#like there's just something about the way his thick cock consistently gliding in between the plushness of soft warm thighs... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sailorhyunjinz · 3 years ago

Text

~ 𝒜𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓇𝓎 ~

Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ; dom!seungmin x sub!fem!reader, piv, unprotected sex, mirror sex, established relationship, fingering, degradation, impact play, slight dacryphilia, clitoral stimulation, stomach bulge,,,, hitting it from the back LMAO (please-), hair pulling, saliva, orgasm (m/f), creampie, cum, a bit of fluff in the end oh and aftercare <3

ＷｏｒｄＣｏｕｎｔ; 3.7 k

Ｎｏｔｅ; this lil piece was inspired by this ask!! (,,, made it more cherry style,,, which means more degrading-)

also idk this reminded me of the earlier days of me making fics- i think its because its kinda short and this layout EEEEEEK-

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘰𝘧 18.

You thought you knew your boyfriend well after dating him for 3 years. In your eyes he was the most innocent person you knew, his eyes always lost whenever you joked about something remotely sexual. But when it came down to actually having sex he wasn’t the one to shy away, instead guiding you through it as if he was dancing a tango. A tango consisting of sloppy kisses and sticky sweaty bodies.

The automatic lock on the hotel door let out a small beep as the keycard was inserted, the door opening with a gentle push and greeting you inside a purple dim lit room. You smiled at your boyfriend Seungmin who grinned back at you, pulling you inside the room hastily before shutting the door behind him.

“w-woah~ minnie,,, this is so pretty, thank you!” you squealed as you looked around the room, your eyes busy scanning all the beautiful details that your boyfriend had payed attention to for your third year anniversary, everything from the flower petals on the floor to the snacks that piled up on a table by the sofa that was a distance away from the wide bed with white fluffy pillows and covers. Seungmin shrugged his shoulders, the wrinkles of his dark button up shirt creasing by the elbows as the fabric was folded up, exposing the veins that ran up his forearms. He stepped closer to your figure that was fascinated by the dark lights, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and placing his chin on the crook of your neck, giggling softly at your reaction.

“You seem to like it” he stated to which you nodded, turning your head to him and pecking him on the tip of his nose, the boy scrunching it as it tickled. “You know what I like the most?” he asked, you answering him with a simple “no?”

“The mirrors around the bed” he said in a dark voice that sent shivers down your spine, his lips dangerously close to the shell of your ear as his hot breath grazed against your cheek. You nodded in agreement, not sure what else to say if there was any time to say something before you were grabbed by the wrist and pushed down on the bed, falling back on the soft covers and pillows, your hair flying in your face. You giggled as Seungmin climbed on top of you, his face hovering above yours as he pushed the stray pieces of hair behind your ear, simply observing the beauty of you, his heart melting at how the apples of your cheeks stood out whenever you smiled brightly at him, the corners of your lips turning upwards and your eyes glittering in even the darkest of light. With two careful hands you cupped Seungmin jaw, swiping your thumbs across the supple skin of his cheekbones before he leaned down to kiss you on the lips, the boy turning his head slightly and bumping his nose against your causing the both of you two smile into the kiss, your cheeks heating up with shy arousal after his tongue slowly slips into your mouth, wet tounge gliding across the surface of yours in a languid and erotic kiss.

Sure, you’d been in bed with your boyfriend countless times but he somehow always managed to make it feel like the first. The butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, billowing out of your mouth and entering his, sharing the nervosity.

Your hands descended down his body, unbuttoning every button that ran up his shirt, revealing his upper body bit for bit. He pulled away from the kiss, standing on his knees above your lying figure, gulping as you looked up at him removing the article of clothing before you heard the familiar sound of his belt buckle clinking as he unbuckled it. Only now when he’s out of your sight to remove his tight fitting pants do you notice the reflection on the ceiling, how you can see everything so clearly whenever you are taking off your shirt, pulling it over your head and throwing it to the side of the bed, you now lying in a white bra and with your pants still on, eager to remove them in order to see what Seungmin saw every time he fucked you. You heard him snicker as your eyes was focused on the mirror, your expression changing from curious to flustered when Seungmin’s hands caressed you stomach before undoing the zipper of the pants, pulling you downwards slightly together with the pants as he took them off, tossing them together with his clothes beneath the bed, landing with a soft thud against the wooden floor. Your panties didn’t match the bra but when did they ever? The least you expected from your boyfriend was a full view of your body in a mirror but that’s what you got and you weren’t complaining.

“You already seem interested babygirl” he said, looking up into the mirror and meeting your eyes there instead of gazing at them directly. You nodded as he looked back, observing the body he loved the most in the whole wide world. How your tits sat perfectly in the soft cups of your bra and how you squirmed with your legs, rubbing your thighs together every time he spoke in that deep voice.

“Good cause that’s where you’ll be looking tonight.” he moved closer to you, sinking down his body against yours and putting his lips close to your ear, his whisper seducing you. “You’re gonna watch yourself cum.”

You froze in position, your heart beating in your throat as the wet patch on your panties grew damp. He pressed his soft lips against your again, biting your bottom lip playfully before his tongue came in contact with yours again, trailing down his hand with the tips of his fingers dancing across your skin, swiftly gliding it under the elastic of your lacy panties and running his middle finger between your folds, feeling the sticky wetness adhere to his finger. Goosebumps erupted on your skin at the sudden touch, the boy groaning at how wet you are from just his kiss, wanting to ruin you and make you nothing more but a drooling and crying mess for him. Slowly he pulled away, giggling lowly as he observed his fingertip that was clad in your sticky essence before he placed it on your lips, you automatically latching on and sucking on his finger before he added another one, your saliva mixing with the slick and dribbling out from the corner of your swollen lips. You looked him dead in the eye, the sexual tension was more than just words and actions, it loomed around the two of you like a thick cloud of smoke. It was in his sharp gaze, the titillation mixed with yearning although he had you whenever he pleased.

Your wet tongue swirled around his digits, your lips pursed as he pushed his fingers deeper inside your mouth, almost making you choke and groaning softly at the way you softened your tongue, just imagining how you’d look with your pretty lips wrapped around his throbbing shaft. Blood was already rushing south, Seungmin’s cock begging to be touched and it wasn’t long before it was, your hand travling up his bare thigh until you reached his clothed hard-on, squeezing his member through the fabric and coaxing a long moan from the male. With a pop he removed his fingers and quickly stripped himself from his underwear before he kneaded your breasts, pushing the bra lower down on your torso and exposing you to him, the gentle buds hardening as the cold air met them. His cheeks were tinged with red as well as the tips of his ears, barely visible from the purple light that engulfed the two figures in the dark. His hands sloped downwards, tugging on the rim of your panties before pulling them down to your ankles, you kicking them off with your feet and automatically spreading your legs, displaying your wetness to the horny boy. He scoffed at your shamelessness, running his fingers up your folds and gently circling your clit and landing a small slap on your cunt, causing you to jolt upwards, your nose scrunching in pleasurable pain.

“Look at you, spreading your legs like that. Such a good whore” he cooed at you as he unexpectedly pushed two fingers into your sopping hole, you hissing at the inital stretch, putting your forearms on your tits and pushing them together, a defined cleavage forming that only made the young boy drool from the sight, wanting to fuck your tits and cum all over them. Make you a mess. A small “mhm” made it’s way out of your pretty pout, Seungmin prodding his fingers inside you and making you squirm as he grabbed your face with the other hand, making you look upwards causing you to look up at your own desperate reflection, your neck bending backwards from him squeezing your cheeks together and tilting your head back, refusing to let you look at him.

“You’re gonna watch yourself, see how slutty you are for me” he growled, you not being able to do much other than moan through the pout that formed as he abused your hole with his fingers, curling them up inside you and reaching the raised area of your g-spot, a loud mewl escaping you as he repeatedly teased your clit with his thumb along with moving his fingers between your velvety walls, tears threatening to fall from the corners of your glimmering eyes that swallowed the minimal light in the room. Before you knew it your cheek started stinging, the sensitive nerves reacting to the slap that he placed across the skin, the pain canceling out the noise that formed when the palm of his hand came in contact with your cheek. You bit your teeth together in order to not scream out in pleasure as he used his entire forearms to shake your insides, the squelching sound of your pussy only arousing him more until he couldn’t take it anymore.

He needed to fuck you.

Hard.

Seungmin pried your legs open, holding a firm grip on the inside of each thigh and gripping the fleshy, supple skin, slapping it once before he lined himself up with your entrance, you gazing at him through half-open eyes and furrowed eyebrows to which he tsked, spitting on your tits and seeing the hot saliva run down the side and stain the bed before he spoke.

“Don’t you dare look at me, look at yourself and how good I’m fucking you. How fucking pathetic you are for my cock.”

His voice trailed down your spine, making your arousal blossom even more than it already had, him rubbing the tip of his leaking cock against your wet folds, spreading the glistening precum on your sex. You gulped loudly, remaining eye contact with your own reflection on the roof, exhaling when he pushed himself into your tight cunt and feeling your muscles relax, the tension in your shoulders melting away like warm butter. Even if it wasn’t the first time, you still got nervous and no matter how much Seungmin fucked you, your cunt always wrapped around his cock snuggly, welcoming him into your sopping heat. He groaned, a deep sound that came from within, basking in the pleasure of just having the sensitive crimson tip of his cock inside your throbbing cunt.

“S-seungmin,,, please f-fuck me already” you begged, biting your bottom lip and looking at him through the mirror, only the crown of his being visible causing you to get even more impatient. You couldn’t read his facial expressions or his body language besides from the small field of vision you had at the bottom of your eyes. You could listen to what he said. Smell his familiar scent as it wafted over to you with each thrust that was slow and mellow, him rolling his hips against yours and playing shyly with your clit by putting his hand on your lower abdomen and using his thumb to toy with the bundle of nerves. He had barely had his fun with you until tears started to spill from your eyes, trying to grip the soft sheets on which you lied on, only making the bed a bigger mess than it already was, marked with spit and tears. Luckily the bed was secured, the headboard not banging against the wall but the sound of Seungmin’s cock ramming into you bounced off the white stucco walls, the sound of skin slapping against each other mixed with your high-pitched moans, your lovers name stringed throughout the incoherent sentences.

“You’re so fucking loud” He said, slapping your cheeks once again before speaking, “but I love you.”

You could barely keep your eyes on the mirror and when you did you could only look at Seungmin through the reflection, your thighs quivering as he put more pressure on your clit with the rough pad of his thumb, circling it in small figure eights. The way he talked to you and touched you made the pit of your core burn in a blue and orange flame. You were nothing more than a whore, a toy that he could use to his advantage.

But you were his.

Your tits jiggled with every thrust that got more and more vicious, Seungmin holding your legs apart by your thigh and rolling his head back in pleasure, small beads of sweat decorating the skin on his temples and along his hairline, soaking a couple of strands of his dark colored hair. You could only imagine his semi-erotic facial expression, getting both frustrated and turned on by the fact that you couldn’t see how hot your boyfriend looked right this moment. A lot of things were left to the imagination with his deep grunts and the soaking sounds of his cock entering you repeatedly being an aid. An accidental moan escaped through your throat as Seungmin gathered his strength in order to roughly slam into you, your entire body jolting upwards on the bed and causing your toes to curl, back arching against the mattress.

“You want to cum already babygirl? I can feel you clenching around me and I’m sure you can see your dumb drooling self in the mirror” he said, you not even noticing the small stream of saliva that run from your parted lips along your jaw, your breathing getting more rapid as he removed his hand from your clit and instead lifted your legs up, pressing them closer to your upper body. You screamed at the new access the man gained, the subtle outline of his cock was traced on your stomach as he pounded up into you, your clit throbbing in the lack of contact.

“F-fuck,,, fuck yes,, g-gonna cum” you muttered out in broken syllables, barely being able to look upwards without getting flustered by the sight if you even saw anything at allf rom how your eyes watered, tears brimming at the edges and blurring the stuff you could see through the dark colored lights. Seungmin laughed lowly, adoring the fear mixed with satisfaction in your glimmering eyes, fucking you hard enough to make your hair a spread out mess on the bed, sticking to the saliva on your lips. Suddenly he pulled out, you letting out a tiresome moan and cupping your tits in your hands, pulling on your nipples slightly before releasing, your eyes landing on your boyfriends that were dark with lust. Your body language spoke volumes, you trying to make yourself as small as possible due to worry, wondering why he looked at you with those hooded eyes and that wicked smile. He tapped you on the side of your waist, a silent signal for you to turn around and you compiled without words but only then did you realize what he wanted, what his evil intentions were. In front of you, you saw your own reflection, forgetting that the two walls that welcomed the bed were completely covered in glas, reflecting back your fucked out face that was stained with tears and pure arousement. Seungmin’s hand snaked through your hair, grabbing a fistful by the roots and tilting your head up so that you looked at yourself from an angle, your eyes still glued on him but now instead through a clear mirror. Automatically your back arched, your perky butt up in the air, your cunt crying out from the lack of attention as he leaned closer to your ear, draping his body over yours and whispering seductively into your ear.

“Don’t you dare look at me, I don’t like nasty whores looking at me. Watch how fucking pathetic you are when getting fucked.” He cleared his throat, his breath tickling against the side of your neck when his other hand stroked your back before wrapping around your throat, pushing on the sides and making you choke, lightheadedness making the room spin in a mystical and aroused daze.

“No one else can fuck you this good, isn’t that right y/n?”

You nodded, the boy feeling the saliva run down your esophagus as you gulped loudly, your heart racing in your chest. He placed a wet kiss behind your ear causing you to raise your shoulder towards your head, a small giggle escaping you as the light kiss tickled your skin, you saw him smile momentarily, his intimidating aura bursting by the seams from the way your lips lingered in a smile even moments after he had kissed you. Both his hands cascaded down your back as he stood on his knees behind your cowered figure, a slap echoing in your ears before the pain surged through your skin, almost like he left an imaginative handprint on your asscheek. It was almost a threat. You needed to look at yourself in the mirror ahead of you or else he would punish you by more slaps, spit on you or both at the same time. You wanted to be good for him, it was afterall an anniversary.

“Are you ready sweetheart?” he murmured under his breath to which you nodded, having to break eye contact with yourself from the humiliation you felt of watching yourself in the eyes while your boyfriend was pushing into your slippery cunt, carding through his dark hair with the other hand, pushing a couple of sweaty strands away from his glistening forehead, the same warm feeling of your pussy enveloping around his cock. You nodded a bit too late, your jaw hanging slack from the pleasure as you rolled your eyes back, gasping for air and moaning uncontrollably. He grabbed your hair by a fistful again, twisting it around his wrist that was the home to a dainty silver bracelet, his vicious thrusts startling you.

“I said fucking look at yourself, are you that dumb or do you only understand when I slap you, hm?” he practically growled at you, attentively watching your every facial expression and seeing the approaching climax almost painted on your face. It was the way your eyes puffed up, your cheeks clad in glittering tears and your lips swollen from just how much you had been biting on them in order to silence your screams. Seungmin licked two fingers on his other hand and snaked around your waist, diving in between your legs in order to play with the sensitive bundle of nerves, driving you over the edge.

“o-oh,, fuck! yes! right there, g-gonna cum!” you yelled in a high-pitched voice, arching your back even more and scrunching the sheets up with your hands, trying to find something to hold on to in order to not bounce back on Seungmin’s cock harder than you already were. This was a scene so far beyond erotic. You didn’t know that watching yourself get fucked hard and deep could be so thrilling, especially since you weren’t allowed to look at Seungmin without getting slapped around like the whore you are.

Your lovers thrusts got sloppier and uneven, the pack slowing down and him instead going deeper, his hips slamming against your ass and causing your buttcheeks to wobble, him pinching your clit and making your knees weak, it was almost impossible to hold on any longer. With a final hard thrust you came, your love juices coating his throbbing cock that was decorated with thick veins, you moaning his name repeatedly until you came down from your high, your hand trying to grab onto his wrist to the hand that was circling your clit, begging him to stop. Your desperate whimpers was what set Seungmin’s climax off, the young boy rolling his head back before a low grunt escaped his mouth, dumping his cum inside your puffy hole and coloring your velvety walls in his milky white cum. The warmth was comforting, just as comforting as Seungmin releasing his hand from your hair and cunt, stroking your back and muttering “good girl” multiple times along with a small “i love you”, reminding you of how much he loved and cherished you.

The room got silent, fatigued breaths hitting your ears, feeling Seungmin pulling out of you and only seconds later feeling the familiar feeling of cum dripping out, running against your cunt and small droplets staining the bed in a darker shade. You heard Seungmin snicker behind you, running his fingers along your cunt and smearing the cum all over, you flinching in overstimulation as his fingers came in direct contact with your sore clit.

“You good?” you asked as you turned around, your eyes lightning up as you saw his handsome face again, only this time you caught it in the moment you loved it the most; right after sex.

“Mhm, how are you baby?” he inquired to which you nodded before answering.

“Now I’m doing good cause I can see you~" you said with a bright smile, stretching out your arms to which Seungmin complied, hugging you back and feeling your bare tits pressing up against his warm chest. He cupped your cheek, swiping his thumb across your cheeks that were still stinging, leaving a small kiss on it.

“You know that I love you?” he asked quietly, you looking him deep in the eyes and smiling, his eyes turning into half-moons as he smiled back.

“Of course I do, minnie” you answered, placing a delicate kiss on his cherry red lips. The purple lights luring the both of you to sleep, covering your eyes and enticing you into a deep slumber.

It was an anniversary worth remembering.

559 notes · View notes

wri0thesley · 4 years ago

Note

Hi! I love your writing and I may or may not have stalked your blog a little. I saw requests were open, if you're ok with this can you write poly Bruabba's first time with a virgin s/o. Please?

Have a nice day!

shared - abbacchio x reader x bruno (2k)

everything always seems to be perfect, when it’s with them

afab reader, neutral pronouns aside from one use of ‘principessa’. not sfw! threesome/poly relationship, first time. oral sex.

“We’ll be very gentle with you,” Bruno had murmured, humming against your ear, his fingers resting on your hips as you were cradled in his lap. In front of you, Abbacchio has already lost his shirt and his trousers, and now his pale hands are reaching for you, carefully lacquered nails taking hold of the hem to tug it upwards. “Leone can be a little rough, but even he can will himself to something a bit more considerate.”

Abbacchio snorts at Bruno’s words, but then your shirt is coming off and you’re just in front of them in your bra, hungry eyes raking over the newly exposed skin. You feel your cheeks heat up, squirming in Bruno’s lap.

“Says you,” Abbacchio says. “Amore, don’t let his ‘kind man of the people’ act fool you. In bed, he can be every bit as depraved as I can--”

“Leone,” Bruno’s voice has a light laugh. You know, from whispers in your ear and romantic notions put into your head, that Abbacchio is probably right – but still, as Bruno’s hands move up from your hips to lodge in the spaces of your ribcage, your head comes to rest on Bruno’s shoulder. You sigh into the air as careful fingers unclip your bra, the fabric falling from you – your nipples peaking in the cool night-time air.

“Look at you,” Abbacchio murmurs. The scratch of his nails down your stomach as he goes for the zipper of your jeans next sends a lightning flash of warmth through you, a curious heat and heaviness between your thighs. “You’re so pretty, tesoro.” The loving pet name coming from between Abbacchio’s lips makes your heart skip a beat – he’s usually rather less romantic than Bruno is, though when you look at his ice-pale eyes you see they’re all melted and softened by fondness. Bruno’s thumbs brush over your nipples, making you shiver, and making Bruno’s lips where you can see them from the corner of your eye tilt into a smirk.

“So responsive,” he coos, enthralled, repeating the motion so you squirm once more. You’re aware of a heat between your thighs, a kind of slick pounding that makes your head spin. “I wonder how many times we can make you come between us tonight.”

Your jeans are unbuttoned, peeled down your thighs – your legs spread. Abbacchio stares down at the place between your legs, where your underwear is slick and clinging deliciously to your damp folds, with the air of a man looking at a beautiful work of art.

His reaches, fingers skimming your bare thigh – thumb tracing the indent of the valley between them, barely skimming your pulsing clit where it’s pressing against the fabric. You sigh against Bruno, back half-arching into the touch, heart pounding a consistent rhythm in your ears.

“I can smell you,” Abbacchio growls.

“Perhaps you should taste,” comes Bruno’s suggestion, vested in teasing – but there’s a steely quality to his words that makes you think that perhaps he is not merely making a suggestion. It’s a quality that both you and Abbacchio seem to respond to – the pale-haired man bites his lip briefly, for a fleeting moment – before he ducks his head and chuckles.

“You’re so wet,” he tells you, as his thumbs hook into the waistband – as you’re rid of that scrap of fabric too, and your sex is bared entirely for Abbacchio to drink in.

Drink in he does.

First, with his eyes – caressing the length of your slit, drawn to the fluttering hole and your plump clit, how the pink folds are glistening with your own slick. And then, as he settles on his knees and leans forward and breathes in, he turns his attention to drinking you in with his mouth.

The first long, hot lick of his tongue against your sex you keen; as he lathes the blunt wetness against your heated core, your hands reach up to cling to Bruno’s neck, your own fingers twisting in the other man’s silky dark hair. Bruno’s eyes are trained between your thighs, to where Abbacchio is lapping at you like you’re water in a dessert.

“He looks so good there, hmm?” Bruno asks, and you look down and see exactly what Bruno sees – subservient Abbacchio, eyes unfocussed as he concentrates on how the sweetness of your nectar tastes on his tongue. “I’m probably better at this than he is, but it doesn’t mean he’s not good--”

“Aa—hnn, ‘m--” Your words are lost as Abbacchio’s tongue teases at the tip of your clit, rolling the sensitive nub over and around. Bruno chuckles dark and deep.

“Next time, I’ll get to use my mouth on you,” he murmurs. “And he can watch. Would you like that, principessa?”

“Y-yes,” you breathe, as Abbacchio ramps up the speed of how his tongue is flicking over your clit. You can feel your body responding with tight vibrations of need, like you’re being lit on a hundred tiny fires. Your fingers desperately rake through Bruno’s hair still, as your voice turns into a collection of shaky whines instead of anything coherent. As Abbacchio sucks your clit into his mouth to suckle on it, Bruno murmurs;

“We’re just preparing you, you know. So you’re slick and wet and ready when we get to finally fuck you--” and you are pushed over the edge, by Bruno’s velvet-edged voice. Fireworks in your stomach, the sound of waves rushing in your ears, Abbacchio’s tongue easing you over the highest peak and the smaller aftershocks that come next. He pulls back from your sex with his mouth glimmering with your wetness, and he kisses Bruno like he’s sharing the taste,

The younger gangster does not disappoint, moaning in pleasure as their mouth sloppily glide together. Bruno’s dark ocean eyes go half-lidded with enjoyment.

“You taste divine,” he tells you, and he kisses your cheek. Your limbs are still pleasantly fuzzy, your body still not caught up with anything else after the shake and rock of your orgasm, so as Abbacchio gently eases you off Bruno’s lap and lays you down among the pillows, you have nothing to say or do except smile fuzzily at them.

“Do you think you’re ready to carry on?” The silver-haired man asks, settling into the bed next to you, brushing hair from your forehead. “You can let us know if you need a break, we won’t hold it against you – this is for you, as much as it’s for us--”

Your attention is caught by Bruno pulling down his trousers. There’s been a respectable tent in them all the while you were squirming as you were eaten out by Abbacchio, but as the clothing item is finally stripped off from him completely, you see that ‘respectable’ is not quite the right word.

“He’s thick,” Abbacchio says, and the hunger in his voice is palpable. “He fills you up exactly right, tesoro, I promise--”

Bruno gives his shaft a few pumps, showing off in front of both of your enraptured gazes. The smile on his face is lazy – he knows that you both like what you see very much indeed. It doesn’t mean he’s not going to make fun of you, though.

“You don’t need to stare, Leone,” Bruno chides, smug. “You’ve had it in you enough times . . . And you,” he turns his attention to you, raising an eyebrow, murmuring your name in a way that makes your toes curl and the liquid heat between your thighs feel like it’s molten lava. “You’ll get to know it just as well, soon. Better to learn it with your body, don’t you think? I won’t ruin you, your first time.”

You’d thought you’d be more anxious about your first time, let alone your first time with them. But Bruno and Abbacchio are not making it a big deal, beyond the fact that they’re focused on your pleasure, on making sure that everything is comfortable for you – they aren’t making a song-and-dance about it, they’re just . . . treating you how they always do, with extra genitals and nakedness involved. They’re barely mentioning that it’s your first time ever, the fear of disappointing them being pushed somewhere far in the back of your mind--

“Yes,” you breathe, urging your thighs wider apart and winning a chuckle from Bruno. Bruno moves closer to you, settling himself on his knees between your legs. He adjusts the angle of his cock, brushing it over your sex, coating it in your slick juices and Abbacchio’s fluids too – before he gently sinks inside of you, the head catching on the rim of your entrance.

A soft noise of surprise escapes you at the stretch. Immediately, one big hand is grabbing yours, fingers entangling – Abbacchio, murmuring something softly about how good you are that you can’t fully parse because another hand has grabbed your other hand, lacing those fingers together. This hand is tan, a definite shudder in the clench of his knuckles – one hand held by one boyfriend, the other held by the other.

Bruno takes his time sheathing his cock inside you. You’re tight around him, clinging to his walls like you’ll barely fit him, and he does it for both of your benefits – but oh, the slick walls pulsing around him and how the mould so well. The little pants escaping your pretty mouth. His eyes flicker from you, your eyelashes fluttering and your mouth half-open and pleasure-daze clouding your vision – to Abba, who looks like the two most beautiful angels in all of heaven have come down to spend time with him in particular. He’s worshipful. If Bruno were a different man, and you were different too, perhaps that look would have made you both conceited. Instead, you smile dreamily at the two of them, your gaze flittering from one to another with an air that seems to say ‘I love you’ over and over again.

He hilts. He’s as deep in you as he can go, all snug and hot and tight and wet – and he pulls out a little, and drives in again, revelling in the wet sounds of your intimate areas echoing through the room.

You’re so wet for him. You’re so good, for both of them – your hand slack in Abbacchio’s as you moan out first Bruno’s name and then Abbacchio’s, aware that even if it is Bruno that’s fucking you right now, all of this pleasure is a team effort.

You’re perfect.

Bruno’s hips pick up speed as he finds a rhythm – not too fast, not too slow. The perfect middle ground that you feel every vein and throb of his shaft, but not so slow that you concentrate on the stretch and burn. Your head is rolling around on the pillow, beads of sweat forming at your hairline as you pant and gasp out along with Bruno’s own thrusts. Abbacchio’s sighing, unconsciously bucking his hips as he watches the two of you – he’ll need some gentle handling later, and you wonder if Bruno will help teach you how to make Abbacchio feel as good as the paler-haired man had made you feel.

Bruno’s thrusts begin to get sharper, his hips seeming to hit you just a little deeper. As he continues to fuck your welcoming walls, a sharpness appears in his eye and a slight grit to his teeth – you realise, as he groans out your name again, that he’s rapidly approaching his own orgasm.

“Bruno,” you whimper, trying to move your hips in tandem with his though you can’t help but feel that your movements are sloppy and uncoordinated, nowhere near good enough to compare with the glide of Bruno’s cock inside you. “Feels . . . feels so good--”

Bruno laughs, a breathless noise.

“You just wait until we can both get in you at the same time, amore.” That one is Abbacchio, dark and gritty – and Bruno groan-laughs at it, his hips twitching, jerking into you with a sudden lack of finesse as you feel a creamy heat and thickness fill you. Bruno pushes his come inside you with a few more weak jabs of his hips before he pulls out, your combined release dripping out of you even after Bruno’s efforts.

“You did so well,” Bruno coos at you, bringing a hand to stroke the side of your face. “So perfect, tesoro . . . so perfect for us--” His eyes have gone half-lidded and his voice is slurred with sleep and pleasure as he pets at you, even these clumsy movements making you feel warm and safe.

“Not quite perfect, “ Abbacchio says. His voice is a little dry. You raise your sleepy eyes to look at him – and your gaze is immediately drawn to the place between his thighs, where he’s wearing only underwear, where the long imprint of his cock is clearly visible in a state that’s best described as ‘straining’. “Someone who’s perfect wouldn’t leave me with this problem--”

Bruno laughs that laugh again, deep and rich like the first coffee you’d ever shared with them on a crisp spring day.

“Who says we’re leaving you, caro?” He asks – he turns to you, smirking. “Do you want another first time lesson, amore?”

You swallow, eyeing the bulge in Abbacchio’s pants, the swollen lips from where you suppose he must have bitten down on them to try and distract from how turned on he was.

“Yes,” you whispers. “Absolutely.”

#not sfw #writing #poly ship tag #leone abbacchio x reader #bruno buccellati x reader #bruabba x reader #poly bruabba #leone abbacchio #brunobuccellati #jojo postin #Anonymous

362 notes · View notes

fantasia-monogram · 3 years ago

Text

Happy birthday (the cupcakes are ruined)

♥️ Jaeyoon x gender neutral reader.

♥️ Smut; just 2k words (!) of what I'd call comfort porn, lol. It's Jaeyoon's birthday. An awkward first time handjob with a little sprinkle of oral happens. Jaeyoon is a total sweetheart and the reader tries their best! You could almost take it as a crack fic, I guess I can't take anything seriously (and I imagine sexy time with Jaeyoon must be fun anyway).

♥️ Disclaimer: this is just for fun! I’m not claiming that’s how he is in real life, it’s just my imagination doing whatever it wants. Read at your own discretion.

Baking cupcakes, decorating them, waiting for Jaeyoon to come back from work, then cuddling together and, if it escalated, an extra surprise the mere thought of made your heart beat faster... Through the three months of your relationship, you’ve already figured your boyfriend wasn’t big on celebrations, and his busy work schedule didn’t leave much time to elaborate plans anyway. That’s why your idea for the night was fairly simple.

Except, here you were, staring in disbelief at the burnt cupcakes. You could swear you only left the kitchen for two minutes, long before the set baking time. You carefully peeled each cupcake one from the silicone mold in hopes they could, somehow, still be salvageable. Well, you were in for a disappointment, as the burn had already reached way below the crust the moment you turned off the oven.

The sound of the front door opening caused you to hold your breath in horror.

“Baby, I’m home,” you heard Jaeyoon announcing. His voice was noticeably tired.

You froze, still holding one of the silicon molds, unsure of what to do.

“I’m gonna shower first, okay?”

He didn’t wait for your answer, instead going straight to the bathroom.

Two rooms away, you were trying to think of something. You must have lost track of time again, because it felt as if your boyfriend finished showering in seconds.

The moment you caught him standing in the doorway, you threw a kitchen towel over the tray and, for safety measures, moved to the side in a way that made you cover any proof of your failure.

“Happy birthday!” you exclaimed cheerfully. “By the way, the cupcakes are ruined.”

Jaeyoon blinked a couple times, then snorted, visibly amused.

“It’s fine, baby. Thank you anyway,” he said with a smile, approaching. He sneaked his arms around your waist, glancing over your outfit, which was a very bold word, considering it consisted of baby pink briefs and an oversized white T-shirt.

Another thing he wasn’t big on was wearing clothes at home. You were still warming up to the idea, so you always had to throw something on top (comfy sweats or T-shirts were acceptable, and he wasn’t really a fan of fancy underwear either - you appreciated that greatly). Jaeyoon, however, unashamedly walked around in briefs only. God, it wasn’t easy for you. You couldn’t say you didn’t like what you saw, but it was so distracting it almost forced you to keep eye contact with him.

Looking anywhere else would make you blush profusely.

You snatched his attention away by placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“There is still one more present I have for you…” you started, looking up at him.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling. Damn, those cute dimples…

As an answer, you glided your hand from between his exposed pecs, down his abs and happy trail, stopping at the edge of his underwear, cautiously hooking a finger under it.

“Hey, we don’t have to.” Jaeyoon kissed your forehead, lightly grabbing your wrist. “Haven’t you told me you don’t feel ready yet?”

“I’m not ready to go all the way,” you explained, looking to the side, “But I wanna take a little step forward tonight.”

You pulled out of his grip and, biting your lip, placed your hand on his already impressive bulge. You didn’t expect it to be so warm to the touch.

“Okay, maybe not so little”, you snorted.

“Are you sure?” Jaeyoon uttered, sounding a bit out of breath.

You nodded with a smile on your lips.

Your boyfriend, despite very obvious physical attraction to you, has always been a total sweetheart when it came to reaching next levels of intimacy. He knew you had no real experience and never pushed you into anything. It took you over a month to get from shy smooches on the cheek to actual making out, and even then, whenever he’d get too aroused, he’d stop in his tracks and ask you to let him cool down a bit. You almost couldn’t believe his patience, even though he’d insist he was just being a decent human being everytime - that wasn’t the experience you had with your exes, though.

This time, you had no intention to leave him with nothing.

“Do we go to the bedroom, or…” you stopped mid sentence, courage leaving you all of sudden.

“I don’t mind just staying in the kitchen,” he replied, planting another kiss, this time on the side of your neck. “It’s so nice and toasty in here after all that baking.” Another one. “Or maybe it’s just because I’m excited for your present.”

You felt a warm shiver spreading through your body. You motioned Jaeyoon towards the counter before the arousal could haze your mind completely.

A makeout session with a lot of tongue followed, with him leaning against the edge of the counter while you trapped him in place with your arms. You really felt in control despite the height difference, plus, it gave you a nice opportunity to squeeze his glorious butt from time to time - he seemed to like it a lot, moaning into your mouth each time you did that.

One particularly low moan encouraged you to slide your hands to his front. He kept you so occupied with his kisses that you pushed his briefs down almost absentmindedly, while you two stayed pressed tightly against each other.

The weight and warmth of Jaeyoon’s hard cock, that you could feel against your stomach even through the fabric of your shirt, made you break the kiss with a surprised gasp.

Jaeyoon giggled sweetly.

“I guess I did get a bit too excited, after all.”

He pulled back (not without pecking your cheek for a good measure) and carefully sat on the floor. After a short hiss because of the direct contact with the cool tiles, he leaned against the cabinet door below the counter.

Not breaking eye contact, he shamelessly spread his legs.

“So, what are we doing?” he asked with a wink.

Doing your best to hold back a nervous laugh, you sat in front of him, the lewd sight of your boyfriend sprawled for you like that making your head spin with desire. You never felt like this for any of your previous partners, but Jaeyoon absolutely deserved to take all of your firsts.

“I was… thinking…” you mumbled, finding it hard to not glance at his dick every now and then, “I just wanted to focus on you tonight… Maybe I could use my hands?”

You hesitantly looked into Jaeyoon’s eyes. The tender gaze he gave you caused your heart to swell with love.

He reached for your hands and held them delicately.

“Can’t wait, baby,” he whispered, “I’m going to guide you, okay?”

A chuckle escaped your mouth. He really couldn’t give up on any chance to hold your hands.

Not wasting any more time, you looked up at the counter. Conveniently, a jar of organic coconut oil was within your reach, so you grabbed it together with a spoon placed nearby.

“It’s fine to use this as lube, right?” you made sure, uncapping the jar. “I’ve read it somewhere over the Internet.”

“It’s more than fine,” Jaeyoon reassured you, tactfully omitting his amusement over your possible research.

Well, your search history was already messed up. It better be worth it.

Jaeyoon’s face was getting flushed; you’d find it cute if not for the situation you found yourself in.

You spooned a hefty amount of oil. After moving the jar out of the picture, you slathered the makeshift lube all over your palms.

“Where do we begin?”

In a matter of seconds, your hands were in Jaeyoon’s again. He guided your left hand to hold his cock at the base. The sight was mouth watering --- your palm looked so small against the thickness of his shaft, but you did your best, holding it firmly with the pressure suggested by Jaeyoon himself.

He made you circle your right hand around him, with your thumb resting against the underside. Here, the pressure applied wasn’t as hard, so your boyfriend started guiding you through the entire length with slow, careful strokes. The whole experience was so intense for you, even though you were the one pleasuring your boyfriend; his cock was so hard and hot, you could feel all the veins under your fingers, and the gentle guidance only made it feel even more intimate.

The strokes became faster and more desperate. Jaeyoon would let out a breathless moan every time you squeezed his cock near the top. Soon enough, when you brushed your thumb over the head, you noticed pearly droplets of precum smearing along with it.

You didn’t even realize how fast your breathing has become. You caught yourself letting out a quiet, breathy moan from time to time, now unable to look away from the filthy sight in front of you.

The best thing about it? Jaeyoon’s whines were becoming louder and more prolonged with each jerking move now. You could see his arms and thighs shaking.

“Let me…” you whispered, your voice hushed by the weight of your desire.

Jaeyoon let you take control, his hands now squeezed into fists, resting on his thighs. Since you got the gist of the stroking already, you dared to glance at your boyfriend’s face.

He looked divine and so vulnerable at the same time: his head thrown back, image of pure bliss on his face. His sculpted chest heaving for air. His abs quivering.

You couldn’t believe it was you who turned him into this gorgeous mess.

“Oh God…”, he moaned, eyelashes fluttering, heart-shaped lips just slightly open. “You’re doing amazing… Baby…”

You couldn’t hold back a giddy smile that beamed across your lips. Turning your gaze back at his cock, you saw - and felt, oh, you felt it so well - it twitch.

As another motion reached just under the crown, Jaeyoon’s hands were back on yours, this time stopping you from any movement.

“Stop... Wait...” he pleaded, breathing heavily, sweat rolling down his chest. “Gonna cum…”

“Isn’t that like… the whole point?” you asked innocently. Jaeyoon looked back at you, wide-eyed.

He didn’t want you to move your hands anymore? Fine.

You licked your lips and leaned towards his shaft. Mustering up your courage, you kissed the tip tenderly, making a soft, wet sound.

Things happened quickly. You didn’t even get a chance to fully lean back to your previous position when you heard Jaeyoon whine loudly. You felt him tighten the grip on your wrists. Next thing you knew, he came in thick spurts on your chest and neck, some of it even hitting the lower side of your cheek.

You froze for a moment. Did you just really… bring him over the edge? With so little touching?

Jaeyoon’s long sigh snapped you out of your musings. He finally let his hands slide off yours. You let go of his spent cock, putting it down as gently as you could.

Your boyfriend tucked his fingers under your chin. He raised it so you could face him.

His relaxed smile was a tell-tale sign you did an amazing job.

“There is my birthday cupcake,” Jaeyoon murmured, smearing his cum on your face with his thumb, squishing your cheek a bit too much in the process. “With icing and stuff.”

You tried to playfully squirm away, but he firmly held your chin in place and leaned down to give you a deep, messy kiss.

Jaeyoon backed off a little to look into your eyes again. His gaze dropped down theatrically. You followed it, only to discover there was a wet spot on the light pink fabric of your briefs.

“It’s a moist one, too.”

Before you even thought of getting embarrassed, he hooked his arm tightly around your waist. He easily lifted you off the floor, only to seat you on the kitchen counter.

He situated himself between your spread legs.

“I better eat it before it gets all soggy.”

#sf9 smut #sf9 scenario #sf9 imagines #jaeyoon smut #jaeyoon scenario #jaeyoon imagine #Please tell me how you like it!#It's been a while since I wrote a piece this long ;;

81 notes · View notes

ladyfloriographist · 4 years ago

Text

Promises

Pairing: Luca Changretta (Peaky Blinders) x femme!Reader

Warnings: attempts at Italian, pet names galore, feelings of neglect, a small verbal fight, raised voices, Daddy Kink, Mafia Themes(?), mentions of marriage/children, is Reader Lady Macbeth-ing Luca?, vaginal sex, translations at the end

XXXX

He calls your name from the other room—from the main living area, with the fireplace and the velvet brocade armchairs and the piano in the corner.

“Come ‘ere a minute, would ya doll?”

He’s just arrived back at the hotel, and you’ve been waiting all day for him.

“Lemme look at my gal.”

You hear him rattling on as you slip into your silky robe. Something about how he hasn’t seen ya all day and how he’ll wring the fuckin’ neck of the next pezzo di merda* who—

“What’s wrong, baby?” You appear in the doorway, leaning on the frame provocatively. “You miss me real bad or somethin’?” It had been a struggle for you, too: locked up in this beautiful prison with nothing to do but put another record on and read through the local papers. Again.

To keep you safe, Luca assures you.

To protect you, he tells you, every morning before he leaves to go attend to his business.

“Dolcezza*,” Luca sighs, enraptured, looking over your form from his position in one of the armchairs. “Come to me, baby.”

You slink over to him, swaying your hips and rolling your shoulders just so, just enough—and gently pulling at the sash that holds your gown together.

“My God you’re a sight for sore eyes, dame.”

You hold back your smile, and come to a stop before him. You let your robe fall open, revealing your light, thin, peachy silk chemise, but you make no moves to get closer to him.

“Why the frown, dolce*? Huh?” He leans forward in the armchair, grabbing one end of your sash and toying with it as he looks up at you. “You don’t look too happy to see me. Do I gotta be worried?”

You draw in a breath and push it out in an unhappy sigh. “I wish you’d take me with you, Luchone*.”

Luca’s face falls into a glower, despite your use of one of his favourite nicknames. Big Luca.

His voice is raspy with weariness when he replies. “You know I can’t do that, doll.”

“Just for one day, baby. Just to lunch or somethin’, nothin’ big,” you bargain. “Nothin’ important.” You take a step closer, and drop your features into a subtle pout. “It’s like I’m trapped in here all day long and I hardly ever get to see my papino*.”

“Cazzo*!” he curses, tossing your sash away and throwing himself back into the chair. He takes a few angry breathes, staring at you. “You put me in an impossible fuckin’ position, you know that? I put you up in a beautiful fuckin’ hotel, fuckin’, look at this,” he gestures around him, “fuckin’ piano, radio, send a girl up for your fuckin’ hair—I give you everything, no? What do you want from me, huh?”

You take a step back and stun him with a hurt and pleading look, pulling your gown back around yourself.

Luca’s eyes fall softly closed as he collects himself. If only you knew the shitstorm he was trying to keep at bay—trying to keep from your door. “Ngah fuck, baby,” he sighs with exasperation, sitting forward in the armchair again and looking up at you imploringly. “I didn’t mean that.” He holds out a hand. “Come ‘ere, dollface.”

You resist, flashing wounded eyes at him. He can work a little harder for you than this.

“Come on, dolcissima*,” he croons softly, shifting forward some and pulling at your gown, “come to Daddy, yeah baby?”

You shuffle a little closer, standing between his knees. Luca hums and reaches up, slowly slipping your robe down your shoulders.

“You know I like ya, don’t you?” he murmurs.

You tilt your head to the side as Luca brings your gown lower and lower down your arms and almost off. “Do you, Daddy?”

“Mmm,” he groans, letting your robe pool in a puddle of silk around your ankles. He trails the tips of his fingers slowly up your outer thigh. “Think I like ya so much I wanna make you,” he cinches hold of your hip, “Mrs Luca Changretta.”

You step into him, pressing him back against the back of the armchair as you straddle his hips, sitting down on his thighs. “You wanna marry me, papino? Hm?” You press your groin to his and put one hand on his chest, and Luca’s eyes go dreamy and soft with desire. “You’d have to come see me more, Luchotto.” You slide your other palm down to his crotch and lean in close to his face to murmur onto his lips, “Think I’m forgettin’ you like me that much.”

Luca breathes deep through his nose as your hand glides back and forth over his stiffening cock. “’s at so?” he murmurs lowly, his eyes a dark blend of anger and arousal. “You tryna get a rise outta me, doll?”

“One you’ll like, baby,” you smile seductively as you tease his erection through his trousers, “promise.”

Luca blinks slowly, breathes deeply, giving himself over to the pleasure at every pass of your hand.

“I’ll be yours…” you pop the buttons on his fly and slip your hand inside, seeking out his stiff need, “…when they bow…” you start to stroke him, “…and call you…” you lean close to whisper in his ear, “…Don Changretta.” You let your lips linger against the shell of his ear, and Luca groans.

You take his right hand in yours and draw it to your mouth. “When they,” your hot breath ghosts over his fingers, “kiss your rings.” You look deeply into his eyes, still stroking his cock with a slow, consistent pace and firm grip, and press kisses to the rings on his second and fifth digits.

Luca shudders. “God Almighty,” he sighs with bared teeth, brow creasing, “mi stai facendo morire*.” He dips two fingers into your mouth, “You’ll be the fuckin’ end of me, you,” and drags the pads of them along your tongue and down your lower lip.

You nod and flick your tongue over his fingertips, murmuring, “Sì, papino,” before you press a kiss to them.

“Mother of God,” he breathes, eyes heavy-lidded. He dips beneath your chemise and teases your pussy with his wet fingers, stroking along your sensitive lips before slipping inside your honeyed core with ease.

You gasp, your grip on Luca’s thick length faltering as he pumps his digits into you. “Luchotto,” you sigh, and Luca’s lips break into a big, open-mouthed grin.

You spit into your palm and give his dick a generous swipe, and then you lift up, lifting off Luca’s fingers, and line yourself up with the swollen head of this thick cock.

“Oh, fuck,” Luca murmurs, “you miss Daddy, huh baby?”

You lower down, sinking onto his dick slowly as if in answer. Luca’s lips drop into an ‘o’ as he groans croakily and sighs breathily at the tight, wet, warmth wrapping around his cock.

Fully seated, you sit all the way down on his thighs again. He fills you beautifully, long and thick and pulsing with need. It makes you sigh, and Luca’s eyes water a little, lids fluttering.

“Fuck me, dolcezza,” he gasps, ringed fingers wrapping around the back of your neck, “do it now.”

He pulls you close to him, forehead to forehead, as you start to bounce and grind on his cock. The blessed blissful beautiful friction draws a moan from your throat—and Luca swallows it, groaning as he catches your lips in a hungry kiss.

He holds you to his body with one hand at your nape and slides the other down your back to squeeze and knead one of your ass cheeks.

You break the kiss to sigh into his open mouth. You lift for more height, lengthening the drag of your wet pussy over his hard cock.

“Uhmfh, bella figa*, baby,” he murmurs, deep and breathy like from deep in his gut.

“Mmhh,” you hum, “papino,” you sigh, “when you’re the most powerful man in all Italia,” you lift and drop, lift and drop, rolling your hips now to fuck him even deeper, “I’ll be your wife, Luchone.”

“Fuuck!” Luca growls. He yanks your silky slip off and dives your for breasts, holding them, squeezing, kissing your nipples. He wraps his arms around your ribs and splays his fingers over your back, holding you to him so he can devour your tits while you ride him.

“Baby,” you moan, the pleasure sparking right the way through your core. You keep lifting, rolling, dropping, bouncing on him, huffs and puffs of exertion and pleasure falling from your lips.

“You’ll be my wife,” Luca says, voice muffled by your soft flesh as he licks and sucks at your nipples, “you’ll take my name.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“You’ll bear my children.”

“Yes, Luca,” you groan—and pleasure jolts up his spine and shoots through his throbbing cock.

Luca starts to thrust up into you. He plants his feet firmly on the floor and meets your downward pushes with quick snaps of his hips. Your bodies smack together now, slapping pops of flesh-to-flesh only just heard over the louder, deeper, more guttural grunts and moans from your throats.

“Ahhffuck,” he sighs, one hand going to your waist and the other dipping down to rub your clit, “I’m close, dolce.” Luca rubs at your engorged bud and looses a ragged sigh when your pussy reacts to the touch, clenching and squeezing his cock. “Get ready to cum for me, doll.”

You toss your head back and cry out, holding fast to his shoulders for leverage.

Luca can’t take his eyes off you. “Yes, yes, yes,” he coos through clenched teeth, cupping one of your bouncing breasts and tweaking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “That’s it,” he croons, “that’s fuckin’ it. Right there, baby.”

Your pleasure rises: the feel of him inside you, rubbing your clit, and rolling your nipple all bring you hurtling towards your peak. To soon, because Luca plays your body like a fiddle, the sensations overwhelm you.

“Papino,” you gasp, “I’m gonna cum.”

“Hmmh,” he grunts a hum, “dolcissima. I know, baby. Can fuckin’ feel it.”

It blooms and tightens and crests, all at once. You moan, a rough and guttural sound as his cock hits against all the right spots deep inside you.

“Come on,” Luca growls lowly. “Give it to me, ‘n’ I’m gonna fuckin’ fill you up.”

You break, falling apart on his cock as your orgasm floods your body with liquid bliss. Your pussy spasms and seizes around Luca’s dick.

He keeps bouncing you—“fuucking wet,”—keeps lifting you up and pulling you down as you moan and wail through the pleasure, until he can’t hold on any longer.

Luca groans as his orgasm overwhelms him, holding your tremor-wracked body to his as your clenching, convulsing pussy milks every last drop of cum from his balls.

He shudders through it, moaning and groaning into your neck as the spasms taper off and you both float back down to Earth together.

For a long moment you hold each other close, and you’re nestled into the slope of his neck when he turns and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hey, doll,” he murmurs huskily, “come out with me tonight.”

You lift up, the pair of you hissing and gasping from the sensitivity down below. “You mean it?” you say, your gaze flitting between his hazel orbs.

“Yeah,” a small smile breaks slowly across his face, “lemme take my gal to dinner.”

XXXX

Translations (questionable, I am not a native speaker)

pezzo di merda – piece of shit

dolce, dolcezza, dolcissima – sweet, sweetheart, the sweetest

papino – Daddy

cazzo – dick/fuck/shit (a curse word)

mi stai facendo morire – you’re killing me

bella figa – beautiful cunt

#luca changretta #luca changretta x reader #g writes

227 notes · View notes

belleta · 4 years ago

Text

The Forest - Part One

Consists: Supernatural, SKZ as different SN creatures, adventure, romance, drama, action, ......still trying to figure out all the details....lol XD

"Come on Y/N!", I was racing around the house. Trying to make sure I had everything for this trip. "Omg Y/N, let's GO~!" I swear to the universe she's going to thank me later. " I'm coming child!" I screamed back. Alrighty I just need my retainer. I bounded up the stairs and glided down the hallway with my cotton socks. Bursting into my room, I quickly scanned it for the sparkly emerald case. I caught sight of it out of the corner of my eye, "Boom!" I ran forward and snatched it off my windowsill. While leaping for my door, I paused and turned back to what I call my sanctuary. Call me paranoid but I'm kinda afraid of camping in the middle of the woods. Ever since I watched "The Blair Witch Project", I've been creeped.

It doesn't help that Jazzy forced us to watch the film, previous to this morning. I was drifting in the fairy floss clouds of my mind when a loud honk poured water on them. I sucked in a breath, blowing raspberries. Padding back over to my bedside, I grabbed my Ice Bear plushie. Giving it a quick squeeze and finally deciding that he's coming with me. Galloping back through the house, I made it out, locked the door and hopped in the back seat like a spring rabbit. "What took you so long?" I gazed up through my fringe at my girl bestie Jazmine. She had long beautiful honey blonde hair, and a mousy nose. Her blue eyes were alike with pebbles under a lake, with cheeks connected by a dash of light freckles. "I swear I just aged waiting for you" and Danny, our guy bestie. I've been best friends with Danny, since 3rd grade. Jazzy moved over during the 5th grade. All three of us have been with each other through thick and thin. Daniel was Hawaiian Japanese descent, had perfect colorful nails and absolutely gorgeous eye makeup. We were all dressed in casual, comfy clothes for the trip. Jazmine, or Jazzy as people call her, as the oldest. She was driving Danny's dad's truck. It was spacious and definitely was fit for the environment. Danny, second eldest was in shotgun and I, being the "baby", was in the back. "I was just making sure I have everything." The two rolled their eyes. Danny looked back at me "Girl, you need to chill. We've got everything and more" the boy stated. "I know, I know.....I'm just paranoid, you know.....being in the woods for a week" I looked down at my feet and played with my fingers to cover my embarressedness. "Awww, is the baby scared", Jazzy giggled, imitating a child. I swatted at her, "Let's just...finally go" I grumbled, reaching inside my bag to pull out my headphones. "Fine" they answered teasingly. While Jazzy was pulling out, I fastened myself and slid my headphones on. Bluetoothing them and unlocking my phone, I scrolled through my YouTube Music playlist finding the one named 'Bell Mix'. After that, I went back to the truffula trees and fairy floss. Just listening to my music and thinking about things. There were a couple times, where I thought I might get sick, but I had remembered my motion sickness bracelets. In your face! It's better to set out a little later, rather than having our vehicle reeking of my insides. 2 or 3 hours went by, or something. I'm not really sure, my brain doesn't really have a sense of time when I'm inside of it. We stopped to use the bathroom, get food and fuel at a gas station, maybe 2 hours away from the forest. "Can I, can I, can I, can I PLEASE?!?" I had been begging Jazzy to let me buy a bag of Haribo for 10 minutes now, and she was starting to break. I'm very persuasive as you find out, and I happen to be a very prominent weakness to many throughout my life. She finally gave in and I bounced away to the candy isle with glee and happily picked out a bag, promising to share. Jazzy just rolled her eyes and paid for our things. We trotted back to the car and continued our journey. It was nearing the end of 2pm when we finally arrived at the edge of the forest. It's lushes were absolutely perfectly splendid. The road continued for a hot minute, until it gave away to dirt and rocks. We didn't want to stray too far from the dirt road, so we slowly kept moving in until I suddenly exclaimed at the sight of a pretty little clearing. It had a few little bushes marking the edges, thick but soft looking grass, and a little dirt patch at one side that should be perfect for a firepit. We pulled over to take a look around, flattening a few bushes in the process. As soon as the truck came to a stop I shoved the door open and sprung down onto the flourishing forest floor. The first thing I did was take a deep breath to soak in the sweet scent of the untouched earth. I reached up, stretching and cracking a few of my bones in the process. Then I raced through the trees and undergrowth, toward the beautiful glade. It felt so nice to get away from civilization, I had always loved

getting away like this. Being able to recharge away from annoying people and sounds, my fears of the night were long forgotten. I was two steps away from the grass when I suddenly tripped over something. Tumbling forward and scratching my cheek. I landed on my face, but on the bright side it was luckily with no rocks around. The dirt however spared me at nothing, crawling into my fresh scrapes, was a sharp and quick stinging as I grabbed my face. "Seriously Y/N, we haven't even completely left the car yet and you've already managed to hurt yourself" Jazzy declared. Danny chimed in, "Did you hurt yourself at all?". Quickly inspecting myself, I responded "Yes, a tiny bit on my cheek, hands and knees", I could hear them muttering to themselves about how reckless I was sometimes. They started toward me and as I waited for them to catch up, I decided to look around and figure out where to put things for these next few days. While ogling the decently wide stretch that was conveniently shielded by a mighty sugar maple. I thought I saw something in the undergrowth a few meters away from me. I grabbed my glasses and narrowed my eyes, but right when I thought I saw whatever it was, two flashes shot in the opposite direction between the ferns and disappeared. They were kinda hidden but I could sorta make out one of the shapes was darker and slightly bigger. The other was a little bit easier but still was difficult, it was kinda brown, or maybe reddish? At that moment I felt two hands on my shoulders, "Let me see", it was Jazzy. She inspected my injury. "It'll be fine, just wash it off", "Okie-Dokie-Artichokie", she laughed and ruffled my hair. I gazed back at where I saw the two shapes but not even the bushes were still moving. "Hey!" I cocked my head back to the voice "Can you help me?" Danny was struggling to unpack from the back. "Sure thing Danny-O" I quickly stood up, maybe a little too quick. My vision went funny and I almost stumbled. "Oh my god Y/N! Be careful!" Jazzy scolded, "My bad!" I was a little all over the place at the moment. Finally we were on this trip! I mean, I waited 6 months for this and it's finally here! I'm not all childish, I'm actually very 4D. I'm just really excited okay? I more carefully walked back to the truck, where Danny was struggling to keep ahold of what appeared to be the tent. Over the course of the next hour and a half we set up everything. Goofing around and laughing. Danny had been pulling too hard on our sleeping bags, to wedge them out of the trunk. And had accidentally fallen onto the slightly wet dirt, causing a very prominent brown streak across his gray sweatpants and sky blue tie dye hoodie. I was currently on my way to find the stream that is supposably close by, with a screenshot of google maps and a compass. Service wasn't exactly a 5 star out here, but I didn't mind too much. I brought a portable WiFi router with me, so if Jason Vorhees just decided to pull one, we could call for help. Every so often I would hang a wooden heart ornament on one of the tree's branches, so if this was the correct way then we would never get lost. Also so that I didn't get lost right now. I had been making these last night, for these exact reasons. I swear only dumb people don't mark their surroundings, this is one of the main reasons why people disappear and are never found or get lost. There are no traces of where they've been, like these fruit loops really-...... After about another 20 meters I started hearing the sounds of water. It became louder and louder really quickly. Is there a waterfall here? I pondered, while quickening my pace with curiosity. 35 seconds later I came across a thinning in the trees and beyond a clear water stream. I finally broke out of the shelter provided from the thick leaves, the sun kissed my skin with it's warm touch. I looked around and sure enough, there was a small waterfall that looked straight out of a fairytale. It had multiple uneven levels, with smoothed boulders everywhere. And to top it all off, it had little water plants scattered around it. Absolutely

beautiful.... I scanned around and spotted a few giant boulders poking into the stream. I carefully picked my way over to them, clutching onto Danny's muddy clothes. Hopping onto the sunlight warmed stones, I positioned myself perfectly so that I could reach the water but wouldn't fall in. I reached into my pocket for my zip lock of natural soap, of course I didn't want to hurt this literally untouched land. I leaned down to dunk the fabric into the stream's crystal-like water and kneaded the brown smudge. It was decently cold, just perfect for a stream. I turned back to the small bag with a green bar wrapped with brown paper and a little herb decoration. I unzipped it and reached for a tiny hand towel I brought with me so that I would have a better grip on the soap, even if I got wet. After dunking the clothes in I took the bar of soap and swiped it all over. I dipped it into the water once to help the bubble come, then I started aggressively rubbing it. Once the outfit was foaming with suds, I slapped it into the brook. Holding onto the sleeve I rub it harshly all over to get the stains out. It was relatively still easy because the events of cause were only moments before. I was starting to disappear into my thoughts, getting deeper and deeper and deeper....... And just then a crash and from the trees, followed by snarls and barks. I was so lost in my thought that this jolted me into the canal. The water suddenly became ice cold, my scream had been washed away. A surge of water filled my lungs from the way my mouth was open to yelp. I could still hear the sounds of fighting every so often, when I would surface. My head was hurting, my skin was stinging and my lungs were screaming. Someone.....please help..... It was hurting so much, I was trying not to panic. So I could find the surface and get back to shore. I would break through it's crisp arctic clutches every so often and would cry out for help but then get cut off by the now frosty darkness. I was giving up to the stream and submitting to the coldness. Letting it swallow me whole. I was numb, I couldn't feel my body being thrown around anymore, Is this how my story ends? No! I don't want to! I still have things to do! I need to graduate, and find my passion! I need to find a man who will love me as much as I do! I need to birth young and care for them! I want to grow old with my partner happily! I can't die yet! I just can't! But it was just so cold. I had stopped moving violently, so I guess I had been poured into a lake or something. I didn't care anymore. My blood felt frozen, I couldn't even bend a finger. That's when I felt a force near me, it parted the waters. Moving me in a different direction with its power. Then not long after I felt something grab hold of me in an awkward way. I was starting to be pulled into another direction, as the water streamed around, parting to let me and whatever that was saving me through. Then I broke through the surface and that was the last thing I felt before slipping into a comfy unconsciousness.

51 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

Round Them Up II. Yan Giorno x Reader [COMM]

warnings: canon typical violence, drug mention, kidnapping, gaslighting, previous not sfw mention, and manipulation. word count: 3.4k. part I.

All things that fester in the dark will one day be brought into the light.

Giorno’s unsure when he first heard this sentiment expressed. Maybe it was when he was passing by a mother scolding her child on the street, or from a missionary of the Church passing on their doctrine. This legalistic jargon never resonated with him. Why fear the judgement of a heavenly being that you didn’t believe to exist? As he makes his way through winding halls, this is the thought that plagues him the most. This concept of judgement. He can’t recall a time where the thoughts and opinions of others held a tangible weight. It’s inconsequential. Almost all others are inconsequential. What has mattered most to him is sticking to his ideals, his dream, not what onlookers may whisper behind closed doors. Yet now he can’t stand the thought of you thinking less of him.

Keen eyes stay focused on the butterfly in front of him. The butterflies wings flutter, gliding to the area you’re being held captive. You’re alive. Here, somewhere in this dilapidated building. Giorno’s familiar with the rhythm of your life energy, and is confident that his Stand sensed you. How beautiful a thing it is. It pulsates, like the strings of a harp being strummed, his chest swelling with adoration whenever he feels it. He keeps checking. Those who sought to hurt you are dropping like flies, Giorno noting that the life energy he felt upon arriving is diminishing. Courtesy of Mista, if he were to guess. Gold Experience Requiem has been primed for usage as well.

He comes to a halt when the butterfly insists on a single set of doors. This must be the room you’re in. Giorno takes a deep breath, steadying himself, hearing hushed whispers coming from inside. That accident… undoubtedly, this group is from Northern Italy. The moment he opens these doors, there is but one thing that’ll be for certain. His Stand’s power is absolute. Already, unfortunate guards who he happened upon earlier, have sent to a hellish limbo of his making. A fate that they’ll never come to understand. Everyone who took part in this plan will meet a similar demise.

What worries him most… is how you’ll look at him when it’s all said and done. How much information has Enzo’s men given you? Did you believe all that they said? There must be numerous questions plaguing your mind regardless, having had no idea what being involved with Giorno Giovanna truly meant. He knew there’d be a day where he could no longer hide the truth as he had for months now. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. It was going to be on his terms, an easy to digest version custom made for you. Wetting his lips, he pushes open the door, casting all reservations aside. When the time comes, he’ll know what to do. The proper words have always come to him, like whispers from the divine.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting here.

Wherever this place is -- somewhere far away from Naples, is all you know -- has boarded up windows. From how empty your stomach is feeling, you can safely assume it’s around dinner time. You’ve never felt so sore, your wrists and ankles tied in an uncomfortable position. More information is what you need now. Listening to your surroundings has become second only to breathing. It’s at times difficult to pick through the accents you’re unfamiliar with, the terminology in use not making it easier. These people live in a world completely different from yours, and they speak of a Giorno Giovanna you’ve never heard of.

The consistent story is that they want to spite him somehow. That this is an act of retribution. How did your precious GioGio earn the ire of these men, to the point of driving them to kidnap a civilian? He’s gotten mixed up with the wrong people. Is that all this is? Your throat feels tighter as time goes on, sweat perspiring on your skin, and chest heaving with every labored breath. The anxiety that’s been provoked within you refuses to release its vice-like grip. You want to be strong. In the car ride earlier, the man who spoke to you did so in a demeaning fashion. Dumbing down his words and treating you like a fool. Being weak here is not an option.

So who do you place your hope in? The police? Your own strength? Giorno? There’s no way of being certain. From how tight the ropes are against your skin, squirming out of them is a hopeless endeavor. Not to mention the soldatos around you carry concealed weapons. They’ve been tracking your every movement in between chatting with the other men in the room. You don’t want to succumb to the pits of despair, desperately clinging to the possibility of getting out of this somehow. The injury you sustained from the previous escape attempt is making it even harder, the pain in your wrist ebbing and flowing. It’s likely broken or sprained. Pulling an escape off in a situation like this just seems impossible.

You hang your head down, eyes incapable of focusing on your lap in this dimly lit room. It’s difficult to believe that just this afternoon things had been so different. That you had been completely oblivious to the underbelly of society, blissfully thinking about your date for tonight. Whatever Giorno’s association with these men are, he’s surely noticed your absence, and must have informed the police by now. If he hasn’t picked up on it yet, your family or friends have had to. A shaky sigh leaves your lips, earning a pointed glare from the man next to you. He looks at you as if you’re nothing but a pest.

“Stop moving so much, bischero,” he wrinkles his nose, glowering down at you. “Any more suspicious movement and I’ll tighten your restraints. Just sit there like you’re supposed to.”

Cheeks set ablaze, you nod your head, not trusting your voice to form the proper words. Never before have you felt such a stirring sense of hatred in your heart for another. You have done nothing to be treated like this, living your life as a good citizen. The thought of harming someone has never arisen in your mind until now, wanting nothing more than to prove these men wrong. That you’re not the weakling they so obviously believe you to be. You sweep over the area in the most inconspicuous way possible. Five men are all in the same room as you, two standing near the door and the other three by the chair you’re restrained to. The only way out of this room is through that set of doors.

There is nothing you can do now. This is what you decide. No miracle will give you the strength necessary to get out of here.

Every second passes by slower than the last, tension in the room thick enough to cut through with a knife. That’s when you notice something is different than your initial arrival. The casual banter between the men have ceased, their bodies noticeably tenser, despite what must be their superior ordering them to remain calm. When you listen closely, you hear a faint commotion outside. It’s a piercing sound that takes a moment to recognize. Is that… gunfire? It doesn’t sound like anything you’ve ever heard in the movies, the shots coming in sets of six. Your kidnappers draw their own weapons from inside their coats, readying themselves.

The man who has been standing next to you goes to whisper in the ears of the others, who in turn secure different angles in the room. You don’t want to get your hopes up for nothing... but is it possible that law enforcement is coming to rescue you? Adrenaline pumps through your veins at the thought. The throbbing pain of your wrist is drowned out, your vigor restoring. Everyone present in this room -- including you -- is waiting for something. Someone. Whether it’s friend or foe is yet to be discovered. You’re on pins and needles, gaze locked onto the guarded door with bated breath.

Nothing happened like you envisioned it.

The door, to the disbelief of the others, opens as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Amidst the brewing chaos, you spot an unmistakable flash of golden hair. You could recognize that sight anywhere. It belongs to someone you’ve grown to care for greatly, someone who you didn’t know as much as you thought you did. Still, relief floods into your heart, washing away the previous despair. It’s the sound of guns cocking that brings you back from this potential cloud nine. You’re still in danger. That means he’s in danger too.

Driven by emotion rather than logic, you yell out to him, hoping it might prevent a bloody fate. “Giorno! They have guns!”

Your desperate plea is too late. You know this, and still you pray that it might have any impact. The men in the room fire without holding anything back, all in the direction of the door, the loud noise causing your ears to ring like funeral bells. Though you’re still undecided on your feelings for all that Giorno has been involved with in secret, the thought of him bloodied and falling lifeless to the ground is too much to bear. There’s no way he can survive this onslaught of bullets. This is going to kill him. He’s going to die, trying to save you—

“[First].”

He’s in front of you.

His face is so close, you can feel his warm breath against your tear stricken cheeks. You smell his musky cologne, feel his silky hair against his face, see the light in his emerald eyes. Giorno’s lips part, words leaving them, that you’re too dazed to pick up on. Blinking once, you look around your surroundings as he works to free you from your restraints. This has to be a dream, a final cruel prank before you enter the next life.

“GioGio,” your voice croaks, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “I don’t— I don’t understand, what is happening?”

All that you’re able to gather is that this is the room you’ve been in for hours. The earth tones of the wall, the crumbling ceiling, boarded up windows, and concrete floor are undeniably the same. There’s rustling behind you, your weakened limbs being freed and falling limp. You gasp as he touches your wounded wrist. There’s a stinging sensation, and then the pain alleviates. Testing out the formerly wounded appendage, you notice the bruises from before are gone. Your skin is a normal complexion, instead of the discolored bruises from before.

It feels like your grip on reality is slipping through loose fingers. Pinching your side does nothing, as you don’t wake from a dream like you wish. This is reality. It’s as if the only people in the world are you and him. That doesn’t make sense, there were five other men here, literal seconds ago. How any of this is possible is beyond you. They were firing at Giorno, who is here in the flesh, not a single wound in sight.

“I know you must have a lot of questions,” Giorno’s voice is soothing as it always has been. You still flinch when he speaks up, a mannerism that he doesn’t miss. “I’ll answer all of them to the best of my ability. For now, we need to get you somewhere safe. You can agree with that, right?”

He’s picking and choosing his words with the utmost care. You can still notice this in your mentally exhausted state. There’s no point in arguing, you’ll feel sick should you remain here any longer. “Ah… yes.”

“Can you walk?” Giorno’s giving you a once over. He must be inspecting you for further injury. You nod your head, standing up on shaky legs. The relief of being in Giorno’s presence is fleeting. You don’t want to dwell on it, not here, but the underlying anxiety he brings can’t be shaken. He’s standing by your side, composed as ever. You wonder how you actually know about him. Everyone in relationships is bound to have their own secrets, aspects of them they’re unwilling to share. This is on another level entirely. Being too close to him now doesn’t bring the sense of security it should, and you find yourself on guard.

He places a hand to your shaking side in what’s meant to be a soothing act. “There’s no reason to hide if you can’t.”

“I said I’m fine.” Your tone comes out harsher than you intended. Giorno pauses, looking into your eyes, as if thinking. Conceding to your wishes, he retracts his hand, and leads you to the door. The walk through the building is silent, neither of you making attempts to speak. There isn’t anyone around other than the two of you. Where are all the others you saw on the way here? It’s not that you care for the wellbeing of your kidnappers, but the mystery of their ambiguous fate stays on your mind. How did Giorno have the confidence to face an armed force by himself? There’s no way he’s operating on his own. Not that anything has made sense lately.

The poorly insulated building allows for the occasional breeze to slip through the cracks in the walls. It takes your breath away, and you wrap your arms around yourself to ward off the cold. Giorno is quick to take notice, and sheds his blazer without asking. Warmth envelopes you as he places it over your shivering shoulders. It’s a gesture that would’ve sent your heart racing, but no longer feels right. You want to trust him, to believe that he’s the man you fell in love with. That’s why it hurts even more. To think that all this time, you were being deceived. As pressing as these concerns are, getting home is what takes top priority in your mind. The rest can wait for later.

Walking out the same way you came in, you spot the line of cars that drove you here. All of them are eerily empty. There’s one new car present that you recognize as belonging to Giorno. He’s surprised you in the past by picking you up from work with this car, your coworkers always asking nosy questions about your mysterious lover. Now that you’re reflecting on it, maybe you should’ve been asking more questions too. The source of his wealth was an occasional topic -- that you unfortunately felt was too rude to keep asking about -- and he never gave clear answers. His charm blinded you, and led you into a false sense of security.

You realize that you’re no longer alone with Giorno. There’s a man wearing an odd hat and an outfit with clashing patterns, and another with an equally strange hole covered ensemble. They straighten up their posture when you come into their sight, or more specifically, when Giorno does. From how Giorno’s body language remains neutral, they must be with him. You probably don’t even want to know their relation to one another. The one wearing a hat is brandishing a gun that’s hard to miss, a revolver to be exact. With what meager information you have, you can safely assume that was the source of gunshots you heard earlier. Now that your earlier bloodlust for your captors has faded, your stomach churns at the thought of what must’ve happened. The person you’re staring at notices your intent staring. He shifts his body to keep the weapon out of sight, not that it means anything now.

“Let’s get you back home.” With an arm around your lower back, he leads you to the parked car. Giorno opens the door for you to the backseat, and slides in after you. The partition is put up from whoever is driving for a false sense of privacy. For the second time today, you find yourself unwittingly in the backseat of a car, having more questions than answers. That has to be a new record. The engine purrs to life, and you’re on the road once more.

Now that the opportunity to learn more about what the fuck just happened to you is here, you’re having difficulty figuring out where to start the interrogation. It doesn’t help that your anxiety has been given new life. Giorno, who you’ve always found a serene person, is the source of your newfound dread. At least he’s kind enough to let you gather your bearings.

“Earlier, those... people,” you take a deep breath, hands shaking relentlessly. “The way that they were talking about you made it sound like you did something to them.”

You surprise yourself by gathering the strength to look him in the eyes. He returns your gaze with a similar intensity, inadvertently testing you to say what you’ve wanted to all along. “Giorno Giovanna… just who are you, exactly? And why should I even believe you?”

There’s no immediate response. Despite the physical closeness, you’ve never felt so far away from him. It reinstates the fear that, no matter how well you believe to know someone, they could always be lying. That the truth is what they want it to be. Giorno taking his time to respond makes him appear guilty before your eyes.

“You’ve been through a series of traumatizing events. Before I explain anything, you should rest,” he glances down at his watch. “It’ll be a few hours before we get home.”

So he is trying to avoid it. Pursing your lips together, you shoot him a displeased look. “No. Tell me now. I deserve that much after all I endured, don’t I?”

“You’re right. My apologies.”

Giorno leans back in the leather seats of the car and crosses his legs. It’s unfortunate how now of all times you’re reminded of memories shared here. The times the two of you would tumble into the back, becoming intimate with one another, exploring each other’s bodies with mutual trust. Now there is a frigidity in your interactions. You’ve been torn from your blissful ignorance.

“Those men were seeking revenge like you gathered,” he begins to explain. “I lead a coalition that prevents the sale of drugs on the streets. You saw yourself what levels they’re willing to stoop to, didn’t you? This was meant to be a last ditch effort. To use you as a bargaining chip to renegotiate the terms we established months ago, so they could flood the streets with drugs once more.”

The words seem truthful enough, yet you still have your reservations. “You lead a coalition...? Is it like, a government position? I don’t understand that.”

“Precisely. I can’t go too deep into it for that very reason, [First],” he places his hand over yours, and you let him. “Please, let me continue to protect you. Now that you’ve been involved with me... I’m afraid something like today could happen again.”

It makes sense more sense than you care to admit. That doesn’t mean you want to accept it. What choice do you have? They struck in the middle of the day, at a public mall. Next time, you might not be so lucky as to have this outcome. You’re not sure if you could even sleep soundly at night after what you’ve gone through, knowing every moment might be your last. Your body feels heavy, and the blood drains from your face. Giorno came to you, saved you, how can you continue to doubt him? He put his life on the line for your sake. Who is to say those men earlier weren’t lying as a final act of cruelty? Bottom lip quivering, you squeeze his hand tightly, not that he seems to mind.

“GioGio... I’m sorry. I’ve been awful to you,” you sniffle, wiping away at your tears. “I was scared... I didn’t know what to do, if they’d hurt me, god, if they’d kill me--”

“I know, I know.” He beckons you to his chest and you gladly accept the offer. The expensive fabric rubs against your cheek, and you openly sob against him. Giorno takes a moment to steel himself, before wrapping his arms around you. He’s never been the best when it came to physical affection, you noticed it never came naturally to him. You can’t bring yourself to care any longer. The comfort and security of being here with him is too good to pass on.

“Let’s get you home. I’ll take care of everything, so leave it all to me.”

246 notes · View notes

twstoric · 4 years ago

Text

sugar & spice, just one more slice

500+ Followers Special!

𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: vil schoenheit x f!reader

𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: too much sugar is never good but for vil schoenheit, when it comes to you, he’ll take another slice everytime

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘(𝕤): sugar mommy!reader, dom!reader, marking (faint), office sex, cockwarming (minor), hair pulling/tugging, mommy kink (minor)

𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 2.7k

𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: this is definitely not an excuse to write this concept nope thank you for all the interests in what this blog can offer!! a lot of coincidences transpired that made this fic happen but wellーthank you my babes and i hope you’ll enjoy! 💞

“Vil~!” loud taps of heels ring above the tiled floor at a consistent pace. The rhythmic clack, clack, clack of sharp heels bounces off the walls before it slows and replaced by pretty giggles.

You held onto Vil’s shoulders, hands wrapped around his neck and rubbing your face to his hair like an affectionate puppy. “My pretty Vil! How are you? Are you doing fine?” Your voice holds all the sweetness in the world; light, airy, kind—it’s as if you embody the meaning of pure delicacy itself.

The blond model lets out a small sigh, tuning out the onlookers watching the display as he wraps an arm around you. You’re basically dangling on his neck, stubbornly holding onto him and Vil wraps his arms around your waist to make sure you’re comfortable.

“Who’s that?” the new intern whispers to his senior. His mouth parts when you press a kiss to the model’s cheek as if he had witnessed a crime scene. “Does Mister Schoenheit have um..” he doesn’t think he’s allowed to assume things—it feels almost too scandalous to voice his thoughts about such a top tier influencer.

The older of the two laughs heartily, patting the younger one on the back. His hits are a lot rougher than necessary but he’s smiling when he gestures at the couple: Vil seemingly scolding the pretty woman with the bright smile on her lips. “You wouldn’t know, huh, kiddo?” He laughs, eyes wrinkling and the intern hears you laugh before you’re placed on the ground. “She’s the boss around here.”

Eh?

Your fingers clasp around Vil’s like a perfect puzzle, bringing his gloved hands to your lips and kissing it with a small wink. Vil rolls his eyes but you catch the embarrassed twitch on his lips as you turn to your employees strewn around the room. “If anyone needs us, please make sure it’s after hours! I’ll be with Vil in my office,” you sing-song, tugging at the blond’s hands towards the elevator. “Work hard everyone!”

The elevator closes with a resounding ding as your secretary moves your schedule to the next day.

‎ﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌﻌ

“Tell me what you’ve been up to lately,” the soft dips of your fingers on his skin spreads burning heat over the arch of his back. Your mouth murmurs sugary words against his skin, sucking marks in places only you’ll be able to see. “My pretty Vil.” You sigh dreamily, hands moving to cup your cheeks in a display of a daydreaming schoolgirl.

Vil kisses the expense of your breasts, breath fanning against your skin hotly. His hands settle on the edge of the table you’re leaning against; trapping you between his arms. “It’s rare for you to want to hear about my work,” Vil points out, his hand moves to cup your face, brushing your hands away. The glove he’s wearing glides smoothly against your skin, his thumb swiping over the underside of your lips before you tilt your head down.

Your lips sucks his thumb into your mouth, tongue swiping over the smooth silk of gloves before you’re grinning, teeth clenched on Vil’s thumb but not biting. He pulls his finger away, enough for you to catch the edge of the glove and the material slides off of Vil’s hands in a smooth motion.

The glove in your mouth is instantly discarded, flicking it away as you wrap your arms around Vil’s neck. Your mouth slants with beautifully shaped lips, soft moans leaving your mouth without shame. “I’m just curious,” you start, panting lightly as Vil attaches his mouth to your neck. “I wanna take good care of my baby, you know~ Gotta make sure he’s happy and all that.”

You feel Vil frowns against your neck and you hug him tighter like an overbearing parent. “Your manner of speech doesn’t match your appearance,” the complaint is said with a small huff, quiet enough as if he’s musing to himself but loud enough to make sure you heard him. He resumes mouthing at your neck, smearing fruity lip gloss on your skin. “I was offered another sponsor from a brand that was recently published.”

As a loving person in general, your desire to take care of your precious belongings is buried deep inside your core. Being neglectful makes you uneasy and you appreciate the satisfaction that comes with knowing you’re able to take care of something well. So hearing the supposedly good news, you can’t help but frown at the implication.

Your fingers tangle in blond locks, pulling Vil away from your neck gently to face him. “Did you accept? Is your allowance not enough? Or..? Ah, do you want me to make you my official brand ambassador? I offered before but well..” you frown, head tilted when remembering how Vil had always declined whenever you offered.

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t accept the offer and you’re more than enough,” the kiss he presses to your lips is gentle, handling you with careful fingers. When he pulls away, you take the time to appreciate the flutter of his lashes, eyes slanted like a cat drawing you in. The smile he gives you makes fondness swell in your heart. It’s almost like restating a fact you know by heart: even if you can’t offer him all the riches you can give, you’ll still gladly offer him your heartーand Vil will accept without hesitance.

You nod your head, cupping his cheeks in return. “You’ve gotten more natural at fanservice, I see.”

The blond rolls his eyes at that and he steps back when you get off the table. Your heels are thrown somewhere across the room, stockings the only layer between your bare feet and soft carpet. Vil takes a seat on your chair as you rummage through your bag. It doesn’t take long before you turn to him again, a satisfied smile on your lips when you see that Vil has already unbuttoned his shirt.

The blond eyes the small box in your hands, the smooth surface of a dark coloured cover clasped securely between your hands. You take quick strides over to him, legs swinging over his lap and straddling his thighs. You’re placed higher in this position, legs spread and skirt riding up your thigh. You place the box between the two of you, eyes twinkling in mischief as you offer your baby his new present.

“Should I be concerned with what you’re offering?” Despite the remark, he’s taking the small gift in his hands, eyeing the box skeptically and waiting for you to let him open it.

“You know,” you smile, leaning over him and rolling your shoulders back. It doesn’t escape you how Vil eyes the swell of your breast along your movements. “Just a little gift. It’s nothing dangerous this time.” The term danger perhaps overused with your more intimate giftsーyou can still hear the breathy moans of Vil overstimulated by the dildo you’ve given him that one time...

When he opens the box, you tilt your head when he takes in a sharp breath; watching his reaction. Vil visibly gulps, adam's apple bobbing when he takes out the choker; embedded with small gemstones with light carving over smooth leather. The inside is made of a soft material to ensure comfortable usage. It’s not too thick nor too thinーjust perfectly shaped.

“Custom made,” you whisper into his ear and Vil freezes. Your cold fingertips trace small circles over his nipple, not quite touching but it’s enough to make him shudder. “I needed something pretty for my pretty Vil.” It’s a statement he’s heard many times in various forms and situations but when it leaves your lips, it’s an absolute ruleーwritten down as a fact stated by your mere belief; a form of blessing when passing your lips and into his ears.

You take Vil’s silence as appreciation for your present with the way his eyes stay glued on the gift. When you take the choker out of the box does Vil finally look at you, a smile on his lips. He stays silent when tilting his head back, baring his neck for you; veins protruding from his skin in a sexy line. The dip to his collarbones is satisfyingly painted with your marks; both faint and new.

Your fingers easily clasp the choker around his neck, wrapped perfectly around him and it makes you vibrate with excitement at how well it fits him. Vil’s eyes cloud over when he looks at you again, smile replaced by the faint tugs of a smirk and you feel the growing bulge of his hardness pressing against you.

“You spoil me too much,” he whispers, head craned to look at you but it seems like a deliberate move to show off his gift.

“Not enough, I would think.” As if reaching an invisible peak, the bubbling desire in your core pops and you’re crashing your lips to the blond’s. The messy sound of kissing and moans spills from both your lips; greedily sucked into the other’s mouth as you start grinding down on the clothed dick under you. “Patience, baby,” you breathe into his ear, fingers tugging his hair in warning. “I’ve got you. Just be good for me, hm?”

Vil lets out a shuddering breath, breathing harshly through his nose and watching with hooded eyes the way you’re unbuttoning his pants. When your fingers curl around his cock, the moan that spills out of Vil’s mouth is sinful. A sound that blesses your ears and stirs you to squeeze him harder.

Each flick of your wrist has Vil’s thighs jumping, head thrown back and choker glinting under the lights. His hands impatiently push your skirt further up your thighs, the material pooling around your hips and in a movement much too practiced, Vil’s fingers rip the dark stockings you’re wearing.

“Patience,” your eyes narrow in warning, fingers tugging at the back of his head and your other hand squeezes his cock in an almost painful grip. Vil pauses at that, blinking at you like a lost child and you ease your hold on him. “Don’t be impatient, Vil,” you coo; smile back on your face.

The hole in your stockings grows larger when you tug at the thin elastis, ripping it down your legs and kicking it away as if it offended you. You stand up from Vil’s lap, giving him a teasing smile as you turn your chair to face your desk.

Vil scoots the chair back to allow you to wiggle in between, sitting back again on his lap and pressing your ass snugly against his cock. Precum smears over the curve of your bottom, skin painted with Vil’s desperation as he digs his face in the crook of your neck, latching his mouth to your skin.

It’s a race against time now; the silent game of which you would provide your attention with between him or your work. The invisible time starts when you pick up your pen.

“It slipped my mind earlier,” soft drags of Vil’s fingers against your skin sends ripples of growing ecstasy. His mouth peppers kisses against the back of your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and smiling against your skin. “You look very beautiful today, as well.” His voice drips with sensual honey; sinful timbres ringing in your ears as he moans.

You’re smiling, eyes skimming over printed words. You clench around nothing when Vil’s hands snake around your torso, his hand playing with your breasts. But you can be quite stubbornーit’s how you grew so successful, afterallーand you’re rather determined to see how far Vil will call for your attention.

He whispers your name, hips rutting against you. You cross out a proposal. The soft flick of his thumb over your nipple makes you pause before you’re changing the documents, resuming your work.

You can practically feel the growing need behind you. The blond growing more and more impatient when it seems his advances aren’t working. It’s because of the nice weather you’re leaning over the table, lifting your ass up in invitation does Vil tense up in excitement, his cock instantly pushed into your tight heat; dragging against your walls and filling you up. Right. Because of the weather, definitely not your crumbling sanity.

It takes almost your entire self restraint to not moan; appreciating the breathy whimper of the blond behind you instead. When you lean back against him, Vil quiets down, hips rolling up into you. “Just a few more minutes, Vil~”

There’s no helping the laugh that leaves your lips when hearing the small, exasperated sigh that leaves his lips.

It doesn’t take the few minutes you expectedーmere seconds for your restraint to crumble when Vil presses himself to your back. His arms hugs you close, hips rolling in a slow drag that makes you feel every inch of his cock buried deep inside you.

“Mommy,”

You freeze, fingers twitching.

“Won’t you spoil me?”

You're throwing your pens and papers away, craning your head back and grabbing the back of Vil’s neck to kiss him. That’s when Vil finally sets a pace and you’re gasping in surprise. “N- needy,” you tease, breath catching in your throat when a particular thrust hits that spot inside you that makes your mind blank.

His pace doesn’t last longーnot when you’re pulling at his hair and holding his knees down. It doesn’t register Vil’s mind the way you swiftly turn around before he’s moaning again when feeling you sink down on his cock. “Did you get lonely?” You smile, pulling at his hair again until Vil’s gasping, his neck fully exposed to you adorned with a pretty collar.

You’re bouncing on his lap in short, quick movements; lips attaching to old bruises and blooming new ones. They’re placed right under his collarbones where it won;t hinder his modeling activity but the thrill of marking him as yours all over again spurs you to bounce harder on his cock.

“Please,” Vil pants, eyes squeezed shut at the multitude of sensations filling him. The tight clench of your pussy wrapped around his cock drives his mind wild. His hair is no longer kept in neat pins, messy and untamed in your hands with each tug to the strands.

You feel the gripling pleasure nearing its peak, your body aching for relief. You’re watching Vil’s expression through the pleasured haze, lips pressing kisses to the underside of his jaw and drawing out small whimpers. “You’re so good for me,” he keens under the praise, gasping for air as he bucks up into you; sharp smacks of skin against skin filling the air.

Vil looks at you when you cup his face, eyes slightly blurry but he sees the smile on your face; directed only at him. “Come for me,” with that final command, a violent shudder rips through Vil’s spine and he’s cumming with a loud gasp; legs shaking as you grind against him, coming soon after.

Your office fills with the smell of sex and soft pants. Vil slumps against your chair in exhaustion, allowing himself to look slightly less elegant as he catches his breath. He’s not allowed much rest when he spots the wide smile on your face; already looking at him with excitement.

“Mommy?” You tilt your head and Vil groans tiredly. “Whaat? You’re the one that said it!”

The blond huffs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Don’t expect me to call you that often. It sounds desperate.”

You give him a shrug, placing your elbows behind you on the desk. “You sounded desperate. It was cute. I liked it.”

That was.. a hint perhaps, Vil thinks. You’ll probably make him say it a lot of times now…

Despite the growing fatigue and how he feels as though he’s in desperate need of showering, Vil gives you a small (though slightly troubled) smile. “I’ll trust you to not abuse your power too much, then..”

You blink, a small laugh leaving your lips. Your fingers trace the gift he’s wearing as you wrap an arm over his shoulder. “Of course,” you agree easily, pecking his lips and Vil grimaces lightly. “I’ll be sure to spoil you lots~”

#specially brewed #vil schoenheit #pomefiore #vil x reader #twst x reader #twst n/sfw #twst scenarios #twst imagines #f!reader #twisted wonderland

271 notes · View notes

blahblahwritings · 5 years ago

Text

Patience is a Virtue.

A/N: Another request, I think this is the most consistent I’ve been with posts.

Request: Would you be willing to write a smut imagine for Matt Murdock? Maybe where the reader/his gf is a virgin?? And have it really fluffy at the end please??

Words: 2764.

Warnings: Smut. Virgin!Reader.

A year. You’d been with Matt Murdock for a year. He’d told you about his... alterego, so to speak before you had even entered the relationship, vowing never to let anything come between you. It took a little while to process it, I mean he was Blind, how did that even work? But, in the end you simply accepted it. Whenever he would come in, beaten and bloody, you would quietly fetch the first aid kit and do your best to patch him up. Those nights always ended in the two of you getting upset, not arguing, just full of soft kisses and teary words of affirmation.

You thought it only fair to disclose your own secret to him, but that came a bit further into the relationship, when things started getting a little heavier. Your make-out session had begun to turn to something more heated when you grabbed his hand, putting an end to it’s descent. When he cocked his head in question, listening to your heartbeat and sensing your anxiety, he pushed back asking you if everything was alright. That was when you’d confessed that you had never gone further than this and wanted to take it slow. Being a Catholic, he understood that people had their reasons and never pressed further, taking it only as far as you were happy with. He loved you dearly and would wait as long as it took until you were ready.

The anniversary, you thought, was the perfect opportunity to take that next step. You’d gone all out, buying soft scented candles that you knew wouldn’t agitate his nose, a trail of rose petals from the kitchen to the bedroom that he would hear crunch beneath his feet and even bought some new lingerie for the occasion. He was working a little later at the office tonight and you had decided to cook for the two of you, setting the table with a soft cloth and a bottle of room temperature red wine in the center. The sauce was bubbling away, the smell of tangy tomato and basil filling the apartment. The pasta was ready and you had begun to dish out as you heard the door click shut.

“What's all this?” He greeted, a lopsided grin sitting on his face. A small giggle left your painted lips, you knew he couldn’t see the deep red colour but it made you feel more confident. You wore a little black dress, complementing his suit and tie you saw him change into this morning. Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you poured the sauce over each plate.

“Happy anniversary, Mr Murdock.” You hummed, angling your head to capture his lips in a chaste kiss. A groan bubbled from his chest. “It smells incredible, sweetheart.” He praised and you laughed, shooing him to the table. You followed, placing the food at your respective seats and popping open the wine. Hearing him inhale as you poured the liquid, you glanced up to see him remove his glasses, revealing his beautiful brown eyes. Returning the bottle to the center, you picked up the glass and raised it in cheers. He gently clinked your cup with his own and sipped lightly, eyebrows raising at the taste.

“I don’t know much about wines but this is definitely expensive.” He chuckled. “You didn’t have to do all this.” Rolling your eyes you put the drink to the side. “I wanted to, you’ve been working hard at the firm lately and I wanted to do something for you. Besides, it's our first anniversary and I wanted to celebrate.” You finished with a shrug, moving to grab the cutlery. “Wait, I got you something. I want to give it to you before we eat.” He fumbled in his jacket pocket and procured a blue velvet box. He handed it to you across the table.

Opening it revealed a card with the words “My love for you is infinite” in shiny gold letters. Beyond the note lay a silver heart shaped pendant, an infinity symbol engraved into the front of it. An audible gasp passed your lips as you plucked it from its cushion.

“Matthew, wow, it’s gorgeous.” A hand covered your heart as you gently thumbed the metal. “Would you mind..” You asked sheepishly, wanting him to do the honours. Without hesitation, he stood, situating himself behind you as you handed him the jewellery. Brushing your hair to the side, his fingers ghosted the skin of your neck sending shivers down your spine. You could feel his hot breath fan over your shoulders as he clasped the necklace, the pendant lying comfortably between your collarbones.

You pulled him down by the tie for a kiss, thanking him for the gift and you returned to your meal, chatting about anything and everything.

Shortly after finishing, you piled the dishes by the sink, ignoring them for now and instead taking his hand, lightly tugging him in the direction of the bedroom. His brows furrowed for a moment as he felt the petals beneath his feet, trailing from the kitchen and past the living room.

“There's something else I wanted to do tonight, Matt.” You admitted quietly, nerves taking over. Opening the partition between the open space and the bedroom, you were both greeted with the soft scent of vanilla. Padding further in you turned to him, unsure of how to go about this. His eyebrows raised in understanding. Moving his hand to your forearm he rubbed the skin there to reassure you.

“I can hear your heartbeat, y/n, I know you’re anxious. You don’t have to do this for me if you’re not ready.” he spoke softly, cocking his head as his eyes looked through you, concern swirling in the irises. You wouldn’t let it get the better of you, though. “I am ready, I just- I don’t know how to uh- start.” At this he huffed out a small laugh, moving toward you. “Well, usually, it starts kind of like this.” He said, connecting your lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. Your hands drifted to his jaw, cupping it as you angled your face to deepen the kiss. His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest and you sighed. As your lips parted, he traced your bottom lip with his tongue asking for permission, you answered by exploring his own mouth eagerly.

Fingers tangled in his hair making him groan and you smiled as you parted for air. A giddy chuckle escaped you as you saw his lips smudged with your lipstick. “That colour suits you, Mr Murdock.” You jeered, thumbing his bottom lip. An amused smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he dipped his head to kiss your palm. Moving in for another kiss, you tugged gently at the bottom of his shirt, tucked away into his pants. He reached to undo the first few buttons before you pulled it over his head, revealing his toned torso.

Breath hitched in the back of your throat as you looked at the hard muscle, scarred from the many fights he’d had. Its not like you hadn’t seen it before, fixing him up after a bad night had at least one perk, but it was different now. There was a desire pooling in your belly and lustful intentions this time.

“Like what you see?” He winked, grinning at the heat rising in your cheeks. You looked away, sheepish but he quickly tilted your chin up to look at him. “You don’t need to be shy around me, y/n.” He reassured, eyes softening as they drifted. His hand moved from your chin, gliding down your neck and shoulders to the zip on the side of your dress. “Are you sure you want this?” He asked again, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.

Your hand met his, guiding it down as the dress loosened and eventually pooled at your feet. The deep red lingerie you’d bought had lace details that he felt as he dragged his hands all over the newly exposed flesh. Featherlight touches roamed your body as he committed every inch of skin to memory. You watched his face as he felt you, the warmth radiating off his body inviting you closer as you waited.

“You’re stunning.” He whispered, you’d have melted right then and there if he hadn’t been holding you. Placing a kiss over his heart, you mapped out every scar you could reach with your lips, hearing him suck in a breath at the intimate gesture. You began to trail lower but he stopped you, frowning. “This is your night, let me take care of you.” Taking off his belt, he slipped his trousers from his legs, revealing a prominent bulge in his boxers. Heat shot to your core, throbbing with need already. There was a slight hesitation as you eyed his size, a little above average and thick.

Hands skimmed your waist sending shivers through you as he walked you backwards towards the bed. You lay down on the mattress, smooth sheets caressing your body. Matt crawled his way up your body, peppering your skin with kisses and licks as he went leaving a blazing trail of electricity in his wake. He stopped to suck marks onto your neck, finding a sweet spot that had you desperately trying to stifle moans.

“I want to hear you, don’t hold back.” He encouraged as he nipped at your jawline. Your hips bucked up, involuntarily grinding against his clothed member and he reacted with a throaty growl. The sound had you soaking through your underwear. The scent of you drove him mad but he kept his composure, leaning down on his elbows to meet your lips once again. His thigh was knelt between your legs providing the lightest of friction as you shifted against him. Moaning into the kiss, you hooked a leg around his hips, trying to bring him closer but he only chuckled, pushing back.

“Someone’s eager. Patience is a virtue, you know.” He teased. His hands found the clasp of your bra and pulled it from your chest. Your hands instinctively twitched to cover yourself but he entwined his fingers with your own and began worshipping your breasts. Licking, sucking and biting the skin, he grazed the hardening nub with his teeth as he palmed the other. Squirming beneath him, you panted at the feeling of his rough calluses against the tender flesh. Your back arched off the bed, frenzied and wanting. Swapping to give each nipple equal attention left you with your head thrown back against the sheets, whining.

Beginning his descent, he licked a stripe along the hem of your panties, fingertips touching you through the material and coming away soaked. Gasping, you looked down at him and saw his smug expression. “You’re so wet for me.” He grinned, rubbing against your clit. A wanton moan ripped through you and had you not been so turned on you’d probably be embarrassed. Your hips moved for more but he removed all contact. Hooking his thumbs through the sides, he pulled them down and discarded them with the rest of the clothes.

Entirely exposed, you felt uniquely vulnerable in front of him even though he couldn’t exactly see you. Those thoughts were forgotten quickly as he tasted you, his tongue lapping up the juices from your entrance and circling your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt that tightness in your abdomen. His expert ministrations caused you to shake and whimper, coming closer to the edge with every flick of his tongue. Your hands dug into the sheets, desperate to hold onto something but he replaced them with one of his own hands, the other teasing your hole. A strangled moan tore from you as he began pumping a single digit in and out of you, tantalisingly slow.

He added a second finger, stretching you ever so slightly but as he curled them inside of you, hitting somewhere you’d never found when by yourself, you spasmed, falling suddenly over the edge. Your breathing was ragged as he continued to eat you out like his last meal, picking up the pace of his fingers as you rode out your orgasm. His name fell like a prayer from your lips as your thighs quaked around him. Your fingernails dug into the back of his hand, the other yanking at his hair making him moan into you, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body.

Pulling his fingers from you, you watched through half-lidded eyes as he licked the slick from the digits, lips glistening with your cum. You grabbed his face, bringing his lips to yours in a fervent kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t get enough of it. Feeling his bulge on your inner thigh, you tugged at the material covering him, watching him kick it to the side. He pulled a wrapper from the bedside table, tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the rubber down his shaft. Your fear returned and he tensed.

“Are you alright? We can stop if you want, I won’t be angry.” He cooed, brushing some hair from your face. You pushed your face into his palm, the warmth calming you almost instantly. “No, I want this, I want you, Matt.” He nodded, a small smile returning. “If it hurts or you’re uncomfortable just-” You cut him off with another kiss, smirking as you pulled back again. “Alright then.” he laughed.

Lining himself up, he pushed the tip into your entrance and you gasped, the feeling of him stretching you only slightly painful. He waited a few moments, mouthing at your pulse point until you moved your hips, signalling him to move deeper. Inch by inch, you took him until he was fully sheathed inside you. His forehead fell against yours as he found a slow rhythm, senses on high alert for any signs of discomfort. All that greeted him however, were moans of pleasure as you met his thrusts halfway. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he guided your legs to wrap around his hips allowing him to reach a little deeper, the feeling of him sliding against your walls becoming blissful.

The stinging had subsided entirely now and Matt became more vocal, chasing after his own release as he reached between you to rub your bundle of nerves. Nails raked down his back creating a wonderful mix of dulled pain and overwhelming pleasure. His lips found yours in a messy kiss, picking up the pace as your breathy moans told him you were close again. You angled your hips ever so slightly as you moved against him which had him perfectly caressing your g-spot with every delicious thrust.

A few more pumps and you were sent plummeting towards your climax, walls clenching and twitching around his cock. Your back arched off the bed and you groaned, breathing faltering as you came for a second time that night but he showed no signs of stopping. He sat up, pulling you into his lap as he continued to pound into you. You hadn’t even come down from your previous high as another began to build and you were screaming his name, curses spewing from your lips as he never failed to hit that spot over and over, relentlessly pinching and circling your clit with two fingers. The stimulation overwhelmed you and you saw stars, vision blacking out he pulled a third orgasm from you, this time his own followed close behind.

Your entire body shook violently as he lay you back down, head against the pillows and pulled out of you, pulling off the condom and tying it before throwing it in the trash can. With your toes still curling as he came to lie beside you, you both panted, breathless from the night’s activities.

“How are you feeling?” He huffed between breaths. A chuckle was your only response, turning to face him in the candlelight. “That was incredible.” You admitted, rubbing your thighs together. A lopsided grin found its way to his face at your words and he pulled you into his chest, ear against his heartbeat which was still elevated. You intertwined your fingers with his and leant up to kiss him.

“I love you, Matt.” You said, nuzzling into his neck with sleep threatening to encompass you.

“I love you too, y/n.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head as you fell into a deep slumber.

#Matt Murdock #matt murdock x reader #virgin!reader #daredevil #daredevil x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #smut #fluff #request

477 notes · View notes

yongjaeten · 5 years ago

Text

Phone Prank {Nakamoto Yuta}

Genre: One-Shot, Smut

Pairing: Dom!Yuta x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Unprotected sex, choking, rough sex, cursing

Word Count: 1,708

Disclaimer: Gif does not belong to me. Credit goes to the owner. I just found it on Google and it was what made the idea to this one shot happen.

A/N: This is NOT a request. I am only writing this one shot, because I have this annoying obsession for Yuta for some time now and he does not want to go away. I don’t mind taking requests as well. If you want me to write something for you, these are the bands I would write for: NCT, EXO, GOT7, Seventeen, Ateez, Monsta X, & Golden Child.

You continued to slowly walk down the entrance with your best friend next to you when your phone vibrated in your hand. You clicked the lock button and the message preview flashed the screen name of: 😍 Toto ❤. You smiled to yourself and immediately felt the butterflies floating around in your stomach. You unlocked your phone using your fingerprint and went into the message folder.

😍 Toto ❤: Hello my princess

Y/N: Hi Yuta.

😍 Toto ❤: Yuta? What happened to calling me Toto? 🙁

You paused before answering him. Yuta noticed that you were taking a few seconds to answer and he shifted in his chair getting a bit agitated. You smiled again and decided to pull a prank on him to see how far he would go with his emotions over you. So, you let your fingers and brain do their magic.

Y/N: I don’t know. I mean…Yuta is your name, right?

You grinned at your sarcastic side and Yuta put his phone down. He removed his jacket and hugged it under his right arm. Mark and Johnny who were on either side of him, glanced at him, then returned to their phones as well. He sighed, picked up his phone, and replied back.

😍 Toto ❤: You're late. Do you know what time is it?

Y/N: Yeah I do. According to my phone it is…11:04AM.

Yuta clenched his jaw in annoyance, leaned back in his seat, and ruffled his hair. He got up from his seat, strolled to the other end of the room, and decided to sit by the table that only had one chair. "She thinks this is fucking funny," he mumbled under his breath as he went to type a message. You saw the three jumping dots appear on your screen and you smirked.

😍 Toto ❤: I need those photos baby. Stop acting like you don't know what time it is. We've talked about this before.

Y/N: No.

😍 Toto ❤: What?

Y/N: Yuta, I…

😍 Toto ❤: You, what??

At this point you was fighting back the urge to laugh out loud. You could picture him clearly in your head – either sexually frustrated or pissed off. But by the way he was replying, he was definitely pissed off. You waited a few seconds, just for the fun of it, and to make him feel more on edge.

Y/N: I don't think we should do this again.

He let out a single laugh: the angriest and most cynical one ever known to mankind. His brows creased downward and he was fighting the urge to fling his phone against the wall. Instead, he took out his frustration at the phone's keypad as he angrily typed a reply.

😍 Toto ❤: What do you mean by 'not do this again'?

Y/N: This. Us. What I do every morning for you. You and me. I would like it to stop, Yuta.

😍 Toto ❤: I don't think I follow along. You're not making any sense baby.

There was a long gap in between your messages and you giggled as you and your friend came out of the elevator. Yuta hated the sudden silence and he combed his hair back with his fingers. His hand glided down his face and he rubbed it. He cupped his chin with his right hand and sighed.

"Come on baby," he pleaded to himself, shaking his leg up and down impatiently. "Don't stop please. I need to see you. I need you." He slightly jumped in his seat when he saw the dots appear on his screen.

What followed next made him completely lose it.

Y/N: I want to break up with you.

The words smacked him right in the face. He got up from his seat and stared blankly straight ahead of him. The rage building up inside of him. He rotated the upper half of his body and viciously threw his jacket against the mirror. Mark and Johnny quickly looked up and watched as he stormed towards the door. He yanked the door towards him angrily and left the room.

"What was that about?" Mark asked Johnny with wide eyes.

"No~ idea," Johnny replied.

Yuta banked the corner of the hall and it wasn’t until your best friend spotted him first. "Oh look. It's Yuta," she said to you. Yuta and you stopped in your tracks when you noticed each other.

"Shit," You muttered and subconsciously grasped tightly onto her left wrist.

"What?" she asked, unaware of what was going on between Yuta and you.

"I am so screwed," you told her as you saw him standing a few feet from the both of you, seething in anger.

He marched his way over to you and your friend and your heart pounded in your chest. "Hi Yuta," your friend casually said.

"Hello B/F/N," Yuta said to her with a forced smile and bow. "Would you excuse us for a while." His smile left his face as quick as it came when he glanced in your direction and grabbed a hold of your arm. "We need to talk," he said to you through gritted teeth and dragged you into the empty room two doors down. He pulled you in first and slammed the door shut behind him. "Break up with me?!" he angrily asked you and roughly pushed you against the door. "I don't think so princess. That's never going to happen."

He yanked the one side of your leather jacket away from your neck and placed his lips harshly on your neck. He sucked on your skin and crawled his right hand up to your neck as he put a firm pressure on it. It was enough to partially cut your breathing circulation, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head. He moved to another section on your neck and bruised it darkly just as he did to the first spot.

He nipped at the skin between his teeth, let it go, and sloppily littered your neck with wet kisses. He moved away from your neck and you bit your lower lip from the electric feeling running through your body. You moaned from the sensation and he planted a rough kiss on your lips. He removed his hold from around your neck and proceeded to take off your jacket.

"You are fucking mines forever," he hissed and began to unbuckle his belt. "I am never letting you get away from me that easily."

He undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his pants along with his brief. He reached for under your skirt and stripped his favorite black laced panty down your legs. You wrapped your legs around his waist and embraced his neck with your arms. He held you in place against the door with his left hand on your waist and positioned his cock into your entrance.

He slammed his dick into your pussy and you gasped out loud from the pleasure. "Oh my – mm!"

"That's right angel. Scream my name. Let everyone know who's making you feel good right now," he said and continued to thrust deeper in you.

He hit your sensitive spot over and over and you tangled your fingers in his hair, slightly pulling on it. He growled in your ear when you pulled his hair and held onto your waist with his other hand as well. Doing that only made his penis slide further up and he rammed himself into your vagina deadlier than before. With the consistency of him pushing against your g-spot and the feeling of his cock pulsating against your walls, you felt the familiar burning sensation in your core building up.

"D-don't stop Yuta," you begged and moaned his name as he kept assaulting your womanhood with his girth and length. "I'm so close baby."

"Oh no. You don't get to fucking cum on my cock princess unless I tell you to," he demanded.

"But Yuta~" you whined and he chuckled darkly at you. "I…I can't hold it in any longer."

His penis twitched and the thick vein on his long member throbbed against your uterus. "Fuck baby," he whispered. "I think I'm going to fucking cum now." His strokes became messier and you whimpered as it drove you over the edge. "Go ahead princess. Cum with me."

As soon as he gave you the go, you released your juices all over his shaft, and he squirted his warm, stringy white seed in you. You both hungrily tangled your tongues together, fighting for dominance, until you both came down from your high. Yuta and you separated your mouths and he trailed several kisses from the center of your chin to your neck and down to your collarbones. You removed your legs from his waist and he took out his penis. You unhooked your arms from around his neck and made to grab your stranded panty from off the floor, but he stopped you. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and pressed his forehead against yours.

"Please don't leave me Y/N," he said and you heard the vulnerability in his voice. "I-I don't know what I'd do without you."

You smiled at him and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "I wasn't planning on it. You mean the world to me Yuta."

He let out a relieved laugh and said, "Aishiteru."

You grinned stupidly at him and replied in a baby voice with an, "I love you too, Toto," while grabbing onto his chin. "I was just messing with you about the whole break up thing, by the way," you told him as you picked up your panty from the floor. He pulled up his brief and pants and fixed his clothes. "I think you know what I'm wearing underneath," you said as you twirled the underwear around your index finger and winked at him. “Do you still want those photos?”

He smirked seeing the material being ridden up your bare thighs and felt himself getting aroused again. “I do baby,” he said. “So I can look at it when I’m alone.” You adjusted your skirt and he helped you into your jacket. “Let's go," he said grabbing hold of your left hand and intertwining your fingers together.

#nct #nct yuta #nct yuta nakamoto #nct smut #smut #yuta nakamoto #yuta #nakamoto #yuta smut #dom yuta #nct 127 #nct 127 scenarios #yuta scenarios #nct imagines #yuta imagines #nctinc #nct inc

221 notes · View notes

cyberghouleo · 6 years ago

Text

Sleep Tight {Smut}

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Warnings : Somnophilia, creampie

Words: 1.8k

A03 Link:

You felt your eyelids start to droop as your boyfriend thrusted in and out of you, the sound of your thighs meeting together staying consistent over the multiple rounds that had happened. You didn’t plan on counting on how many times he would edge you and refuse to let you cum, since you thought it would have been over in a few minutes, not lasting for over an hour. Oh, how wrong you were. You felt as if you were already edged endlessly and was only allowed to cum a handful of times, pouting whenever he would slow down his hard thrust or stop completely and initiate a heavy makeout session to try to calm your pleasure. You wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing softly against his collarbone as his thrusts started to slow down for what seemed to be the umpteenth time this night.

“Getting tired again baby?” he cooed out, which you only gave a weak nod to, as your head was rested against his shoulder. “Aww, try to get some sleep then.” if you were fully awake, you would have commented on how his tone sounded more pitying than genuine, but you were just focused on getting some sleep. You nested your head flat against his bicep, closing your eyes as you felt yourself start to finally doze off, letting the fatigue of sleep take over.

He stared down at your resting form, your cheeks still looking soft despite the lewd blush that was just starting to fade. Your long eyelashes now being fully presented to him as you rested peacefully on him. Your pink plush lips partly open as the gentle breaths fanned over his skin. And it was all his. You were his to keep.

How cute.

His hands rested right above your hip bones, his fingers tracing up and down your sides before he thrusted fast and roughly into you, making you awake from your sleep with a soft mewl and tightened up around him in either surprise or pleasure, but he could care less which one it was. He continued to thrust into you, chuckling as you let your mouth part open even more and spit started to spill over your lips and onto his shirtless chest. Your nails dug into his back as you whined, your eyes still remaining closed as he continued to fill you.

“How was your rest darling,” he teased, and you only whined, your mind far too out of it to be able to give a real response. He removed one of his hands from your hips, giving your cheek a light slap. “Alright wake up now, we’re about to play a game,” you opened your eyes and looked up at him, his ruby glare looking down at you in another teasing way.

You pulled back from his chest and forced yourself to sit up straight in front of him, feeling his gaze as he took in your naked figure before he looked back up at you. His hand trailed up from your sides, sliding up your arm and over your collarbone before he cupped your chin, dragging his thumb against your bottom lip, rubbing back and forth as you gave him a tired yet still desperate look. He tugged your lip down softly, opening your mouth more as you stuck out your tongue, so used to being told to do so, which was now just out of habit. He muttered a quick “good girl” under his breath before his hand completely, just letting his fingers ghost over your collarbones and shoulders.

“You ready for this game now?” he asked, and you nodded along, feeling a little more awake than you were a few moments ago. “I want to sleep with you, while you cockwarm me. If you don’t wake me up and we both sleep with my dick still inside you, then I’ll reward you tomorrow. How’s that sound princess?” You nodded along eagerly, but his hand quickly slid up to your throat and gave a testing squeeze, almost as a warning to you. “Say it.” His tone came out dark and smoother than what it was a few seconds ago. “Yes, I want to sleep with your cock inside me, Katsuki.” You agreed as you felt your cheeks start to heat up.

His hand pulled away from your throat and rested on your lower back, pushing you onto his chest as your face nuzzled back into his neck. He ran his fingers through your hair lazily as he traced small circles on your back, the feeling of your chest falling up and down against his and your breath against his neck was starting to become a calming sensation to him. “Go to sleep then love,” he muttered as he felt himself slowly start to become drowsier.

The first thing that had brought him out of his sleeping state was the feeling of something moving along his thighs, the friction now feeling foreign after a few hours of sleep. He let out an aggravated groan while rubbing his eyes, trying to adjust from his sudden wake. Once his eyes and mind started to focus on what was happening, he had just then realized the current situation. You were grinding lazily on him, your fingers tangled within the sheets that you were gripping, soft whines muttering out of you as you continued to try to get some friction between the two of you. He felt a smirk starting to appear, resting his head on top of yours before he started to degrade you.

“Heh, are you really that needy for my cock that you just had to force yourself to grind against me in the middle of the fucking night,” he teased in a humiliating tone, but was only met with the same silence as before. “So you’re just going to use me for your own fucking pleasure and not even respond back,” he tilted his head back to get a better look at you as you laid your head against his chest, starting to reach for your hair to give it a tug before he realized your eyes were still closed. His paused his movements, watching you as you were still sleeping and grinding against him.

“Holy fuck,” was the only thing he could mumble before he let out a short chuckle, his hands trailing back down to your hips like previously. He gave your face one last look, he couldn’t wait to ruin your sleep with the feeling of his thrusts. He pulled back his hips, angling himself so he was able to full you in the deepest way he could. Both of his hands were rested on top of your waist before he pounded into you with a powerful thrust.

The movement of his constant rough thrusts made you stir awake, a whine instantly coming out of your mouth as your body bounced against his. You were still in a confused state on what was currently happening to you, but all you could do was tighten up around him and clench the sheets tighter into your hands. Once you were able to focus on what was happening, you moaned at the feeling of him filling you up once again, the movement very different from when you were just cockwarming him.

“Finally, awake princess? It’s kinda pathetic that you’re just that desperate for my cock, even in your sleep. Couldn’t wait till morning, huh?” He muttered near your ear, his humiliation only making you wetter. Quickly, his fingers found their way into your hair and gave it a yank, forcing you to pull back enough to be able to look him in the face. “Answer me.”

“Yes, it’s pathetic!” You mewled out louder than you expected, you were tired of being teased and edged, you just wanted to be able to release already. “Good girl. Now that your awake, show me how desperate you are,” he suggested as he placed his hands behind him, his thrusts now completely stopping, meaning you were going have to use him to fuck yourself with.

You placed your hands on his bare chest, readjusting yourself on his lap before you started to lift up, feeling his veins glide against your walls before you sank back down onto his lap, a whine coming out as your eyes closed shut. You started to bounce up on down on him, your fingernails starting to rake down his chest and abs, small red lines starting to appear across him. His fingers came up to grope your breast, teasing and rolling the nipple between his digits, making the feeling of the sudden groping and his twitching dick even better. You felt yourself starting to get closer, your riding becoming slower and sloppier as you were about to reach your end. His hands wrapped their way around your waist, picking you up only to push you back onto the bed, him now on top of you as you were spread out in front of him.

He took a minute to admire the view of you. Your arms were rested at your side, your legs spread out for him, your tits still bouncing from being thrown down on the bed and your chest heaved up and down as you tried to catch your breath. Your lips parted open as your cheeks were starting to get red, your skin glowing in the moonlight from the sweat that had started from the steamy sessions, a sight he would never be able to get over. You looked so inviting to him, only for him. Nobody else would see you in this position, and he absolutely loved that. He grabbed your legs, pulling them apart further before he thrusted back into you, making you give out a small yelp of surprise from the feeling. His grip on your legs started to tighten as his thrusts became faster, filling you up deeper than what you were used to. You started to feel your stomach tighten up, you both knew you were close and was about to cum at any moment. He removed his hand only so he could start rubbing your clit in a counterclockwise motion, making you moan his name out as your back started to arch in pleasure.

“Just cum already, you know you want to babygirl,” he muttered to you through his clenched teeth, groans of his own escaping every now and then. You took your opportunity and let your pleasure go, your orgasm taking over as your back arched even more, your toes curling as you moaned out in pleasure.

He came soon after, relentlessly pounding into you throughout his own orgasm, his thick warm seed coating the inside of your walls, the sensation making you shiver as your nipples started to stiffen up even more. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds before he pulled out, the cum sliding out and onto your inner thighs. He stared as it drizzled out for a few more moments before he gave a smirk, glancing back up to your breathless form. He grabbed a blanket and placed it over you, which you quickly accepted and cuddled up with. He climbed in bed beside you, sliding into the blankets and pulled you closer to him, pressing kisses into your neck and shoulders.

“Get some sleep babe, you’re going to need it for tomorrow's punishment.”

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha #bnha katsuki #bnha bakugou #mha #mha bakugou #bakugou #bakugou smut #mha smut #my hero academia #katsuki bakugo imagine #Smut #back at it again with writing some weird ass concepts lmao #sorry for not posting in like 2 weeks #im still recovering from end game so thats why ive had no inspo to write at all haha #thanks for reading these long ass tags lmao

3K notes · View notes

rebelskylar · 6 years ago

Text

Namgi in Heat (Hybrid!Yoongi x Hybrid!Namjoon x Reader)

Type: Headcannon

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader, Yoongi x Reader, Namjoon x Yoongi

Word Count: 2k +

A/N: Who wants some Daddy Joon and Yoongi oppa?

To the anon who requested a Hobi oneshot ages ago: idk if you’re even here anymore, I’m sooooo sorry, I’m definitely going to write it, please accept this till I do?

· You were not the type of person that commanded a lot of attention when you walked into a room. With your small stature and unassuming look, you could blend in quite easily in a crowd. Your h/c coloured hair cascaded down your shoulders in soft waves, making you seem even smaller than you were and your large e/c coloured eyes, despite being one of your best features, were not domineering enough for people to notice you. Simply put, you were a meek girl who was quite often overlooked in the grand scheme of things

· At least, that was what you were hoping for

· All of this changed when your two bulky testosterone filled alpha male hybrid boyfriends walked in behind you. There was no way in hell that anybody could not notice them. Their very presence brought about a horde of awestruck gazes, accompanied by a certain amount of fear, truth be told. You suppose this was not completely unaccounted for. You felt the same way when you first met them, but that’s a story for another time.

· Kim Namjoon was a Wolf hybrid. As a human, he was a calm and collected guy but since his personality traits were also ruled by his animal side, his cunningness and passive aggressiveness were also quite noticeable. He stood at a good height of 6 feet and 2 inches, and even his now freshly coloured blonde hair (which you had insisted on) did not do much in the way of making him appear a bit softer. His tall, structure usually scared off people from the get-go. His usual attire consisted of a black leather jacket with his hair swept off his forehead in a perfect curl, and thick rimmed glasses

· Min Yoongi was a good few inches shorter than Namjoon, but could, in no way, be overlooked. He was a Siberian husky hybrid with small ears peeking out from his head of fluffy black hair, but that was just about the only thing anybody could label as cute about him. He was more muscular than Namjoon was, and still taller than you (and most other people). Tattoos adorned one entire arm of his and extended all the way down to his torso, and the one that he was most proud of was the bold lettering of your name scrawled across his chest. He had a silver nose ring, and one instance of eye contact with him was enough for people to run for cover. Might be a little insensitive of you to say, but he was the kind of guy that people would cross the road to avoid.

· You have no idea how you ended up with them.

· Despite their appearances, what people failed to realize was that in reality, these two were actually just pure balls of fluff. They were sweet, caring, and highly appreciative of you. They were never rude or violent to anyone unless absolutely necessary, even though both their breeds had these tendencies. Namjoon’s favourite food was spaghetti, for God’s sake. Yoongi loved babies. If that wasn’t enough to convince someone, you don’t what would be.

· The only way they had ever displayed their anger was sulking around the house, or giving you large sad puppy eyes until you caved in and finally bought them whatever junk they were craving (or spaghetti, in Namjoon ‘s case). After that, they would huddle around you all night and nuzzle against your neck to show their appreciation. You couldn’t have wished for sweeter hybrids.

· *coughs* Their heats, however, were a different story altogether.

· It was a Friday evening. You had just returned home from a tiring day at work and wanted nothing more than a warm bath and a cup of tea to lull you to sleep. The constant stupidity of your employees was beginning to bug you, and you don’t think you could have taken any more of it.

· On stepping into the house, you were pleasantly surprised to find Jungkook on your couch, squeezed between your boyfriends, engaged in a heated video game. You almost cooed at how adorable the baby bunny hybrid looked between them, undoubtedly trying his best to beat them.

· You announced your presence and before Namjoon and Yoongi even got to acknowledge you, Jungkook jumped out of the sofa and leaped over to hug you. He may have been timid around you at first, but now had no inhibitions whatsoever about barrelling to you and asking for cuddles. You were pretty sure he considered you one of his most favourite human beings on the planet (aside from Jimin, of course). Your boyfriends didn’t mind him most of the time, usually not too swayed when he cuddled with you and practically had his chin on your head half the time when he was with you, so you didn’t hesitate to envelop him in a hug and fluff his hair affectionately. You didn’t even flinch when he nosed his way into your neck, used to the habits of hybrids by now.

· That was, until a loud growl ripped from Yoongi’s throat.

· Jungkook and you froze, slowly turning your heads to look at the source of the sound. You were a bit confused, he had never done that before. “Do you smell her?”, he asked. You opened your mouth to ask him what he was talking about, but then realized that his question was directed to Namjoon.

· “Yes”, Namjoon replied, his voice just as low and hoarse as Yoongi’s. “Do you think Jungkook’s doing it on purpose?”. His eyes were trained on the male in question, who by now had his ears flattened to the back of his head.

· “No, of course not”, Yoongi replied. “I don’t think he can smell her. And even if could, it wouldn’t matter. He’s mated to Jimin.”

· “Guys.” You had finally mustered up the courage to speak. Both Namjoon and Yoongi turned to look at you, their eyes dark. “What is going on? Why are you growling at Kookie?”

· Your question was met with silence for a while, until finally, Namjoon decided to speak up. “Jungkook, you need to leave. Call up Jimin and tell him to pick you up, but for now, lock yourself in Yoongi’s room. Don’t come out. Y/N’s ovulating, and we have some…stuff to do.”

· Jungkook’s cheeks turn pink at his words. “He doesn’t have to lock himself in the room”, you say. “This has happened before. I’m pretty sure you can control yourselves until Jimin comes over, right?”

· “No, Y/N.”, Yoongi says. “What hasn’t happened before, is your ovulation period and both of our heats falling in the same period. We know Jungkook is mated with Jimin, but we can’t stand the presence of another male, and we’re barely controlling ourselves right now. I personally want nothing else but to rip his head off.”

· Jungkook lets go of you at Yoongi’s statement and quickly situates himself next to the front door. “Y/N”, he squeaks. “I’ll go wait outside for Jimin. He’ll hardly take any time to come here. Bye.” He’s gone before you can blink, and you slowly turn to face your boyfriends.

· Yoongi is gripping the couch so hard you’re pretty sure he’s ripped it. “Namjoon”, he says. “Can I please go first?”

· “Go ahead. You have really bad self control.”, Namjoon snickers.

· “I would have argued, but I’m way too gone right now.”,says Yoongi. “ Y/N, sweetheart, won’t you come here and sit on your oppa’s lap?”

· You gulp at his sugary sweet tone, and slowly make your way over to them. They’re looking at you like you’re their prey, eyes following each small movement right up until you reach them. You quickly situate yourself on Yoongi’s lap, and let him sniff your neck and lap at it. It doesn’t take too much for you to start feeling aroused, and you start panting as his ministrations at your neck start getting heavier. His hands leave your back to roughly rip open the top few buttons of your blouse, taking your bra with them. He wastes no time in cupping both of your tits as he starts suckling on a particular spot on your neck, and you can literally feel the slick flowing out of you.

· You gasp when you feel another set of cold hands brushing up your thighs. They slip your panties off your legs and you can’t help but moan at the sight of Namjoon holding them up to his nose and breathing in deeply. “Sorry baby”, Namjoon grins, “Daddy needed something to help him get by.”

· Yoongi’s mouth has moved to your boobs, and his hands are now pulling up your skirt to claw at your ass. He grunts as he involuntarily ruts himself against you, and you whine as you feel the material of his jeans stimulating your clit. Your juices are soaking his pants, and he just loves how good you smell.

· You start humping him in earnest, and that’s when he knows he needs to be inside of you, now. He quickly picks you up, only to set you down on the floor on your back, and pauses momentarily to zip down his jeans and pull himself out. He’s so thick that you can already feel your mouth water. He glides his cock across your folds, gathering all your slick and spreading it across his head. A whimper leaves you. You can’t wait for him to be inside you.

· Just as he pops the head of his cock in, Namjoon pulls Yoongi back by his shoulder and stops him. You whine as you feel his girth leaving you, and Yoongi, just as confused as you, turns back to ask Namjoon what the hell he thinks he’s doing. “Don’t look at me like that”, Namjoon chuckles. “I have an idea. Why don’t you sit on the couch and fuck her, and I’ll sit on the floor and watch.”

· Yoongi’s mouth curves into a smile. Without warning, he picks you up by your arms and takes you with him as he sits on the couch. Then he turns you around so that you are facing Namjoon. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he pulls you onto his hips, pushing his cock into you without preparation.

· “Fuck baby”, he groans. You swallow a moan. “I barely kissed you, and you’re so wet? So fucking wet for your oppa?”. His hands dig into your hips as he feels you trying to grind your pussy against him.” “Stop it, slut. Sit still and take it. “. It takes you everything not to pout at his sudden rough words. “Show Daddy your pussy.”

· Namjoon looks in hunger as you spread your legs, exposing yourself to him. His tongue flicks out and licks his canines. He has already pulled his dick out of his pants and is stroking himself. “How does it look, Joon?”,asks Yoongi. “How does my cock look in her pussy?”. “It looks fucking delectable.”, Namjoon replies, leaning forward to lick a strip up from Yoongi”s dick to your folds. Your brain stops functioning as you feel his tongue on you. Yoongi jolts, loving the feeling against his balls.

· Namjoon delves right back in, lapping at the place where you and Yoongi are joined. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as the squelching sound fills the room, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You keen as his nose brushes against your clit and start rutting yourself against Yoongi’s dick, unable to help it. Namjoon moves down to completely envelop Yoongi’s balls into his mouth, earning a grunt and a few curse words from the older man.

· As soon as he starts bouncing you on his dick, Namjoon chooses to move upwards and start licking at your nipples. You bring your hands to his head, threading your fingers in his hair and pushing him closer to you, shuddering. When he has given your boobs equal attention, he goes to kiss you. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, sucking hard on your tongue. Your hand wraps around his dick, pumping rapidly.

· Yoongi grunts as his thrusts become more rapid. He pulls Namjoon’s mouth to his own, licking into it as his hand joins your own as he plays with the younger boy’s balls. Namjoon shivers and comes with a growl, covering your hands with his release. The image of both of your boyfriends kissing is enough for you too, and everything fades to white as you come.

· Feeling you squeezing his cock, Yoongi groans, and he frantically thrusts into you, desperate for his own orgasm. You reach behind him with your hand to stroke his tail, and he makes an animalistic noise as his dick slips out of you and sprays cum over Namjoon’s chest.

· All of you are panting by the time Yoongi’s done. Namjoon gently picks you up from the other male’s lap, and you slowly drift off to sleep in his arms as he carries you to the bedroom. You barely register Yoongi’s lips against your forehead as you fall into a deep slumber.

A/N: This is not edited. Lemme know if you’d like a part 2!

#Namgi #BTS #BTS oneshot #yoongi oneshot #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #bts hybrid #hybrid smut #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hybrid!yoongi #hybrid!rm #bts smut #bts fluff #smut #hybrid

1K notes · View notes

bubmyg · 6 years ago

Text

wonder - jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre/warnings: pool boy/waiter/kind-of-baker/first-aid-extraordinaire/aspiring singer!jeongguk(ft. cherry!guk), writer/journalist!reader, the CHEESIEST fluff, tiny amounts of angst, a bad attempt at original poetry, there is a tiny blood mention

word count: 14,906

summary: romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net.

a/n: this is. the longest fic i’ve ever written. also the longest i’ve ever worked on a fic (...a month ajfdks) and im really proud of it :-( i hope u like it :-(

There’s a certain breaking point for an advice columnist, one that isn’t supposed to come three years into the job and over a handwritten letter from a nine year old who has just had her dream of becoming a vet shattered by this sudden discovery that she, in fact, passes out when she sees any type of blood. Or if that breaking point comes, the draft of the response isn’t supposed to make it past an unsaved document, (Dreams are a scam, anyway. Learn that.) scrapped and used as emotional support to formulate the real answer.

There’s a nine year old little girl who rushes to the paper for a week after sending her letter, hoping to find some sort of solace in the advice column she finds fascinating, generally filled with advice on things she doesn’t have the capacity to understand: cheating husbands, the capitalist nature of the makeup industry, why “business casual” isn’t a reward for women, and taxes. She’s memorized her opening line enough to have her heart racing into her throat when she catches sight of it on its usual page, her letter transcribed and italicized just above the tiny portrait of the columnist and the bold font that would be her response.

Her mother finds her sobbing on her bed fifteen minutes after she called for her to come to dinner and consoles her enough to acknowledge that being a Disney princess is just as good of an aspiration as a vet, not before writing a strongly worded letter addressed to the editor of the paper and canceling the family’s subscription.

There’s a different document you should have scrapped completely, the sixty-seventh page of your never ending novel, never ending in the sense that it would never end because you were going to give up on everything with the exception of the column for the next day: an obscure sex toy shop escapade that isn’t fit for the nine year old and her canceled subscription in the first place.

You’d been glaring at the grainy lines across your monitor, ones that cut through the middle of the words on the sixty-sixth page, when Hoseok’s figure glided past the glass wall of your office to enter without knocking.

He cleared his throat and you turned slowly from the monitor, as if your gradual spiral cascading to a head had brought an end to your cordiality as well. There was a paper in his hand, the day prior’s edition, ink thick on the outside where a picture of a local elementary school’s service project was displayed. He opened it silently, turning to a page, your page, outlined heavily in red ink pen.

The gold links of Hoseok’s watch reflected off your monitor as the paper smacked and slid its way across your desk, forcing you to wince for two separate reasons.

“I’m sorry—”

Hoseok withdrew his latter hand from the pocket of his black slack and your fingers itched to close out of your novel but his gaze was steady on the blinking cursor next to a piece of grammar you’d fiddled with six separate times.

“Any progress?” You blinked at him and he jerked his head in the direction of your desktop, black fringe parting against his eyelashes so his dark eyes dropped a deeper shade of black.

There was a raw spot ready for you on the inside of your cheek and the taste of stale metallic flooded your tongue. Your legs unfurled from where they’d been folded up underneath you in your desk chair, gaze sweeping to the wilting ficus underneath your desk, “Not exactly…”

Papers fluttered together and you caught sight of the dogeared letter from the little girl as Hoseok brushed a bare spot on the corner of your desk to take a seat. There was a smiling cartoon character patterned to the surface of his short-sleeved button up and it’s smiling muzzle appeared to mirror that flit of an upturn on the edge of Hoseok’s dimpled lips. The subtle cock of his chin was anything but of praise, sympathy more so bleeding out the strict in his dark irises as he sighed.

“I understand this job and this column are not your first love,” He mirrored the snarky response that swallowed on the back of your tongue, “Hell, this probably isn’t even your third or fourth love.”

“But I do expect you to uphold a certain level of professionalism in your column. I’ve never had an issue with you in the past. In fact, I nearly stopped looking over your submissions before sending things to print,” Hoseok leaned forward, elbow on his thigh, chin on curled, ring clad knuckles, “However, as of recent…”

“It won’t happen again, Hoseok. I swear, I was just—”

You quieted when his fingers curled outward from underneath his chin. “...this was not the first column as of recent that hasn’t exactly been up to par.”

Quieter, barely a breath, you nodded, “I’m sorry.”

Hoseok’s index finger straightened, leaning from his lips to press into the side of your monitor, tapping his nail against the screen, “I know how much this means to you. I know how little progress comes when inspiration comes. I know that inspiration doesn’t just strike when we ask it to. I get it, I really do.”

“...and I think some time away from here, from this place, from your column, would do you wonders.”

There was something defensive in your next inquiry, “What are you saying?”

“I’m giving you the summer off—” His finger wagged in your direction when you choked, “—no I’m making you take the summer off.”

“The whole—”

“Two months. Away from here, as in, I’m sending you to the coast for two months. Beach house, all to yourself, all-expense paid. Except for your food, I know you like—”

You squinted at him, “What?”

“Namjoon,” Hoseok provided and you tensed at the name of his friend, a high-powered executive at a publishing company you’d failed three times over to score an internship at, “He really understands the plight you’re going through. It’s his house.”

“There has to be a catch.”

“Yes, I’m giving Jimin your column while you’re gone.”

You grit your teeth at the mention of Hoseok’s blonde headed assistant and Hoseok chuckled at the reaction he desired, “I’m kidding. I mean, I am giving him your paper space. But, Namjoon said, providing that you make some sort of sizable progress on your manuscript, he’ll review it.”

“What?”

“You’re my friend. He’s my friend,” He plucked your turtle shaped paper weight into his palm, tracing it with the same index finger, “I want the best for you and I want my employee’s to be working at their utmost capacity. Namjoon can never have too many clients—” He made eye contact with you when he set the turtle down, “—and he probably owes me some sort of favor.”

Your gaze wandered out the window, eyeing a taxi as it sped away from the curb and forced its way into the flow of traffic. “All because I told a nine year old that Disney princesses’ aren’t real, huh?”

“No,” Hoseok’s hand covered one of yours, patting gently, “Because you’re better than this version of you. And I miss her, frankly. Old you used to bring me coffee in the mornings, so—”

“That’s when I was in Park Jimin’s position.”

“Jealous?”

“No,” Your jaw clenched but the smile on your lips was tiny and genuine regardless, “Thank you, Hobi.”

He hummed, pushing himself up off your desk to trail around toward the door, “Put your novel away, you have two months at the beach to work on that. Submit tomorrow’s column and then get your ass out of here. You have a flight to pack for.”

You weren’t sure if it were the wet tropical air that clung to your hair follicles or the grains of sand already wedged underneath the platform of your sandal but stepping off the plane gave you at least the vague sense that your inspiration was back. You itched for the keys on your laptop, letters worn and granules of salt from potato chips lodged in between, the space bar with two glossed circles from the unconscious tap of the side of your thumbs.

But the device was lodged in your backpack which was lodged between your shoulder blades as you tried to balance the lopsided baggage while maneuvering the cheap wheels of your suitcase over cobblestone sidewalks.

The keypad granted you entry when you’d barely pressed down on the last number of the combination you were given and your suitcase thanked you when sand rippled stepping stones became smooth, white tile. You nudged the luggage aside, dropping your backpack from your shoulders in the process of the long exhale you released from tense muscles, sand splaying messily over sleek flooring as you peeled your sandals from your ankles.

The house was open concept, white tile outlined in golden, sand like consistency, flooring that disappeared from the entryway to the wide room in the middle and down a short hallway that pointed into a wide, sliding glass door. Stainless steel appliances encased by black cabinets and white marble countertops, blue accent pieces and a fruit bowl filled with plastic treats completed the kitchen while compact leather furniture in the same hues boxed in a towering entertainment center on the opposite end of the room.

Your bare feet welcomed the shag grey rug that resided under the living room furniture, carrying you toward the various DVDs peeking out of the glass case underneath the TV. Nature documents sandwiched a singular copy of The Notebook, the cover worn and tattered underneath plastic from being parted so many times.

He’ll like her then and your fingertips twitched at your thighs in search of your laptop keys.

You turned a collection of faux grapes in your palms, pressing into the waxy material, eyes squinted for the typed letter lodged underneath the wire basket.

Welcome! I trust that you’ll find your accommodations satisfactory for a few months, yes? I’m eagerly awaiting your progress, Hoseok speaks very highly of you and your skills. Happy writing!

Underneath was a bulleted list of contact numbers and a FAQOTH (Frequently Asked Questions of the House), trash days, the number of the nearest pizza delivery, the code to the shed outside that contained noodles and an inflatable flamingo for the pool. It was skimming that provided you with that information and your brain short circuited on the mention of a pool, abandoning memorization in favor of your bare feet scuffing across the warmed concrete of the pool deck.

If the pesky sand rubbing raw at the arches of your feet or the palm trees you’d spotted out the windows of the plane weren’t enough to immerse you in the mindset, the clear blue of chlorine tainted water twitched at your knuckles just a fraction more, especially as engulfed by a privacy fence and vining vegetation cut neatly through the rungs of thick white.

Your stomach argued for lunch from one of the pizza places Namjoon had suggested and your heaping luggage argued for organizing the white wicker drawers in your bedroom but your gut said your laptop and your swimsuit. You were pressed onto a candy-striped towel in a lounge chair with the sun trickling at the sweat on your hairline before any other option could out weight, your clothes half strewn in the entryway of the house where you’d dug for the spandex material but forgotten as you furiously hacked away at editing your outline.

You bolded the newest addition to your outline inside your outline, the one that held all the tropes you wished to tackle in the sensical nonsensical manner that was a novel centered around the beauty of clichés. If other authors avoided clichés at all cost, the adverse relationship of shoving any and all that you could correlate between the confines of two plastic ends and a spine could produce a similar effect, pique the interest if marketed as the cliché of all clichés, work against and for itself between worlds of bubblegum high school romance and stale mint flavored coworkers, strangers, and enemies to lovers.

Besides, eliminating stereotypes within clichés counted for something in itself. A commentary on something much larger, at least, you liked to think it was.

SEND THEM TO A BEACH HOUSE appeared directly beneath THE SPAGHETTI SCENE FROM LADY AND THE TRAMP BUT WITH EXCESS CHEESE FROM A PIECE OF PIZZA and the giddiness from typing it out had you overloading the software with how quickly you switched documents to your outline outline, swiping your index finger until the setting appeared and you deleted it in one long, blue highlight.

You thought back to the young adult romance you’d read in high school that had taken place in a beachside town, then to the very same romantic thriller you adored as an adult, to the whimsical short story you’d written in an undergraduate, elective creative writing class, to the first time you’d dug your toes into slightly damp sand and let the soothe of the waves lap at your ankles and the fall of your eyelids to be as dark as the never ending water disappearing over the horizon.

Nothing is more cliché than a beachside town, you thought and spoke the words all the same, shoulders hunching over your keyboard as you clacked the same sentence across the screen and quickly deleted it to amend more specifically. It was the most you’d typed, switched tabs for research, and had the curled feeling of anticipation for what would flow from your fingers in the last year and you briefly wondered if Namjoon had pumped something into the seashell shaped air fresheners stuck in every outlet in the house.

Your trusty search engine provided little response for “beachside towns with little to no tourism” and you instead found yourself typing in the name of the city you’d directed your cab to from the airport, a homage to the sudden rush of inspiration. More details flowed than necessary but you allowed them in the haze of humidity and sun, the name and country and zip code following out next to the bolded location bullet point until your cursor dropped down to the third line and you cut yourself on the words Sunny Drive, where the speed limit signs end in threes?

You cracked your knuckles first, then your toes, then rolled your ankle to pop it, too, crooked fingers still sat on the middle row of the keyboard, asdf-jkl;, tapping in tune with the hum that slipped through your sealed lips.

The high top of a golf cart cruised over the links of the white fence encasing you in your writing utopia, the whir dying as the vehicle rounded the corner. Your fingers were back in action, deleting the modest, white four door sedan assigned to your main character in favor of a high-powered golf cart that you’d research later if realistically existed.

Somewhere in the distance was the call of a bird, traveling over the thrash of the waves onto the shore just in reach beyond the tops of houses suspended on frames around the boardwalk. It was the call of a sea gull or something of the same variety, but you considered giving your main character a parrot and added an entire new section of your outline for the very plot piece.

Something bubbled in the depth of the pool stretched at the end of your pointed ankles, something that had curled into the filter and elicited a burst of air. In your head, you extended the pool by significance on either side and gave your protagonist the trait of an accomplished swimmer in high school.

Nothing more cliché that dropping some characters into a seaside town, one with a parrot, a tricked-out golf cart, and an affinity for swimming rather than surfing like her love interest, antagonistic counterpart and his four door sedan with a dent in the side and caked sand on the rims.

Three documents over was your actual manuscript, one you marked with various highlights to change major plot points later. A major rehaul of location but worth it for the electricity snagging and pushing your joints to click across the keys. Your brain left a footnote to revamp the scene you’d left your characters at, previously at a crossroads of figuring out the vibe in their acquaintance, stuck in a grocery store with the love interest clutching a bouquet of flowers and squinting at your protagonist.

It was quickly changed to a late night scene at a beach, the bouquet of flowers instead a ghost crab and the line of dialog a do you want to hold him? rather than the, awkward albeit, I could buy these for you? To give to your mom, of course—

And then the artificial blue of the water behind you seemed to engulf your laptop screen, draining it into a lower quality of pixels and blurred lines that categorized your work computer, the giant stone turtle hidden behind a bush of thick vegetation shrinking into your paper weight, the line of documents open across your screen erasing into your next column that, for some reason, included every curse word you could imagine in angry red font.

A tiny emoticon reminiscent of the talking paperclip from early Microsoft word processing appeared in the corner, but in the shape of Park Jimin.

In short, you were stuck, the fire of inspiration eager to boil in the pit of your stomach evaporating like the footprint on the pool peck after you’d dipped a singular foot in. You’d transported back to your office in the uncomfortable desk chair stolen from the insurance office a story down with Park Jimin breathing down your neck for your position by bringing Hoseok coffee every morning but in a slightly better quality than you had, because it was handmade with love in the longue, with a novel that was no closer to being finished than it had been when you’d fell in love with the concept and got paid to outline the entire thing not a week into your position at the newspaper (and in between running Hoseok coffee and trying to hide your work in the limited privacy of your cubicle).

A massive control + Z was in order and the fingers on one hand stretched to do just that on the first of three documents, latter cuticles shoved in between your teeth to nibble miserably on. You’d erased any mention of a beachside town and ripped away the sticky note on the inside of your conscious that suggested touching a ghost crab for romance when something rough and cold dripped against the outside of your thigh.

Confusion caused you to place your laptop to the concrete below your chair and terror caused the startled gasp to bubble out of your throat at the sheepish looking figure stood knee deep on the pool stairs.

“Uh, hello,” The figure had obnoxious red hair to match the obnoxious yellow shirt hanging off his shoulders, a similar hue that colored the apples of his cheeks, shading embarrassment over sunburn and traveling to the peek of his teeth and the twinkle in gentle brown eyes that much resembled that of a deer pinned by some oncoming headlights. “I’m...here to clean the pool.”

It was a pool net that had hit you, misjudged from the sopping pile in the mulch of leaves and bugs and neon colored specks of unidentified objects. Your eyes trailed upward from the damp pleats of rope at your side to the holder of the pole, one who hadn’t tried to jerk the net away from you but instead kept in place, as if he didn’t move a muscle maybe you’d disappear.

“I clean the pool twice a week?” He tried again but you were too focused on the rosy shade of his lips matching the moussed fringe that curled into his eyelashes. “It should have been on the note Namjoon left—”

“It probably is,” You dismissed and he finally pulled the net away from your side, the wide sweeping circle he took to plop it back into the pool not succeeding without dripping some onto the top of your head. Unconsciously eager to amend the endearing pout that graced the stranger’s lips as he stirred the net into the center of the water, you added, “I just got in this morning. I haven’t had time to read everything yet.”

“Oh. Oh,” The man straightened from where he’d been crouched trying to snag a red thread at the far end of the pool, the ends of blue pool shorts darker than the rest and trickling against toned thighs, “Well, I’m Jeongguk. The neighborhood pool guy. And groundskeeper. And...whatever else you need me to be, I guess.”

You quirked an eyebrow and Jeongguk faltered, “I mean, like, I can fix shit. If you need me to. Like, if the cable goes out. But don’t ask me about the Wifi. No clue how to improve that.”

“Do any of us?”

He laughed and there was a peek of a dimple at the corner of his lips, turning away from you, “Fair point.”

You watched as he navigated the net with a finesse that suggested he didn’t just smack your thigh with it, depositing the red string in a sad heap near the filter. The calculated wander of your gaze drew your mouth to dry, following the jump of his calf muscles as he stepped from the pool, dragging the net with him over his shoulder.

“Seriously though,” Jeongguk’s voice snapped you out of your trance and you wet your lips and longed for your chapstick lodged somewhere in the depths of your backpack. He stood by a plastic looking brown shed, the net out of his hands, arms instead folded to his chest. “If you need anything, just call the front desk. The number is pasted on the fridge.”

“Noted, thanks.”

“My pleasure—” He paused halfway through the sliding glass door, fingers poised in an awkward pointing motion, “—what was your name again?”

You uttered it and Jeongguk winked, fingers shaking as his latter foot joined him inside. “Well, then I’ll see you later.”

“Perfect,” You breathed to yourself and you realized after the roar of his blue maintenance truck pulling from your drive that your collection of tattered bras and panties were scattered in the only entrance to the house.

Romance novels lied and movies an even bigger scam about wearing sandals for long periods of time without developing stupidly coarse blisters on the surface of the faux leather straps. You were heaving and limping and confused by the time you found the main office at the far end of the neighborhood.

In retrospect, it was hard to miss, an obnoxious aqua shade of paneling, outlined in a thick white trim led to by an equally bright staircase. Bikes accented in the same white but a clearer shade of blue lined the racks outside, complete with wicker baskets on the front and shiny metal bells that glinted just right to make you shield your eyes and trip up a single stair in your ascend. Inside the barn like doors came a refreshing burst of air conditioning, eliminating the humidity from outside and immediately calming some of the sweat curling into the hair at the nape of your neck.

A man sat behind a glass top counter in the middle of the room, legs delicately crossed on the stool he perched to, sunglasses nudged in the darkest part of dyed blonde roots, thumbing through a tourist style magazine that advertised May, the current month, as it’s date of publication. When the doors rattled shut behind you, he looked up, sunglasses bouncing to the bridge of his nose as he let out a tiny, startled noise.

“Hello!” He greeted after a moment, broad shoulders setting as you approached the counter. The magazine was flipped shut and slid closer to you, eyebrows wiggling at you beyond the frames of his fallen glasses, “Can I interested you in an entire article on the shrimp business in town?”

You giggled then, gently nudging the magazine back to him. The gold on his nametag fastened to the pocket of a blue surf shop t-shirt read Seokjin.

“No, not today.”

Seokjin balled the gloss into a roll and with a shrug, pitched it over his shoulder. “You know what, me either,” He winked, folding his hands on the counter and leaning toward you, plump lips curled back to let out an endearing wheeze of a laugh, “What can I do for you today?”

“Do you rent the bikes outside?”

“I’ll rent you two of them,” He laughed again at the expression on your face, turning to fish a clipboard off the tiny table behind him. “Kidding. I’ll rent you three.”

“I love it, but I think I only need one for right now.”

“If I weren’t on shift, I’d accompany you,” Seokjin scribbled something on the clipboard, “What house number are you in?”

You recited the number to him and he nodded with his tongue between his back molars. The clipboard was returned to the table in exchange for a set of tiny keys, ones he held out to you by the dangle of their miniature, metal hook. “These work on the first bike on the rack,” He smiled again, all full lips and an endearing red tinge to the tips of his ears, “Bring them back to me to check the bike back in or I may have to hunt you down.”

Your eyes widened and he cackled again, slapping a palm down on the glass countertop, “Kidding. But there is a fine if it’s not returned in twenty-four hours so—”

“Noted. I’ll have it back,” You pressed the keys into your palm and offered a halfhearted wave, “Thank you!”

“Always! Happy riding!”

The keys were deposited safely into the pocket of your shorts after you’d managed to wiggle the bicycle away from the rack, clacking against your phone screen as you clambered aboard the leather seat and pushed off in the direction you’d came.

You pedaled first in search of the house, finding it easier on the retrace and mapping it to memory as you dared a new trail, the one that looped and met a dead end when asphalt curled into white sand. The house whirred by again and then the main office, the air cooler in a breeze and with an easier travel than walking with a dozen blisters. You cycled slowly, taking in the unruly wind of cobblestone sidewalks and curiously planted palm trees near the planned planted flowers and each house in their own entirety in comparison to your own and the license plates of each car in each driveway as they advertised various regions and places and worlds aside from the one you were living in.

The blue maintenance truck elicited bile in the back of your throat from the incident earlier in the week as it sat parked on the street corner where sprinklers poked out of the turf and sprayed onto the green and yellow logo pasted to the side. The cab was empty but the yard it was parked in front of wasn’t, the knee height gate surrounding the shrubbery open with Jeongguk’s feet planted just on the other side of it.

You whipped your gaze from the slice of hedge trimmers through an exotic looking tree, instead looping your bike onto the opposite sidewalk and in the opposite direction. To no avail, the cul de sac throwing you back around like an out of control speed skater and suddenly the distance in front of you was filled only with the image of Jeongguk’s bare shoulders.

The bike coasted underneath you, leather relaxing its strain on your blisters as you concentration instead fell to the defined ridges between his shoulder blades, ones that rippled under a thin sheen of sweat each time he drew the trimmers open and shut, fluttering confetti like green to the grass below. The gardening tool fell as you watched, one arm staying above his head as he wiped a glove covered hand across his forehead, pasting more of the faded red fringe to the sweat already glistening there than clearing it. In the same moment did he pivot, trimmers dangling at his thigh, but this time you weren’t focused on the short black clinging desperately to his lean hips or the bunched white shirt sticking out from the waistband, rather the defined lines of his trimmed stomach starting underneath his ribs and disappearing underneath the elastic.

Jeongguk calling your name wasn’t part of the mirage and your rounded mouth jerked up just in time to notice the rapidly approaching edge of the curb.

Your dry mouth didn’t need water when it instead got the sprinkled of gravel, your bike tire colliding with the blocked concrete below and throwing you off to the side. A pain registered as a skid down your elbow but nothing quite matched the shamed embarrassment that flushed at your cheeks as a distant shit, hey! echoed in your ears and gravel crunched under approaching footsteps.

“Hey, woah, are you okay?—” You felt like you were underwater, like the ocean had suddenly decided it could eat the human race and was choosing you as its first victim, “—shit, you’re bleeding.”

A sting to your arm drew you above water and fingers that weren’t your own wiggled in front of your blurry vision, coating in a glob of dark red. The dots in your vision worsened when there was a pressure around your arm, Jeongguk’s t-shirt yanked from his shorts to act as a makeshift bandage and you couldn’t even appreciate the feeling of his hands touching you when you felt like you could vomit all over them any second.

“Hey, hey, babe can you hear me? Don’t pass out on me, it’s just a little scrape. C’mon, hey, I have some water in my truck, give me a second—”

The grass was a welcome pillow to the throb in your head, clearing the specks of black and white in your vision just enough for you to welcome the overhead blue curling around the landscape. You focused your attention on a cloud, one shaped like a disfigured dolphin, until it slipped in front of the sun, the rays spilling out in thick shards from between the transparent water vapor chilling the new layer of sweat that had slipped over your skin in your near faint.

You shuddered as more of the dots in your vision transferred to a seeming chill in your veins, goosebumps crawling across your arms and leaving a dry, cotton taste in your cheeks. Scrambling footsteps in the gravel returned as quickly as they had retreated and a gentle hand slipped behind your shoulders, aiding you in sitting up enough to bring your lips to a cool splash of water.

“I’ve been telling Seokjin to replace the brakes on these for months,” Jeongguk passed the water bottle into your still twitching fingertips, instead taking a seat next to you in the grass.

You were shaky in taking another gulp of the lukewarm water, letting it slide thickly down your throat. Various retorts snagged in the back of your throat and you suppressed them like the urge to glance over at him. Instead, a soft hum came out, one emitted through another cheek full of water.

“Well, when you’re ready, I’ll drive you back to the house and take the bike back—”

“I’m fine,” You croaked but you punctuated the sentiment by gathering your feet underneath you. A dull pain throbbed in your forearm and you swayed slightly in your crouched position, but you managed to stand with no more than a few stars decorating the back of your eyelids.

Jeongguk stuttered behind you, scrambling to his feet as you hunched over the fallen bike, dragging it to an upright position by one of the protruding handles. He slipped a warm hand to the small of your back, stalling you. “You’re not going to try to ride back, are you?”

“Yes?”

“You nearly fainted just now. Do you really think that’s...the best idea?”

Your knee caught on the seat in your first attempt to straddle the bike but you were successful the second time, standing with shaky palms clenched on the handles. “Not really. But it’s not very far…”

You thought you’d shaken him, the bike wobbling as you pushed off, getting two tire rolls away before his figure was jogging up beside you, placing an insistent hand on the bars. “At least let me walk back with you,” Jeongguk insisted, red fringe not obscuring his wide-eyed concern.

You begrudgingly ignored the veins in his forearm, slowing the speed of your pedaling to let him guide you through the desolate roads of the quiet neighborhood. It was a quick but silent trip, Jeongguk turning to balance the bike with two hands as you clambered off on shaky legs. He’d barely pivoted from depositing it back into its empty space on the rack when you’d pushed the tiny set of keys against the center of chest, too engrossed in a range of mortification.

“Here,” You bit out, “Thanks again.”

You took off in a rumpled mess of gravel, sunburn, and a bloody t-shirt as Jeongguk called after you some variation of be careful! that almost sounded like he was laughing.

The blood caked off his t-shirt on the third wash (when you managed to understand the complex mess of dials lining the top of the machine) and you hung it on a wire hanger on the tiny awning that extended outward from the house onto the concrete. He’d have to duck underneath it to do his job as you hid faithfully in your bedroom and pretended to nap for the duration of his visit.

There was a distinct clattering outside as the morning hours drew into the afternoon and you buried your head underneath the puffy duvet, taking comfort in the flash of colors across your phone screen even if you were mute to the video you’d played. But then the clutter outside transferred to the slide of the patio door and the video disappeared as your phone fell face down against your waist and you froze.

Jeongguk was calling your name, fluctuating in volume as he moved about the main part of the house. You winced each time the scuff of his bare feet moved closer, relaxed when it was farther away, and sighed when he tried, “I know you’re in here. Seokjin didn’t see you leave today. Or yesterday. Or the day before.”

You swallowed your pride and the unattractive scab growing on the flat of your forearm as you stalked out of your room. You found him mostly clothed this time, hands braced on the lip of the bar in the center of the kitchen with his phone pressed toward his nose in one hand.

“What, have you been watching me?”

There was a fond smile that crept to Jeongguk’s lips as he turned to look at you, “Making sure you didn’t bleed out, actually, but if you want to look at it that way.”

You paused in the hallway, feet as wide as your shoulders and arms folded tight to your chest. Only then did you realize you still had flannel pajama shorts and a flimsy white shirt on. “Well. Here I am. With only minor injuries. So uh…”

There was a glass plate in the flat of his palm before you could blink, a pyramid of chocolate chip cookies wrapped with plastic presented before you. “I, uh, made you some cookies,” He blinked, tossing his head toward the refrigerator. The red in his hair had faded to a harsh pink, “and there’s fresh lemonade in the fridge.”

“Your t-shirt is hanging outside,” You blurted in response, “free of blood.”

Jeongguk’s nose wrinkled, turning to deposit the cookies to the countertop again, “Didn’t want it back. I have fifty of the same thing. But thank you…”

You stared at the back of his head, where dark brown roots had begun to weave through the sharp red. After a moment, you blinked, “...so you can bake?”

He shrugged without looking at you, peeling the plastic away from the plate to pluck a cookie into his palm. He glanced over his shoulder, endearing smile dimpled into his cheeks and you melted like the bits of chocolate that brushed against his digits when he stretched the treat out to you, “Eh. Try one?”

Jeongguk’s gaze followed you as you shuffled around the kitchen, sliding out one of the bar stools with the crook of your foot to slip onto the round leather. You reached over the countertop, snatching a napkin from a pile near the sink to spread out in front of you, lips pressing into a geometric shape in your cheeks.

“C’mon, hand it over.”

He bypassed your wriggling fingers to place the cookie down on your napkin, watching you with a bated breath and round eyes. Soft irises followed the path of the piece you broke off the cookie to where you nudged it into your mouth by the curve of your thumb. The cookie crumbled across your tongue, melting in a mess of sugar and chocolate that gurgled a pleasured moan from your throat as you dived in for two, four more nibbles on the soft corners.

An amused expression wrinkled at his cocked eyebrows and the small sliver of his teeth when your eyelids fluttered open from devouring half the treat, “Good?”

“You can bake,” You affirmed, breaking off another bite sized corner. “Maybe I should wreck bikes more often.”

“No,” Jeongguk assured, replacing the cookie with a fresh one before turning to your fridge to yank out the pitcher of lemonade, “You definitely should not.”

His stature went fishing about the kitchen area, yanking open cabinet after cabinet until he found something suitable, glass pieces smudged from years of use. He pulled down two, placing them in front of the pitcher.

“You know, your food selection here is pretty sad,” He handed over a full glass, watching as you took a languid gulp.

“I don’t exactly know where the grocery store is,” You argued of the boxes of leftover pizza stacked inside your fridge and the singular bag of pretzels you’d smuggled onto the airplane. “Nor do I have a car, and biking is certainly out of the question—”

Jeongguk ignored you, opening and closing drawers until he found the packet of paper Namjoon had left for you, the FAQOTH. His thumb lodged between the pages, squinting at the ink as his voice muffled around the rim of his own glass.

His tongue swiped at the lemonade clinging to his upper lip, sighing, “You really didn’t read this, did you? There’s, like, seven cab services to choose from. And at least six of them know where the Walmart is.”

You dismissed him with a wave of your hand, snatching the packet of paper from his grasp to flatten it over the napkin you’d been snacking from. “All Namjoon has listed are pizza places…” You trailed off, “I need restaurant recommendations. Throw some at me.”

“That’s a pretty broad question. I have a lot.”

“You’ll have to show me a few before I leave.”

You stared at each other in a passing silence that heightened your mortification like bile on the crux of your throat, especially when Jeongguk cocked an eyebrow, the slightest of smirks slanting his lips as his chin unhinged, falling to his chest as he fished aside for another napkin.

“Maybe…” He trailed off, snatching a pen from the same drawer the FAQOTH had came from. “But for now—” He scribbled some more on the surface pebbled in design, scratching out a name and an address before presenting the drooping napkin to you, “—try this place. I think the cab drivers can find it...”

The Dusty Dolphin bordered the line between the natural white sands of the beach and the main strip of highway that cascaded down the coastline. It was as if sitting on the border in territories, the inside seating of the restaurant on soft grasses sticking through sand like soil with an asphalt parking lot lined in chipped neon parking spaces just a walking distance away, while the outside seating was perched on the beach, a patio raised on wooden platforms with brightly colored umbrellas stuck through the center of wooden tables.

Your fingers paled your knuckles with how tightly you clenched your fists, flip flops slapping against the wooden surface as you climbed up a rickety staircase to tell an uninterested looking hostess that it would be just you.

“Outside?” It wasn’t really a question of yes or no, more of a confirmation of what she was expecting you to say as she hopped down from her stool and began to collect silverware and a glossy menu.

Your sure was lost under your breath as she took your curt nod as the answer, weaving through the close knit tables in the indoor seating to lead you through a single set of double doors and to an empty table on the far corner. Again, her, “Is this okay?” was a confirmation, not an affirmation, and your nod had her saying your server will be right with you when she’d already slipped back inside.

The sun peaked out from behind the lapping waves on the horizon, the blackness engulfing the farthest waves a taste of the sun’s sleep for a few hours, leaving the world with a brilliant mesh of pastel hues, colored together like oil crayons as brushes of wispy clouds rushed by to the melody of the water rushing to the shore. A breeze rolled with the motion of the water and you tugged your thin cardigan closer to your torso, not helped with the fans bolted to the overhead framing that continued to rotate softly, a cooldown from their midafternoon duties where they whirred fatefully.

“Hey, told you the cab driver could find this place.”

Jeongguk stood in front of you with the dopiest of grins on his lips, a tiny and audible giggle stumbling out from the shocked expression that met your features. He was adorned in all black, tight black jeans, a black belt cinching a black t-shirt into his waist, a black apron snug just a beat above the belt buckle. His bright locks were styled, parted away from his forehead in a calculated fashion that made one swoop a tad bigger than the latter side. Pens and straws and a tiny notepad were tucked into the pouches of the apron and he held a notepad of a similar fashion up, pen clicking rapidly as he continued to giggle at you.

“You work here?” You blinked, and then added with flat palms slapping against the front of your menu, “Is there anything you don’t do?”

“Can’t quite train the dolphins at the wildlife reserve yet, but we’re getting there,” His nose wrinkled in another laugh, pen clicking out finally as he rested it against the paper, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Uh. Water, I guess.”

“Boring,” Jeongguk scribbled shorthand to the pad, “Are you going to get something a bit more exciting than chicken strips for your meal?”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be heckling the paying customer.”

“Seriously,” He eyed you again, “Do you know what you want?”

You opened the menu for the first time, the array of seafood and pastas and salads and various other dishes overwhelming you with him hunching over you, shuffling to read over your shoulders.

“What do you recommend?”

“Well, we’re pretty known for seafood—” You shot him a look, “—obviously. But like, all the shrimp is pretty good—”

“Because of the shrimp business in town?”

Jeongguk laughed, “Seokjin?”

“A little bit.”

He hummed, chin hovering dangerously close to your shoulder before he straightened, shuffling between the railing around the porch area. “I’ll bring you a couple things,” He decided, mostly to himself and absently over his shoulder,

A couple things meant a platter of shrimp, cooked, seasoned, piled, and ripped in different variations, piled high like the pyramid of cookies you’d nearly devoured after he’d left your house. His manager complained twice upon finding him sitting with you, judging your expression as you sucked some butter contraption off the ridges of a steamed shrimp and teasing you of the flakes of garlic clinging to the corner of your mouth. He returned to refill your water when you’d only taken a few sips from the candy striped straw and ignored you three times when you asked for the bill as the sun completely disappeared beyond the water, leaving the sea to one giant stretch you could not see but could hear the threat of.

“Here, I guess,” Jeongguk settled the black fold down on your table, leaving with a wink that illuminated in the artificial porch lights hanging from the center of the still turning fans. It was enough lighting to read that he’d paid for your bill, scrawling a giant smiley face underneath the amount.

You sighed, prepared to reprimand him as you carefully folded the receipt to slide into your pocket but two colored notes underneath caught your attention. The pink one read wait on me, I’ll drive you home. You placed it aside with a check to your phone, finding it five minutes from closing time of the restaurant as a majority of the other patrons who had long fled the premises.

The second note was yellow, the handwriting a bit more loopy, calculated in a sense.

A mirage is the peace the night time sea suggests; a reality is the beauty your soul creates.

Jeongguk was free of the apron when he returned, shirt untucked, and a large blue jacket shrugged across his shoulders. The same giddy smile from before remained plastered to his features as he dug in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys that he tossed and caught in the same palm.

“Ready to go?”

You folded the sticky note carefully, slipping it with the collection of bills in your back pocket.

“Yeah, let’s go.”

He left notes while you were asleep and he had another schedule to get to, choosing your pool as the first to clean and assess and correct the chemical balance of, leaving the bright blue paper with tacky glue stripped on the top to the patio door.

You caught it when you shrugged outside with a piece of toast in hand and your laptop folded under your arm, crumbs decorating your knuckles as you slipped the paper off the sizable smudge on the glass to bring it to your nose.

Think of dream, sleep of you.

He left notes on the hedge just outside your door on his way to the neighbors to fix a faulty outlet in the upstairs bedroom for a family who’d just arrived and had decided to cram three children with twelve electronic devices between them into that very room.

It was bright pink and sealed to the petal of a flower you debated picking, a petal that dislodged anyway when you plucked the note instead, decorating the stone walkway with a single question of soft red hues.

Bloom in my heart like the question of my soul.

He left notes on the inside of your refrigerator, right on top of a family sized bottle of orange juice he’d watched you haul through the front gates of the neighborhood while Seokjin assumed he was paying attention to his instructions for the disposal of some lawn chairs at the community pool near the beach.

You found it after he left in a flurry of more cookies, the smell of chlorine, and an off handed comment about you needing more variety in your life than water and orange juice, a yellow note that rivaled the unnatural coloring of the juice when you’d purchased a brand name rather than the more expensive, family brand.

Orange juice sucks, that much I do know.

You scattered them across the screen of your open laptop like an investigator piecing together the details of a crime while your neglected novel watched on, the cursor mocking you from beyond a note that said procrastinating my destiny with a useless metal fence. Color coding failed when Jeongguk switched from pinks, blues, and yellows to purples, oranges, and greens. His handwriting didn’t falter, suggest a trend with a certain harder press of his pen. The medium in which he wrote varied, lead or red pen or what appeared to be a blue colored pencil. Some told a story, only to be ruined with orange juice or elbow scabs or half eaten shrimp.

Your laptop screen was coated in a thin layer of film from placing and plucking the notes into various orders, one that hazed over your novel as you began to stack the notes into a neat pile in your cupped palm. It mirrored the midday haze that had curled across the neighborhood, the sun eliciting the mirage of steam curling off the pool water that seemed to hinder your conscious unable to understand the growing tree of poetry in your grasp.

The contents of the last paragraph, even without a layer of tacky glue and humidity stained air, made little sense, only one of five you’d written in three weeks. It was thick and expositional, a writing exercise within the draft, a rambling discussion of your surroundings when you’d decided to have your characters visit a beach rather than force their stories into some sand and sun.

Your outline answered your rhetorical question.

Why are they going to the beach? TBD.

You deleted the fifth paragraph and shut your laptop. Four paragraphs in three weeks.

Soft fluttering of the notes between your fingertips kept the distracted state of your conscious occupied long enough to seek out an unnatural sound of nature. It was a scurrying from around the side of the house, scattering through dry pine needles and gravel poured between the concrete stepping stones. The cloud of your thoughts cleared enough to panic in confusion, leaving the notes underneath a corner of your laptop as you crept into your flip flops.

The wire gate was left open, swinging gently against the side of the house. Clear footsteps rut deep into the coarse brown needles, smudging into the mud below still damp from the morning rain shower.

Your first rational thought of it being a squirrel erased as you reached for the gate, pulling and latching it. Someone was walking a dog across the street, a tiny white poodle with a ridiculous haircut and a cat bell on its collar. A childlike scream traveled upward from the beach. The breeze clattered against the leaves of a towering tree planted entirely too close to the house.

The same gentle breeze fluttered a strip of pink against the side of the house.

“Dammit, Jeongguk,” You cursed, needles lodging between the rubber of your flip flops and your bare feet as you moved off the stepping stone path. It was pasted high, too, barely in reaching of your pinching fingertips as you leaned into the house and stretched as high on the balls of your feet as you could go.

Your back slumped against the house as you glared at your prize for thin scratches and a strain in your shoulders. A number. A phone number.

With a shitty smiley face, a curve and two dots, beneath it.

You cursed through another layer of pine needles, deserting your flip flops on the far end of the pool deck as you hopped across seething hot concrete to retrieve your phone from underneath your towel. Pointed thumbs jabbed in the number to a new text thread, equally as prominent in clicking out a message.

What the hell are you trying to tell me with these notes, Jeongguk?

For thirty-seven agonizing seconds, you thought your only answer was the smiling emoticon with tiny red hearts dotted around the surface. And then three little dots appeared in the bottom left corner.

Everything. Meet me at the beach tonight?

You followed the sound of music, passing only a family with two tiny girls, headlamps strapped to their foreheads and plastic sand castle buckets clutched in their fingers as they chatted eagerly about what they’d seen underneath their feet, and a colony of the very crabs they’d been trying to capture. Your flip flops followed the beat of the guitar melody, pattering against the flex of your thigh where you clutched them in loose fingers at your hip, bare feet sliding through the cool sand, occasionally catching on snags of sea shells and scurrying sea creatures.

The sounds grew louder, dimming the thrash of night time waves, and you found him, seated not far down the coast line on a ratty looking, red lawn chair.

Jeongguk glanced up from furrowed eyebrows when you cleared his throat, hunched over a guitar balanced neatly on short clad thighs. Confusion erased into elation as he grinned, tossing his head toward the empty lawn chair next to him, blue and with less frayed edges.

“Hey! Have a seat. I brought beer in the cooler behind you. And water. I can go get you anything—”

You ducked for the red plastic container, drawing out a dripping water bottle and cracking the lid, “It’s okay. Thank you.”

He visibly relaxed, the lingering stare on your lips wrapping around the bottle diverting back to his work on the instrument in his lap, fiddling with some of the tuners at the top. You watched as he worked, thumb coming out to strum at the bottom few strings before he sat back with a satisfied hum.

And then Jeongguk began to sing. Softly at first, a testing glance in your direction as soft pink lips seemed hesitant in parting. When intrigue lit your features, body visibly tensing, his mouth curled into a smile, voice a higher volume but a soft octave nonetheless, gentle and soothing like a retreating wave that lipped gently across the shells it was leaving behind. His gaze faltered from yours to hit a note, a scrunch to his nose, a vein down the length of his neck, a passion that you longed for as his voice fishtailed into an easy run. It was an unfamiliar tune to you, one that ended in a handful of endearing head bops and cheesy hums from Jeongguk as he strummed once, hard, down the strings of his guitar.

The smile on his lips wobbled, trying to contain his teeth but still dimpling in his cheeks as he blinked at you. He lost the battle with his smile when he spoke, testing “Good?”, with a slight giggle.

“The notes,” You said dumbly, “They’re your lyrics?”

“Some of them…” He sat the guitar in the sand with a shy hand wrapped around the back of his neck, “Some are just, I don’t know, poetry.”

“So you sing.”

“I sing,” Jeongguk nodded, “I like to think I’m a better singer than pool cleaner. Or cookie baker.”

You followed his gaze from your eyes to his clasped hands on his knees. “Have you tried to pursue anything in it?”

“No point,” His gaze moved onward from his hands to the ocean, squinting and closing, “Just a hobby.”

“For now—”

“For always,” He was staring at you again, curt in his sharp correction. After a moment, a tiny smile slanted his lips, “It’s okay, really. I enjoy doing it in my free time.”

You tilted your head, “Why are you sharing this with me?”

Jeongguk was standing above you, hand outstretched, shy smile flushing his cheeks even in the darkness. “Walk with me.”

He took the initiative the thread your fingers together, leading you down to the edge of where the water reached. The water still warm from the heat of the season lapped around your ankles as you trudged down the coast, hand in hand, silence welcome to the soundtrack of the ocean. After a sizable distance, Jeongguk sighed, footsteps stalling to yank your unsuspecting figure to a stop.

“I’m showing you because lately, they’re all about you.”

You blinked at him, hands still clasped but pulled at an unnatural distance between your statures. “Jeongguk, what—”

“Look, I’m extremely lame and not as good with actual words as I am with the notes I left you but…” He stepped closer, dropping your intertwined hands to swing between your bodies, “I like you. Basically.”

“Basically?”

A disgruntled whine left his lips and his gaze trailed over your shoulder, upward toward the sky, “I know you’re only here for another month and I know I barely know you but. I don’t know. I like you. And I felt weird envisioning a future where I didn’t at least try.”

Your skin warmed through the thin flannel draped across your sun irritated skin. Another step closer, this one initiated by you, followed by a soft squeeze and tug on his palm. “Like you said, I’m only here for another month,” Soft eyes darkened into the stars dancing around you wandered back down to your gaze, hopeful even as you sighed, “I’m supposed to be writing, anyway. That’s the entire point of my trip and I’ve barely got anything done…”

“I won’t be a distraction.”

“You already are.”

Another shy smile graced Jeongguk’s features, mumbling, “Sorry.”

“But a good distraction…” One more step and there was but a fingertips length distance between your torsos, your thumb running along his knuckles, “You’re a good distraction.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

You held up your free hand, pinky presented. “I’m willing to try, Jeongguk but—” You punctuated the word before he could hook the digit in yours, “—no obligations. Not really, anyway.”

“Do the obligations include or exclude kissing?” He braved leaning closer to you, even as the rosy hue on his cheeks spread, “Pleasesayinclude, pleasesayinclude, pleasesay—”

You tugged down on his hand, loose fist with your pinky presented falling against his shoulder as you connected your lips. He hummed happily into the seam of your lips, arm snaking around your waist to eliminate the distance between your torsos. “One month,” You punctuated between a breath of air, one he ignored with another languid kiss into your mouth.

“So I can’t tell Taehyung you’re my girlfriend?”

“Who’s Taehyung?”

“My roommate,” Jeongguk linked your pinkies while you were distracted, kissing your jaw, “I’ll introduce you to him.”

“Jeongguk,” You squeezed his hand and pinky in tandem, “One month.”

“Stop, you’re making your not-really-your-boyfriend sad.”

Kim Taehyung was all surfer, the stereotypical bleached blonde hair with dark peeking out of the roots, baggy black shorts with the white strings untied, a thin white undershirt hugging his lean figure underneath a blue shirt with some intricate design of flames and waves and a surfboard ironed on the front. His bare feet slapped through the corridor, grumbling something to Jeongguk’s greeting call, hair tossed back with a thick white headband around the middle of his forehead that pronounced his harsh eyebrows, ones that furrowed to inspect you.

“Hi!” He was loud, like an over excited golden retriever, especially when he beamed to tease his roommate, “So you’re the beautiful lady Gukkie here courted by flashing his stellar abs and less than comparable thighs.”

You gawked, cheeks heating because well, kind of, but the hand on the small of your back fist into the material of your shirt, pushing you forward and past his broad figure.

“Don’t you have a wave to almost drown in?”

“C’mon, I was just kidding, love!” Taehyung’s footsteps were heavy behind you, following your figures through a narrow hallway, “No part of Jeon is impressive enough to get you. Did he bribe you? I’ll pay the ransom.”

You giggled as Jeongguk paused around you, sucking in a breath through his teeth that materialized into a whispered, “If you ignore him, he goes away. Eventually.”

Your nose wrinkled, turning to look at the red-faced man pressed against your back, “But he’s funny.”

You’d paused in front of a doorway, one Jeongguk pushed open and glared pointedly at you. “Don’t encourage him. Go.”

Jeongguk’s room was wide, a contrast to the narrow hallway lined in creaking hardwood and paneled walls. It was open concept, not much furniture aside from a few dressers and the bed. Blacks, whites, and greys told the story with color sprinkled in from accented belongings, like a collection of keychains hanging off a billboard in the corner, the cork material of the wall hanging filed with various photographs pinned up by neon colored tacks. A string of lights hung above his headboard, polaroids dangling from the wires, similar ones pasted in a haphazard pattern on the same wall.

“You like photography?”

He watched you step to his corkboard, delicately sliding your fingers underneath a photograph so as not to touch the ink on the front. It was a picture he’d taken of Taehyung at a surfing competition, purposefully edited to look straight from a vintage yearbook.

“A little. Filming too....”

You nodded, letting the photograph flutter back against its board. Pivoting, slow steps carried you toward his slumped figure standing rigid in the center of his room, sliding your palms over his shoulders when you got close enough.

“All of these talents and you can’t dye your hair by yourself?”

Jeongguk’s fingers fell into the fringe hanging over his eyes, now blonde with hints of pink clinging to the ends of certain strands. A pout materialized but he didn’t whine, just leaning closer to you with tendrils of hair still secured between a hand behind his head.

“Just because it’s your first visit doesn’t mean I won’t subject you to Taehyung’s three hour lecture of proper surfboard waxing techniques.”

“Stop threatening me with a good time and lead me to the hair dye.”

His bathroom was as small as the hallway and you found yourself seated on the edge of the vanity with Jeongguk crushed between your legs. He didn’t seem to mind, fingers twitching from their place beside you to creep up to your thighs as you squinted at his head, plastic covered fingers globing harsh red through his hair.

“What’s your natural hair color?”

“Brown.”

You tapped at his roots, taking a glob with the crook of your fingers. “Why don’t you leave it at that?”

“Because red is cool.”

“Who told you that?—” You pulled your hands into your lap, careful to hold the stain away, “—Your girlfriend?”

“Don’t know,” Jeongguk leaned close enough to smear red on your forehead with his bangs if they weren’t pasted to his forehead, “Is my hair color cool?”

A playful look of disgust wrinkled at your nose, “Only half of your hair is dyed right now.”

He glanced behind you in the mirror, eyeing the glob of dye on one half of his head to the straight blonde on the latter. “So?” He blinked back to you, “Is it cool?”

“I don’t know,” You began to peel the gloves off, “Wash it out and we’ll see.”

You sat cross legged in the center of Jeongguk’s bed when he returned, half of his hair back to the vibrant red it had been when he nearly impaled you with a pool net, half the blonde it had been trending toward when he asked you to entertain his affections for a month more. He didn’t give you an option of a yes or no, flopping at the foot of the bed to press his cheek against your ankles, arms stretched out across your thighs.

“Hey,” He said after a moment, muffled against your jeans.

You tested the waters of placing a hand against his scalp and when he cuddled into your affection, you softly ran your nails through his hair. “Hey, what?”

“I let you read my things—” Jeongguk shifted to place his chin on your naval, blinking owlishly up at you, “—my things about you. When do I get to read part of your novel?”

“Hmm, when it’s finished and published and available in bookstores.”

“Is that soon?”

You shot him a look but he didn’t seem to be kidding. “No. Probably not. Especially since I’ve made virtually no progress.”

“Well,” He pecked your belly button over your shirt, snuggling back against you again, “I’d love to read an advanced screening version.”

You’d deleted the four paragraphs you’d completed in three weeks. Zero paragraphs in five weeks.

“We’ll see…”

You printed your outline in three separate copies, each one with their own unique set of markups of various color pens and pencils and highlighters, colors born out of your tiny sparks on inspiration that you tried to hold onto like a the end of a rope, one that would pull you to the surface for clarity, creativity, anything. But each time the trill of your red pen reached the end of the page, transferring over to your fingers on the keyboard, the half an ounce of rope had slipped through your fingertips, leaving you to tread underwater.

Those stapled pages were spread across a table on the patio area of The Dusty Dolphin, half sandwiched between your laptop that was attached to an extension cord. Jeongguk had hijacked both the Wifi password and an extra long cable, seating you in the far corner of the deck area and keeping you stocked with fresh water and samples of mozzarella sticks.

It was the third time you’d marked through and rewrote a certain bullet point, the result a smear of dying highlighter in neon yellow that you could barely read. You capped the highlighter and the open pen rolled to the center of your keyboard, turning your attention instead to the goosebumps that had appeared across your bare forearms and Jeongguk’s figure as he jogged out onto the patio deck.

“That my hoodie?” He questioned as he approached, your head halfway through the black fabric you’d had tied around your waist for the duration of the day.

“Could be Taehyung’s. I stole it from your laundry room.”

Jeongguk placed the new glass of ice water down, avoiding your papers and electronics to wrap a hand in the collar of the hoodie to tug your mouth to his.

“Nope,” He teased with a nip to your bottom lip in a whirling departure, “Mine.”

“Wait!”

He turned, nearly colliding with a high chair protruding out into the walkway.

“Come back, waiter.”

The pad of paper was drawn from his apron, just to appease the look the child’s mother shot him as he moved to stand next to you again. “Yes, paying customer?”

“Can you bring me real food, please?”

He began scribbling something before you could talk, mirroring your sentiment the same time you uttered it.

“The shrimp pasta?”

A bashful smile sunk your chin into your shoulders and you nodded. “Yes, please.”

“Course,” Another chaste peck on your lips that turned into two, then lingered on the third, only for heavy footsteps and a rough voice to have him jumping away.

“Jeongguk…” A figure was leaning out of the doorway dressed in an ironed white button up and black slacks, the tiny gold nameplate advertising manager first reading Yoongi. “Stop kissing customers, please.”

This time a horrified gasp from the mother in question, one that caused Yoongi’s eyes to widen as he moved for the table, shooting you a comforting wink as he began to explain the concept of a joke while Jeongguk disappeared back into the depths of the restaurant.

You managed to hack out two paragraphs while Jeongguk put your order in with a handful of dialog sprinkled within. His kiss was to the top of your head when he slipped the plate in front of you, careful to avoid your twitching fingers over the keys as he hummed.

“Any progress?”

Your response wasn’t a total lie. “A little bit…”

Two paragraphs and useless dialog tagged with edit later in six weeks.

You’d managed to catch a handful of the rope promising to pull you ashore, one you clung desperately to while your fingers, coiled equally as tight, wore the letters on your keyboard to nothing, backspace barely a factor as you left in typos and grammar issues and a myriad of useless punctuation. The lines from where your laptop sat in relation to the cover your swimsuit bottoms provided was of little concern, just as your hair tied messily on the nape of your neck and the lack of towel underneath the bare parts of your stature not covered by the swimsuit you’d stumbled into in route to reach the rope.

The paper outlines sat somewhere inside but you didn’t need them anyway, the digital copy enough to mark off pieces from as your word count skyrocketed, pages clicking over and over the hump you’d previously been stuck on, the rope dragging your belly first over but getting you there nonetheless. You typed until your mouth begged for the ice water you’d left inside and one of the two cookies of Jeongguk’s left, but you powered through into another page, giddy with the possibility but more focused on the emotion somewhere between determination and greed.

You heard the gate open but ignored it, you heard a call of your name but ignored it, and you felt the splash of water hit your ankles and glared at it.

“Hey!” Jeongguk resurfaced on the side of the pool. He’d fixed his hair, vibrant and red against where he brushed it out of his eyes. “Come in for a swim?”

You pursed your lips, determined to ignore him as your fingers started slow on the keys again. When you arrived at your previous speed, you huffed, “You aren’t supposed to clean today.”

He dunked his head under, resurfacing in a flurry of bubbles, “Does it look like I’m cleaning?”

“Jeongguk. I’m busy today.”

“You’re only here for another week.”

“Exactly!”

He sighed, forearms folding onto the concrete as he leaned forward, watching you, “Whatever you have is great. Better than great.”

“You wouldn’t know.”

“I have a vague idea because you won’t let me read anything.”

You were glaring at him again, the playful expression previously on his features hardened into something you couldn’t quite understand, one that softened only marginally as the seconds passed.

Jeongguk uttered your name, a gentle request, “Take a break.”

Your laptop sat open on the bare lawn chair, battery zapped the longer the heat bore down on it but the pointed stalk of your footsteps across the pool area had shoved it aside. The water was cold upon first touch but the reactions of your body didn’t show it, carrying you down the staircase until you were submerged, body crouching so that your chin skimmed the surface of the water until you were treading directly in front of Jeongguk.

“I’m in the water,” You hissed, “Is this what you wanted?”

He didn’t have it in him to giggle, a sad smile instead not quite reaching the dimples in his cheeks.

“No. I want you to believe in yourself.”

The push of your mouth against Jeongguk’s was wet, tasting of the chlorine that splattered around you when you stood to grapple for purchase on his shoulders. Strong arms encased your waist, accepting you anyway as one liquid staining your lips was replaced with something warm and tinged in salt, dripping in unwarranted streams from the corners of your eyes.

You whimpered when your back was pressed to the side of the pool, legs coming to wrap around his waist while your fingernails scraped at his back. “I’m sorry,” You gasped, his lips mouthing at your neck while he held you.

“Don’t be,” He reprimanded you with teeth on your collarbone, arms sliding higher on your waist to press you flush to his chest, “I’ve got you.”

Another miserable apology fell from your lips and your chin was jerked upward by a soft palm cupping your cheek, latter hand pressing into the concrete behind you. “I said, I’ve got you, baby girl,” Jeongguk reiterated, forehead pressed to yours. Something sad rippled in his starry irises, something that dug the dagger deeper into the hammering organ in your chest, “What do you need me to do?”

“Just, I—”

Words failed but the bury of your face into his neck, securing your ankles around his back and holding to him like he’d disappear any second, didn’t.

Jeongguk’s arms threaded around your stature again, nosing into your damp hair with a shaky sigh. “Okay. Okay, I’ve got you. Shh, it’s okay, it’ll be okay…”

Fourteen pages in seven weeks.

The weight of his palm in yours had never quite reached home, a foreign weight laced through your fingers from the hesitancy echoing a mantra in the forefront of your conscious, eerie and daunting and to the tune of your rapidly beating heart.

No obligations. A distraction. A good distraction. No obligations. Broken laptop charger. Not enough complete. No obligations. Too much dialog. Too little progress. No obligations.

Fourteen pages. Seven weeks. No obligations.

You squeezed your fingers together just to watch the joints retract under your skin, the moonlight a ghost over your knuckles. Again and it was inevitable to catch Jeongguk’s attention, his hand flexing underneath yours, smooth and gentle and waiting, accepting of the home your lost heart would need.

If you’d just let yourself knock on the door. No obligations.

“Hey.” He’d stopped walking next to you, the sand cold on your toes, the plastic straps of your sandals rubbing a blister on the soft crease between your fingers on your free hand. “Hey, can we…”

“Look,” You overlapped him, sandals falling from your grasp when you pointed instead. A small group of crabs ruffled through the sand in front of you, bumping through languidly, over and under each other. Jeongguk’s eyebrows nearly met at the wrinkled bridge of his nose, the corner of his mouth slightly downturned when you glanced at him. Softly, you nodded, “Crabs.”

He let go of your hand, crouching. A cupped palm scooped through the sand, effectively excavating one of the crabs. It shook the sand from around itself, scurrying eagerly about the surface of Jeongguk’s hand as he straightened, stretching the creature out to you.

“Do you want to hold him?”

Thoughts of your novel and the overwhelming overhauls it’d endured in your eight weeks, the first a modest to a beachfront neighborhood, from a grocery store to a beach, from a bouquet of flowers the boy had been clutching onto for months while you worked on the details around him to a tiny crab who lasted long enough for you to hate the idea.

The tiniest of smiles made it to your lips, “Is there anything you can’t do, Jeon Jeongguk?”

He crouched again, releasing the crab in a flurry of sand dusted from his fingertips before returning to you. Curled fists made it into the pockets of his shorts, foot nudging into the ground below him as he shrugged. Wide eyes lifted from their spot at the tips of his toes to yours, the same sad smile lacing his features, “I can’t figure you out, apparently.”

“Can we...can we talk?”

He nodded, slowly at first and then all at once. A hand stretched in your direction again, fingers wiggling, the smile on his features a step closer to genuine. “C’mon, let’s go sit down.”

You followed Jeongguk up the beach, finding a space just in front of where the long grasses began, fluttering gently in the night time wind so much so that their soft ambiance almost outweighed the ripple of the ocean from farther up on the shore. Your hand retracted from his, sandwiched between your thighs but your shoulders still touched, sitting side by side as the moonlight crawled up the waves to be deposited onto the coast.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” You said after a moment. Features scrunched to the breeze, eyes shutting as you sighed, “I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

He hummed, “Do any of us?”

“You seem to,” Your cheek pressed to your shoulder, offering a smile when he glanced at you, “Mister gorgeous pool boy who can sing, play guitar, write poetry, bake, and catch ghost crabs without blinking.”

Jeongguk hummed once more, a lower sound this time, nose pointed toward the breeze. “If you think my ambitions in life stopped at tourist neighborhood groundskeeper and a waiter at a place named The Dusty Dolphin, I must have done a really shitty job at letting you get to know me over these couple of months.”

“I know that,” You nudged him, “but how are you content with your passions just staying passions? How can you not want more?”

“Let me ask you a question,” He nudged you back, chin meeting his upper arm to peer at you under vibrant bangs, “Why do you write?”

“Because I want to have a published novel.”

Jeongguk quirked an eyebrow, “Why do you want to have something published?”

“Because I’ve put years of work into the idea. I’ve drained my soul to invest it in this project.”

“Do you love it?”

You blinked, “My novel?”

“Your novel, your column, the newspaper, writing,” Jeongguk shrugged, “Any of it.”

“I did…”

“Did?”

“I’ve always been in love with the craft of writing—” Softly, you amended, “—my writing. My creations. And I’ve had slumps, I’ve endured writer’s block. I’ve gone past deadlines and I’ve scrapped entire plots, ideas, paragraphs, sentences. But never this bad. Not to the point where I don’t know what I’m doing anymore. Why I even started writing the piece in the first place, what the end goal. What it was even supposed to be about, let alone anything about it.”

Jeongguk nodded, nose pointing toward the breeze again, cheek lulling to his arm, “Why did you come here, of all places?”

“I was sent here. Work leave.”

“What’d you do?”

“Told a nine year old that, not only are Disney princesses not real, but not a viable career option.”

He chuckled next to you, legs stretching out in front of him. “Harsh.”

“What about you?” You nudged him again, “Why do you write?”

“Because I love music and words are the language of music,” Jeongguk’s finger dug into the sand, absently drawing geometric shapes before brushing them away with the heel of his palm, “Even instrumental pieces can be described in words. Whimsical, haunting, pretty. That kind of thing.”

“I didn’t have to ask you if you loved it…” It was a rhetorical sentiment, trailed off as you stared at the nudge of his fingernail into a crooked rectangle.

“Can you do me a favor, when you go back home?”

“Please don’t tell me not to forget you. We live in the twenty-first century. I expect a picture of Seokjin with his shrimp magazine once a week.”

He was smiling when his hand slipped to your cheek, turning your gaze to his. “I’m serious,” His eyes flicked between yours, dizzying you in a mess of stars that never seemed to blur with the speed of his insistent gaze. “Scrap your entire novel. Start over.”

“What? Do you understand—”

Jeongguk’s lips felt like home. You hadn’t placed your guard around those. “I don’t understand. You won’t let me read it,” His forehead pressed to yours, “but just try it.”

“But Namjoon—”

Another kiss, gentle, a brush of your mouths together, just enough to swallow your insecurities. “The new one will be just as great. Better. More than enough to send to Namjoon.”

“How do you know?”

His thumb brushed against the apple of your cheek, eyes following the movement, “Would you allow him to read your current draft in its entirety? Not just what you’ve gotten finished while here.”

You hesitated long enough for Jeongguk to kiss you again, lingering enough to properly swallow what you were going to say. No, absolutely not.

“Might as well try—” His cheeks dimpled and it was the first genuine smile you’d allowed yourself in days, “—right?”

“Can you do me a favor?” You asked after several seconds of indulging in each other’s affections, lips swollen and brushing against his mouth.

“I won’t send you shirtless pictures every morning, no—” He shifted enough to shed himself of the pink checkered flannel on his shoulders, wrapping it to your shoulders to pull you against his side, “Taehyung already thinks I’m vain.”

You smacked Jeongguk’s shoulder and he giggled, leaning forward just enough to brush the tips of your noses together. Once. Twice. Four times.

“No,” You tilted to squish your noses together, locking his gaze to yours, “Try to pursue something with music. I don’t care if it’s DJing at that shitty club Taehyung was trying to get us to go to last week. Or maybe busking on the weekends. You can set up in front of the pond as you enter the neighborhood.”

“I don’t…”

“Try it,” You punctuated it with a hard kiss to his lips, “What can it hurt?”

You’d shifted to lay between his legs, cheek on his chest, kisses shifted to his chest over his shirt, his sprinkled to your forehead, cheeks, nose. He hummed into the ministrations, nosing over your hairline.

“Theoretically, if I were to become a famous musician, would you come to my first gig? It’ll never happen, but you’re a writer. Speaking in hypotheticals...”

You settled your chin between the hard planes of his chest, “Depends. Will you buy my novel?”

“Three copies. I’ll come to three separate book signings to get personalized notes from you.”

You giggled and Jeongguk couldn’t help but kiss your nose. Twice. “Then yes. I’ll come to your first gig. Maybe two of them, if you pay for my plane ticket.”

He seemed satisfied with the answer even as an insecurity seemed to linger on the tip of his tongue, one that festered when he glanced over your head to the ocean, still as dark and thrashing as before. “You really won’t forget about me, will you? Because truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever forget about you.”

“You’re stuck with me, unfortunately. Give me your email and we can be penpals. You can remind me not to crush the dreams of elementary students while I’m at work…”

“...but no, Jeongguk,” You squeezed his waist, pressing your lips to the center of his chest, “I won’t forget you.”

“I’ll still send you my lyrics. They’ll probably be about you for a while, anyway.”

“I’ll let you read snippets of my novel, once I restart. Actually let you read something I’m proud of.”

“I’ll send you a picture of the first dollar I get from busking. It’ll probably be from Seokjin, but it’ll count.”

“I’ll miss you. And your cookies.”

“Miss implies forgetting,” His index finger lifted to prod at your pouted bottom lip, “We aren’t forgetting.”

Another sad smile, a different type of sad, one of the up most cliche smile because it happened, adorned your features as you raised a pinky finger. Slightly crooked, open, without your guard, “Pinky promise?”

Jeongguk’s lips distracted you from the feeling of home that came with the link of your pinky’s, squeezing onto your digit. “Pinky promise.”

Zero progress in eight weeks.

Park Jimin was standing in front of your desk with a copy of your novel in hand, a nervous smile pasted on his plump lips, feet shifting awkwardly beneath him as he waited on you to finish typing. He’d told you to keep working and who were you to deny him of that request.

“What can I do for you?” It wasn’t anything work related. You’d already passed the advice column and your office down to him in exchange for a feature column and a better office with a better computer monitor. He wasn’t getting that too.

The book hit your desk and he scurried to amend the flurry of papers that kicked up around it, speaking as he shuffled through the documents. “My girlfriend, she, uh, loves your novel and I was wondering if you could, uh, sign it for me? Maybe? It’d make her day, year probably, and—”

“Yeah, Jimin,” You reached for the book, dismissing his efforts to clean your desk with a flick of your wrist and a smile, a genuine one, “Of course I can sign it. What’s her name?”

The waxy cover contained the result of your efforts, the painstaking nights you’d stayed up sobbing over your manuscript, the early symptoms of carpal tunnel from hacking at your backspace too much, your familiarity with deleting and recovering entire documents. But most importantly, the return of your passion, your love, your fears the ultimate roadblock to the end of your novel and the beginning of a new, the one currently hidden behind a couple emails and your column for the following week.

The beauty of dual screens.

“Thank you so much,” The blonde gushed, clutching the novel against his chest when you were done scrawling on the cover with a ballpoint pen, “She’ll be so excited. Thank you!”

Your phone was prepared to text Hoseok, did you pay Jimin to do that?, when you noticed another notification, red and glaring at you from your messages application. It was a familiar contact name, a message written in a font generated by something, a three step process he must have taken to type, copy, and paste it. Even through the silly font did your heart swell.

They say lest we forget, but why forget when I can be there with you, if you’ll let me.

You kicked away from your desk, propping your foot onto the seat of your chair, phone onto your knee.

Alright, Guk, what’s the significance of this one?

There was several seconds of typing, deleting, typing again, silence, more typing. Finally, a message. A single emoticon, the side eyes, the ones that knew something with a slightly upturned mouth. You were halfway through another inquiry, an okay, what the hell does that emoji mean, Jeon? when you received a picture.

His hair was brown now. Dark and fluffy and disheveled across his forehead where a single pink note was pasted to his skin. The ink was dark, prominent, like he’d sat and scraped at it for hours.

I’LL SEE YOU SOON.

You called him.

“Jeongguk, what the fuck are you talking about—”

“I got an audition.”

You paused and he continued with a shaky breath, “I got an audition. In your town. For music. Singing.”

“...so what you’re saying is you’re going to become a big superstar and I’m going to have to pay my own way to your first concert—”

“Baby,” Jeongguk whined, “I haven’t got the spot yet.”

“Yeah, but you will.”

There was another pause, some rustling in the background and then he hummed, “I’m going to sing a song about you. For the audition.”

Your cheeks heated and you rolled toward the window, blankly staring at the towering building next to the office. “Yeah? What’s it called?”

“Wonder.”

“Yeah I wonder what you’ve titled the song about me, if it’s not my name—”

“The song is called Wonder…”

There was a pause and he was singing again, just as soft as you remembered, the same lyrics he’d serenaded you with on the beach holding a different weight now, both literally without the organic strum of a guitar and figuratively to what the polished poetry did to your healed heart, open and ready.

You murmured into his soft, teasing hums, hugging a knee to your chest, “That song, huh?”

“I told you already. I can’t seem to write anything that’s not about you,” You could hear Jeongguk’s smile, “That didn’t change in the months since you went home.”

Your cheeks heated all the way to the back of your neck, filtering to the shy roll of your shoulders as you hunched over your knee, squeezing it tighter, and you reveled in that he couldn’t see you to quip, “You know what has changed though? Your jokes. I think they’ve gotten dumber.”

There was still a smile in his voice, even as he threatened, “Alright, listen here you little—"

“Watch it or I’ll sue for you using ‘me’ without my consent.”

“You based an entire character in a bestselling novel after me. It’s only fair.”

You spluttered, “I did not—”

“And for the record? Washboard abs is a lame description of my godly physique. Even I know that and I’m but a mere lyricist.”

“I’m going to kick your ass when you get here.”

“...so you’ll want to see me?”

“Of course,” Your voice softened and you watched a bird climb altitude before fluttering to the windowsill, “I have to sign your three copies of my novel.”

Jeongguk laughed, sweet in your ears.

“I can’t wait…”

#bts #jeon jungkook #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook scenario #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #bts fluff #bts x reader #i changed the summary from what i had on my wip ajfdklasjf #ANYWAY :'-)

1K notes · View notes

saturatedolan · 6 years ago

Text

Temptress - Grayson Dolan (Part Two)

Read Temptress Part one here

WARNING: SMUT, age gap

Summary: Grayson and Y/N continue to desire each other from afar. Ever since their first sexual encounter, they just can’t seem to stop thinking about each other. It’s only a matter of time until their temptations completely consume them, leading them to do the greatest act of intimacy.

Word count: 8.4K

A/N: Hi! So here’s Temptress part two. Thank you guys so much for the love I received from part one, it was my frist attempt and i’m still shocked at how much attention it got. Anyway, hope you guys like this one, this is my second time posting it because the first time didn’t work out lol.

If you haven’t read part one yet, the link is just below the title.

“Goodbye, Y/N”

The two words walked across her mind as if she actually gave them permission to. To devour her brain into thinking such things. The small tremor of his throat to the tapping of the tongue invaded her head. Perhaps she could just think of something else, something that doesn’t concern the darkness of his eyes, his chocolate waves, his plump mouth and the way he says her name. But she simply couldn’t find room in her mind full of deep carnal desires. The innocence laced in his words were no match for her newly found cravings that consisted of her next door neighbor.

Once she left his house that scorching Tuesday afternoon she couldn’t help but imagine all the things his body could do to hers. She was itching to feel his mouth pressed on her again, to hear his voice whisper into her ear as he delivered a tsunami of pleasure to her core. Her purity had been completely tainted and she couldn’t believe it; how one man had so much power over her. She had him begging on her knees, begging to suck his throbbing cock right after he had just tasted her sweet juices. She was completely infatuated with Grayson, and he was completely under Y/N’s spell.

It had been about a week after her first ever sexual encounter with the god himself. She would often catch herself going off on a tangent and envisioning his sculpted body on top of hers, his long fingers inside the place she desired them the most. She was desperate for his touch again.

Oh, how Grayson wanted her to take all of him! As soon as she left him he knew he did something to her that day; he released a sort of sensuality about her. Of course, he denied Y/N from his cock. He could tell that she was never the type to give into sexual endeavors, but he somehow allowed her to feel liberated. One could only imagine the things that she would do for him and the things he would do for her; to make each other erupt into squirming messes.

Grayson had never really met someone like Y/N. She was the subject of his erotic fantasies. Hell, even the thought of her bright smile or her piercing eyes caused him to get aroused. It’s a shame that Grayson hadn’t touched her since that fateful day, he too was getting impatient. He would touch himself every night at the thought of her, letting the darkness consume his whole body.

“Fuck,” he let out a rough moan into the dimness of his room. His hand slid up and down his throbbing cock, going at a slow pace while picturing Y/N in his room waiting to please him. He used his thumb to swipe his reddened tip and disperse his precum onto the rest of his shaft. Grayson imagined her naked body lightly stepping towards him, her feet almost floating off the wood; her expression was needy, almost as if it was painful. He never had the chance to see her bare breasts but he was sure that they were magnificent. Perfect teardrops that fit rightfully in his hand where they belong.

“Y/N,” he couldn’t help but whisper her name as he began to pick up the pace. He went to glide his large had throughout his long member and imagined her tiny hand instead, touching him for the very first time. How she would feel every ridge and vein that he had for her. It was all for her.

His hair was now sticking to his forehead, perspiration building around his body in the humid summer evening. Moments passed where he would just get lost in the thought of her features, she the epitome of perfect to him. He was so detached from reality, putting his all into this both physically and conceptually. His naked body glistened against the midnight moon, creating a mouth-watering scene for Y/N and anyone who dared to paint the picture in their head.

His movements were fast now, his face contorting into a frown at the thought of her. His sticky, sweaty body heaving, his arm bulging and abs flexing as he released all over himself. All for her. His cum shot up as he kept pumping, almost feeling himself planting his seed all over her untouched channel. He was begging to see how it would trickle out of her as he pulled out, his own cum cascading down her tight little hole and onto the sheets.

He was flustered and out of breath. The thumping in his chest was almost out of control until his head shot up, hearing a high pitch squeal coming from house number three. He held his breath for a moment, so desperately wanting to hear it again.

Images of Y/N surged through his head, making his naked body jump up – still sticky with sweat and cum – to peer through his window, observing the beautiful greenness against the beams of the moon. His eyes scanned the house, noticing a light coming from the top left window, the curtain fluttering against the wind. Every muscle in his body tensed as he heard it again. The achingly delicious sounds of Y/N that he needed to hear so urgently. Her moans must have been loud considering he could hear her sweet little voice from his house.

Blood rushed to his cock as it twitched at the thought of her touching herself to him. He could easily imagine her delicate little fingers rubbing her pink clit until it she shattered into a million pieces.

Y/N was so close to the edge; she could feel the pleasure stream to her core as she imagined taking Grayson – all of him inside her. The warm light of her bedside lamp kept her looking angelic, a sort of glow radiating from her sweaty figure. She kept squirming while her body took her breath away, constantly trying to regulate it as best as she could. But her fun was interrupted once she heard a knock on her door, immediately cursing at herself for being so uncontrollably loud.

“Honey? You alright in there?” The sound of her mother’s voice echoed in her room, hearing the tone of genuine concern in her voice.

“Uh- Yes mother, everything’s fine!” She could’ve sworn that her parents were fast asleep already, but he thanked God that her parents allowed her to have a lock on the door. She couldn’t even imagine what her mother would do if she walked into the sight of her daughter’s exposed pink pussy, touching herself to the thought of the man next door. Y/N kept going though, keeping her fingers on her clit, circling it gently enough so she didn’t have the urge to squeal.

“Okay sweetheart, just don’t stay up too late. Remember, we have church tomorrow morning. Then we’re having the neighbors over for dinner so get some rest.” She spoke calmly, suspecting nothing but innocence going on at the other side of the door.

Y/N started to apply more pressure to her clit, vividly remembering Grayson’s thick fingers against her heat. “Neighbours?” She questioned, eyebrows arching. She would be lying if she said that that thought of getting caught didn’t turn her on.

“Yes, the Dolans. One of their boys stopped by a few days ago and thanked me for the fruit.”

Grayson Dolan. Her mind was feverishly conjuring up images of his perfectly sculpted physique. She couldn’t resist him any longer and she could combust with all the frustration!

“He’s such a lovely boy. He couldn’t stop talking about how delicious the fruits were – said they were utterly delightful,” she let out a light chuckle, “talked about how he enjoyed every last drop of their juices.” Y/N’s mother shook her head at the boy’s words, rather amused at how a boy could talk so highly about fruit.

Y/N could feel her fingers increase the rapid movements, aroused at the audacity of the man. How could he just have inexplicitly exchanged every detail of their intimacy to her own mother like that?

“Anyway, you need to get up early tomorrow, goodnight honey!” And with that, her mother turned away and walked back to her room, closing her door with a small creek.

Y/N was now shaking. The idea of Grayson relaying their filthy details made her whole body sweat, both adrenaline and pleasure coursing through her veins. She increased the speed of her fingers once again, wishing that Grayson were here to amplify her pleasure. The way his bicep would flex as he would rub her pussy, the swiftness of his fingers, how his abs would contract as he leaned over her. She focused on his so soft lips, how they stick to hers, sucking them and fondling them with his tongue. Just the thought of being around him, feeling the radiating attraction between them, made her cover her mouth and shut her eyes hard.

She was cumming, intensely, at the thought of the perfect man next door, resisting the urge to scream his name in hopes that he could hear her desire.

Y/N adjusted her dress, pulling it down slightly to hide the marks that Grayson had left for her. She was in pain. Her heart yearned for Grayson, and so did her pussy. It was a type of yearning that made her want him more each passing minute, yet she knew the longer the wait the better it would feel. She was almost contemplating just going over there and taking his cock, not caring about who saw them. It was a thought to appease a short term satisfaction but, truthfully, she was far too concerned that her parents would find out. An innocent girl lusting over the striking man next door would definitely be the last thing on their mind.

She opened the door, coming face to face with her fantasy. His hazel eyes gleaming as the porch light reflected on them. His face was scruffy, the dark stubble somehow made him look far more handsome – if that was even possible. His bright smile and tilted lips caused her to grin back at him, showing her pearly whites. How could a man like him cause such an eruption of lust and delightfulness in her stomach at the same time?

Grayson slightly chuckled as he watched her stare at him. She looked so beautiful tonight, her little dress covering just over half of her wonderful thighs which he knew belonged to him Her little grin caused his trousers to get tighter and he loved it. Grayson absolutely adored how everything Y/N did, no matter how innocent, would turn him on. Even the vivacity in her eyes made his throat hitch because he knew that he was the one to make her feel like this. It was a sort of trance for him, capturing her eyes almost made him let out a groan. He couldn’t help but think of the way her eyes followed every move of his long tongue on that sizzling summer day. But his little moment with his was disrupted as Y/N’s father came to greet him, a wide welcoming smile of his face.

Their families greeted each other with warm smiles, exchanging hellos and compliments about the delicious smell coming from the kitchen. Their eyes were still fixated on each other though. Every now and then Grayson would trail his hard eyes along her figure and his mouth would water. He had never wanted to take anyone so badly. Just the thought of her ripe cherry around his cock sent an electric vibration through his spine down to his cock. This was all he could think about. He was trying hard to keep his eyes off their only child, but it was proving more difficult as time passed.

Y/N’s pussy fluttered as their parents rambled on about the fruit again. She was starting to think that Grayson might have told every person in the neighborhood about the delightful flavours of her fruit. Mr. and Mrs. Dolan would insist on its fresh deliciousness, which perfectly described her aching core.

Their muffled words were hard to make out as her attention was completely focused of Grayson, but she could pick out adjectives such as ‘succulent’ and ‘ripe’ during her parent’s intense conversation about the farmer’s market across town. Grayson and Y/N tried hard to make their stares less obvious, but they failed completely. Their parents knew to sit them right next to each other on the dinner table, unable to differentiate between glances of pure lust and friendly infatuation. Their parents suspected nothing but an innocent little friendship blossoming.

They caught them stealing glances at one another and grinning like a pair of old friends. Although, what they didn’t catch was Grayson’s creeping hand inching towards her dripping pussy right under the neatly decorated table. The fact that Y/N would twitch every so often completely flew over their heads. So they continued on chatting, discussing the very serious topic of popsicle recipes and the merriments of their sweltering summer days.

Grayson used his fingers to caress Y/N’s creamy thighs, edging his way to her drenched pussy that he so wanted to taste again. She let out a few quiet whimpers here and there, his large hand had hadn’t completely made contact on her willing core just yet. He was teasing her slowly, agonizingly trailing his fingertips up and down her thighs until he reached the hem of her underwear. The thickness of his fingers invaded her soaked underwear as he felt the warmth radiating from the deep inside her.

Her eyes grew wide at his sudden movements. Pulses of electricity laced through her bones as she felt his heavy fingers trace along her lips, collecting her juices. It took her by surprise; how he just plunged his fingers in as if it were a casual thing to do. Her posture grew stiff and thankfully no one noticed apart from Grayson himself. He smirked to himself, knowing that his touch was far too tempting for her.

Peering down at her, he witnessed her eyes meet his and his pulse grew fast. Now it was her turn to notice the effect she had on him. Her wide eyes glimmered as she saw herself in the reflection of his hazel iris’. Grayson kept eye contact as he smoothed his fingers along her pussy to reach her clit, applying slight pressure which made her head slightly spin.

It wasn’t long until Y/N’s mother brought out her sweet-smelling peach pie, reminding Grayson about the sweet flavours of Y/N that still lingered on his tongue. He eyed the dessert as it was laid on the table. The thoughts of her sugary juices enabled him to rub her with more force, quickening his face on her pinkness. Y/N felt a frenzy of emotions flood her system as he increased his pace. It was only a matter of time until she would burst. She was so sensitive, and the fact that he hasn’t touched her for so long added to her frustration. But, unfortunately for her, he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving her with a frown on her face.

Grayson stopped on purpose, lifting his fingers up from under the table. The thickness of his fingers were still covered in her wetness as he used them to dip into the whipped cream which sat on top of the dessert. He lifted his fingers to his mouth and tasted the sweetness with her juices lingering with the frothy cream. He sucked until there were no remains left.

Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of his hollowed cheeks with the plumpness of his lips. She was dripping again, her wetness almost leaking out of her underwear and tricking down onto her seat.

“Mmm.” Grayson let out a rough growl at her before picking up his fork and devouring the sweetness placed in front of him, keeping his eyes on her the whole time to make sure she was watching the movements of his mouth.

They were alone now. Grayson’s parents decided to show off their extensive recipe book collection and invited Y/N’s parents over, leaving their children to clean up and ‘get to know each other’ as Mrs. Dolan suggested. Little did they know, they’ve been more intimate with one another than any of their parents supposed.

“Here,” Grayson passed her the last of the utensils and she grabbed them, washing them and rinsing the suds off.

Y/N’s breath hitched as she felt his hands attach themselves to her waist, his head nuzzled up in her neck.

“You always smell so…” He trailed off, thinking of the perfect word to describe her. “Tempting”, he said as he took in another breath of her scent.

“Tempting?” She arched her eyebrow as she continued to lather up the last few utensils. She tried to act unfazed yet he could feel her heart beating rapidly against his chest.

“Yeah,” he bit her ear, causing a light moan to escape her lips, “you smelt so sweet,” he placed a kiss just under her ear, “it took me all the strength in my body to resist taking you on the table”. He sucked softly on her skin only to detach them again. “Right in front of your parents.”

This caused her stomach to erupt with hundreds of butterflies. She spun around, dropping the spoons in her hands straight away. Her face was so close to his gorgeous features. They took this moment to observe their eyes, slowly darkening as the seconds passed.

She bought her lips to touch his pink ones, gently exchanging a passionate kiss which lit a fire in both their cores. The slight smacking sounds of their lips made Greyson’s bulge grow. Then she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to enter her again. It was a slow kiss, emptying out their desires just by one small action.

Y/N was the first to make a move; gliding her delicate hands over his rock hard chest, touching his torso and to his rock hard budge. She palmed him through the thick material of his trousers, surprising herself with how forward she was being. He felt so big in her petite hand and it made her drip.

He let out a groan of pleasure, the innocent girl was no longer there as he detached their lips and stared down at her peering eyes. He swore that he could see swirls in her eyes, almost as if she was hypnotising him. Her lips tilted upwards as she grabbed his neck and crashed their lips together, hunger evident in their mouths.

Grayson entered his tongue into her mouth, tasting the lingering sweetness of the dessert. He used his lips to suck on her tongue slightly, letting out a rough rasp.

The tender hands which held his cock applied more pressure, palming him more roughly and making his labored breaths escape with a groan. She used her fingers to undo his belt and the clanking of the metal buckles cause him to pull away.

“Y/N-”

“Please, Grayson,” she cut him off quickly, “I want you in my mouth. I want to taste you.”

He stayed silent, stunned at what just came out of his innocent little temptress’ mouth. She was batting her eyelashes, looking as pure as ever. She looked as if she had a heart of gold, the most chaste looking girl with the filthiest mind. It was some sort of sexual awakening for her; ever since that afternoon spent with Grayson all she could think about was how he tasted, how he would feel wrapped around her hot mouth.

“Don’t you want to,” she paused, finding the right words to say, “feel my lips around you?” He could tell that she was new to this but he didn’t mind one bit. It turned him on so much just hearing her voice all needy.

Their eyes met again and he couldn’t resist his temptress much longer as he became speechless. Grayson groaned as he watched her unbutton his trousers and pull them down, exposing his hard cock strained against his black Calvin Kleins. The wetness in her panties leaked down her thighs at the sight of him. She could tell that he’s been waiting for this. For her to finally touch him where he needed her most.

Grayson grabbed her chin and lifted her lips to meet his one last time before she went down again. The kiss was wet and sloppy, the sounds of smacking and sucking disturbed the still silence in the kitchen.

Y/N didn’t waste any time, using her fingers to hook into the elastic of his boxers and swiftly pull it down. His cock sprang free and it grazed her nose slightly, causing his lips to part at the tiny touch.

She was on her knees now, just staring at him. Her mouth was watering at the sight of his long heavy cock. She was so desperate to lick it but she was so entranced with how it looked. So pink, the tip almost red with drops of precum leaking from it.

“Come on Y/N, I want to feel myself down your tight little throat.” His voice was oozing sexiness. It was so hoarse and low which urged her to grab his thickness, pumping it slowly. She could feel every detail of his cock, from his velvety skin to the ridges of his veins. Her thumb went up to the tip to spread his precum over the tip and she could hear his breaths speeding up. She licked her lips, spitting into her hand, smearing it up and down his cock.

“Where the fuck did you learn that from?” He was surprised; he never thought a girl like her would know what to do.

“Watching... stuff.” A genuine smile caused her lips to tilt and look up at him. He was trying extremely hard to restrain himself and she could feel his desperation emitting from his labored breaths.

Y/N had watched filth for the first time after Grayson made her squirt. She couldn’t help it. She became so frustrated yet she found that she came her hardest purely from the thought of him. This young lady didn’t need the sights of other people fucking to satisfy her. She quickly realised this as she let out a scream of ecstasy one night, simply from the thought of his fingers.

“I never knew my girl was so dirty,” yet he recognised that there was some kind of carnal quality about Y/N. Something that caused his mind to wonder too many times during the day.

He wasn’t expecting it when he felt her wet tongue make contact with his cock. She was tracing it along one of his prominent veins, going from the base making her way to the tip. She could feel it pulsing on the surface of her tongue as she trailed it upwards. She licked the precum off from his slit and kissed it tenderly. He let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her soft lips on his cock. He almost came on her face when she did that.

Slipping her tongue out of her mouth, she wrapped her lips around his eager looking tip. The taste of his cock made her taste buds tingle and her eyes to widen. He tasted salty yet there was a small undertone of sweetness which lingered on her lips. She used her hand to pump the rest of his length as she began to take more and more of him into her mouth. His cock was still sticky from her spit and she loved how it felt so smoothly against her palm.

She had been dreaming of this; wondering what it would be like for him to fill her desperate little mouth. It was a kind of satisfaction she needed, not exactly for her, but for him. She craved to feel his seed shoot through her throat.

“Y/N,” was all that escaped Grayson’s parted lips as he felt her go deeper, taking almost half of him already.

She was pleased to see him like this. It gave her great pleasure to see this man writhe because of her. She smiled against his cock and he felt her lips tilt and he looked down at the beautiful sight before him. Her eyes were peering up at him, the light reflecting off them and they looked almost glossy, filling with tears of pleasure. Her lips were wrapped tightly around him as if she were used to it and her hands pumped him as if she knew what kind of effect she had on him. She smiled once again at him, increasing the speed of her hand and shoved his length deeper into her.

It was when he felt his tip hit the back of her throat that he knew he was about to cum. He used his hand to grab her face again right before he burst down her throat. He pulled her face up to his and attached their lips together roughly, their teeth clashing. His tongue immediately entered hers and he could taste the saltiness of his cock that remained on her lips. But, she pulled away all too quickly.

“Grayson,” her breath was rapid. “I want to feel,” she was peppering soft kisses right next to his ear lobe. “Your cum,” she bit into his lobe, pulling at it. “Down my throat.” His breath hitched as the words escaped her sweet lips. He was surprised at her enthusiasm today but what just came out of her mouth made his cock jerk.

Y/N was back on her knees in seconds, desperate for the man of her dreams to explode in her mouth. She was pumping his cock so rapidly and her lips were sucking so hard that he let out a vulgar moan. It was low and raspy but it was so loud. And it kept her going, encouraging her to take him deeper and thrust her hand faster.

He tried so hard to let her be, but he had to move his hands to grip her hair, now fucking her needy little mouth. He was careful not to go too deep though, not knowing that was all she wanted. She wanted to take all of him as her moans and shrieks vibrated against his rock hard cock. Grayson loved pulling her hair and he enjoyed every second of his fingers intertwining with her hair and moving her head up and down against his shaft.

Tears began to well up in her eyes as he pushed inside her mouth, getting rougher with each thrust. It was a whole new experience for her but she loved every second of it.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” his breaths were heaving, “Your mouth is so pretty wrapped around my cock like that.”

She moaned at his kind words, the way it rolled off his tongue as if he wasn’t fucking her throat. The vibrations in her mouth were what set the stream of cum to spill inside her. He let out a brash moan as he felt his seed shooting out and into her tightness.

Y/N took it all. She loved the feeling of his cum trickling down her throat. There were strands of hair stuck to his forehead as he glistened in front of her while the sweat from his head dripped to his eyebrow. She only just noticed his red cheeks and his pink lips. He looked so handsome.

“I can’t wait to cum inside you.” Grayson pulled her closer as his hands gripped her waist.

“I-” Y/N was cut off by the sound of the front door unlocking, panic now in her eyes. She immediately flung her arms up to her hair, combing the tangled mess while Grayson pulled his pants up and buckled his belt. They were both frantic, fixing each other’s appearance. But within the midst of tidying themselves, Grayson leaned in to give her one last kiss, just a small peck filled with the softness of his lips, before heading towards the front door.

Y/N stood there, still. She watched as his tall body stepped out of the kitchen as she heard her parents greet him at the door only to say goodbye to him. Still dazed, she pat down her dress and wiped her mouth once more, welcoming her parents back with the taste of his cum still remaining on her tongue.

The night was dark yet the brightness of the full moon shone it’s bright blue tint onto the summer foliage. It was the perfect summer night for a cooling swim.

Y/N had been busy all day long. Driving her parents to the airport and running countless amount of errands made her extremely flustered. She didn’t think of Grayson once all day, and perhaps it was good for her. Her heavenly fantasies with this man were slowly creeping away and she felt somewhat different.

The humid summer evening was relaxing for her. She slipped off her t-shirt and shorts, exposing her in the most revealing bikini that she owned. She’d been dying to wear all summer. She would have already worn it if it wasn’t for parents. The fact that they would judge her or might even suspect something about her recent sexual encounters deferred her from showing off her body until she was completely alone.

She stepped into the pool, the tones of blue reflecting onto her face as she fully submerged her body into the warm water. It was a bright full moon tonight; the fact that it was around ten slipped her mind due to the bright illumination of the moon.

Despite the distractions which halted her fantasies, Y/N would occasionally steal glances at Grayson’s window when she knew his house was empty. Both their houses were empty.

She could hear the mellow sounds of crickets gently filling the air as she floated along the stillness of the pool. She hadn’t had a night quite like this during the summer. She was busy the whole time and she barely had any time to herself. And now that she was all alone, all she could think about was Grayson. How his muscles flexed and how his lips felt like pillows. She truly was infatuated with him and she was ashamed to admit that she was still aching for his cock.

She let out a sigh as she stepped out of the pool. Her wet body was glistening against the beams of the moon. The droplets of water stuck to her skin and her baiting suit was now clinging to her hardened nipples.

Grayson was surprised to see her out there, all wet and glistening for him. He had just got back from the gym only to see Y/N looking as beautiful as ever. He could basically feel the adrenaline in his veins spike up again at the sight of her perfection. The tip of his cock twitched as he observed her taking a towel and running it over her body. From her shoulders, down to her plump breasts then through her velvety thighs.

The light seeped through his windows and illuminated his tanned skin perfectly. Every crevice of his torso shadowed by the darkness, accentuating the hardness of his skin.

Y/N got rather aroused at touching herself just then. The idea of having Grayson take her in the pool was something that made her mind wander back to the lust-filled tangents that she had been having. She happened to get so aroused that she turned straight away to head to her bedroom, the place where she would relieve herself of these dirty thoughts. Though, she sighed because she knew that she would never be fully satisfied with just her fingers.

As she turned she noticed that a Grayson’s window lit up light up, a silhouette of the muscular man watching her intensely. It gave her flashbacks to when they eyed each other during her party a couple weeks ago. The first time she that had ever had dirty thoughts for a man. She smirked, knowing how filthy she’s become after a few weeks of desire.

And so, with her filthy mind taking over, she continued to bend down, drying the droplets off her legs, knowing damn well that Grayson’s eyes were still glued to her body. Her mouth curved upwards as she drew her arms back to untie her bikini top, revealing her juicy looking breasts and her hard little nipples. With a wide smile, she stared at him, almost taunting him. She just stood there, all confident and willing like she had no idea how it affected him.

He was not expecting such a bold move to come out from someone so innocent looking like Y/N. Yet he knew her, she was needy and expecting nothing more than his cock inside her. Admittedly, he too was desperate to feel her write around him. No matter how badly Grayson wanted her – completely aware of their age gap – he would always be tempted by her.

And with that, he didn’t hesitate to leave his room, not bothering to put a shirt on, and pace right out of his front door to her porch.

She heard her doorbell go off multiple times, knowing exactly who it was. The dinging of the bell was fast and frantic and she could tell that he was as desperate for her as she was for him.

With a grin, she opened the door to a heaving Grayson, his bare chest was rising up and down at a rapid pace and the bulge was prominent in his grey sweats. She parted her lips to welcome him in but he pushed her inside, closing the door shut and spinning her to slam her petite frame against the door.

“You want the whole neighborhood to see your tits?” Her cheeks began to redden after he scolded her for her recklessness, she was far too excited to put her shirt on. Despite his livid tone he couldn’t help but feel his cock rise higher at the view in front of him.

“Mm, you look delicious.” He murmured against her neck, his warm breath sending tingles down her spine right to her throbbing pussy. His tone softened and so did his face.

A shriek came out of her mouth as he cupped her tender breast into his large hands. He bought his lips to one of her nipples while his hand remained on her other one. The way his tongue moved against her caused tiny little moans to escape her tender lips. He was sucking it hard. Oh, how he loved how perfect she was, her skin was so soft and her tits fit so perfectly in his palm.

“Grayson! I need you inside me, please.” Her begging eyes caused his cock to grow even more, it filled his heart with such a powerful adoration which made his heart to skip a beat.

Their lips crashed together again as he grabbed her thighs and lifted her up, his arms bulging yet she felt as light as a feather. Y/N took this opportunity to rub herself against his hard torso, she could feel every detail and crevice of his abs and it made her legs tingle. She could feel his rough grasp on her thighs getting tighter, her breasts rubbing against his chest causing the buds of nipples to get hard.

She had been fantasizing about this moment ever since she laid eyes on him, and even more since he gave her her first ever orgasm. It was inevitable that these two would find a way to become fully intimate each other after that afternoon. And without raising anyone’s suspicions too.

The shirt that Grayson wore began to get imprints of her wet, needy pussy, her rubbing making him want to devour her. And so, Grayson walked over to the staircase with long strides and carried her upstairs. While he did so she whispered sweet nothings into his ear as she fit her head perfectly in his neck; “I want you so badly Grayson,” and “you’re all that I’ve been thinking about” slipped from her tongue in breathy moans. She held him tightly, feeling his body pressed up against hers was such a wonderful feeling.

How he knew where her bedroom was slipped her mind, a mystery to her, but he opened her door and the scent engulfed his body entirely. The smell of summer berries and honey filled his senses as he gently set her down on the bed where she had came multiple times at the thought of the man before her.

Her room was dark yet it was dimly lit by the moon. The iridescence reflected off her skin and it made her look almost dreamlike; the glowing little lady that was about to get fucked so hard by a man years older than her.

Y/N was a moaning mess, the loss of his touch caused her to wrap her arms around his neck and attach their lips again in a passionate and heated kiss. The way her fingers traced down his chest to his bulge made his knees go weak.

Grayson took this opportunity to slip his pants down which uncovered his strained cock against his grey boxers. In her eyes, it was somehow bigger than the last time she’d seen it. Perhaps it was how the moonlight played tricks against the shadows, but she knew that he was large.

“Are you sure baby?” His words were barely a whisper, almost afraid that she would be having second thoughts about this. He would never force himself on anyone, no matter how badly he desired them.

“Please, Grayson.” She was so desperate, so eager to feel his cock around her.

At this point, she didn’t even realise that she had been touching herself, gliding her fingers across her clit as he stood there before her. It was a marvelous sight which made him let out a happy sigh. He would love to just gawk at her trying to make herself cum, but he knew that he would be the one to make her cum the hardest.

And with that, he pushed her shoulders down onto the bed, causing her to lay down completely with her beautiful legs spread out for him. He untied the strings of her swimsuit bottoms, exposing her glistening pussy against the glimmer of the moonlight. It looked so shiny, hot and ready for him.

He couldn’t resist delving into her and using his tongue to lick up one long strip of her juices. The one stroke ignited a hot trail that caused her to moan from excitement. Just his tender touch on her pussy caused her mind to race with thoughts of him actually inside her. Her desperate desire caused her fingers to lock themselves in his chocolate tresses and pull his face up to hers, staring deep into the shadows in his eyes.

“I want-”

“Trust me, baby.” He knew that she was eager, but he wanted to prepare her first. He wanted nothing but to hear her screaming from pleasure, but she needed to be ready first.

Swiftly, he pressed a soft kiss to her lips and slid his lead down towards her hot pussy again. It was so wet, just how he loved it. He used his fingers to trace along her lips, opening her slightly to thrust his tongue inside her, feeling the slippery folds against his tongue.

Without warning he began to insert his finger into her unpenetrated pussy, immersing himself inside her. The tip of his finger had barely entered her yet she was already squirming, waiting for the feeling of his full length.

“More, Grayson.”

Smirking, he slowly slipped his thick finger in as she moaned his name. The way her pussy gripped his fingers was a whole different sensation that she wanted to feel every day. The new feeling was increased when he started to draw his finger back out then sent it back in, slowly and gently.

“Does that feel good Y/N?”

She let a small “fuck” slip out of her mouth as he increased his speed ever so slightly, going at a passionate pace which drove her insane. He hovered his mouth over her sweetness and she could feel his hot breaths on the spot that she needed him most, adding to the warmth radiating from her. But he suddenly pressed his lips against her core, kissing her clit with a gentle touch before devouring her.

His tongue thrashed and sucked over her neediness. It was like a dream to her, her dazed mind was so overwhelmed with the feelings of pleasure. His arms flexed and the veins were prominent against the shadows as he continued to insert another finger inside, his growing faster.

The humming in his voice caused her legs to shake. She was so ready to erupt on his yet he stopped, crawled up to her face and stared down at her beauty. She was shocked at the sudden loss of contact but just barely seeing his face in the darkness made her smile. She knew that he was staring down at her, admiring her features against the dimness of the room.

“I’m going to fuck you now.” She could hear the smirk on his lips. He bought his face up to her neck to start sucking on her skin, something that he loved to do. “And you’re going to cum so hard for me Y/N.” He was now biting her lightly. “Because you deserve it, baby.”

Their lips met once again. They opened their mouths for each other and explored their tongues for a moment before Grayson pulled away, the hem of his boxers were on his fingers. It sprung up like last time. She recalled every vein and how each of them felt inside her warm mouth and she so wished to feel every detail of him once he was inside of her.

He pumped his length right in front of her. A slow pace which still showcased the thick vein which trailed down from his shoulder to his wrist. He could honestly could have came just by jerking himself off with the sight of the wonderful girl waiting for him that was observing his every move.

But he stopped, knowing that he wouldn’t last long if he kept touching himself, and he bent down to caress her sweet slit with his cock in his hand. She was a whimpering mess and he could feel her need just but pressing his cock against her clit. It was throbbing. Yet without hesitation, he lined himself up to her hole, moaning a little at the thought of being so close to being inside her. It was something that he couldn’t comprehend. The way her eyes looked up at him made him let out a growl.

Pushing the tip in, he could hear her shaky breaths and he couldn’t tell if they were from nerves or excitement.

“I want you deep inside me Grayson.” She practically yelled with desperation in her tone.

That was when he started to push in and she moaned at how she could feel the crevices of his veins against her hot cunt. He was only half way and she felt nothing but pleasure, the feeling of his girth and the sight of his contorting face initiated a string of moans which faded into the darkness of the room.

Grayson was reluctant to go all the way in, but the sound of her voice encouraged him, sliding all of him in her wet tightness. He couldn’t believe that he was fucking her, the innocent girl next door.

“Does that feel good baby?”

“Yes- more.” Her words were shaky.

Her eyes were closed, savoring the sweet sensation of his full length inside her. Gently, he pulled out of her aching core and pushed inside again, pacing himself. But the slow, soft thrusts didn’t last long when she tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled roughly at him.

He started to thrust faster, the whimpers of her soft voice were slowly being masked by the slapping sound made when their pelvis’ would touch. They were completely overcome with the feelings of pleasure. Her tightness surrounding his cock, feeling every inch of his masculinity aching against her walls. Their warm breaths mingled together as their eyes met in the dim light of the room.

Grayson could see the lust in her dark eyes, but that little sparkle of sincerity caused him to go deeper as she silently screamed in his ear. Sweat began to run down her forehead, the humidity of the summer made her skin deliciously sticky. It felt like their skin was meant to press against each other, feeling the slight tackiness of their bodies.

“You don’t know how badly I want to feel your cum around my cock, Y/N.”

They were face to face again, their eyes roaming each other’s features. He let out a low grown as he saw her eyebrows scrunching as her pleading eyes grew wide once he hit a certain spot. She was so beautiful to him like this. It was just something about her big eyes looking up through her lashes that made his cock twitch inside of her. She looked so needy for his cock.

“You know,” he slowed down to get his words out. “You look so fucking pretty when you’re taking my cock.” Then he took her lips in his again, quickly slipping his tongue inside her warm mouth. “I can’t wait to see your face when you cum for me.”

Y/N’s mouth was open, letting out the loud whimpers as she knew he hit her most delicate spot. It sent tingles from her spine to her feet, causing her toes to curl as she continued to feel her g-spot getting rammed by the beautiful man on top of her.

It was almost as if she was completely about to let go when she let out a loud shriek when he forcefully pulled her to the edge of the bed. He stood up and lifted both her legs up towards her chest and now he was deeper than ever. With every thrust, he could graze her most needy spot which made her eyes roll back every time.

Grayson was slowly becoming less gentle with her, knowing that a dirty girl like her would love the feeling of his balls slapping against her ass.

He heaved all of his length into her at an undeniably fast pace. Her squeals and screams were music to his ears and it encouraged him to pound her harder. She could feel the orgasm building up in her stomach and she was so consumed by the pleasure that a tear slipped out of her eye. Doing this was something that evoked a tremendous amount of emotion, yet the reason she was getting teary-eyed was that of the amount of sweet, sweet pleasure she was receiving.

She felt like it was a rough stroke of electricity. The kind of sensation that she would get just as she would fall from a great height of a roller-coaster. The feeling in her caused a yell to come out of her strained mouth as she gushed on his thick cock.

Grayson felt her legs shake against his thighs and he could see that her back was arched. He could barely see her beautiful face but he could make out her furrowed eyebrows, twitching eyelids, and open mouth. This right there was the most beautiful sight that he’d ever seen.

It was like a feeling of accomplishment for him. How his heart would beat just a tad faster at the thought that he could get his girl to scream like that, to become so overwhelmed that she squirted.

Y/N could feel herself spouting all over him now, pulling his cock out to let it all out. She could imagine seeing his smirking face and how he would be completely back inside her in a matter of moments.

And, just as she thought that he would give her another few seconds to release, he was back inside her. The way her legs shook against him aroused him even more. He just wanted to make her cum again, harder than ever before.

Grayson felt so much pleasure inside her; he wouldn’t complain if he could just stay inside her snug channel forever. Just the thought of him spending ‘forever’ with her made his heart skip a beat.

“Grayson!”

She was way too overwhelmed by the pleasure and overstimulation, but she loved every second of it. “Fuck, just like that.” He trusted upwards, reaching the untouched depths of her pussy as she screamed at his compliance.

And that was when he felt the sudden rush of pleasure in his stomach, pulsing its way to his hard cock. Spurts of his cum shot up into her, lusciously coating her inside.

His orgasm causes her to do the same. Their cum mingled together inside her; she could feel the stickiness and she loved it. Her walls continued to squeeze him until she had every had drop of his seed inside her.

Oh, how he loved the feeling of his aching cock giving her everything that he had! Then he slipped himself out of her, eyeing the cum that dripped out of her hole, completely satisfied.

“I can’t wait to fill you with my cum every night, Y/N.” He kissed her ever so tenderly. His voice was sweet and innocent which completely contrasted the filthy words that slipped out of his mouth.

They were both breathing heavily, their naked bodies now intertwined. Their sticky figures laid there in the room which was dimly lit by the beams of the moon.

They barely spoke then; only admiring the beautiful sight of each other against the same moonlight that glowed on them when they used to lay in their own beds, touching themselves to the thought of each other.

#please read it i worked hard on this #grayson dolan #grayson dolan smut #grayson dolan imagine #graysondolan x reader #dolan twins #dolansmut #ethandolan #ethan dolan smut #ethan dolan one shot #grayson dolan oneshot #dolantwinsmut #ethan dolan

527 notes · View notes