collarbone, the pain and pleasure tingling all the way down to your cunt. You say something unintelligible, brain feeling muddled, because holy shit.

“Hey pumpkin, did your find your charger? We have to get moving!” You hear your dad’s voice from downstairs and barely swallow back a gasp before Aaron’s hand is pressed over your mouth to quiet you. You hate that that does absolutely nothing to help the growing arousal between your thighs.

Aaron’s eyes meet yours. His eyes have gotten impossibly darker, soft hair falling against his forehead. The wild desire and excitement are clear on his face, but he raises his eyebrows at you to signal you to behave before he lifts his palm off your face.

“Coming!” you yell back at him, hoping the strain in your voice isn’t as obvious to him as it is to you.

Aaron hums, something smug playing at his lips. “Maybe later.”

And it’s ridiculous. Aaron Hotchner, stoic Unit Chief of an FBI unit, best friend of your dad, and 20 years older than you just made out with you so hard that your knees buckled and made a joke about making you come?

You huff a laugh, pushing at his shoulder so you can wriggle out of his grip. He lets go immediately, stepping back to give you several feet of space, and you try not to think about how you already miss the heat and weight of his body against yours.

You’re about to run downstairs, an excuse about realizing you already packed your charger on the tip of your tongue, when Aaron is circling his fingers around your wrist. You look back at him curiously, because as much as you want to, there definitely isn’t time for him to ravage you in your bedroom.

He looks much more composed now, more like his professional SSA Aaron Hotchner self, but you catch the way his eyes linger on the way your shorts ride up high and the soft expanse of your thighs. “I’m serious. We’ll finish this later.”

And it’s the way he doesn’t pose it as a question, but rather a guarantee. Like nothing is going to stop him from having his way with you.

The thought of being completely at Aaron’s mercy has you breathless, feeling a flush rise on your face and your pulse between your legs. He has you stunned speechless, because you’ve never been with someone who has made you feel complete and utter want. You look at him now, chest imperceptibly heaving and making that olive green polo tug across the wide expanse of his chest, you realize that he may just ruin other people for you completely.

Your throat clicks when you clear it, and you only feel a little embarrassed when Aaron doesn’t hide his smirk at you. All words have died in your throat, so you nod instead, hoping that he will take that as an answer.

If possible, Aaron looks even more smug at that.

“Good girl.”

The drive to the hotel where the retreat is being held is only 2 hours away, which would’ve been perfectly easy, if you weren’t stuck in the car with Aaron.

You were planning on driving your own car with the top down, wind in your hair, and music blasting. You wanted to spend at least part of your summer vacation doing girly summery things, such as driving into the night with your hair whipping your face and feeling the humidity making your tank top stick to your back.

You also thought you would have time to yourself to think about Aaron and what the hell you got yourself into.

Instead, because you can’t tell if the universe loves or hates you, you have to take Aaron’s Range Rover because everyone else’s cars are packed full, and your dad wouldn’t let you drive by yourself. You tried not to show the excitement bloom on your face when your dad told you, but by the pointed look that Aaron gave you, you didn’t do a very good job.

So, it’s just you, Aaron, and the incredibly tangible sexual tension between you.

The first 30 minutes was easy. It took a while for everyone to find the correct route and there was a lengthy discussion over the phone about whether anyone wanted to stop anywhere for any reason. Eventually, you and at least 4 other similarly lavish cars made it onto the highway.

Aaron was silent for most of the phone call, saying that he didn’t have anywhere he wanted to stop at, and was just looking forward to the fancy clawfoot tub the hotel advertised on their website. You threw a glance at him at that, wondering if he was trying to tell you that he wanted to fuck in the bathtub, but nope. His eyes were firmly on the road, both arms on the steering wheel like a responsible adult or whatever.

You weren’t sure how he was able to act like nothing happened—like you weren’t about to let him just fuck you up against the wall in your childhood home, because currently, you felt like you were about to jump out of your skin from the nervous energy thrumming through you.

You fully ogle him now since it’s not like you have anything to hide. Even his side profile is attractive, but at this point you’re not surprised. Everything you’ve been noticing about him has been steadily driving you wild; the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint traces of stubble, and the way his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white.

You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple as he deadpans “You’re staring.”

You grin at him before you could help it. “It’s not my fault you’re so handsome. They should study you in art classes, maybe you can even get naked for it?”

The snort that comes out of Aaron’s mouth is sudden, and by the way his eyebrows pinch together like he’s thinking hard, he notices as well. “You really are insatiable.”

“You say that like we’ve even done anything yet,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, turning your head to the window to stare at the sun setting. It would be nighttime by the time you got to the hotel, but you’re already sleepy and debating taking a nap while Aaron drives.

You jump when you feel his hand on your thigh, large and warm. You’ve had other men put their hand on your thigh while they drive and it’s nice, maybe even comforting at times, but with Aaron, the action feels darker. It feels more possessive, heated, and just the sight of his huge hand squeezing the flesh of your thigh has you unconsciously squeezing your legs, trapping the tips of his fingers between them.

“Can you behave?” he wondered out loud. “Because you’re not showing me that you can until we get to the hotel.”

The challenge is clear in the deep timbre of his voice, nearly condescending in a way that makes your breath quicken. You vaguely thought about what he had planned for you at the hotel, luckily you had a whole room to yourself since none of your dad’s friends’ daughters wanted to come. You don’t necessarily blame them—you probably wouldn’t have come either if it weren’t for Aaron and the undoubtable promise that you will have the best sex of your life.

And you do want to wait, honestly. But right now, watching the way his biceps flex in the golden light and remembering the way he desperately grabbed at your hips has you rethinking.

So, you give him an innocent smile, reminiscent of the one you gave him earlier this week, and take a hold of his hand to intertwine your fingers together. The action is slightly risky, implying something about your relationship that neither have you discussed. You may be overthinking it, worried that Aaron would think you’re jumping to conclusions, but all of your reservations disappear when Aaron’s hand squeezes yours and brings your joined hands to rest in his lap.

He gives you a soft smile, one you’ve never seen before that makes your chest tighten, and turns his gaze back on the road.

The following 10 minutes are quiet besides the soft roar of the engine and the gentle hum of the radio. The sun setting washes the interior of the car with a warm gold, and you can’t help but notice the way both of your hands, still clasped together, just look so good together. Like you perfectly complemented each other.

You blame it on the fact that you’re starting to get bored when you wiggle your hand to free yourself from Aaron’s grasp to run your fingers along the top of his hands. You trace each knuckle before tracking the visible veins with a light touch, your fingers running up his wrist and to his forearm. The dusting of hair is soothing when you place a firmer hand onto his forearm, gripping it, and your heart thuds in your chest when you notice your thumb and middle finger can’t even touch each other.

He's just so big. His arms, his hands, his shoulders. The way he can so easily overpower you, manhandle you, domineering in a way that makes you want to act out even more just to see what he would do.

He throws you a curious glance when your hand moves up to his bicep, squeezing and feeling.

“Just touching,” you say, and then Aaron’s eyes are back on the road.

The next thing you do is completely spontaneous, out of character for you even, however you know being impulsive is what got you here in the first place.

You place your hand on his crotch.

He doesn’t jump because, of course not. If anything, he was expecting it by the way he just gives you another curious look. Your eyes are instantly drawn to the way his tongue flicks out to wet his lips and the sudden clenching of his jaw.

“Still just touching,” you repeat and turn your focus to your phone with your free hand, leaving your other hand in his lap.

You scroll mindlessly through several different apps for a couple minutes, not even reading anything because you’re too stunned with the fact that Aaron didn’t say anything or remind you to be on your best behavior. Your hand is still precariously placed on his crotch, the seam of his jeans warm against the palm of your hand.

You start scrolling more intently now, reading the entirety of at least every other post, before you start tentatively rubbing your fingers on where you can definitely feel the head of his dick through his pants. Aaron inhales sharply, so quietly you almost don’t hear it, and it’s all the permission you need.

You start pressing more firmly, grabbing him through his jeans to the best of your ability and tracing the line of his slowly hardening cock through the rough material. You grope at him, nearly shamelessly now, and it takes all of your willpower to not throw your phone to the backseat and jump into his lap.

Instead, you place your phone at your feet and turn your body towards him. His back is ramrod straight and his hands are grasping at the steering wheel like his life depends on it. If anyone passing by looked through the window, they would just assume that Aaron was one of those extremely attentive drivers. However, up close, you can see the tense line of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched together, and the way he’s attempting to hide the way he’s starting to breathe heavily through slightly parted lips.

It's intoxicating, and you want more.

Your hand begins to move up his zipper to the top button of his jeans. His eyes dart to you then, craning his neck slightly to look at you but also making sure to keep his eyes on the road, as if the road is even that busy.

“You really can’t listen, can you?”

That condescending tone again makes your brain nearly short-circuit. It’s like a dam breaks because suddenly you’re leaning over the console, making your breasts nearly spill out from your tank top, and you want him in your mouth and coming down your throat if it’s the last thing you’ll ever do. “Can I?”

“Can you what, sweetheart? Use your words.”

Christ. “Please, can I suck on your cock?”

He hums nonchalantly, as if you can’t see the way he shifts in his seat or the way he’s hurriedly unbuttoning his jeans with one hand. “’Please?’ Looks like you do have some manners.”

And then he’s taking his cock out and you nearly combust on the spot. He’s not fully hard, but you still want nothing more than to feel him on your tongue.

You’re just about to unbuckle your seatbelt to throw yourself into his lap before he stops you by placing his hand over yours.

“Not your mouth, we don’t want other people to know what a dirty girl you are. Use your hands,” he says, nonchalant again in a way that makes your heart race and the ache between your thighs grow.

Although the idea of being caught with your head in his lap and cock down your throat suddenly sounds extremely appealing in a way you’ve never thought of before, you have no choice but to listen and follow his instructions.

You hesitatingly wrap your hand around him, watching in near fascination at the drop of precum that leaks out. He’s big here too, satisfyingly thick and warm in your hand. You move your hand up to smear the wetness around him and then start a steady rhythm of pumping his cock.

A strangled groan comes out of Aaron eventually, and you watch as he attempts to throw his head back in ecstasy while still watching the road with half-lidded eyes. The wide expanse of his pretty throat tempts you, imagining what it would be like to pepper kisses up to his tense jaw to help him relax.

He’s fully hard now, precum steadily leaking out and coating the palm of your hand. You attempt to vary your actions; twisting on the upstroke, squeezing when you’re at the base, or tracing your thumb against the head of his cock. The loud squelching noise makes you feel embarrassed and hot all at the same time, the way it’s drowning out the radio’s music. Your mouth waters as you watch the head of his dick disappear in your fist, wishing you could taste him or see the sheer bliss on his face as he fucks your mouth.

“You couldn’t even wait to get your hands on me, could you?” Aaron murmured, nearly sneering at you. “I bet if I let you, you would let me pull over and fuck you here on the side of the road.”

You swallow nervously, clenching your thighs and trying to ignore the obvious wetness you can feel in your own panties. You squeeze him harder, enthralled by the feeling of his hot flesh against you, and breathlessly whisper “I would.”

He hisses at that, nearly bucking his hips up to follow your hand. “You would let me fuck you anywhere I want.”

It wasn’t a question, but you still feel compelled to answer. “Yes.”

Just then, Aaron’s phone rings from the phone mount on the dashboard. Dread and something awfully similar to delight prickles at the back of your neck when you notice the caller ID being your father. You’re about to retract your hand until Aaron gives you a look out of the corner of your eye, almost like a glare, before his own hand is hot over yours to keep you there.

“Keep going.”

Before you can think of a snarky remark, Aaron swipes at his phone to answer.

“Hotchner.” Nonchalant, casual, as if he doesn’t have his leaking cock in the hands of his best friend’s daughter.

“Hey Hotch, we’re coming up on a great burger joint here in a couple of miles and I wanted to see if you guys were alright with that? I think we lost you.”

You must have been extremely distracted because you’re just now noticing you can’t see your father’s car ahead of you anymore. There are only a few cars on the highway now after finally passing all the city traffic, now driving through a somewhat rural area. You don’t blame yourself after all, because how often do you find yourself giving handjobs to hot older men in their cars?

“I was actually thinking of pulling over at a rest stop, someone’s not feeling well.” Aaron cranes his neck, raising an eyebrow at you.

Even in the darkness of the summer evening and the sparse streetlights bouncing off the dashboard, the pure and primal desire swimming in his eyes is clear and causes a flush to rise to your face.

“Yeah, it must have been lunch,” you attempt to joke, hoping that the rasp in your voice doesn’t give you away. You feel Aaron’s cock twitch in your hand.

Your dad hums through the tinny speakers. “Yeah, you don’t sound so good.”

You notice the car slowing down, not realizing that you were pulling up to a secluded area of a rest stop, right underneath a tree. You glance out the window and take in the fact that the nearest car is over 10 spots away and the closest streetlight is burnt out. You think of the discreet dark color of the car and the tinted windows. Anticipation curls at the bottom of your stomach.

“We’ll let you know when we’re back on the road.” And then Aaron immediately hangs up, parks the car, and leans over the console to kiss you with a hand cradling your cheek.

He cuts to the chase again, kissing you so deeply that your head spins. His mouth is soft but he’s assertive even like this. His hand moves to the back of your neck, taking a hold of you, and your mouth opens in a moan before you can stop yourself, allowing Aaron’s tongue to brush against yours.

When he pulls back, something like a needy whine erupts from your throat. You don’t realize that your hands moved to grasp at his polo, leaving Aaron’s cock free and pressed against his stomach.

“You drive me crazy,” Aaron mutters, brushing a lock of hair behind your head. His gesture and words are impossibly soft, a complete contrast to how he was kissing you, making your breath stutter in your chest.

“You drive me crazy,” you whisper breathily. “Please fuck me?”

He huffs a laugh at that, something you’re slowly starting to become familiar with, and tightens his hold on the back of your neck. There’s nothing soft in his eyes anymore. “Get in the back, now.”

You scramble to get out of the car, legs nearly shaking. The summer humidity is cloying, suffocating, and you rush to open the door to crawl in the backseat.

The seats are just as large and plush as up front, however there’s definitely more foot room that you’re sure Aaron will appreciate. You’re waiting in the middle seat, legs tucked underneath you, as you watch Aaron tuck himself back into his jeans and step out of the car with an air of nonchalance that somehow makes him even more attractive.

When he opens the door to climb into the back, your eyes meet and you suddenly feel frozen to the spot, because he starts to encroach into your space, nearly predatory. There’s a glint in his eyes as he places his hand on your back, lowering you so you’re laying on the seats. You unconsciously spread your legs so he could situate himself between them, and the feeling of his large and warm body between your thighs has you hitching them up on his hips.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been thinking about this,” Aaron murmurs before ducking his head to press his mouth against your jawline, down your neck, and finally finally sucking a mark where your shoulder meets.

You exhale a shaky moan, bringing your hands up to run down his back and feel how wide his shoulders are and how you can feel his muscles tense as he moves. The wet heat of his mouth, his obscenely large hands on your hips, and the way his figure nearly engulfs you is mesmerizing.

He pulls back to take a look at you, thumb coming up to press into the mark he made and putting light pressure against your neck. There’s something wild and possessive in his eyes, his lips parted like he can’t believe what’s happening. “There you go. Now you’ll remember who you belong to.”

It feels like your breath is knocked out of you and replaced with something equally possessive. “Are you going to fuck me or what?”

Something dark passes over his face. “And here I thought you were going to behave.”

Before you could say anything, Aaron is swiftly lifting your tank top up and over your head, throwing it somewhere towards the passenger seat, and groping your tits. He thumbs at your nipples, watching in awe as you arch your back and push your chest further into his hands. The sudden sensation, pleasure zinging up your spine, after being teased for an entire week is dizzying and you want to drown in it.

“You’re so needy for it, aren’t you?” Aaron says, casually, as he pinches at your nipples. You choke on your moan, the initial sting melting into pleasure that makes you feel drunk. “You’re practically begging for my cock.”

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out. Your hands scramble at his shoulders, running up to tangle the soft hairs at the nape of his neck between your fingers. “I need your cock inside me.”

He leans down to suck one of your nipples in his mouth, deft fingers continuing on the other. His mouth is so deliciously wet and hot, expertly licking around you in a way that’s slowly unraveling you, and you shiver when you think about where else his mouth can be of use. Your eyes nearly roll back in your head and you cant your hips up desperately in an effort to gain some sort of friction against the nearly overbearing ache between your thighs.

His hands come down to press your hips down in an effort to make you stop squirming and you feel him shift until his knee is pressing between your legs and against your pussy through your shorts. The feeling of his warm hands on you and the seam of your shorts rubbing against your clit causes an embarrassingly high-pitched whine to escape your throat.

“You’re teasing me,” you pant, tugging at his hair experimentally.

Another raspy groan erupts from Aaron and, if possible, you feel hotter. His mouth detaches from your nipple and you instantly miss the hot heat of his mouth, until he says “And what if I want to taste that pretty little cunt of yours?”

Imagining Aaron pressing open-mouthed kisses against your thighs, breathing hotly against your panties until he’s pressing his tongue against you, smearing even more wetness around until you’re nearly dripping onto the expensive upholstery has you whimpering. Your mind races as you imagine him pulling your panties aside so he can press his soft mouth against you, licking and lapping at your pussy like you’re a five-course meal, sucking on your clit until you’re screaming his name and begging him to stop.

No words come out, mind nearly melted just at the thought of Aaron looking up at you from between your thighs and his mouth on your cunt. Instead, you let out a breathless moan and attempt to grind down against Aaron’s knee, chasing the little stimulation you can get.

Aaron licks his lips as he watches you, eyes dark and predatory. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?” His thumbs briefly traces your hips, and you nearly miss the tender touch, before he’s hooking them into the waistband of your shorts and tugs them down. “But we don’t have time for that, so I’m just going to fuck that needy pussy of yours.”

It took quite a bit of wriggling and Aaron hitting his head against the roof of the car to get your shorts and panties off of you, and you’re about to joke that this was an exercise in of itself, until Aaron is settling back between your legs with his own legs crammed underneath him. You suddenly realize Aaron is still wearing all of his clothes, polo wrinkled and pants hanging loosely at his hips, while you’re completely naked and vulnerable, desperate and needy like he said.

His fingers dance across the soft expanse of your thighs until he presses a finger against you, so close to where you need him. You breathe unsteadily and have to close your eyes, suddenly feeling overwhelmed, when Aaron gently grazes between your folds. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me, honey. Is this all for me?”

You nod rapidly and push your hips down in an effort to tell him to hurry the fuck up.

Aaron tuts at you. “What did I say about using your words?” And then he’s forgoing your clit completely and pressing a thick finger inside.

You gasp, eyes shooting open and meeting his from where he’s watching your face so intently it would’ve been intimidating if you didn’t feel white-hot pleasure take over your body. “Yes, I’m wet, just for you,” you rush out.

He hums, satisfied. “Just for me, right?” He begins thrusting his finger inside of you, and the feeling of being filled and something finally happening has you arching your back against him again, soft whines escaping your mouth before you can help it. The lewd noises from your sopping pussy rings out in the small space of the car, jarring, but it just makes you feel hotter.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, attempting to rut your hips down to meet his thrusts, steadily growing in pace. Your hand shoots down to take ahold of his forearm, nearly distracted at the veins popping out, when you feel a second finger prodding at you. “Please just fuck me already, I’m ready.”

You watch Aaron’s mouth form what has to be a reprimand, scolding you for being so desperate, but then it closes and forms into something softer even as his gaze is fixated on his thick fingers thrusting in and out of your pussy. He leans in and kisses you before you realize, just a soft press of his lips against yours. When he pulls back, he’s still wearing a faint smile, and tucks a stray strand of your hair behind an ear. It’s all so painstakingly affectionate, you feel at a loss for words again but for a completely different reason you can’t name.

“How can I say no to you?” he mutters, almost to himself, and it shocks you to your core.

He doesn’t wait for a response and pulls out a condom from his back pocket. You watch as he’s about to tear the foil packet open, thoughts turning over and over in your head, before you exclaim “It’s fine, I’m on the pill.”

He pauses and stares at you, serious based off the pinch of his brows. “Are you sure? I don’t mind…”

“I’m sure,” you say, throwing your arms around his neck so you can run your fingers through his hair. And you are absolutely sure, confident, because you know the cherry on top of this whole experience would be feeling his cock spill in your pussy and filling you up. “I want to feel you.”

You watch as he groans, closes his eyes, and leans his forehead against yours, staring at the flutter of his long eyelashes. “You are killing me, sweetheart.”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Are you kidding me? I can say the same for you.”

Because if you thought Aaron looked good wearing a suit in those blurry pictures on Facebook, it doesn’t even compare to how he looks now. His polo tightly stretched over his shoulders, slightly disheveled from where you were grabbing onto him, belt unbuckled and pants hanging deliciously half-open from his hips, and hair tousled, the gel maintaining his professional appearance giving way to make him look younger. He’s so unbelievably hot you almost believe you’re dreaming.

You watch as he pushes his jeans and boxers down enough to where his cock pops out, the head a sympathetic dark red from where he must’ve been achingly hard this entire time. Before you make another attempt to have him in your mouth, he’s pushing in, stretching you deliciously open and making you grip harder at the hair at his nape.

“Fuck, you’re still so tight for me,” Aaron grunts, his hands flying to grasp onto your hips.

Although you can feel him sink into you, inch by inch, you’re mesmerized by the sharp focus on his face, the pinch in his brow and eyes clenched shut. As if he’s trying not to throw away all abandon and pound into you, and the thought is so intoxicating it makes your head spin.

“Oh my god,” you mumble. He bottoms out, his cock finally pushed all way in your pussy, and he’s much bigger, thicker, than you realized. It feels so, so good—being filled up with his hard cock, his hips pressing against your thighs as they splay out the way you’ve been dreaming of for the past week.

“You okay?” Aaron asks, gentle again, and before you could answer, he’s pulling back and thrusting back into you.

A gasp wretches out of you and your hands scramble at his back, pulling him down because you need him to be closer, need his large body pushing down on you and making you take him.

He lets you, giving you a mockingly sympathetic look, and leans down to press an open-mouthed kiss against your jawline. He starts a steady rhythm then—thrusting in and out of you and knocking the breath out of you. “You’re going to take my fat cock, baby? I know you’ve been begging for it all week; you need it so bad, don’t you?”

Jesus Christ.

Words escape you again, instead, your mouth hangs open as you attempt to nod in response. Even though the car’s AC was blasting, you were covered in sweat and sliding up the seats with every thrust of Aaron’s hips. You definitely weren’t complaining, probably wouldn’t even be able to because sounds you didn’t even know you were capable of making kept coming out of you, eyes nearly permanently rolled back in your head. It felt so good, you didn’t think fucking could ever feel this good, but Aaron continues to exceed expectations.

You hitch your legs up his hips higher and let out a high-pitched whine at the change in angle, hot pleasure zinging up your spine. Aaron grunts, something dark and masculine that makes you preen, and his hips start snapping harder, faster.

“Look at you,” he murmurs lowly right into your ear. “Being fucked so good you can’t even speak.”

He shifts again, hands hooking underneath your thighs and, with your nod, presses your knees to your chest until they’re next to your ears, legs dangling over his shoulders. You wrap your arms around your thighs, holding them in place, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head when Aaron’s cock slides even deeper into your cunt with a wet sound. He feels heavenly, even despite not having touched your clit at all.

He fucks you relentlessly and you think your brain has melted out of your ears because you just take it. The sound of his skin slapping against yours, the litany of groans and praises that fall from his lips, and your nonstop whimpering gasps is heady. You don’t even care if you can’t come just from him rutting into you alone, it feels too fucking good.

He sits back up, not once breaking his brutal pace, and makes unwaveringly intense eye contact with you. “My beautiful girl takes my cock so well, making such pretty noises. I can’t wait to fill this pussy up with my come.”

You really did not expect Aaron to have the dirty mouth he does, but again, you’re not complaining. Instead, you bring one of your arms down to snake between your thighs where you’re absolutely soaked in your combined wetness and sweat to circle your clit. The added stimulation, finally, has your thighs shaking and your pussy clenching around him. You squirm a bit, because his belt buckle has started to dig into you from where his pants are pooling around his knees, but you’re suddenly so close.

“Fuck, Aaron…”

He licks his lips at that, starts to fuck into you faster somehow. He knocks your hand aside to replace with his own and you absolutely mewl when you feel the rough callous of his thumb gently circling your clit, impossibly slow. “Is my good girl going to come? You’re going to come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

Your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can barely detect the strain in Aaron’s voice, like he’s close too. “Yes, yes, please,” you stutter, feeling your gut tighten and sweat breaking out on the back of your neck. “Harder.”

Aaron lets out a shaky laugh. “Since you asked so nicely.”

And then he’s rubbing your clit mercilessly, almost too rough if your nerves weren’t already so close to snapping. You let out a string of strangled whines, your hands coming up to hold onto Aaron’s free arm for dear life. You’re so wet that his fingers just glide over you, the wet noises of him fucking into you getting you hotter, making the coil in your stomach wind tighter, but it’s still not enough.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as Aaron lifts his right hand from where he was definitely leaving bruises on your hip to place at the base of your throat. Your eyes widen but you don’t stop him because the feeling sends your mind spinning, realizing that you have placed so much trust in this man and he’s thoughtful enough to care for you, treasure you, and fuck you so hard he’s definitely ruined you for anyone else.

His eyes are impossibly dark, hair falling into his face, and you meet his gaze unblinkingly as he puts light pressure on your throat. “Come for me.”

You don’t know if it’s the hand on your neck, his cock frantically fucking into you, or the soft baritone of his voice that has you pushing over the edge. You come with a choked gasp of his name, hips and thighs shaking almost uncontrollably. You swear your vision whites out because you don’t think you’ve ever come so hard in your fucking life.

You distantly hear Aaron grunt your name, feel him fuck into you desperately and erratically. He lets go of your throat, you secretly already miss the weight of his hand, and he clutches at your hips as he chases his own orgasm. It doesn’t take long for his hips to stutter, coming into you with a guttural moan that sends a shiver down your back. He grinds his hips into you, like he’s making sure he’s giving you every last drop he has, and the thought has you whimpering.

You stay like that as both of you catch your breath. Your thighs and hips are starting to ache uncomfortably, pussy sore in a way where you know you’ll be feeling it tomorrow, but you watch the way Aaron runs his hand through his hair to get it out of his eyes so he can lean in to kiss you, and it’s all worth it.

He pulls out slowly, dick twitching half-way inside of you when you moan at the empty feeling. You feel his come instantly start to drip out of you and onto the seats, and the dangerous glint in Aaron’s eyes has you squirming, heat licking up your back.

“Are you okay?” he asks, leaning over to open the console and hopefully rummage around for a hidden towel. You hope he doesn’t pull out old and scratchy fast-food napkins like the ones you have crammed in your glove compartment.

You laugh breathlessly, slowly dropping your legs down to dangle a bit more comfortably. “More than okay.”

He comes back with a pouch of wet wipes, slightly used, and you’re surprised at the sudden twinge of jealousy you feel when you imagine why he has wet wipes ready in his car and how many other women he’s fucked in his expensive car.

He’s thorough in cleaning you up, chest rapidly rising and falling as he continues to catch his breath. As if he can read your mind, he looks up at you curiously with no trace of the stern persona he had when he was fucking you mindlessly. You had thought you hid your jealousy well, however you find yourself glaring at the wipes in his hand.

He gives you an achingly sweet smile, a surprise dimple making an appearance, and leans over you where you’re still sweating all over his backseat. “Every parent has wet wipes in their car.”

You feel your cheeks heat at being caught, that he somehow knew you were drowning in the sudden onslaught of jealousy clawing up your chest. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.” He throws the used wipes on the floor to pick up later, and then he’s wrestling around with you until you’re somehow laying on top of him across the seats, both of your legs bunched up and tangled together.

You’re sticky and sweaty, and Aaron has nearly sweated through his polo, causing it to cling to his chest in a way that has you wanting to put your hands all over him. So, you do, running your palms up and down him so intently that it gets a chuckle out of him.

“All of your clothes are still on.”

“Well, I was a little busy.” Oh, he’s a little cheeky after sex.

Both of you are laying in comfortable silence as you still catch your breaths, Aaron moreso than you, when his phone goes off where it hasn’t moved from the phone mount. The bright light causes you to squint, and you turn to press your face into Aaron’s chest with a whine. “Don’t pick up.”

“Alright, alright,” Aaron says despite him making no moves anyway to get up. He cranes his neck to get a good look at the caller ID and you can feel his body stiffen. “It’s your dad.”

And just like that, a bucket of cold water is splashed over you. You just had sex with your dad’s best friend in his expensive Range Rover in some sketchy rest stop.

You must have froze as well because then Aaron is running a hand up and down your back, making you shiver. He’s trying to comfort you, you know that, but honestly your thoughts immediately melt into other things that rely on his hands on you. Like pushing your head down between his legs. Maybe he’s right and you really are insatiable.

“Come on, let’s get going.”

The car ride the rest of the way to the hotel is mostly silent between you two, the only noises being the wind deafening you and your hair slapping into your face since he rolled the windows down.

To air out the stench of sex in the car, you remember.

You would almost think Aaron was mad, the way he didn’t try to make conversation with you, and you knew that you would be spiraling if it wasn’t for the fact that he held your hand in his lap the entire time.

You probably wouldn’t be much for conversation anyway—you’re already trying not to let your mind race about what you were going to do.

You’re only here for a couple of weeks, you go to school across the country, and technically, this was only supposed to be a summer fling. You don’t technically need to tell your dad about what happened.

You turn to look at Aaron, unabashedly. His hair is still tussled, thanks to your fingers, and there’s sweat beading along his forehead from the summer humidity. You stare at the sharp slope of his nose, the way the lights from the highway reflect in his dark eyes, and you’re suddenly wracked with the feeling of not wanting to let him go.

He squeezes your hand when he notices you staring for too long. He turns to you, most likely seeing the desperation on your face. He misinterprets it, thinking you’re running over what you’re going to tell your father over and over in your head. He has no idea that you want to keep seeing him, that you want to make this work somehow, whatever is between you two.

“We’ll figure it out.”

When you notice his gentle smile, the methodical way he runs his thumb over the back of your hand, you believe him.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x female reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner fic #dbf!hotch #aaron hotchner smut #dbf!aaron hotchner #mine #hiiiii #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader smut

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cathnospam · 4 months ago

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Continuing from This Drabble about you and your BF Katsuki answering sex questions about each other<3

Black Female Reader x Katsuki Bakugo , mentions of panty stealer bakugo, slight smut???

“Okay uh, how do you rate your partners kisses 1-10.”

“9”

“9?! Muthafucka I taught you how to kiss—-“

“You always push back first like you can’t handle it, it pisses me off.”

“I like breathing.”

“So.”

Rolling your eyes, “I was ganna say 12/10, but since you’re being a bitch—“

“So, 12/10 got it. Next.”

“Does your partner have any dirty secrets?…oooh.—-”

“M’going to bed.” Bakugo immediately gets up to take off his tank top seeing as he was going to sleep in your dorm tonight, but as the shirt clung to his semi flexing biceps you grab him, “No, y/n.”

“Oh c’mon boy are the secrets THAT bad?! I’ll tell you mine at least—-fuck.” He considers for a moment. Curiosity weighing heavier than his will to sleep at the moment, “You ass.”

“What did you call me—“

“I think…” You place two fingers on his soft lips, “One secret is that……….one time, when you were out on work study you left your black tank top in my room….and….i missed you….and i was ovulating so i….put on your tank top and ….played…with myself.”

The air was thick, it’s as if Bakugo took it as he grew closer to you while speaking, there wasn’t much to make him speechless but dammit that’s a new one.

Fuck. That’s actually more sexier than he wants to admit right now. He crossed his legs, hoping a tent won’t form in his grey sweats and noticed your eyes wandering at every part of your room but his eyes.

“I…moaned your name too.”

“You…you damn….pervert fuck—-“ His voice almost broke into a groan, looking away also embarrassed you knew he didn’t mean it in a malicious way from how he looked back at you, Adam’s Apple bobbing up and down, “Stop acting fucking weird. You did it. Who cares. As long as it was MY name you moaned.”

“Of course dumbass. I only want you…”

Bakugo felt his ears burning, already annoyed he was flustered once he groaned, “I took your panties once.”

“What?”

“Why the hell would you wear that lacy frilly shit during class in that short ass skirt? It’s like you want those idiots to see you.”

“That CANNOT be the reason—“

“IT IS. If you’re ganna wear ‘em wear them IN OUR dorms you dumbass.”

“…well.”

“Well what.” He pouts.”

“Well where the fuck are they I like wearing them after I get waxed.”

Bakugo hesitates, not wanting to actually answer mainly because he doesn’t just have ONE pair of panties. But a few. “I’ll show you later.”

“Tch.” You mock his sounds, “Ever use ‘em to masturbate?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

You giggle, you can only imagine what his perverted ass has done with them. And the last time you seen them was in your hamper so you assumed they got lost somewhere in the laundry. Honestly it’s kinda….interesting he’s telling you this.

“Does your partner have any no’s during?”

“I’m not calling you a bitch.”

“Aw.” You sarcastically sigh, “Why.”

“Why the hell would I call you out your name—“

“You called me your slut yesterday.”

“…Slip of the tongue.” He crosses his arms like a child, making you giggle. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologize it was hot.” You say adjusting yourself closer to him, you could actually feel the heat from his body rise as you kept speaking, “It’s fine. Degrading isn’t something I’d need from you anyway.”

“I don’t get that kink, who the hell likes to be disrespected by someone they…are y’know with.”

You shrug, you understand why certain people have kinks, but it’s hard to put in words for someone like Katsuki. He’s a very simple man when it comes to relationships. Almost traditional and old fashion which is what charmed you the most about him. He never even called you a bitch before in any sense nor has he ever told you anything that would genuinely hurt your feelings, “Some people are just into that.” You concluded, your boyfriend looks at you with an unresolved look, but accepts it anyway. Weirdos.

“I wouldn’t hit you either. Like in the face or anything. Only on the ass”

“Good because my face is too pretty for that.” Katsuki smirks at you, you’re absolutely right you’re too pretty for him to hit.

“Nobody else.”

“Hm?”

“…Nobody else is allowed to join us.”

Squinting for a moment his statement clicks , “OH! No threesomes and stuff. Oh yeah of course not. If I see you with any other girl I’ll kill you and her.”

Katsuki swallowed his laughter, masking it with a clearing of his throat, your eyes not tearing from his making sure he knew you were serious. You don’t scare him typically, but he knew the moments when you genuinely had an aura about you that screamed “Fucking try to play with me.” And this was one of those moments. “You look at me like I didn’t just fucking say —“

“I know.” Your voice cracked a little trying to cover up the jealous tone you were about to spew out. Just the thought of Katsuki touching another girl had you upset.

Little did you know it was the same for him with you.

“Anything else?”

“I won’t do race or age play.”

“What the hell…?—-“

“Well I am black so obviously no and then you have age play which is just a cute way of saying you like children—-“

“WHAT?”

You pause to cover up his loud mouth with your small hands, “SSSHH! Before we get in trouble again!…anyway moving on!”

Not wanting to argue, he takes your laptop and smacks your hand away, “What is something you DONT like that your partner does during sex.”

“Take my laptop away from me.”

He strikes you and look, he doesn’t say anything verbally but he says “quit fucking around” with his eyes, admitting defeat that he won’t give you back your laptop you sit back and think for a moment.

“Eh…Oh! I don’t like that you won’t let me ride you.”

Damn it.

He had a feeling you’d say that too. Bakugo scratches the back of his neck roughly while letting out a groan. Throwing his head back a little he side eyes you, “Why do you wanna be on top so bad. I’m the man I should—“

“It’s not even about dominating you or anything you can still fuck me from below, ‘Suki. You’ll still have all the power.”

Bakugo has seen porn videos where the guy fucks up into the girl. Even some where the man is straight up holding the girl up and pumps her full. It’s so erotic he couldn’t even finish the video, but even though he enjoys vanilla sex, he is quite certain riding him isn’t too far off from what he likes.

Besides he loves having your tits bounce in his face and feeling your nipples practically bounce into his mouth makes up of great reason.

“…Fine. But when I’M ready.”

“Yaaaayy mkay….now what is something YOU don’t like about me.”

“You’re ganna be pissed.”

Your smiles immediately transforms into a straighten line, “Uh oh.”

“I don’t …like when you cum too fast.”

It was a bit embarrassing yet confusing to hear. Clearly that means he’s doing a good job so why —

“Because I want to keep fucking you.” Bakugo speaks up as if he read your inner thoughts, all you could do was blink a few times at him, and he continued more, “Even though I don’t cum until after you do which isn’t that long, sometimes I wanna keep going. I’ve timed it, the moment I start fucking you sex only last about 6-8 minutes.”

“That’s average. Some people are 2-3 minutes.” You spoke with an unimpressed and deadpanned voice mostly because this sounded ludicrous to you and Bakugo seen it in your expression causing him to sigh in annoyance. “Shouldn’t your ego be filled knowing you make me cum fast?”

“Yeah, but —-fuck sue me for wanting more. And don’t say some shit like I’m a nympho or some shit because that’s fucking disgusting and those freaks are usually only in a relationship to fuck—-“

“OKAY OKAY CALM DOWN, BOY!” His voice kept getting louder and louder and you refused to have another write up because you have him in your dorm past curfew…again. “I get it though.”

“You want to be overstimulated.”

What? Bakugo scrunched yo his eyebrows. He never heard that term before used when talking about sex.

“Overstimulated means …well… showing you is actually better than telling you.”

In an instant Bakugo’s furrowed eyebrows soften, his gaze transitioned from confused to darker and subtly lustful. You felt the vibe of the room change so quickly you practically had to clear your throat to make him focus again.

“So the next question…”

“Nah, show me.” He firmly shuts your computer and places it on your nightstand. Arms still crossed, “Show me what that word means or should I look up a video and figure it out myself.”

“….y’can.”

It wasn’t ideal for your evening to end like this with him, but it’s just you and your slightly horny boyfriend watching porn videos.

What’s the worse that can happen?

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sugawhaaa · 2 months ago

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SKZ HEADCANONS

The type of women they like in bed...

Warnings//genre:: SMUT, shower sex (Hyunjin), cowgirl (Changbin, Felix), BDSM (minho) Collar (Minho) creampie (Chan)

Pairing:: ot8!Skz x fem!reader

A/N:: so I started with ateez and now I'm done skz should I do...a txt version 🤨 or maybe piwon 🤭

Skz masterlist:: 🍒

Taglist:: @weallneednamjesus @strykdsstanot8

Emotional, a girl who will let him take care of her in many ways

Chan has many different sides to him in bed but no matter what, he loves to cherish his partner. He wants to be able to treat her like a princess or a slut or just his girlfriend.

"You're so pretty like this," Bangchan groans before leaning down to kiss your neck, his hips never losing their pace. You can't even reply because you're so focused on the sensation of his fat cock stretching you wide open. "How you feeling baby?" He tucks a strand of your hair back. You let out a choked moan as you try to form words.

"Good," You claw at his back as you struggle to speak. "Faster please," You whine and Chan smiles shyly.

"Already?" He asks in a teasing and genuine way.

"Yes please! Fuck, I can take it," You assure him and he grins before snapping his hips against yours. The room fills with a symphony of screams of pleasure and the clap skin on skin. As Bangchan pounds into you he leans back, holding your hips, to admire your body. The way you squirm and twitch, the way you pant and moan and reddened face, the way tears of raw desire build in your eyes, and it's all because of him.

Obedient, a woman that'll listen to him and enjoy it

Minho loves to be in control during sex but he doesn't want his partner thinking their opinions aren't valid. He needs his woman to understand that this is his way of showing love and that he just wants to love on her...hard.

"C'mon, look at me baby," Minho says as he lifts your chin up to look at him, however the vibrator pressed against your core drew your attention more. "You need to keep being good for me alright?" He tugs on your collar slightly to draw your attention. You nod with a little whine and Minho smirks, his power over you shining through.

"C-Can I cum yet?" You ask between heavy breaths, the band in your stomach tightening its knot.

"Soon baby, hold on as long as you can," He then leans into your ear, his breath ghosting over your ear. "The longer you last the greater your reward babygirl," Minho smiles before bringing a hand up to your breast, cupping it in the soft lingerie. "shh, you've been doing so good," He says before smirking. His opposite hand creeps down to your vibrator, ticking it up a few setting, the vibrations now more intense than ever. You squeal and arch your back, your head falling back as well. Minho chuckles darkly at your reaction. "So cute~"

Comfortable, a girl who will make him feel safe and relaxed

Changbin has rough appearance and exterior but everyone knows he's very vulnerable inside. He needs to find someone who will keep that vulnerability safe, especially when indulging in something like sex.

It was moments like these you really cherished with Changbin. Your bodies nearly bare and pressed up against each other, your tongues intertwined as your hands frantically search for a place to rest. Changbin holds the back of your head, his fingers sorting through your hair, as he hungrily kisses your lips.

"I need you," You pull back to announce and Changbin smiles shyly, looking down.

"Whatever you need," He kisses your cheek as his hands trail down to your ass, picking you up and lifting you higher up his lap. His mouth finds yours again as he messily helps you take off your panties but you're too impatient to let him take off his underwear, instead you grind against his boner. He moans quietly, his brows furrowed at the new sensation. "Wow that feels..." His hands fall to your sides, relaxingly resting on your hips. "Keep doing that baby and I might cum in my clothes," He chuckles as he tosses his head back.

Gentle, a woman that will put care into every touch

Hyunjin has a frail heart and he can be a little sensitive to such intense feelings such as lust. He needs someone to calm him and occasionally steer him during sex.

"Yes fuck, are you slipping baby?" Hyunjin grunts as he slows his hips, making sure the wet surface wasn't causing you any risks.

"No, I'm okay, keep going," You pant softly and rest your head against the shower wall again. Each one of his thrusts was deep and passionate, the pace was slow but the strength was there. You bounce against the wall with each pound and Hyunjin comes around to hug you, pulling you off the wall like a starfish.

"Is...Is this position okay?" He asks shyly as his wet hair clings to your shoulders, his chin resting on your shoulder.

"God yes," You moan and throw your head back. He begins to thrust into you again, hitting up deep in that one spot that makes you scream. Hyunjin focuses hard as he watches your body from over your shoulder. "Yes right there, keep going," You moan, subtly praises him. Hyunjin has to hide his smile as he fucks you faster, hoping to receive more praise later.

Passionate, a woman who will bask in his presence

Felix has a bit of a clingy side, but it's not as much physical as it is emotional. He needs that person release on especially when it's his love.

"Yeah, yeah, just like that baby," Felix encourages in his thick Aussie accent but a hint of something else lingers in his voice; perhaps lust, hunger or love? His hands stay fastened to your hips as you hop on his lap, his cock slipping in and out of your warmth. Felix rests his head in the crook of your neck as he pants heavily, his hot breath ghosting over your damply sweaty skin. He lets out a low growl before tossing his head back. "Oh yeah, harder baby, c'mon bounce on me," He smirks softly at the lewdness of his words.

"I can't," You breathe out softly and Felix sits up again, holding your hips with more strength.

"You can babygirl," He kisses your jaw before assisting in lifting your body up then back down on him. His cock hit imaginably deep very hard, making you moan loudly, eyes wide. "That's it, feels good doesn't it?"

Needy, a girl who will match his constant need for relief

Han is undoubtedly clingy and loves the feeling of hands and attention on him. Jisung needs a girl who won't mind his constant need and ache for her. This fact transfers into the bed as well, he gets aroused easily, especially with physical stimulation, and he needs a partner will understand and care for his needs.

"Baby..." Han whispers as you peacefully sleep. He gently shakes your shoulder and you startle awake, forcing your eyes open. "I'm sorry," Jisung instantly regrets waking you and hides his face in the plush white sheets.

"What's wrong?" You ask groggily as you prop yourself up with your elbows. As your eyes adjust to the lighting you notice Han looks quite distressed; his eyebrows are curled upward, his lips swollen and red, his eyes glossy and his face and hair damp from presumably sweat. "Is everything okay?" You sit up, alerted by his appearance.

"Yeah but I um..." He blushes and looks away, ashamed of his behavior. "I had a wet dream and I've been trying to get off but..." He bites his lip before looking at you. He lets the plump skin between his teeth go with a sigh. "I need your help," He whines and your heart melts at his puffy cheeks and doe eyes.

"Of course, what do you need?" You watch as he sits up beside you, the blanket falling to reveal his broad chest.

"Anything...your hands, your touch, your voice, just be here with me," He whines as he extends a shaking hand toward you. "I need you," He caresses your jaw before pulling you into a deep kiss.

Patient, a girl who can wait for and understand him

Seungmin feels a little conflicted about his sex life. There's times when he's really into it and other times he can't find the lust to indulge in. He needs a girl who will respect his boundaries and understand his conflicting emotions.

Seungmin lays back on the bed after a long day with hands tucked behind his head, a thoughtful look on his face. As you put away your laundry you notice his stern expression. "You look scary when you're thinking," You smile, your voice light hearted. "What's got you thinking so hard?" You ask sincerely, assuming he's stressing about work. You set aside your laundry and sit next to him. Seungmin tenses as you come closer.

"Not sure...I feel," He looks away, pausing for a moment. "I feel like I wanna have sex but I'm so tired. My body feels weak from working," He groans as he props his head back, his arms now limp at his sides.

"That's okay," You smile, trying to assure him that he's feeling normal.

"It's annoying," He grumbles with a little pout. He shifts his hips and a blush creeps up his neck. "Could you...help me?" Seungmin asks hesitantly before making eye contact.

"Of course, lay down," You push his chest down softly, encouraging him to relax. As you do so you notice the throbbing tent in his jeans; you tilt your head in curiosity. "Is this what's been bothering you?" You smirk softly and he looks away from you with a slight pout.

Daring, a girl who will take the lead and follow his lead

Jeongin has a switch in his sexuality. Sometimes he wants to be on top, be mean, be hard, be in control and other times he wants to be hurt, broken and rebuilt as someone else's. He needs a lady who will be able to do both: fold for him and fold him.

"What's it gonna be tonight?" Jeongin says as he kicks his feet up on the bed, his elbows propped up to hold his jaw. He watches as you walk around the bedroom, doing chores, while he patiently waits for you to finish and indulge in some lust. "Maybe you'll let me bend you over the bed or desk?" He says with a devilish smirk before rolling onto his back, his legs now crossed. "then let me fuck you into the wall of the shower for round two," He tilts his head as he watches you get flustered by his words, your focus fading as you brush your hair. "Or would you rather pull out the sex toys and use me until I cry?" Jeongin just kept egging you on until you reply.

"Bending over sounds nice," You smile with red cheeks as you sit beside him on the bed. He instantly pulls you closer by your hips, setting you in his lap. He nuzzles his face into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"I was hoping you'd let me fuck you tonight," He flicks his tongue out to snake around your ear, making your body shiver with excitement.

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shina913 · 2 months ago

Text

A Very Patient Man | LJH

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie

Word count: 4.6k words

Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.

A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜

It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.

However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.

“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”

Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”

“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.

“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”

You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”

He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”

You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”

“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.

“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”

He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.

“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”

His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”

“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.

He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.

“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”

Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.

You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?

You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.

He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”

The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.

You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”

“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”

You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...

You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.

“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”

“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.

“It’s getting late.”

Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.

“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”

He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.

“Alright. If you’re sure—”

“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.

He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.

That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.

********************************************

A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.

After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.

You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.

Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.

After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.

The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.

Finally, he’s had enough.

“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.

“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”

You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.

“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.

“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.

“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.

You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”

He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”

You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”

“What about it?”

“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”

His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”

He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”

You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.

“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.

You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”

“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”

His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.

“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”

You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.

He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.

“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.

You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”

He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”

Your cheeks flush at his compliment.

Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.

Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. “How are you so chill about all this?”

He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”

“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.

You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”

His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.

********

You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?

“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”

“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”

You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”

“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”

You nod.

“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”

You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.

“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.

“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”

When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.

“Maybe we could start with kissing?”

“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.

You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.

When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.

Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.

Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.

He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”

“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.

“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”

You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”

“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”

Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.

“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.

“Play with them.”

His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.

He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.

His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.

You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.

His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.

One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.

His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.

He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.

It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.

“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”

His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.

“Kiss me,” you choked out, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.

Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.

He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.

“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.

“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”

“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.

You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.

He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.

You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.

You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.

“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”

He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”

It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.

After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.

When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.

“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”

“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”

“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.

You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.

“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.

You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”

“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.

With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.

You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.

“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.

He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.

You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.

“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.

“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.

“You…s-sure…?”

You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.

Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.

“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”

He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”

********

After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.

“Are you okay?”

You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”

“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”

“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”

He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”

You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”

He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.

When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.

This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.

As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.

“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.

You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”

He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”

“You think so?”

He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”

You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”

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hllywdwhre · 11 months ago

Text

Revenge - Tommy Shelby

Summary: Reader takes personal offense over Sabini’s attack on Tommy

Warnings: arranged marriage, graphic depictions of violence, reader leaves a message written in blood, smut, creampie, light degrading, oral smut (f receiving), overstim, p in v, let me know if I missed any

Notes: I made this text post about protective reader and decided to write it lmfao. I want Tommy with a feral woman. Thank you to @slut4thebroken for proof reading, encouragement, and suggestions💖

MDNI, 18+ only

You weren’t quite sure how it had happened.

Scratch that.

You knew exactly how it had happened.

Your father and Tommy had worked out a deal when Sabini had first started trying to intimidate your father. A bride in exchange for protection and both of them walked away with extra allies when the inevitable war against Sabini broke out. You’d protested the marriage at first, screaming that you were more than just a political pawn for your father to sell when he needed help, but it went through anyway.

You had to admit, it wasn’t the worst thing that could’ve happened. Sure, Tommy was distant and seemed obsessed with work, but you knew you could’ve ended up in a much worse situation. He treated you with respect, never let you open a door on your own if he was around, always had a protective hand rested in the small of your back, and… the sex was great.

Perhaps the thing you appreciated the most, was that he didn’t expect you to become the housewife you had feared you would be reduced to. You were your father’s only child, meaning when he died, you would become leader of his gang. You were a gangster the same way Tommy was and he seemed to realize that and respect it. You helped out with the daily runnings of the Peaky Blinders and helped with the daily runnings of your father’s gang at the same time. They both recognized your potential and weren’t afraid to use it.

It wasn’t until you were sitting in a family meeting about a year after your marriage that you realized you had grown to feel more than just okay with the marriage.

Tommy was a closed off individual and through the entire year you had been married, you felt like you were just starting to finally get to know the real him. You never pried because he never pried in your life. If you had general questions, neither of you were afraid to ask them, but anything more was left up for the person to tell. You had more questions than answers still, specifically about the matching scars on his cheeks, but you didn’t dare ask. He hadn’t asked about the scar that ran from your right shoulder blade down to your spine, so you didn’t ask about his scars.

It was a common occurrence for Esme, Ada, and Polly to sit with you at one of the desks in the betting shop, whispering things to you during family meetings to fill in any gaps and answer any questions you may have had.

“Alfie has informed me that the Sicilians are being provided aid by Sabini, in the form of cars and housing,” Tommy started, causing Arthur to let out a loud groan of frustration.

Before you could get dragged into hearing any more of it, you turned your head to Esme who was sitting next to you.

“Sabini’s a prick, I know that, but what has he done to us?” You asked quietly, your eyes still flickering back-and-forth between Tommy and the rest of his family as they spoke about what to do next.

Esme began explaining exactly what Sabini had done. How he and five other men came after Tommy in the dark of night, how he’d ripped out a tooth, sliced his cheeks, and beat him to an inch of his life.

The rage that settled inside of you was your first hint that you had grown to genuinely care for Tommy as more than just a friend and (amazing) fuck buddy. Your jaw remained clenched and set for the rest of the meeting, but as soon as the meeting was called to end, you wiped the look from your face and forced a calm expression to take over.

You stood up and walked over to Tommy, forcing a small smile to your lips,

“I’m not really feeling all that well. You go with your brothers for a drink, I’m just going to head back home, okay?” You said, meeting his eyes so he wouldn’t have a reason to not believe you.

Tommy’s eyebrows furrowed together as he tried to look for any sign you were lying. You had been fine that morning and fine two hours prior when you sat down for the meeting, but he had no reason to believe you were lying so he simply nodded, placed a hand on the small of your back to pull you closer to him, and kissed your forehead.

“I won’t be out long. Ask Frances for anything you need, okay, love?”

You nodded and the forced smile turned to a genuine one,

“I will, promise,” you told him before stepping away from him and waving goodbye to the rest of the family.

Yes. You had truly gotten lucky when it came to who you had been forced to marry.

The entire ride back to the Arrow House, you were silent and going over your plan in your head. You knew you’d have to earn Tommy’s trust back after this, but you didn’t particularly care. You were a force of nature on your best day. You were lethal when you were angry.

Once you arrived back, you immediately headed upstairs to yours and Tommy’s shared room. The marriage may have started off with the two of you in separate rooms, “I’m called the devil, but that doesn’t mean I’m some sort of monster. You can sleep in your own room until you’re comfortable sharing a bed,” but it didn’t take more than a couple weeks for you to eventually join him in bed.

Damn those blue eyes, full lips, and that jawline.

You grabbed a small bag and threw the first set of clothes you laid hands on into it, then, much more carefully, a dress. You grabbed everything else you needed and headed to Tommy’s office next.

I’ll be back soon. I’m sorry for lying, but I’ll be back.

You signed the note and left it in the center of his desk where you knew he would see it, held down by his ashtray.

As quickly as you had entered the house, you left it, getting right back into the car with the driver Tommy had employed for you. You told him the name of a hotel in London that you knew was just outside of anyone’s territory.

The drive seemed to pass by too quickly and soon you were saying goodbye to the driver and sending him home for the night. It was barely 7 in the evening when you got up to your room.

“If there is a God, please let me get through this. I’ll make it up to you… somehow,” you said quietly.

The beading on the dress swayed loudly around your body as you pulled the dress on. The pins in your hair seemed to be extra noticeable against your scalp. The straps on your shoes pressed into your skin more than usual. The blade held against your thigh and hidden by your dress seemed to refuse to warm up. Your left hand felt entirely too light with your ring missing.

You knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you. You’d worn this outfit before and it had always turned heads, which is exactly what you wanted.

You needed Sabini to notice you.

You greeted the cab driver politely as you stepped in and ignored the way his eyes seemed to follow you a bit too closely.

The doors of the club were held open for you and you made your way to the bar and took a seat, knowing you were just playing a waiting game now.

You could feel eyes on you. The wife of Thomas Shelby in Sabini’s club, hours away from Birmingham, far out of Peaky Blinders territory or her father’s territory. You stuck out like a sore thumb, even if you would have blended in during any other scenario.

It felt like an eternity passed before you finally saw the man that made your blood boil, but one glance at the clock above the bar told you it hadn’t even been an hour.

“You seem lost. I thought we had made it clear that your kind weren’t welcomed here,” Sabini said once he was in front of you.

A charming smile graced your lips and you looked up at him,

“My kind?” You questioned, playing innocent.

“Yes. Your kind. You’re the wife of Thomas Shelby and I don’t appreciate him ignoring the last warning I gave him and sending you-“

“I wasn’t sent here,” you stopped him, lifting your left hand and pushing a piece of hair that hadn’t fallen back behind your ear, “and I’m not really a Shelby or a Blinder, am I?”

His eyes were drawn to your hand and noticed the lack of a ring you wore and he quirked an eyebrow at you.

“Is that so? I was under the impression the two of you were lovebirds.”

You pulled your bottom lip between your lips and looked away, trying to come off as shy. When you looked back up to him, you hoped the look on his face meant he was intrigued and believing you.

“Perhaps we could talk about it somewhere else… somewhere private?” You asked him, batting your eyelashes as you did so.

Gods help you. The smirk he gave you made your stomach twist and you wanted nothing more than to wipe it off his face, but patience was something you’d adopted a lot of.

“Allow me to show you to my office then,” he said, offering you a hand which you forced yourself to take.

He guided you through the club and towards the back. Some amount of luck seemed to be on your side as his office was behind the stage and provided some cover for any noise you might make. Even more so as you noticed a window just large enough for you to be able to crawl out of.

Once the door was shut behind you, he sat down behind his desk and motioned for you to take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side.

“Trouble in paradise, I take it,” Sabini said as he poured you both a drink.

“It was never paradise to begin with,” you replied, thanking him for the drink and taking a sip.

You had grown used to Tommy’s Irish whiskey and the bourbon he gave you wasn’t nearly as smooth going down.

“Was it not? From what I’ve heard, you two have quite the fairytale. Gang leader’s daughter married off to another gang leader, uniting two empires.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” you lied.

“And how do you see it?”

“A desperate father sold off his daughter to a desperate gang leader in an attempt for the both of them to gain more power and disregarded the woman’s wishes,” you replied simply, shrugging your shoulders.

“And so you’ve come to London for what?” Sabini questioned, wanting to hear you say it.

“Because I think we can help each other, Mr. Sabini,” you said, downing the rest of the bourbon and standing up.

His eyes followed your movements, his eyes trailing up your body before resting on your legs again.

“And how do you think we could help each other?” He asked.

You moved to stand in front of him, placing one leg over the side of his and straddled him, placing your arms around his neck.

“They trust me, Mr. Sabini. They don’t suspect me of anything,” you started. The shiver of disgust that rolled up your spine due to his hands trailing up the back of your thighs was one he apparently took as excitement as he gripped slightly at the backs of them, “I can tell you everything and, in return, I get out of my marriage once they’re all gone.”

“They don’t even realize the ticking time bomb they’ve got in their fingertips, do they?” He asked and a chuckle left your lips as a genuine smirk took over.

“They don’t…” you said, trailing your hands down his chest and then up your thigh, trying to make the move appear seductive. Your fingers wrapped around the hilt of your knife, “and neither do you, apparently.”

His eyes widened and he realized the trap he had walked into at the same time as you pressed the blade of the knife to his neck.

“I’d say that if you ever threaten my husband or our family again, you’ll regret it, but you won’t be,” you told him, unable to resist pausing for a touch of dramatic effect before adding on, “Never fuck with a Shelby.”

In the next second, you were quickly slicing the knife across his neck and flinching back as his blood coated you.

You knew your next move was morbid, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It had been morbid for him and five other men to attack your husband when he was alone. It was morbid for him to rip out his tooth. It had been morbid for him to slice his cheeks. It was just as morbid for you to quickly and quietly clear off his desk, dip your fingers into his blood, and leave a bloodied message across his desk.

Revenge is a scorned Shelby

As soon as the message was written, you grabbed one of the coats from the coat rack and slipped it on, then crawled out of the window. The coat was long enough to cover all of the bloodied mess that was now your dress.

Sabini is dead.

That seemed to be the only thing you could think of as you were driven back to the Arrow House. It wasn’t the first time you had killed a man and you knew it wouldn’t be last.

But you hadn’t told anyone about this time. You hadn’t told anyone your plan, where you were going, or why you were doing it. You had also just started a war.

You weren’t surprised to see almost every light in the house still on when you arrived, and you made sure to slip the cab driver a little extra for the long drive.

You hadn’t risked staying in London longer than you needed to. You had gone into your hotel room, grabbed your bag, and promptly left, only taking the time to slip your wedding ring back on when you were in the cab.

When you stepped into the house, Tommy was in the hallway. All he saw as you stepped in the door was you, in another man’s coat, your wedding ring still on your finger, but your hair and makeup done much differently than it had been you had left.

You stayed silent as you stared at him with nervousness written on your face.

He put out his cigarette and quirked an eyebrow at you, a silent prompt for you to explain yourself.

Your silent explanation was to undo the tie on the coat and let it fall to the floor, revealing your blood stained dress.

“I need a fucking drink for this one,” Tommy grumbled, motioning for you to follow him. He guided you to his office and poured both of you a drink, handed you your glass, then sat down in his office chair. “What the fuck did you do?”

“Do you want the short version or the long version?” You asked, a smirk on your face as he looked up at where you still stood across the room.

Despite himself, he couldn’t help but chuckle and shrug his shoulders,

“Humor me. Short version first,” he told you.

“About a year ago I got married, and tonight I started a war.”

Tommy leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and running a hand over his face, “Long version.”

“About a year ago, I got married. Over the past year my husband has been nothing but a respectful gentleman, making it nearly impossible for me not to fall for him when you combine it with his fucking blue eyes that could bring the devil to his knees,” you started, feeling the hint of a blush creep into your cheeks, which you knew he noticed by the way his eyes flicked to your cheeks and then back to your eyes, “then today we had a meeting with his family where he mentioned Sabini. When I asked, his sister-in-law told me about what Sabini had done to him. About how my husband had been beaten to an inch of his life and brutalized, leaving him permanently scarred, and I knew I had to make the bastard pay.

“So, I lied to my husband and said I didn’t feel well. I went home, packed a bag, left him a note saying I’d be back, and went to London. I rented a hotel room where I changed into a fancy dress and did my hair and makeup, then I wrapped a knife to my thigh and slid my wedding ring into my bag and went to The Eden Club. News of a Shelby woman spread quickly and Sabini showed up to question me within an hour. I lied to Sabini, told him that I didn’t want to be a Shelby and that I had never wanted to be one. He took me back to his office and I sat on his lap and made him think I was about to cheat on my husband when I slit his throat and made sure he knew it was because of what he’d done to my husband. I left a message on his desk, went back to the hotel, grabbed my bag, and then headed back to our house.”

Silence filled the room for a long moment as Tommy stared at you. His eyes were unreadable as he watched you.

“What did the message say?” He suddenly asked.

“Revenge is a scorned Shelby.”

“Nothing about the Peaky Blinders?” He asked curiously, tilting his head slightly.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It wasn’t Peaky business,” you answered confidently, watching him just as closely as he watched you as he stood from his chair and came to stand in front of you.

“Was it not?” He questioned, taking the untouched glass of whiskey from your hand and setting it on the desk before turning back to stare you down.

“No. It was Shelby business, but not Peaky business.”

“Explain.”

“He didn’t just harm a Peaky Blinder. He harmed a Shelby, my Shelby.” Your gaze was unwavering as you held eye contact with him. You wanted him to know you meant your words. He was yours, and the protective touches on your back when you were in public and the way he intimidated and glared at any man who tried approaching you was all the proof you needed to know that you were his.

“So I’m your Shelby?” He asked as he took a step towards you and continued to do so until you pressed against the office door.

“Yes.”

“And that means you’re mine?” He questioned, his hands now pressed against the wall on either side of your head.

You could feel that you were walking into some sort of trap, but you didn’t have a way out of it right now. All you could do was be honest.

“Yes.”

“Then you should know something about what it means to be mine.”

“What’s that?” You asked, your breathing getting shorter as he lowered his face so it was level with yours.

In a second his hands were on your waist and he had you picked up against the wall with legs instinctively wrapping around his hips.

“My Shelby is to never come home wearing another man’s coat again,” he said, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You don’t know what reaction you had expected from him, but being pinned to his office door and him kissing you hadn’t been one you had thought of. Your shock wore off after half a second and you returned the kiss as your arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close.

“You’re not mad?” You asked against his lips.

“At you starting a war?” He questioned, leaning down and beginning to trail kisses hastily down your neck.

“Yes,” you replied, leaning your head back to give him more access.

“Livid,” he said with no hint of joking in his voice.

“This is quite the punishment,” you replied sarcastically. A moan fell from your lips as he nipped at your pulse point.

“Oh, I’m livid,” he said, looking up at you, “but also extremely turned on at the thought of my wife slicing a man’s throat over me and coming home still covered in his blood.”

You weren’t given a chance to respond before he was kissing you again. Your hands came down to his tie, pulling it loose before starting to work at the buttons of his waistcoat.

He didn’t bother setting you down, only turned the two of you around and walked you over to the couch in the office. He laid you down on it and then pulled the waistcoat off before leaning back down between your legs and kissing you again once. His lips started trailing down your neck again while your hands went to undo the buttons of his shirt.

“Someone’s impatient tonight,” he teased as nipped at your skin again.

“You’re the one who pinned me to the door after I revealed I killed a man for you,” you replied in the same teasing tone as him. You undid the last button of his shirt and pushed the fabric off his shoulders, his undershirt following a second later.

He reached his hand to the side of your dress and unzipped it, pulling the fabric down your body while his hands grabbed hold of your underwear, stockings, and garters in the same move and pulled them off, leaving you completely naked underneath him.

He stared and looked over your body a moment longer before running his hands up your thighs and giving a gentle tap to your thigh,

“Up,” he said, causing your eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

You did as told though and sat up, leaving him enough room to lay on his back and pull you up to straddle him,

“Was killing a man not enough work?” You teased, not actually minding if he was going to have you ride him. At least it meant you wouldn’t be subjected to him teasing you when all you really wanted was for him to fuck you.

“That’s cute,” he said sarcastically, gripping your thighs and attempting to pull you further up his torso, “that’s not where you’re sitting tonight.”

The man was no stranger at using his mouth to make you see stars, but you’d never ridden his face before. You looked at him, the question obvious on your face.

“Seriously?” You asked even though you knew by his face that he was.

“Seriously. You were enough of a leader to go after Sabini, you’re enough of a leader to sit on my face. Up,” he repeated again while his grip on your thighs tried pulling you forward.

You did as you were told this time, shuffling forward until you were straddling his face. You weren’t given a choice of when to sit as his hands came to your hips and pulled you down, forcing your full weight onto his waiting mouth.

If there was one thing you were grateful for, it was Thomas’ ability to use his tongue and lips in more than just outsmarting his enemies.

His tongue trailed through your lips, his hands keeping your hips in place, while his tongue slowly explored you at first.

It had only taken a couple weeks for you to crack and make the first move on Tommy, joining him in bed one night when you’d decided you could trust him, and you’d been insatiable and addicted to him ever since, though he never complained. He’d spent the first couple times figuring out every move that made you tick and every name that made your cheeks flush and used them to his advantage at every turn.

His tongue was a gift with the way he knew exactly how to use it. He dragged it up and down between your folds, drinking in every bit of your arousal before focusing on your clit, alternating between quick flicks and long drags.

Tommy’s hands on your hips began guiding them, silently instructing you to take control. You didn’t hesitate in going along with what he wanted you to do and began rocking your hips. One of your hands trailed to his hair while your other went to lay on top of one his that gripped your hip. You hadn’t realized the volume of your moans until you felt the vibration of his moan against your clit.

Your hips jerked at the added stimulation and he hummed against you purposefully, his eyes never leaving you as your hips sped up, chasing your own high. Within moments you could feel it approaching and your grip on his hair and hand tightened, moans of his name falling from your mouth like a prayer.

“Please, fuck,” you cried, whimpers falling from your lips, “Tommy, Tommy…”

Your high crashed over you a moment later and you felt Tommy’s movements begin to slow down as you rode out your high, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you caught your breath.

You went to move off of him, but his grip on your hips tightened at the same time that his tongue started speeding up again.

Your moans of pleasure turned to whimpers of over stimulation and you squirmed against him, but he didn’t let up. Your hips jerked as you tried moving away from him, but all it did was add to the stimulation.

You could practically feel him smirking underneath you as he continued on, watching as your eyes clenched shut and you relented yourself to letting him torture you so beautifully.

If it wasn’t for the way your body was on edge from not being given any type of break after your first orgasm, you might have felt slightly ashamed at the way he was able to bring you to your second orgasm so quickly.

And then your third.

Tears were freely falling from your face when he finally slowed his movements to a stop and helped you to lay down on your back.

He trailed soft and slow kisses along your thighs and stomach to help bring you back down to earth. When his lips reconnected with yours, you returned the kiss, letting your eyes fall shut at the surprisingly tender moment.

“Next time you want to start a war, at least let me know your plans,” he said, causing you to open your eyes and be met with a smirk dancing across his lips, “and don’t doubt my punishments.”

You could’ve smacked the smirk off his face if it wasn’t for the fact he had turned your entire body into mush.

“Think you can be a good girl and handle one more?” He asked.

Your cheeks flushed at the praise and his hands moved to his belt and pants, pulling them off after you nodded your confirmation.

Once the rest of his clothes had been removed, he gently lifted your legs and positioned himself between them. He was gentle as he pushed inside you, but the smirk on his face from the way your voice cracked when you moaned was obvious.

The stretch was familiar at this point, but it didn’t mean you didn’t need the moment he gave you to adjust. When you nodded your head, he started moving.

Tommy knew your body like he knew his own after your time together. His hips immediately changed position as he started thrusting, making sure to hit the spot inside you that added to the ways your legs shook underneath him.

He leaned down and placed his elbows on either side of your head, capturing your lips in a kiss right as a moan parted through them. One of his hands came back to cradle the back of your head and his fingers tangled into your hair to keep you close to him.

His other hand went to one of your legs and pulled it up so it rested in the crook of his elbow, causing him to hit even deeper inside you.

The action caused you to let out a high pitched moan and you wrapped your arms around him. Your next moan broke the passionate kiss the two of you had shared while your nails raked down his back.

“Who do you belong to?” He asked, beginning to speed up the movements of his hips.

“Y-you,” you moaned out, your back arching underneath him.

“Say my name. Who do you belong to?” He repeated.

“Thomas Shelby,” you answered and dropped your head back.

“Good girl. You’re my fucking wife,” he moaned out. He sat up, using one hand to keep your leg up in the same position while his other hand went to your already over sensitive clit, “all mine. No other man gets to touch you, look at you, or even fucking think of you. It’s my cock that you’re whimpering over right now, and it’s the only cock you’ll ever be whimpering over again.”

“I’m yours, Tommy,” you repeated, your voice breaking as moan after moan fell from your lips.

“Then cum for me. Be a good Shelby wife and make a fucking mess on my cock just like how you made a mess of this war tonight,” he commanded.

You didn’t need any more encouragement from him as your fourth orgasm hit you, causing your back to arch again and your nails to run down his arms.

His moves start to become more sloppy and his pace sped up as he began to chase his own high, the feeling of your cunt squeezing around his cock only driving him closer to the edge.

“Want to feel you Tommy, please,” you moaned underneath him, “please, cum inside me.”

“Fuck,” he swore out. His hips pushing against yours as his high hit him and his arms came down to either side of your head again while he shoved his face into your neck, completely claiming you as his own while his cum filled you.

His hips slowed as he rode out both of your highs and your arms came to wrap around him, placing a gentle kiss on the side of his head you could reach.

Once the two of your breathing had slowed down to a normal pace, he moved to push himself up and your legs around his waist tightened along with your arms.

“Don’t. Not yet,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I’m going to crush you, love.” He placed soft kisses along your shoulders between his words as he tried warning you.

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll tell you if it’s too much,” you replied and began running your nails softly along the shaved part of his head, knowing the motion worked on him every time.

“Stubborn,” he falsely chided, but relented and relaxed back into your hold.

“Little late to the party if you’ve just worked that out.” Your reply causing both of you to chuckle. “Remind me to start more wars if it means you fuck me like that every time.”

His hand came down and gently slapped your thigh in response while a burst of quiet giggles left your lips.

“Stubborn and a brat,” he teased, sitting up again and carefully sliding out of you.

“Too bad you’re stuck with me,” you responded with a smirk.

“I don’t think of it that way,” he said as he stood up and wrapped his arms under your waist and legs before pulling you up into his arms.

“How do you think of it?” You asked him as he carried you across the hall and into your shared room.

“I think I’m lucky enough to be married to a woman who killed for me over a years-old attack even though we’d never even said that we loved each other.” He set you down in the middle of the bed before crawling in next to you and pulling you into his chest.

A bright blush rose to your face as he pointed out that you had never even said you loved each other, even though you had admitted to him earlier that you had fallen for him. You didn’t know how to reply immediately and you turned in his arms to look up at him, his arms staying locked around your waist.

He didn’t seem to expect you to reply though, because he leaned in to you, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and sweet, as if he was trying to communicate what your actions had meant to him without having the words to say it.

“I fell for you, too,” he finally admitted, “I don’t know when it happened, but I know that I realized it tonight. The panic I felt to see your note and to see you come home covered in blood. The anger I felt over seeing you another man’s jacket. The way I felt when you revealed what you had done and why…” He trailed off, looking down at you and seeming to try and memorize every part of your face, “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours and you’re mine,” you replied, leaning up to kiss him.

“I’m yours and you’re mine.”

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