#one part of me is in denial about wanting it and is being responsible in not wasting money

[merakiui]

JADE MUSHROOM DILDOS????? THE SENTIENT DOLL PROMPT?? WOULD SOME MORE DETAILS! WHENEVER I TRY TO RUN, THE TWEELS ENSNARE MY ATTENTION AND HEART BY WRAPPING THEIR LONG AND SLIMY TAILS AROUND IT <333

(Fem darling)

Although they're nerds... Maidenless, pathetic (absolutely adorable) I still adore the trope of suave and sleek on the outside, handsome and reliable (yet dubious) Jade, wild and free Floyd who wants to get freaky.. They're what the freshmen of NRC aspire to be. Charismatic and enigmatic.

Yet when behind closed doors, both of them are absolute loser virgins. Nerds who haven't lost their first kiss. Nerds that simply can't admit to liking the prefect~ They're always bullying darling cause it's "fun".

It's not like they could ever harbour feelings for a lil shrimpie! That's ridiculous! Their sex doll? Pfft! Doesn't resemble that shrimpie at all! (This reminds me a little bit of that onna hole series but the difference being that, darling doesn't feel it.)

They're just in complete denial aren't they? They both hide the sexdoll they have, Floyd doesn't know that Jade has one that's nearly the same, Jade doesn't either. Despite them having their own respective ones, their interpretation of darling is totally different! The dolls aren't literally alive, but when they're shoving their cocks, darling's moaning along with them.

When they're in a horny daze, the doll comes to life. (Like in Tatami Galaxy if you happen to know! Difficult to explain but I hope this made sense anyways (⁠ ⁠≧⁠Д⁠≦⁠) )

Floyd interprets darling as completely inexperienced, and really docile and responsive. Whimpers a lot and has this shimmery look in her eyes. (Another example of sex dolls in this instance would be Interspecies reviewer, it's an ecchi anime but I needed inspo ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

"N-no Floyd don't lick me there! Hyaaah! No! Floyd! Floyd-senpai! Nghh!" The pseudo darling whimpers and moans even if his performance is utterly sloppy! A darling that can unravel faster than him (who cums prematurely, wayyy too quickly! Too quick for an athlete!)

"Senpai's too big! You can't!" The cliché subby H-manga character that's catered to loser incels like him. Babbling way too quickly. (Realistically, it takes wayyyy more work to dumbify a person, a quick cummer would never get a real lady to reach that point of babbling in five minutes. Better luck next time, virgin eel!)

Jade interprets darling as someone that's bratty and just as passive aggressive as him. Darling usually wouldn't bother in engaging with Floyd since it doesn't change what Floyd's going to feel about doing his chores. Floyd is just such an unreckoned force, darling always does his bidding to shut his whining. Jade on the other hand is occasionally negotiable.

When the prefect is doing part time in the lounge, Jade's always attempting to break that patient exterior of hers just for his own amusement. (Cuz this loser does not know how to flirt.) Unlike the other staff who immediately lose their tempers and quit within the end of their contract, the prefect always smiles back at him. Giving Jade backhanded compliments, retorts that aren't explicitly rude. The prefect is resilient after all, she successfully negotiated with that stubborn tako for a fat check at every end of the month. This slimy eel can't just push her down so easily!

Darling will never back down, this check has given her and Grim more than just stale bread and leftovers for meals! Jade is sleek and cunning, but Prefect is not an idiot! Jade has met his match for backhanded comments and sly forms of insulting. Saccharine "service" smiles, never a frown on darling.

Jade wants to break that resilience. Something he can't have in reality.. A bratty darling that's easy to manipulate. A bratty darling who messes up her responses. He wants the prefect to feel shame. He wants her to fall for his figurative traps. He wants to utterly humiliate her just like how he did to all the employees that were subject to his bullying.

"Fuck you Jade! Fuuugh!" Insults just turn into moans as he erratically fucks his 'darling', it's not the prefect! It just coincidentally looks like her! The real prefect would never utter a single cuss, she has an image to uphold, but this doll right here? So utterly lewd! So bratty and potty mouthed. So vulgar! What a harlot! A horny harlot that's starved of cock! Jade's cock, a brat that gets trained into being an absolute shameless harlot, stripped off any form of dignity. Stripped off that elegant facade. So utterly dirty and below him.

For as long as those two don't work on their actual plans to get their hands on the real darling, they're left with the sad reality of cumming into lifeless caricatures of the real prefect. (They have zero rizz, they just keep fucking up their flirting attempts and opportunities.)

It would be even funnier if they read the doujins Idia makes. The MC is oddly familiar, can't think of who it resembles... Oh well, it gets the junk junkin!!!

I wanted a bit of a different trope for darling and the tweels! I hope it was good to read, Mera! I don't see a lot of Floyd pacifying darlings. (Maybe I haven't been looking in the right areas.) I just love a dynamic with Jade where he isn't as sleek with rude innuendos as he thought. Someone finally matched his passive aggressive freak!!

Always remember to prioritise yourself over content creation! It's quite easy to neglect the little things like hydration! It's been way too long since I last sent you an ask <3

Xoxo, Izuna.

꒰⁠⑅⁠ᵕ⁠༚⁠ᵕ⁠꒱⁠˖⁠♡

IZUNA...... IZUNA!!!!! GRABBING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS!!! AAAAAAA THIS IS SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST A GOOD READ. THIS WAS BRILLIANT AND SO DELICIOUS AND AN ENTIRE FIVE-STAR MEAL!!!!!

(๑﹏๑//) I'm eating so incredibly good with this omg,,,, the different interpretations of darling for each eel is so yummy. Aaaaa Floyd would absolutely have a thing for being called senpai,,, it just sounds so lovely coming from your mouth... Floyb with his cock-drunk and no-thoughts-in-head-other-than-cum doll and Jade with his brat of a doll who fights him until the very end when she's unraveling beneath him....... so good. orz orz orz

They're both such losers!!! T_T getting off with a doll while imagining it to be the real you even though the spell breaks when they're no longer horny,, >_< aaaaa so maidenless!

That line in the beginning of your ask regarding mushroom dildos... 👀 there are so many thoughts in my mind... Jade is a freak when it comes to his mushrooms!!! You just happen to be his favorite darling to test these things on. <3

[zenlosingit]

I feel like Shen Yuan when I debate with myself if getting a Luo Binghe body pillow is worth it or not

[critterbitter]

I'm wheezing over Ingo and Litwick's dynamic jgjbjjxjsjwkfiisiq and TYNAMO FITTING INTO EMMET'S SCARF IS SOOO CUTE!! Love how you draw the little sbubby bois, their conductor themed outfits are soo freaking cute!!!

I have so many thoughts when it comes to them it’s insane. Glad you like the characterizations!

Here’s a quick one shot under the cut, as a treat for making it this far.

Emmet finds Tynamo three months before Ingo meets Litwick. Ingo has some thoughts.

Ingo and Emmet are part of a pair.

If Emmet is the fuck around and find out, then Ingo’s been relegated amused damage control. This has always been the case, right up until Emmet found tynamo. Then suddenly, it’s “wow emmet, you’re so responsible!” “Golly gee Emmet, what do you mean you don’t want to go exploring the cave systems after dark?” “Gee whizz, what do you mean curfew for your eel puppy?” “Why in Reshiram do you get to have a whole pokemon three months before we agreed to get starters, and i don’t?”

Ingo doesn’t say the last part. He’s a bitter world-weary twelve year old languishing about the unfairness of the pokestray distribution system, but he also loves his brother. Emmet found an injured tynamo in chargestone cave and decided to help— tynamo decided to stay. It’s every child’s film plot. Ingo being a grouchy gengar makes him objectively a terrible friend.

Oh dragons, is Ingo a bad brother?

“Ingo!”

Speak of the cold, and he shall enter. Ingo swings his whole body around to better brace for the flying tackle.

“Emmet!”

“I am emmet! You are sulking.”

Ingo clicks his mouth closed and tries not to sulk harder. He fails.

“You are not being verrrry convincing, brother dearest.”

“I do not have any idea what you are going on about,” Ingo’s traitorous mouth blurts. “Be convinced I love you and am not planning dastardly plots.”

Do not think about getting a ground typed starter. Do not think about getting a ground typed starter.

Emmet shoots him a judgemental look from under the brim of his hat. Ingo glowers back, and slowly starts leaning forward, smooshing Emmet under his weight.

“Ttttell me why you look like a crushed joltik.”

“Keep this up and you are going to be the crushed joltik.”

Anyways, Emmet is becoming more bold by the day and even actively discussing electric types with the new girl in elementary prep, Elesa. Ingo thinks she’s cool, but she flinched when he blurted a once again too loud greeting so he’s… letting that cool off. They definitely don’t have anything to talk about beyond pokemon, and Emmet and her already have pokemon. Ingo feels a bit left out.

Caught in the ennui of not having a blitzle or tynamo, Ingo slips as Emmet rolls out from under him. The two go down in an ungraceful tangle of limbs.

“Tell. Me. What’s. Wrong.” Emmet gently slaps Ingo’s face like a ripe oran berry. “You want to tell me sooo badly. Ooh.”

“Emmet- aurgh. Gerroff’”

“I don’t speak denial.”

Ingo gives up. His entire body deflates. Emmet, not expecting the sudden loss of spinal infrastructure, slides sideways and knees Ingo’s lungs.

Ingo wheezes. “I’m sulking because you were crushing my spine.”

“Tell me the truth.”

Uh oh. Ingo studies Emmet’s face. It’s the same one he looks into the mirror with, but marred with concern and self consciousness. Ingo made Emmet worry. He’s not just a bad twin. He’s the worst.

“You are Emmet.”

“I am Emmet.”

“You have Tynamo.”

“Tynamo’s charging at home.”

Smart ass! Emmet knows what Ingo means. And by Emmet’s smug grin, Emmet knows too.

Ingo struggles to explain that Emmet has Tynamo, and Elesa, and… that’s only two other individuals. He is truly the worst twin in all the land. Emmet gets two new friends and Ingo’s being an infant about it.

One day, Ingo will have his own pokemon partner and team— but right now, Ingo only gets to have Emmet.

Ingo feels this is an unfair trade equivalent, but he does not want to say it in a way that sounds rude, so he stalls.

Emmet has no such prefunctures. He squints at Ingo, who avoids eye contact and squirms. “You are… jealous?” He tilts his head in visible confusion. “What?”

Ingo covers his face with his hands, defeated.

“You arrrre jealous!” Emmet cries, bewildered. “Why??”

Ingo lets out an unintelligible wheeze. Emmet remembers he still has a knee on Ingo’s chest, and hastily sits back.

“I don’t want to be jealous,” Ingo finally bursts. “I am very happy for you Emmet! You and Tynamo are a winning combination!” His voice cracks embarrassingly. Emmet doesn’t flinch at the volume, even muffled under Ingo’s palms. “I don’t want to be a bad brother being jealous.”

“You aren’t a bad brother, Ingo.”

“I am. I am angry that you found your starter and I haven’t. I’m sad I interrupted your schedule with my inane demands. I have made you feel like you did something wrong. I apologize.”

Peeking between Ingo’s fingers, Emmet’s face falls. Ingo wants to be struck by a giga impact rather than face this. He would rather be a dusty imprint. Where is Uncle Drayden’s Haxorous when you need her?

“Ingo, Ingo listen to me.” Emmet’s hands dart forward to settle Ingo’s shoulders. The pressure is grounding. Real. This is where Emmet tells Ingo he’s being stupid.

He hears Emmet exhale.

“I’m sorry.”

Wait, that doesn’t sound right. “Pardon?”

“I wanted to train Tynamo as my conductor, and I left our two-car train unmaintained.”

“Pardon??”

Emmet looks uncomfortable and sad. It makes Ingo uncomfortable and sad. “Yesterday night. When you wanted to go to the caves. For our weekly charting. I said I’d rather help Tynamo.”

Oh. Yeah, Ingo remembers that. It had stung. “You are not obligated to say yes,” he protests. “In fact, you should say no more. You always say yes.”

“Yes.”

“What did I just say.”

“No. You’re my brother. I left you out.”

Ingo slowly puts down his hands. His face still feels warm, but he feels less scared. Now he just feels embarrassed. He can’t help but let out a meek plea slip. “Don’t go where I can’t follow, Emmet. Please.”

“I would never! We are going on our pokemon journey together, yep yep. You, me, tynamo, and whoever your starter will be!”

The two sit there on the side of the dirt road. Emmet’s declaration sounds like a dangerous promise. Ingo realizes at that moment he would do anything for his brother, who’s his best friend and confidant and world, starter or no starter. He opens his mouth to tell Emmet that.

“Wwwwwait. You are trying to go back to the caves. Ingo! Are you trying to find a starter by yourself!?”

Never mind. Emmet’s gone for his soft underbelly, and Ingo’s in pain. “Emphasis on trying,” he mutters instead. The joltik are not interested in him. The local tynamo swarm fled. A curious drilbur had sniffed him once, turned up its nose, and then trundled into the wall.

“…ah.”

Nothing had felt right for Ingo— too scared, too judgemental, or too uninterested. He’s starting to accept that maybe none of the pokemon in this town area match his truth or ideals.

Emmet was quiet for a long time. He had his thinking face on, so Ingo did not interrupt. He took the time instead to look up at the sky, watching the giant puff of clouds drift by. A plume of swabloo lazily inches their way across the horizon.

A shadow falls over Ingo. Emmet dusts himself off, and helps drag his twin to his feet. The two sway, clasping hands.

“We’ll ask Uncle Drayden,” Emmet decides, and Ingo is enthralled by the sheer truth of that statement. “He’ll let us use the subway! And you can look elsewhere, for a starter who is ideal for you. Wwwwith me and Tynamo, instead of by yourself.”

“Truly?” Uncle Drayden is a scary man.

Emmet nods. It’s easy to talk to Emmet— he just says words that Ingo would spend hours ruminating on. “I am verrrry persuasive.”

“You mean staring at him from the corner until he cracks?”

“Brother, you know me so well!”

Ingo cant help but laugh. He still feels guilty and bad for feeling envious, but a world with emmet by his side is significantly less hostile. Emmet’s hand is warm in his.“Thank you!” He cheers, startling himself with his volume. “Bravo,” he tried in a quieter tone.

“Bravo!!” Emmet replies, pointedly louder. Ingo squawks as Emmet pulls him off balance. “You are my brother! We’re going to find you a starter!”

Ingo tugs back just as fiercely. “Bravo!! We are going to harass Uncle Drayden into letting us board the train!”

Emmet leans with his whole body, dragging Ingo into the fulcrum of his centrifuge. “BRAVO! YOU ARE GOING TO HELP ME WITH TYNAMO’S TRAINING!”

Ingo digs his heels in, and then stumbles. “BRAVO, I, what?”

Emmet looked distinctly patrat-esque. “We’re in this together, Ingo. No backing out now.”

Ingo thought about it long and hard. He gets to see his brother get electrocuted. But he will, also, most likely, get electrocuted.

(Tynamo is Emmet’s starter. But maybe, it can also be Ingo’s friend.)

But brother say brother do, and Ingo’s probably obligated to run damage control if Emmet decides to, say, shove a fork into an outlet for Tynamo to snack on.

(Emmet fucks around. Ingo finds out. Even two steps apart with new people between, this is the way of their world.)

“Alright,” he crumbles. When they step this time, they step in sync. “We do this. Together.” (Enjoy this? Here's the link to the rest of my rat crimes.)

[mypoisonedvine]

"I think we're on a first name basis by now." with tommy shelby

kinda went crazy with this one idk what happened lmao

warnings: dubcon smut (18+ only), dark!tommy, innocent/virgin reader, very rough sex, implied age gap, possessiveness, dom/sub dynamics, touch of misogyny kink, degradation, a little spanking

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

You only waited tables a few nights a week, just to make ends meet. You spent more time in the kitchen, actually, than you did in the part of the pub where the rowdy men would gather and drink and start trouble.

So, it was probably just your luck that whenever you were out there among them, Thomas Shelby was, too.

His eyes were always on you-- or it felt like that, sometimes. You looked at him, too: you couldn't help it, after all you'd heard. You couldn't really believe those things were true, that he was really that dangerous... he had kind eyes, you thought, and a nice smile. He looked strong, you couldn't deny that, nor could you deny the strange feelings you felt when his eyes drifted over your body while you wiped down tables and chairs. Your thighs seemed to press together each time he did that...

You almost hoped he wouldn't come tonight. As much as you had a growing interest in him, you always had this guilty feeling inside you after you got home on the nights you saw him. Maybe because, on some level, you knew what it was you felt when he looked at you.

No, he wasn't there when you arrived to the pub-- and you sighed with relief-- but your boss appeared rather suddenly when you stepped inside.

"Need you to go to the back room tonight," he told you firmly.

"Huh? Why?" you wondered.

"Just wait back there," he said simply, giving you no explanation, before walking away to deal with something else. Unsure what he could mean but not wanting to question it further, you went back through the kitchen to the back room of the pub.

It was small, and dark-- you flipped on the lamp, but it wasn't much to look at. A small couch, and a chair and desk, with various papers and letters strewn about. This was where the owner kept track of his records, managed shipments and costs-- probably where he kept track of your hours and compensation as well. You rocked back on your heels for a second before deciding to sit in the chair as you waited.

You couldn't say how long it was, probably only a few minutes, before the door opened and you stood up instinctively; you eyes widened when you saw who was stepping in with you.

"Oh, Mr. Shelby," you greeted nervously, "er-- what are you doing here?"

"I called ahead," he explained simply, shutting the door behind himself, "I told the owner that I wanted to see you."

You chewed your lip nervously. "Oh?"

"Yes," he nodded, approaching you but staying a healthy distance-- for now.

"Well... you can see me almost any night," you noticed.

"But I wanted to see you alone," he clarified.

"Does the boss mind? He must be working all the tables by himself," you wondered aloud.

"He'll be just fine," Tommy assured, "he's being compensated for his time."

Your stomach turned a bit when you realized Tommy had paid your boss to keep you back here for him. You knew then what he wanted, but you were still in denial about what was going to happen here.

He stepped up to you, almost too close, but you didn't have the bravery to take a step back.

He kissed you. It was far too sudden, far too forward-- but his hand slipped around the back of your neck and you felt entirely trapped. You did your best to kiss him back, but you weren't entirely sure how to do it well; you got the sense that things wouldn't turn out well for you if you disappointed him somehow. As he kissed you harder, his tongue slipping into your mouth, you whimpered and pushed him back by his shoulders.

It was an automatic response, but your heart pounded with nervousness as you looked up at him for his reaction: but he seemed oddly calm, not offended by your hesitance. "I-I'm sorry," you mumbled, "you just surprised me..."

"Didn't you want me to kiss you?" he asked.

And, well, that was sort of a complicated question. You had to admit, you'd imagined it before. But something about this felt wrong, even if you found yourself craving more. You'd never felt a heat between your legs quite like this one...

"You thought about more than that, didn't you?" he presumed with a raised brow, and you bit your lip and looked away.

"E-erm, well, I--" you stammered, but that was apparently answer enough for him.

He laughed a little, moving in even closer to you. "You're such a sweet girl," he cooed gently, running his hand along your waist as you shivered. "And pretty, too-- I know all the boys are lookin' at you. But you don't look at the boys, do you?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but failed completely when his fingers nimbly began to untie your apron.

"You just look at me," he continued, his voice getting a bit deeper as he finished.

"M-Mr. Shelby, I--" you started to weakly protest.

"I think we're on a first name basis by now," he said through a smirk.

"Tommy..." you mumbled shakily. "I've... I've never, erm, known a man before..."

He smiled even wider, the sharpness of his teeth seeming predatory. "Would you like to?" he asked, making your throat a little dry.

"W-well, I always thought I'd... I'd wait until I was married."

"Not all of us have that sort of patience," he explained, suddenly pulling your body flush against his and latching his lips onto your neck. You shuddered and whined, wrapping your arms around his neck since you weren't sure what else to do with them; whenever his tongue danced along your pulse, it sent a shock through your whole body and you whimpered with need.

You barely noticed he was guiding you back, not until he broke away and tossed you down onto the sofa suddenly, making you gasp.

You thought he would lay down on top of you, set himself between your legs-- but instead he roughly turned you around, shoving your face down into the old sofa at the same time that his other hand forced your hips up towards his.

You hadn't even had a chance to think-- he was already shoving your skirts up, yanking your undergarments out of the way, leaving you bare to the drafty air of the room. "T-Tommy, wait," you mumbled weakly, but he either didn't hear you or didn't care. He only growled lowly as he examined you; you both knew, then, how wet you'd become.

"Fuckin' dripping," he observed, seemingly to himself, though you heard him loud and clear as you shut your eyes tight.

He let go of your hips a second later and you heard him taking off his suspenders, but you couldn't look back at him with that other hand still tangled in your hair.

You heard him pushing his trousers down; you heard him spit into his hand and rub it over himself. You still couldn't quite process that this was all happening to you. What happened to that kind-looking man in the pub who would make your heart flutter by brushing his hand over yours? He didn't seem to have that sense of discretion now...

You gasped just from him pressing the tip up to your opening-- you couldn't even describe how you reacted when he actually shoved it in. (Yes, it took a real shove, because you were anything but prepared to take something inside you, let alone something like that.)

"O-oh, no-- oh, it hurts," you whimpered, wincing at the burning sting, holding on tighter to the cushion under you. "Tommy! Y-you're hurting me!"

"Shh, shh," he soothed sharply, groaning as he went deeper inside you, holding on tight to your waist again-- conveniently keeping your back from arching up the wrong way.

You let out a shuddering sigh and tried to relax when he slowed down. "I-is it done?" you asked nervously.

He laughed darkly. "No, sweetie, it's not even halfway in you."

He went a bit deeper again and you choked on a sob. "P-please, don't put in anymore," you begged.

"It only hurts at first," he assured, "then it feels good. It's what it's made for, love. What'd you think was supposed to go up there?"

He was joking, but it still made you feel dumb and shy, and your face heated up even more.

"I'll put the rest in now-- no cryin' this time, be good," he warned. Sliding deeper with one long stroke, until the tip of him reached so deep your stomach started to hurt, he let out a long sigh of satisfaction. "Fuck, nice and warm."

You were thankful he didn't start to move right away, because you were breathing heavy and fast like it was the greatest physical challenge of your life... it probably was, honestly. How could anything like that fit inside you? It felt like he was creating something entirely new inside you-- he certainly made you feel things you'd never felt before.

He started to move, slow and methodical at first, sighing as he savored the feeling of you. You shivered, toes curling in your shoes, trying to stay still and not tense up inside. It was hard to relax, though, in a situation like this... with a man like him.

Each thrust was a little faster than the last; he never quite set a reliable pace, just getting used to the feeling of you.

"So fuckin' tight," he praised deeply, digging his fingers harder into your skin. "The way this cunt grips me... she never wants me to leave, I bet."

He guided you to stay partially upright again, and you put your arms out under yourself to try to stay on your hands and knees. His fingers traced up your back through the dress, before holding onto your shoulder for leverage as he began to really fuck you. Hard. Still slow, but it seemed like he was only going that slow so he could put all his energy into each deep thrust.

You yelped with every slam forward, legs shaking constantly, the sound of his skin hitting yours making you feel a bit... filthy. All of this felt filthy. You felt cheap and disgusting and used. So why in God's name was it beginning to feel good?

He noticed the change right away; he couldn't have felt the difference that you did, the way the sharp pain melted into a pleasant, numbing stretch-- but he could hear it, your moans getting deeper and more confident and needier.

"See? Fuck, knew you were just a little whore," he growled in your ear as he leaned down over you, making you shut your eyes and moan lowly. "Knew you were a cockhungry little cunt like the rest of 'em. You can act innocent all you want, sweetie, but you wanted me to ruin you so badly..."

He was fucking you faster, a little more eagerly, trying to see how hard he could push you. You dropped your head limply but he put a hand on your forehead and pulled it back up, keeping you against his shoulder as he fucked you senseless.

"It's so fuckin' deep in you now, love," he growled. "Can't believe you made it this long without somebody breakin' in this cunt. And now it's mine, huh? Property of Tommy fuckin' Shelby."

You whined, losing the last bit of strength in your arms as your face fell down into the sofa's cushions again. He didn't seem to mind this time, taking a hold of your hips and staying upright as he set a brutal place of slamming thrusts into you. You cried some, but you weren't sure if it was from the pain or pleasure or shame or joy of it all.

"Nobody else s'gonna ever touch you," he promised roughly, delivering a harsh smack to your ass for no good reason except to make you jump. "Nobody else will ever get inside this pretty cunt but me."

You whined, but the way you clenched around him gave away how you really felt about the idea.

"You want me to own you, huh?" he noticed with a dark laugh. "You want to belong to me. Be my little whore, my dumb fucktoy--"

"Oh, Tommy," you whimpered, not sure if you loved or hated him talking like that. It made you feel a little awful, but you were so wet that it was running down your thighs now...

"You'll let me come and fuck you whenever I like," he decided-- or maybe he was explaining it all to you, the new rules of your life as his belonging. "You'll give me whatever I want. And you'll fuckin' thank me when I'm done."

You whined loudly.

"Yes?"

You tried to nod, but he grabbed your hair.

"Say it, whore," he demanded.

"Yes! Yes," you sobbed, "I'll be yours, Tommy."

"Good," he purred. "Hold on tighter to the cushion now, love-- I'm not gonna be gentle with ya anymore."

You hadn't realized that everything up until now was what he considered gentle... and your heart twisted with a sickly pleasurable fear of what was in store for you from now on.

[de4dlyniightshade]

꩜ LIFT YOUR EYES

꩜ pairing: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ rating: 18+, mdni!

꩜ word count: entirely too many. (9.3k;-;)

꩜ warnings/contains!: smut, virgin!spencer, sub!spencer, softdom!reader, loss of virginity, piv, handjob, mirror play(?), dacryphilia, slight body worship, pwp, unprotected piv(don't do that.), creampie, nervous spencer, marking, smidge of orgasm denial, praise, pet names, mention of and use of plan B, silly love confessions, no use of "y/n"!!, i think that's all

꩜ lyric: "lift those eyes, look into mine, cause i can guide you, i can guide you"

© to de4dlyniightshade. no translations/reposts!

[WARNING! - explicit sexual content! proceed at your own risk!]

꩜ A/N: this is proofread but i'm a moron and can't read so no promises🤷‍♀️ ALSO! be nice to me i haven't written a single thing in like a good few years</3

Spencer had been acting off ever since he had drunkenly revealed that he was still a virgin on one of your group nights out. Being a profiler had many benefits, and this was definitely one of them. He was more withdrawn from all of you, had been keeping to himself, and kept conversations to a minimum. He was pretty inconspicuous with the ways he did it, but you picked up on it immediately. You couldn't blame him; he had been backed into a corner by Derek and Garcia, pressing him for a sex story, but what they didn't expect was his answer to be that he didn't have any, with Spencer leaving shortly after, the whole atmosphere being unbearable for him.

You acted the same with him; of course, being a virgin was nothing to be ashamed of, and you didn't see him any differently; he was still Spencer, and honestly, it didn't surprise you; he certainly wasn't the type to sleep around or have one-night stands, and you were sure you would've heard of an ex-girlfriend by now, which you hadn't, not a single mention, so you put two and two together and just assumed the others would do the same, but unfortunately not.

If you were being entirely honest, the fact that Spencer was still a virgin only made you more attracted to him. You were already borderline infatuated with him, but this newfound information only heightened it. You didn't really know when your crush on him developed, but it developed rapidly, your small crush turning into an intense desire. You couldn't stop thinking about him, thinking about how easy he would be to render a babbling mess, how he would be so sensitive and reactive to every little touch, and how pretty he would sound moaning your name. You had to force yourself to shake your thoughts, trying to focus on what you were actually supposed to be doing, which was mundane work tasks, and it didn't help that Spencer somehow always ended up in your line of sight. 

You managed to push through the rest of the day without much more zoning out and you were packing up your things to go home for the night when Spencer approached you, stopping what you were doing to give him your attention. He seemed on edge, his body language was stiff, and he wouldn't look you in the eye. "Can I uh- , do you mind if I come over?" He spoke meekly, and honestly, if he'd been any quieter, he'd be whispering.

You just smiled, ignoring his strange behaviour, knowing there had to be a reasonable explanation that you'd soon find out. "Of course, what's the occasion?" You pulled your bag onto your shoulder, ready to leave with him without much question. You didn't want to turn him down considering the recent events, and you also just wouldn't. You loved hanging out with Spencer; he was a breath of fresh air, completely honest with you, and just great to be around.

"Oh uh no occasion, just haven't hung out in a while." He gave you that straight smile he did all the time, still avoiding your eyes for the most part. You hummed in response as you motioned for him to follow you, making your way to the elevator, Spencer following close behind, your joint footsteps echoing through the empty space, the two of you being some of the last people in the whole building, which was eerily quiet.

Spencer didn't say a word to you on the whole way down in the elevator or on the walk to your car, and still not a peep halfway through the car ride to your apartment, you decided to pry a little—not a lot, but just to see if he'd crack and spill whatever it was that was bothering him.

"what's up? You're an unusually quiet Spence." You took your eyes off the road very briefly to glance at him, seeing that he was in a world of his own, staring out of the window, your voice breaking whatever his train of thought was as he looked back at you with a dazed look on his face, taking a moment to process what you'd asked him.

"Nothing's up; why would something be up?" His tone wasn't defensive, like you were accusing him of something, which is yet another reason why you knew something was definitely up. There had never been a single time where someone had insinuated something was up with him and he didn't get defensive about it, but you just took his word; he clearly didn't want to talk about it, and you weren't going to force him to yet.

"No reason, Spence, just thought I'd ask." You flashed him a sweet smile, and he nodded, going back to completely ignoring your presence. Something was seriously going on with him; you just needed to figure out what it was. Honestly, it was eating you alive the whole way to your apartment. He had never been silent for such a long period of time in the entire time you'd known him, and it was unsettling.

Once you reached your apartment, you unlocked the door and shuffled in, switching on a light before locking your door behind you just to be safe. You hung your bag on your coatrack and shrugged off your jacket, Spencer doing the same, both of you removing your shoes in unison before you turned and made your way to your sofa. "Wanna watch a movie?" you asked as you plopped down on your designated corner of the couch, looking over at him and awaiting his response.

"Yeah, sure," Spencer smiled. Following suit to your sofa and sitting at the opposite end, you furrowed your brows at his choice of seat. He always sat in the middle when he was here. Always. As if all the other unusual behaviour wasn't evidence enough that something was going on with him. This certainly topped it off, which prompted you to begin your interrogation, ready to present your extensive evidence.

"Alright, Reid, out with it. What's going on with you?" You turned to face him, your elbow resting on the back of the sofa as you stared him down.

"Nothing's going on with me? What makes you think that there is?" His tone was defensive this time, but not in an aggressive way; more in an accused way. His sudden change from in the car only further proved your point.

"You've been nothing but weird since you came up to me; you were completely silent the whole way here, and when I asked in the car what was up, you weren't defensive, which you've never done before; you hate when people insinuate something is wrong; you also haven't looked me in the eye this whole time; and finally, you're sitting on the opposite end of the couch." You finished your rundown by flashing a smile at him and raising a brow. You knew he couldn't deny any of it because you knew he knew you were right. It was your job, after all.

"Alright, fine, you got me, but it's nothing, really." Spencer finally met your eyes, his expression unconvincing. It wasn't nothing, and you knew it, but you just couldn't work out what it was on your own. You were good, but not that good.

"stop lying! I know it's not nothing, Spence. C'mon you can tell me. Promise nothing you can say will phase me."You shuffled closer to him as you spoke, now sitting in his spot in the middle. The sudden closeness of your body to his putting him under pressure.

"I don't know how to say it," he said softly, eyes fixed on his lap as he fidgeted nervously. His behaviour only made you more desperate to hear what it was. You'd never seen him so nervous before, so you knew it had to be good whatever it was, and you knew he had to get it off his chest asap. You also didn't think you could handle him being so quiet for a minute longer.

"Ugh, c'mon, just spill it; the anticipation is killing me," you giggled, trying to make him feel at least a little more at ease so he'd just get it out already. Spencer sighed, mentally preparing himself as he mustered up the courage to say what he was thinking.

"Okay, alright, you can absolutely say no, and we'll never talk about this again. It's completely your choice, of course. I would never try to force you to do something you didn't want to do, y'know. I completely understand if you say no; I won't take it personally. I just thought I'd ask just in ca-" You cut off his rambling with a loud groan, reaching out to hold his face with your hands and forcing him to look at you.

"stop rambling. say it. right now, Spencer Reid." You both sat in silence for a moment before he took a deep breath, closing his eyes before he finally said it. His words rendered you completely speechless as it all made sense; no wonder he was a nervous wreck.

"Will you have sex with me?"

The words bounced around in your head like a ping pong ball, repeating over and over and over again as you just continued staring at him. He cracked his eyes open to see the dumbfounded expression on your face, immediately regretting ever considering asking as he moved to get up.

"I uh- forget it, I'm just gonna go," he said, making a beeline for your door as you continued to sit in silence, watching him grab his jacket before you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a deep breath.

"I will," you said, opening your eyes again to see him completely still, back to you, so you couldn't see his face. The only reason you hesitated was because you weren't entirely sure that you were awake. You'd been daydreaming about a situation just like this one only hours prior, and when you realised that this was actually happening and Spencer Reid was actually asking if you'd have sex with him, you knew you couldn't turn him down; you'd be a fool to.

"you will?" Spencer finally turned to face you, his doe-eyes meeting yours. You smiled at his sweet expression; he looked almost excited, and you nodded. "Course I will, c'mere," you said nonchalantly as you patted the spot next to you, and he nervously padded back over, sitting next to you before you reached out to tuck his hair behind his ear, his eyes meeting yours again.

"Is this about the other night?" You kind of already knew it was, and you weren't going to take it personally if the only reason he was asking was so he wouldn't be a virgin anymore. It flattered you honestly, the fact he wanted it to be you, that he felt comfortable enough to ask you and allow you to take his virginity.

Spencer sighed, "Yeah, I mean- not entirely, partly—I just don't want to have to tell another person that I'm still a virgin, but I do think you're pretty, of course! I'm not just using you," you let him ramble, knowing he felt the need to explain himself most of the time. You couldn't help but smile at his behaviour; he was always so put together and professional, and now he was completely erratic and hardly making any sense.

"You think I'm pretty?" You teased, pulling your lip between your teeth. Spencer then realised what he'd said; unable to backtrack, he opted for scrambling to explain, "I-I mean, yeah, you're stereotypically attractive; most of the population would be objectively attracted to you just based on a visual first impression." You couldn't help but laugh at his flustered state, moving to run your hand through his hair, the physical affection making him relax slightly.

"Can I kiss you, Spence?" You mused, your fingertips stroking the hair behind his ear. You already knew the answer to your question, but you wanted him to tell you that you could, that he wanted you to, you wanted his consent through the whole experience, making sure that he knew he could tell you if there was something he didn't like or if he'd changed his mind.

Spencer let out a shaky breath, hesitating for a beat before replying. "Please," he practically whined, his voice airy, and you felt the air shift. A whole different atmosphere filled the room as you gently moved your hand to his cheek, turning his face to you. You smiled, just staring into his eyes for a moment before you slowly leaned in, placing an experimental kiss on his lips, and he immediately returned it, which was then followed by another and another before your gentle kisses became open-mouthed, sensual making out, your lips slotting perfectly into his as he tentatively placed his hand on your waist while you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing your body to his, your actions causing him to moan quietly into your mouth. The sound was sweet, like music to your ears, and you wanted more.

You tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck lightly, eliciting another moan from him, the pretty sound vibrating against your lips before you ran your tongue across his plush bottom lip, and he immediately knew what you wanted, opening his mouth to allow you to slip your tongue in, the feeling of your warm tongue exploring his mouth making him let out a whimper as he allowed you to completely dominate him, the sound awakening something in you as you moaned into his mouth before you broke the kiss, a string of saliva connecting your lips, you quickly manoeuvred to straddle his lap, your skirt riding up your thighs, mere inches from exposing your underwear.

You began pressing open-mouthed kisses down Spencer's jaw and neck before you were stopped by the collar of his shirt. You pulled away, moving to take ahold of his tie before you hesitated, looking up at him. "Can I?" you asked, almost desperately. Spencer looked back at you, already with a lustful expression on his face, his lips swollen and red, his hair dishevelled, and his cheeks flushed pink.

He nodded eagerly as you still held his tie in your hand. "Ah, ah, words, honey." Honestly, you didn't need him to say it, but you definitely wanted him to. The idea of him having to outright tell you what he wanted or what you could do to him made your stomach flip.

"Y-yes," you saw his Adam's apple bob as he gulped, a sly smile spreading across your lips as you leaned in to place a few stray kisses on his neck, stopping just below his ear. "Good boy," your voice was sultry and teasing as you loosened his tie, his breath hitched at your words, eyes closed as he let you do whatever you pleased.

You discarded his tie on the floor, moving to unbutton his shirt, kissing lower and lower with each button before kissing your way back up to his collarbones as you started kitten licking at his skin, hesitating before biting down—not too hard, of course, as not to startle him too much. Spencer gasped at the feeling, a whimper following after. His pretty sounds were so much better when they weren't muffled, and you had to resist the urge to just unzip his pants and pull your underwear to the side then and there.

"You sound so pretty, baby." You spoke into his skin, flicking your tongue out to lick his neck, your words making him whine. "P-please," he mewled. His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he pleaded with you to do something, anything.

"Please, what, baby? Tell me what you want." You placed a few kisses on his cheek before pulling away, your hands resting on either side of his neck and your thumb stroking his skin. He was a nervous wreck, muscles tense and eyes darting around the room, looking anywhere but your eyes. You let out an airy laugh while he gulped, trying to muster up the courage to tell you what he wanted. He was adorable, and it made you want to croon at him and take care of him, doing whatever you pleased without him having a say, but you knew you couldn't. This was about him, and you wanted his first time to be memorable in a good way.

"Aw, baby, it's okay; just relax; tell me what you want; I won't say no; this is about you and making you feel good, okay?" Your tone was soft and almost motherly as you caressed his cheek, trying to ease his nerves as best you could. Spencer looked at you with puppy eyes, his lips slightly pouting as he took a shaky breath, trying to force himself to relax.

"T-touch me, please." He whined, eyes still fixed on yours; you could've melted right there. The sight of his pleading eyes, swollen lips, messy hair, flushed cheeks, and bare torso beneath was enough to make you let out a muffled moan, surging forward to lock your lips with his in a desperate kiss, Spencer returning it with equal desperation.

You trailed your hands down his body, stopping to stroke his slim waist. His skin was hot to the touch and silky smooth, and the sensation of your hands caressing his skin made him whine into your mouth. You let your hand trail lower, stopping at the clear bulge in his pants. Your touch was feather light, teasing just a little to hear him whine again. You pulled away, watching him chase your lips before you fully palmed him over his clothes. The sudden stimulation made him gasp, jutting his hips upward into your hand for more.

"God, you're so fucking pretty, you know that Spence?" You rasped out, continuing to tease him, knowing that the material separating your touch from where he wanted you would get him hot and bothered. Your words made him whine and mumble something inaudible; your curiosity piqued.

"hm? What'd you say, baby?" You spoke softly, continuing to palm Spencer over his pants. His head was tipped back, resting on the back of your couch, his eyes closed and lips parted as he let out laboured breaths.

"I'm not," Spencer's words made you stop dead, the loss of stimulation making him open his eyes to look at you, only to find you already glaring at him, "What did you just say?" Your tone was stern, and eye contact was unfaltering as Spencer began to sweat under the pressure of your eyes and demanding tone.

"I'm not pretty," he murmured, shrinking in on himself and averting your gaze. You took his chin between your fingers and tilted his head to face you again. "Don't you ever say that to me again, Spencer," you ordered, watching him swallow thickly at your sudden change in demeanour.

"W-why?" he asked meekly, a doe-eyed, innocent expression on his face. You raked your hand through his hair, leaving a silence in the room before you answered his stupid question.

"Because, Spencer, you are pretty. Let me show you." You stood up from his lap as you spoke, Spencer gaping up at you with a confused expression on his features. His confusion was quickly squashed when you extended your hand to him, placing his hand in yours without question and standing up from your sofa, allowing you to lead him through your apartment to your bedroom. Once there, you kicked the door closed behind you before trailing Spencer to the side of your bed, pushing his shoulders down for him to sit on the edge before you switched on your lamp.

You moved to press a kiss to his lips, which didn't last nearly long enough for him, making him whine as you pulled away. You just smirked, moving to the side to get onto the bed with him, revealing the mirror directly in front of him, and he was about to ask why when you moved to kneel behind him, your hands smoothing up his back and stopping at his shoulders. You placed a kiss on his covered skin before you took his shirt in your fingertips, sliding it off of him, gently kissing his exposed skin as you did. Spencer assisted you in removing it before you balled the material up and discarded it on your floor.

You continued to kiss his soft skin, kitten licking and nibbling as you went, stopping at the junction at the base of his neck, looking up through your lashes to make eye contact with him in the mirror as you marked his skin, suckling and biting harshly, the sensation of your hot mouth on him making him whimper, feeling you smile against his skin as he did.

Once you were satisfied with marking his neck and shoulder, you shifted back, spreading your legs. Spencer whined at the loss of your body heat before you tugged him back into your chest, his head against your shoulder. Spencer watched you trail your hand down his body through the mirror, stopping at his waistband and bringing your other hand around his waist, starting to slowly and teasingly unbuckle his belt. Spencer swallowed in anticipation, his breathing picking up as you unbuttoned and unzipped his pants.

You trailed your fingertip over the outline of his hard length over his boxers, watching his brows snap together as his eyes fell closed, his mouth dropping open, a moan falling from his lips, the thin material of his underwear making the feeling much stronger than before. His reactions only egged you on, fully palming him and beginning to stroke him through the material.

"A-ah-p-please" Spencer mewled, reaching back to grip your thigh. You smiled, leaning your head into his, Spencer opening his eyes to see what you were doing. His eyes glazed as they connected with yours in the mirror.

"Don't look at me, look at you," you whispered into his ear. Spencer followed your direction, his eyes gazing at his own reflection. The sight was so foreign to him; he'd never seen himself like this; it made him feel vulnerable and shy, a blush blooming on his skin.

"Good boy, now lift your hips for me, honey," you breathed, hooking your thumbs into the elastic of his waistband. Spencer swallowed, letting out a shaky breath before he complied, raising his hips enough to allow you to tug his underwear and pants down to his mid-thighs, his cock springing free and hitting his pelvis. The sight made you pull your lips between your teeth, Spencer sucking in a breath and screwing his eyes closed at the cold air hitting his hot, sensitive skin.

"God spence, look at you, so fucking pretty, even got a pretty cock," you rasped in his ear, your lewd words making him gasp and blush a deep pink. You pressed a kiss to his cheek as he cracked his eyes open, watching you run your hands up and down his sides, the sensation tickling slightly, making him squirm against you.

"Can I touch you, baby?" You asked the question as if you didn't already know the answer; it was obvious, of course, but you still wanted to hear him say it. The question made Spencer roll his hips into nothing, subconsciously nuzzling his head into yours.

"Y-yes, please," he breathed, his eyes still fixed on his own reflection, watching as your hand trailed lower, painfully close to where he needed you, but you stopped just before your hand reached his length, drawing figure eights into the smooth skin of his pelvis. Spencer whined at your teasing, jerking his hips into your touch, urging you to touch him where he needed you, but you wouldn't; instead, you just let out a breathy laugh in his ear.

"I'll give you what you want if you do one thing for me, baby, just one. Can you do that?" Your voice was silky smooth, your light touch still on his skin, and Spencer nodded eagerly, "Yes!, yeah, anything! I'll do anything!" His voice was needy and whiny as he spoke, his head tipping back onto your shoulder as his eyes fluttered closed.

"Look at yourself and tell me you're a pretty boy," you said into his ear, your lips grazing his skin as you did. A smirk spread across your face when you heard his breath hitch in his throat, eyes opening to see you already looking at him, waiting patiently.

Spencer locked his eyes on himself, breathing deeply as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, his skin heating up, a pink tint spreading from his cheeks all the way down to his chest. You could see the hesitation in his eyes. You were inching your hand just slightly closer to remind him of his reward, mumbling "go on" under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I-I'm a p-pretty boy," Spencer stammered, his voice cracking and shaky as he spoke, instantly tearing his eyes away from his reflection, blushing impossibly harder, and his cheeks turning cherry red. You smiled wide, kissing his hot cheek. "That's my good boy, my pretty boy," you praised, finally taking his length into your hand. Spencer immediately let out a breath that formed into a whimper, relaxing against your body as you slowly dragged your hand up his shaft. Spencer let out a moan at the slightest stimulation, making you wonder what he'd sound like when you picked up the pace and stopped teasing.

You soon found out when you began languidly stroking his cock, not too fast but definitely not as painfully slow as you had been so far. Spencer was twitching in your arms, his hips stuttering into your touch while he let out strangled moans of pure pleasure. The whole experience was completely new to him; he'd never felt this good before, and it was going to his head, making him babble incoherently.

"Feel good, pretty boy?" You mused, your thumb rubbing his slit, and Spencer's hand flying to grip yours that rested on his hip, squeezing hard as he shuddered and whined, his back arching slightly. "S-so good, feel so g-good, d-don't stop, p-please don't s-stop," Spencer's voice sounded teary as he rambled, your hand continuing to stroke his length and your pace fastening slightly, drawing more of his sweet sounds from him.

"I wasn't planning on stopping, baby, don't you worry, I wanna see you cum," you finished your sentence by circling your palm over his tip, the action pulling a choked sob from him as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to spill over any second. Your eyes were fixated on his reflection, mesmerised by the way his body writhed against you, his hips rutting gently into your hand and his mouth agape as his head rested on your shoulder, the close proximity of your faces having him practically moaning in your ear.

"O-oh, my god! f-fuck" Spencer moaned loudly, his hips rutting into your hand more harshly as tears spilled down his pink cheeks, quiet gasps falling from his lips. You could feel the dampness pooling in your underwear as you watched Spencer fall apart in your arms. He looked irresistible as he gripped your bedsheets with one hand and your hand in the other. His entire body was shaking and twitching as he got closer and closer to cumming.

"I-I-think I-" Spencer could hardly form a sentence, at least every second word being interrupted by whimpers and sobs. You hushed him, understanding exactly what he was trying to say and opting to stroke him faster, tightening your hold just slightly. The change made Spencer arch his back into your touch, a choked moan filling the room, his hips uncontrollably rolling into your hand as he chased his release.

"F-fuck, I'm gonna c-cum, please p-please d-don't stop, s-so close." His voice was high-pitched and whiny as he lost control, his body spasming as he let out choked sobs. When you felt his cock twitch in your hand, you stopped at the base and squeezed tightly, preventing him from cumming. The sudden denial and loss made him cry out, and a non-stop stream of tears ran down his face and neck. He became a babbling mess, unable to form a sentence, just begging over and over again for you to let him cum.

"Shh, baby, shh, I'm going to let you cum Don't worry, baby, just do something for me, okay?" You slipped your hand from his to smooth his hair off his forehead, the sweat that had gathered making it stick to his skin. Spencer opened his eyes, his lip quivering and his waterline still teary. "p-please please, a-anything! j-just p-please l-let m-me, n-need it so b-bad," Spencer sobbed. The sound broke your heart, hearing your pretty baby so distressed.

"Watch yourself cum for me, baby." Your voice was low as you spoke in his ear, your hand absentmindedly stroking his hair, unknowingly soothing him slightly. Spencer nodded erratically, shifting in your hold as his gaze fixed on himself, his heart hammering in his chest. The anticipation of finally getting his release made his whole body start short-circuiting.

"Such a good boy for me, baby," you praised, releasing your hold on his shaft and drawing back to your steady pace. The abrupt stimulation had Spencer moaning almost pornographically, and the sound was music to your ears, knowing you were the only person to have ever made him sound and feel this way, only making it so much more exhilarating.

Spencer's breathing became exasperated as he tried to say something, his voice failing him completely, but you knew what he was trying to say, his cock twitching in your hand, giving it away. Spencer's eyes were trained on his reflection—something so sinfully mesmerising about watching himself and seeing himself this way—not many people have the chance to see themselves so vulnerable.

"P-please, c-can I?" Spencer mewled. You think if you said no, he might've broken down right then and would never forgive you. You weren't going to, of course. You wanted this as much as he did, and as soon as you whispered those three golden words, it was all over.

"Cum for me."

Spencer cried out as he came, his eyes rolling back into his head. His orgasm hit him harder than it ever had before, his mind going completely blank. cum painted his abdomen and your hand in spurts, the thick white liquid coating his skin as you milked him of every drop, working him through his orgasm. You only stopped when he let out a whine of protest at the overstimulation and tried to squirm away from you.

"So proud of you, baby; you did so so well, my good boy," you said sweetly as you wrapped your arms around him, hugging him close to you while nuzzling your head into his and pressing gentle kisses to his hair.

You sat in silence while Spencer came down from his high, allowing him time to get his breath back. The sound was the only thing filling the room. You placed a chaste kiss on his shoulder before you spoke, "You know we don't have to have sex tonight if you don't feel up to it, baby; we can just cuddle; I won't mind." Your chin rested on his shoulder, eyes closed, while Spencer peeled his open, turning his head to look at you fully instead of through the mirror.

"No, I want to; I wanna at least try to return the favour." His voice was raspy as he spoke, all the noise he'd been making taking a small toll. You tucked a stray strand of hair behind his ear, the same strand that seemed to be perpetually out of place, your expression softening at his words, "Spence, you don't have to return any favors; I told you at the beginning that this was about you, not me." You knew Spencer was persistent and wasn't going to give in easily, or even at all, but at least you offered.

"I want to, for you...and for me," Spencer averted your eyes, shy at admitting wanting this for his own trivial needs. His conformation that he did in fact want this and he wasn't just doing it for you because he felt guilty was convincing enough for you as you pressed a kiss to his lips. The sudden action caught him slightly off guard, but he quickly recovered, kissing you back with fervour, the anticipation of what was coming making him borderline intoxicated.

You broke this kiss, tugging Spencer's bottom lip with your teeth as you did, the action making him whine and chase your lips, desperate for more, but you just giggled, pulling away from him completely as you shifted up the bed, his eyes fixed on you as you moved to begin slowly unbuttoning your shirt. Your pace was painfully slow, giving him a bit of a striptease, the way he licked his lips and scanned every inch of skin that was revealed only egging you on further.

Once you popped the last button open, you slipped the material off your body, throwing it on the floor alongside his shirt. The sight of your chest, although covered by your bra, had the blood rushing straight to Spencer's cock, his eyes too busy on your boobs to notice you clearly staring at him until you spoke.

"Wanna touch them?" It could've just as well been a rhetorical question, with the answer already blatantly obvious. Spencer nodded eagerly; his keenness was endearing, and it had you squeezing your thighs together and biting down your lip.

You furrowed your brows when Spencer sat unmoving until you realised what he was waiting for; "C'mere then, baby" Your go ahead had him closing the space between you at light speed, and your eyes trailed down to see him fully hard again. It was a lewd sight, his pants pulled down just enough to free his length, his stomach still covered with his release, and his neck, shoulder, and collarbones lined with dark red and purple bruises.

Spencer noticed your staring and whined in embarrassment, feeling exposed while you were still mostly covered. You couldn't help but chuckle lightly. "You want me to take my skirt off? Will that make you feel better, baby?" Your voice dripped with honey, and the premise of seeing you in just your bra and underwear made Spencer's brain turn to mush.

"Y-yeah, please," he rasped, his eyes scanning your body from top to bottom, watching as you moved to kneel and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pushing it down to your thighs before you leaned back on your elbows, your eyes connecting with Spencer's as you concealed a smirk.

"Help me take it off, pretty boy." You fake pouted and fluttered your lashes. Spencer's breath hitched in his throat, letting out a shaky breath before leaning over you, taking your skirt in his hands and slowly slipping it down and off your legs, dropping it on the floor before his eyes trailed back up to your covered crotch, attempting to swallow the lump in his throat at the sight.

"Fuck c'mere pretty boy," you leaned up onto your hand, placing the other on the side of his face and surging forward, pressing your lips to his with fervour. The kiss was sloppy and desperate as you pulled Spencer down to lay on top of you, taking his hand in yours and guiding it to your chest. He moaned into your mouth at the feeling of your soft breast in his hand, starting to knead and massage gently.

"Can I- can I take it off? please?" Spencer breathed, breaking the kiss, his hair falling around his face as he looked down at you. You bit down on your lip and nodded, arching your back off the sheets to allow his hands to slip around your body, fumbling with the clasps for a moment before they clicked open, your bra going slack on your chest. You weren't even surprised that he was also good at that.

Spencer let out a breath, watching you take the straps in your fingers and slowly pull them down your arms, finally revealing your bare breasts to him, his mouth gaping at the sight, seeing your nipples harden in the cold air, perking up and practically begging for him to suck on them, so he did, taking you by surprise when he leaned down, taking your nipple into his mouth without hesitation, wasting no time with testing the waters.

"Oh, fuck baby," you mewled, placing your hand on the back of his head and running your hand through his hair as he continued to suckle on your hardened nipple, letting out muffled moans into the soft flesh while he kneaded the other. You arched your back, pushing your chest into his face as he turned his attention to the other nipple, giving equal attention to both while you let out sighs of pleasure, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Spencer released your nipple once he was satisfied before burying his face in the crook of your neck, the movement causing his cock to press into your thigh, whimpering into your skin at the feeling. "Take your pants off, baby," you rasped in his ear, kissing his hair. Spencer immediately complied, pulling away and standing up from your bed before tugging his pants and underwear down his legs and stepping out of them, leaving them crumpled on the floor.

When Spencer turned around to climb back onto the bed, he was met with you completely naked, holding your underwear out to him on your foot, your lip pulled between your teeth. You giggled at his reaction, knowing that he'd be completely awestruck, not expecting you to be bare in front of him.

"Keep 'em if you like," you said teasingly, a sly smile on your lips as Spencer took the garment, dropping it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes and watching as you slowly spread your legs, completely exposing yourself to him, watching as his mouth dropped open at the view of your glistening pussy, feeling a little boost to his ego knowing that he was the reason you were wet.

"Are you going to come and fuck me or not, pretty boy?" You purred, watching him quickly climb back onto your bed, moving to be leaning over you again.

You could hear his heavy breaths, his body tense, nerves wracking his body under the pressure. You tucked his hair behind his ear once again, smiling sweetly at him. "Don't be nervous, baby; I'll tell you if you're hurting me or doing something wrong." Your words eased him slightly as he shifted closer, kneeling between your thighs, his eyes scanning your body from your face to your chest down to your waiting entrance.

Spencer didn't notice his breathing getting out of control again until you sprung up, taking his face into your hands, a worried expression on your face. "Hey, hey, breathe, baby, just breathe. You're okay. What's going on?" You tried to calm his breathing before it became a panic attack. Your soft touch and gentle words worked enough for him to talk to you. "I-i c-can't-" Spencer stuttered, avoiding your eyes and trying to pull away, but you just secured your arms around his neck, keeping him close.

"Yes, you can Spence; if you don't want to, that's completely different, but if you're just worried about doing it wrong, then you're not going anywhere." Your words made Spencer lift his gaze to your eyes, scanning your expression to see that you were completely sincere. He hesitated for a moment before leaning in to kiss you, initiating it for the first time. His kiss was gentle and slow, and you returned the same treatment, slowing the pace down to his comfort zone before you went any further.

You were the first to break the kiss for air, both your chests heaving and Spencer's nerves seeming to have subsided. You pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his lips before looking up at him, his eyes already fixed on yours. "You ready, baby?" You smiled, your hand resting on the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I am now." With that, you lay back again, watching Spencer smooth his hands down your inner thighs, urging your legs to open wider before wrapping them around and tugging you closer to him with no effort. The action made you gasp, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

Spencer placed a hand on your hip before his head snapped up to look at you. "I don't have any protection, do you?" He had a slightly panicked expression, and you just laughed, realising that you, in fact, didn't. "Just pull and pray," you said it so nonchalantly as if it weren't completely irresponsible and unreliable.

"But that doesn't prevent you from getting pregnant, and it's stupid, are you sure? I could go to the st-" You cut him off with a loud groan, glaring up at him. "Spencer, I swear to God, please just fuck me." You weren't usually so forward, but right now you were borderline sexually frustrated with how much he was putting it off.

Spencer gulped, nodding as you sighed in relief, watching as he moved to stroke his length a few times, taking a deep breath before leaning over you, pushing his hips forward enough for his tip to meet your entrance. You gasped at the contact, rolling your hips up and causing his length to dip into your cunt. Spencer immediately pushed further in at the feeling, his jaw falling slack as your walls started surrounding him, wet and warm and perfect, his hips subconsciously rutting forward into you.

"F-fuck s-sorry," Spencer apologised, stopping his movements to make sure he hadn't hurt you. You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until he was bottomed out. A strangled moan ripped from his throat at the feeling of your soft walls wrapped around him. "O-oh, my god," Spencer breathed, his eyes screwed shut as he tried not to move, knowing that he had to wait and let you adjust to the stretch, which you were thankful for because it definitely was a stretch, making sure to mask the pain so he wouldn't worry. You lay quietly while Spencer let out laboured breaths, the hot air fanning your skin as his head rested on your chest.

Instead of telling him he could move You rolled your hips upward, Spencer moaning into your skin as you did, pulling out slightly before pushing back in, both of you moaning in unison. Spencer lifted his head from your chest and looked up at you, silently asking for reassurance. "Keep doing that, baby; that's good," you breathed, slinging your arms around his neck.

Spencer took your waist into his hands, continuing to roll his hips into yours at a steady pace, but you could tell he was holding back, trying so hard to be gentle and slow for you. It was endearing, of course, but you needed more. "F-faster, please" you moaned out, encouraging him to just give in and fuck you how he wanted to, how you needed him to.

He fastened his pace at your plea, his hips snapping into yours as he dropped his head to the crook of your neck, moaning desperately into your skin. "F-fuck! S-so good, pretty boy," you gasped, gripping his shoulders harshly, your nails leaving crescent moons in his skin. Spencer didn't even notice the stinging; the feeling of your pussy clenching around him overwhelming his senses as he moaned and whimpered into your neck.

"O-oh god, s-so warm," Spencer whined, gripping your waist tighter as he rutted his cock into you harder, his tip brushing that perfect spot inside you, the feeling making you gasp, nails running down his back, leaving red streaks across his skin. "R-right there! F-fuck Spencer, don't stop!" you moaned wantonly, back arching off the sheets as the sound of skin against skin filled the room.

Spencer's movements were slightly clumsy and out of rhythm, but the way he filled you and moaned your name made up for it completely. You felt his hips begin to stutter slightly, knowing that he wasn't going to last much longer; it didn't bother you at all. Your expectations for how long a virgin would last weren't exactly high; you didn't even expect to finish, but when Spencer moved his hand from your waist down to tentatively rub circles on your clit, you felt a familiar knot forming.

"Fuck, baby, that's it!" You moaned loudly, Spencer's fingers working faster at your praise, reassuring him that he was doing good. You felt tears prick your eyes, the sensation of Spencer's cock dragging against your sensitive walls and his fingers rubbing tight circles on your clit making your mind go numb, clinging to him as you ground your hips up to meet his thrusts, the head of his cock brushing your g-spot over and over again.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum," Spencer warned, voice strained and whiny as his pace faltered, thrusts getting sloppy as he neared his second orgasm. "m-me too baby just a l-little more," you whined, head thrown back against your pillows as a few stray tears escaped your eyes, thighs beginning to shake against his waist, your legs still secured around him.

It didn't take much longer for you to feel Spencer's cock twitch inside you, your walls fluttering around him as you felt your orgasm dangerously close. Spencer was suddenly trying to pull away to release on your stomach, your legs instinctively constricting him harder, desperate for your own release. "I-I c-can't hold i-it; you need to l-let me-" You could hear how much he was straining in his voice, desperately trying not to cum, but your mind only had one train of thought, and that was your own release.

"I-inside! p-please just c-cum inside!" You begged, Spencer's eyes blowing wide at your words, his cock twitching at the implication of filling you with his cum, and honestly, it seemed like his only option. Your thighs clenched around his waist and hands holding him with a vice-like grip, so he gave in, hands moving to hold your hips as he let himself thrust into your warmth, both of you moaning in tandem.

Spencer gave a few more sloppy thrusts before he choked out a moan, eyes squeezing shut and head tipping back as he released into you, burying his cock as deep as it would go, cum painting your walls in spurts, the feeling of the warm liquid filling you to the brim had to toppling over the edge, your back arching as you clenched around his length, a mix of his and your cum spilling out around his cock as he gently rocked his hips into you, riding out both your highs.

Spencer let himself collapse on top of you, his arms wrapping around you as he nuzzled his head into your chest, which was rising and falling quickly with your heavy breaths. You both lay in silence as you caught your breath, only remembering that you had to get up and clean yourselves when Spencer moved slightly, feeling more of his cum seep out of you.

"You should go pee." Spencer's voice was muffled as he spoke into your chest. You laughed lightly at the fact that he knew that. I mean he of all people would know that women had to pee after sex. "Well, get out then," you joked, Spencer cringing at your choice of words but complying, lifting himself off of you and slowly pulling out his softening length, both of you sucking in a breath at the feeling.

Spencer insisted on cleaning you up, taking care to be gentle and careful as he did, knowing you would still be sensitive before he all but forced you to pee, going on a tangent about UTI's and the statistics of how many women get them after not peeing after sex, and shoving him out of the bathroom. You finally got some peace to actually use the bathroom without him making you paranoid about your vagina falling off or something.

"alright! i pissed! happy now?" You walked back into your bedroom to find Spencer digging around in your closet in just his underwear, your bedsheets strewn on your floor. "Yes, very, where are your spare sheets?" he asked, turning to face you. You just stood in silence for a moment before you smiled, padding over to him, suddenly full of emotion as you wrapped your arms around his waist, burying your head into his bare chest. Spencer was surprised at your sudden affection but returned your hug, resting his chin atop your head and enveloping you in his arms, his larger body completely engulfing yours.

"What was that for?" Spencer asked when you pulled away, and you just looked at him with your eyebrows furrowed. "We just had sex, and you're asking why I hugged you? Got your priorities  straight, I see Dr. Reid," you jokingly rolled your eyes, feigning being mad at him. Spencer had learned how to differentiate when you were joking and serious pretty early in your friendship, so he just laughed at you, shaking his head but still curious as to why you decided to hug him.

You brought out your spare sheets from the closet, looking at Spencer with a look on your face that said everything: "I swear I looked there." He tried to reason, but you just scoffed, mumbling, "Yeah, yeah" and shaking your head.

Spencer all but forced you to let him help you make the bed, quickly regretting it when it turned into you both bickering over who was doing it wrong and who was doing it right, Spencer cursing more in the ten minutes it took to make the bed than he had in your years of knowing each other, but you eventually had the bed made, both of you getting in on your designated sides. It was a good thing you both religiously slept on opposite sides, or you think you might've actually become an unsub.

You switched off your lamp before rolling over and scooting over the bed to press yourself into Spencer's back, wrapping your arm around him and nuzzling your cheek into his back. "Are you...spooning me?" Spencer sounded as if he was trying not to laugh, and you glared at him even though you couldn't see him whatsoever and he couldn't see you even if a light was on. "Oh, I see, you don't appreciate my spooning you ungrateful little ass; I'll just be over here, don't you worry," you scoffed, rolling over aggressively and letting out an overexaggerated huff as you scooched right to the very edge of the bed, as far away from him as you could get, taking all the blankets with you.

"No no! i do! I really appreciate your spooning! come back!" Spencer laughed, reaching behind him to find you, his hand accidentally landing on your ass, making you gasp and swat him away. "Pervert! You're lucky you're cute, y'know." You rolled back over and moved to slot yourself behind him again, pinching his waist as a form of punishment for grabbing your ass before you draped your duvet back over him.

You both lay listening to each other breathing as you felt sleep begin to creep up on you. You heard heavy breaths leaving Spencer's lips. You poked him lightly a few times to be sure he was asleep before you whispered quietly, "I hugged you because I'm kind of in love with you." You held your breath, praying that he was actually asleep, and when he didn't reply, you let it out, sinking into the mattress as you let your exhaustion win, everything going black.

silly little epilogue!

"Shit, shit, shit!" you practically yelled, rushing out of your apartment with Spencer in tow, still buttoning his shirt, belt undone, and hair awry as you both hurried to your car. You had both slept in for work, completely forgetting to set alarms the night before. You only woke up when Penelope called you, asking where you were, eyes bulging out of your head when you noticed how late you were, Spencer stirring beside you at the commotion, opening his mouth to say something when you slammed your hand over his lips, his eyes widening when he realised it was Penelope on the phone.

You had to lie to her when she asked if you knew where Spencer was, telling her you had no idea and that you were sure he would be there soon. Spencer took the opportunity to jump out of bed to scavenger hunt for his clothes around your apartment.

You made a pit stop on the way to the pharmacy to pick up the morning after pill, the cashier looking at you with a knowing look at your appearance; your hair was messy, your clothes were askew and untidy, and there was not a lick of makeup on your face. You only realised you didn't have anything to take it with when you got to the car, and you were not taking it dry, opting to just speed off and deal with it later.

Your car all but screeched to a stop when you reached the building, both of you swinging the doors open and slamming them behind you, almost forgetting to lock your car as you tried to discreetly run-walk to the elevator, which didn't work. Passersby giving you both weird looks.

You did your best to fix yourself in the elevator, trying to look at least presentable to minimise questions from your colleagues. You didn't even glance at Spencer; how he looked was his own problem today. The elevator dinged and the doors opened, both of you striding out in unison, making your way through the office to the conference room.

"So sorry, I'm late!" You spoke, quickly making your way to your seat. "Traffic was terrible, sorry, hotch." Spencer followed suit, taking the seat next to you as everyone's eyes turned to you, looking at you both with a strange expression that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Hotch went back to the briefing, going over the details that you had about the case when you leaned in to whisper to Derek, who was next to you. "Can I have a sip of your water?" you asked, and Derek nodded, handing it to you without hesitation. You tried to slyly pull the pill out of your pocket and quietly remove the packaging, but you clearly weren't sly or quiet enough. Penelope was gasping from across the table.

"no way! you dirty dogs!" She practically squealed, everyone's undevided attention turning to you, some confused expressions at her outburst. "That, my friends, is the morning after pill, and those, my friends, are a whole bunch of hickeys; oh, may I remind you they came in together, by the way?" Penelope pointed as she spoke, at your hand and at Spencer, both of you blushing and trying to wrack your brains for an explanation, but there was none.

"My boy!" Derek celebrated, leaning around you to pat Spencer on the back. You turned to him with an apologetic expression, realising it was probably your fault for not checking that they were covered, too worried about your appearance.

"Why am I not surprised?" Rossi added, a few of the others agreeing with him. You could tell that everyone wanted to bombard you both with questions but knew that they couldn't because of the whole part where you were all in an important meeting, Hotch clearing his throat as a reminder, everyone's attention turning back to the case.

You took the opportunity to actually take your pill, throwing it in your mouth and taking a swig of dereks water before handing it back to him and turning your attention to Hotch, the meeting continuing as normal.

You didn't notice Spencer scooting closer to you until he gently tapped your thigh to get your attention, turning to face him before he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"I'm kind of in love with you too, by the way."

[russo-woso]

hii i have an alessia russo request :)

basically reader is a huge fuckgirl and everyone knows this, then when she meets alessia after alessias transfer to arsenal they become really close and start sleeping together but r makes it clear it’s just casual, then lessi starts catching feelings for her and r is aware of it but she is kinda playing with alessias feelings and showing mixed signals, eventually lessi breaks down and starts yelling at r about how cruel she’s being by playing with her feelings, happy ending though please maybe there’s an explanation on why r was acting the way she was?

also please write it with a bottom!alessia :)

No strings || Alessia Russo x Bronze!reader

Warning smut 18+, ab riding, fingering, orgasm denial, bottom!alessia, top!reader

It’s a long one :)

Moving to Arsenal from Barcelona had been a hard move.

You knew it would be a hard move but you had prepared yourself for it.

The worst part of it all was the fact you were leaving your big sister, Lucy, behind.

Over the summer, you had been too focused on the World Cup to think about the dread of moving, but once you reached the airport, Lucy approached to say goodbye and that’s when it finally hit you.

You hated it.

You hated the fact you had to move.

But you had to. You had to leave.

You had to leave her.

Her being Jana Fernández.

You and Jana had been dating since you were both twenty and had dated for two years, however, when you were still madly in love with her, she came to you and said she had fallen out of love with you. She told you that you weren’t the one for her, and that killed you.

Once you’d broken up with Jana, it just became awkward and toxic to be around her.

Every training, you purposely avoided her but it became impossible to do that when you were always put at partners for training.

So you left.

You left everything behind so you could have a new beginning, and you wanted that.

You promised you wouldn’t fall in love again, not for a while at least, but that rule started to fade once you saw her, Alessia Russo.

Still being 22, you were playing with the under 23s, however, within the days prior to meeting her, you had received your call up for the World Cup.

Due to the fact you were only getting your call up then, you had never met Alessia but Lucy and Kiera had both told many stories with a certain blonde striker in them.

Alessia and you signed your contracts for Arsenal on the same day and the photographers suggested you take pictures together, which meant Arsenal got to show off their two new signings that could potentially be the future of English football.

It was only after the shoots that Alessia spoke to you.

“You’re Lucy’s sister aren’t you?” Alessia asked and you nodded in response, worried that you’d stutter if you opened your mouth. “You two look alike.” It was the truth. You and Lucy really did look alike. You both were tall, muscular, tattooed.

“Alessia, right?” You questioned, already knowing the answer and was confirmed when she nodded. “I’ve heard lots about you from Luce and Kiera. I’m guessing you’re the blonde striker that goes by Less in their stories.”

“They talk about me? What stories do they tell you?”

“There was this one story where you supposedly tripped over someone’s boot and face planted the floor.” You slightly giggled as Alessia’s face went a light shade of red. “Don’t worry, I’m clumsy too. Ask Luce. I’ve always been clumsy since I was a toddler. Running into stuff, tripping over things, everyone says they’re surprised I don’t trip over the ball when I play football.”

“No way, I get told that all the time.” You and Alessia laughed as the similarities you shared arose.

“Anyway, I best go, my plane back to Barca is in a few hours and you know what London traffic is like.” You joked and Alessia smiled. “See you in Australia?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you in Australia.” Alessia confirmed and with a small smile, you waved and left leaving a very confused Alessia.

Alessia had never come across a girl who made her feel the way you made her which racked her brain full of questions about you, and herself.

———————

“Luce, come on, I don’t like her. I can’t like her.” You complained as Lucy kept going on and on about you liking Alessia.

Once you’d gotten back from London, you told Lucy your encounter with Alessia and she had been teasing you for the past week.

You were currently on the way to London to meet up with the team before making your way to Australia for the World Cup.

“Yeah, but you do deep down, don’t you?” Lucy asked, desperate to get the truth from you.

“Kiera, please tell her to stop.” You begged, for the fourth time, as Kiera looked, unimpressed, at the both of you.

“Lucy, stop it.” Was all Kiera said and it was your turn to look unimpressed at her.

“Look, Luce, I get it. You’re my older sister, you want to know who I like, but I can’t like Alessia. Not after Jana.” You explained and Lucy gave you a sympathetic look. “And anyway, Alessia doesn’t even like girls.”

“Listen, kid, as your older sister, it’s not just my job to know who you like, but it’s also my job to make sure you’re happy, and if I think you’d be happy with Alessia, I say to shoot your shot.” Lucy told you and you nodded along, pretending to listen to her when actually you were blocking her voice out because you knew you wouldn’t do what she was saying.

Once Lucy had finished talking, she pressed resume on her laptop and went back to watching her film which you were grateful for because it meant that you didn’t have to continue the conversation.

———————

“Y/N, hi.” You heard a voice say before a pair of arms wrapped around you.

“Hi Alessia.” You said, taken aback at how sudden the action was.

“How are you? How was your flight from Barcelona?” Alessia questioned, you figured to try make conversation.

“It was good. A bit of turbulence and Lucy being annoying, but other than that, fine.” You replied, grabbing your suitcase before starting to walk away, hoping to end the conversation with your action but nope, Alessia grabbed hers too, walking side by side with you.

“Oh, why was Lucy being annoying?” Alessia asked and you mentally screamed.

As much as you wanted to speak to Alessia, like you really really wanted to, you couldn’t.

Could you?

“Just being herself, you know?” You lied, definitely not being able to tell Alessia the truth.

“Y/N!” You hear Georgia shout from across the terminal and you let out a small thankful sigh, not loud enough for Alessia to pick up on it though.

“I’ll see you on the plane, okay? Bye less.” You smiled at her, before walking to Georgia who enveloped you in a hug.

——————

To say you had had the best weeks of your life was an understatement.

Smashing through the group stages and winning against Nigeria, the whole team had an excited buzz around them.

The only thing that could make the summer even better, was if you could just admit your feelings to Alessia.

Over the past weeks, you and her had grown closer and closer, and you were definite that feelings were there for her but you pushed them away, also definite that your feelings were wrong.

To celebrate the win against Colombia, the whole team decided to go out after the match.

It had started with you saying you weren’t drinking much, but with constant nagging from Lucy, Mary, and a few other girls to drink, you figured you might as well.

You deserved to and it also meant you could get them off your back.

Once you had your first drink, you expected to feel a bit tipsy and then that would have been time to head home.

However, what you didn’t expect to happen, was to be drunkenly taking Alessia back to your room.

Whilst at the bar, flirty and needy touches from both, you and Alessia, had occurred and you took Alessia’s hand in yours, leading her outside before planting your lips on hers.

“Stay in my room tonight.” You whispered in her ear, breaking your lips from her jaw.

Alessia nodded almost immediately, moving to look you in your eyes before pressing her lips on yours.

From that moment, you booked a taxi and eventually ended back at the hotel, you and Alessia the only ones there.

You led Alessia upstairs, not letting your lips off her.

As you entered the room, you pinned Alessia against the wall, moving your lips down her neck whilst her hands tangled themselves in your hair.

A small sigh escaped Alessia’s mouth, her grip in your hair tightening as you continued to attack the sweet spot on her neck.

“Fuck” she murmured, whilst you licked the sensitive, fast growing mark on her neck.

You grabbed ahold of the bottom of her shirt, pulling it quickly over her head, before reconnecting your lips with her body.

This time, instead of moving to her neck, you pressed your lips to her collarbone and down to her chest, just above where her bra sat.

“Move to the bed?” You questioned, pulling away from her body.

“Please.” She whined as you grabbed the back of thighs, lifting her up, effortlessly, and carrying her to the bed.

You placed her down in the centre of the bed before climbing above her.

“Fuck, you look so good beneath me.” You whispered in her ear whilst reaching beneath her to unclip her bra.

“Take this off.” Alessia told you, playing with the hem of your shirt.

You sat up, nearly ripping the shirt off you, your abs flexing at the cool air.

You watched as Alessia’s eyes trailed down your body to your abs, her eyes growing when she landed on them.

You smirked lightly before grabbing the top of her trousers, pulling down swiftly along with her underwear.

“Please hurry up.” Alessia mumbled, your mouth quickly attaching itself to her right nipple.

“Patience, pretty girl.” You told her, your voice husky which clearly affected Alessia because the moan she let out was almost pornographic.

Your tongue swirled around her nipple, your teeth often biting down gently to give her even more pleasure.

“Please, Y/N.” Alessia begged, and you lifted your head to look at her.

Her eyes were screwed shut, her head against the bed.

You locked eyes with hers once they opened, the blue that you’d fallen in love with was the only thing you could focus on.

“Are you sure you want this?” You asked, needing the confirmation before continuing.

“I want this, I’ve wanted this for a long time.” She revealed and you lowered yourself so you were in line with her pussy.

Planting teasing kisses to her inner thighs, you eventually thought it was time and connected your mouth with her mouth.

Alessia sucked a breath in as you made contact with her.

The whole experience was intoxicating for you.

The taste of her was intoxicating.

The smell of her was intoxicating, the perfume she wore was all you could smell.

Her laugh was intoxicating.

“You taste so good.” You moaned shamelessly into her pussy which made her buck her hips into your face.

You grabbed ahold of her thighs, keeping them in place whilst you continued to eat her out.

Your tongue took turns between going to her core and to her clit.

“I’m so close.” Alessia breathed out, her breath uneven and ragged.

You hummed in response, sending vibrations through Alessia’s body, moving her closer and closer to the edge.

The sounds escaping Alessia’s mouth made you feel like you were in heaven.

You felt Alessia’s pussy begin to clench so with a final lick you pulled away, leaving a very confused and angry Alessia.

“What? I was so close.” Alessia whined, out of breath.

“I know, pretty girl, but you’re gonna cum. I promise.”

You wiped your mouth, due to it being covered in Alessia’s juices, before leaning down to kiss her.

She moaned into the kiss due to her tasting herself.

As you deepened the kiss, you felt Alessia’s hand work its way to your abs, slowly tracing her fingers over them.

You smirked into the kiss, knowing how much she loved them.

“‘m gonna flip you, okay?” You stated and switched your positions so now, head was against the headboard and Alessia straddled your hips, more so your torso.

She bucked her hips at the contact with your abs.

You grabbed ahold of her hips, slowly guiding her up and down your abs.

“That’s it, pretty girl.” You praised her as she started to pick up the pace of her hips.

Moans escaped Alessia’s mouth and she increased her speed.

With the sensitivity from the denied orgasm, you figured Alessia would cum quickly and as you expected, she did.

It didn’t take long for her to mumble that she was close.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god — ‘m gonna cum.” Alessia nearly screamed, and at that point, you flipped her again so she was beneath you and you slipped your fingers into her.

You continuously pumped in and out of her, to push her over the edge.

Curling your fingers to a particular spot, she moaned for the final time and her legs spasmed around your arm.

“God, I love you so much. I’ve loved you for ages, Y/N. I’ve wanted your lips on mine for months.” Alessia revealed and your face turned white.

You were speechless.

You didn’t know what to think. Maybe it was just post orgasm talk. Or maybe it was the truth.

“And I’m not just saying that because you just gave me the best orgasm of my life. I really do like you, Y/N.” Alessia admitted.

Bingo. There was your answer.

Thoughts swirled through your head.

You liked her back. You know you do. But you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t.

“I’m gonna get a clean cloth and I’ll help you clean up.” You told her, desperately trying to change the topic.

“Oh, okay.” Alessia said, the sparkle in her eyes disappearing which killed you to think that you were the reason for the action.

You promised yourself from that moment that you wouldn’t sleep with anyone, especially Alessia, until you were ready for an actual relationship.

Seeing Alessia hurt and confused killed you, and you didn’t want to experience that again.

You broke that promise though.

Following the win against Australia, the girls went drinking and Alessia ended up in your bed again.

It wasn’t planned and you didn’t intend for her to end there.

But similarly, you left her confused and hurt when you came up with an excuse for her to go.

You hated it.

You hated yourself for making her go through torture.

But most of all, you hated yourself for giving her mixed signals.

You ignore her when you walk past her, but then sleep with her.

You pretend like you don’t know her, but then sprint to her when she scores.

You show her that you don’t like her, but then show her that you love her.

You figured Alessia would snap at you at some point.

What you didn’t expect, was for her to snap at you at the worst time possible.

After the final and the loss to Spain, the team went out for a final time, hoping the drink would take away their emotions.

The night consisted of alcohol, dancing and jealousy.

The jealousy part in all the girls who were jealous of Spain for taking the win, but for you, it was a different type of jealousy.

Throughout the night, a bloke had made his way to Alessia, a flirty smirk resting on his face.

You saw Alessia smile back and within the space of a few hours, they’d gone from talking, to his hands resting on her hips as they danced.

You hadn’t realised just how jealous you were until Mary pointed it out.

“Mini Bronze, what’s with the frown and the red face? Angry are we?” Millie teased and the rest of the team agreed.

Instead of responding, you got out of your seat, stomping over to Alessia and the guy before pushing him away from Alessia.

“Get away from her.” You almost shouted as he pushed back.

“Why?” He snarled, harshly pushing you again. “Are you her girlfriend?”

“What if I was? Have a problem with that?” You squared up to him before he threw a punch.

You eyed him down, throwing a harder punch back.

You felt a pair of arms wrap around you and Lucy telling you to stop.

She separated you and the bloke before telling him to get out.

“What’s your problem?” You heard Alessia shout at you.

It took you, and the rest of the team, by shock at her shouting because she never raised her voice.

“You give me signs that you like me and then you ignore me! You fucking sleep with me, but then walk straight past me the next day. I like you Y/N! Why can’t you just tell me if you like me back? I just want an answer!” Alessia continued to shout.

You watched everyone’s jaws drop at the sudden reveal.

“I do. I do like you Alessia. I’ve liked you since Lucy and Kiera would come home talking about this climbs blonde striker. But I can’t love you. I can’t.” Your voice broke as you said the final sentence.

“Why? Why can’t you love me?”

“Because…” You were about to explain but remembered all the people who had surrounded you, including your big sister and all your teammates. “Can we go outside?”

Alessia nodded, and you both walked out the door and into the darkness that surrounded the bar.

“Why can’t you love me, Y/N, because I need to know. I need to know if you love me or not. Because I’m wasting my life waiting for you when potentially, you don’t even like me back.”

“I can’t love you because I loved Jana and she left me. I loved her and she said randomly one day that she didn’t love me anymore. I don’t want that to happen to us, because I love you too much Alessia. I think I loved you before I even met you. I don’t want to lose you and if that means staying friends, then so it stays.” You explained, Alessia’s face changing from anger to sympathy. “I wish I could love you Alessia, I really want to. But I don’t want any of us to get hurt.”

“I don’t care if I get hurt, Y/N. And I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d rather quit football than hurt you. I’d give up football in a heartbeat for you, and that’s telling you something. Please, let me love you.” Alessia said, inching closer and closer until she stated the last sentence against your lips.

“I’ll never stop loving you.” You whispered against hers before connecting them.

This time, the kiss was slow and full of love.

“I’m so sorry for everything, Less. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to confuse you.” You rambled as you pulled away from the kiss.

“It’s okay. I understand, I promise you, I understand. That’s in the past now.”

Alessia was true.

Jana and that experience was your past, Alessia was now your future.

[lightsoutnaway]

No Touching

PAIRING: Max Verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, orgasm denial, unprotected sex, use of sir, dom/sub dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

SUMMARY: Max told you not to touch yourself while he was away leaving you desperate

WORD COUNT: 1,946

You were waiting for Max in the bedroom. He had back to back races and you weren’t able to make it to either. You hadn’t seen him in two weeks. It wasn’t unheard of to go so long without seeing Max. Time apart was unavoidable with your careers. Before Max left this time he had made you promise that you wouldn’t touch yourself while he was gone though. He had still chosen to call you every night, telling you what he was doing to himself and moaning into the phone as he took care of himself. You were not allowed to indulge. You just had to listen like a good girl. You had been incredibly frustrated for the past two weeks. It rained at the last Grand Prix and Max had posted photos of him dripping with rain, knowing when you saw them it would drive you even crazier.

Max would be home tonight though, and your torture was over. He had texted you that he had landed a half hour ago, so he would be back in minutes. You had stripped yourself down fully and were waiting on the bed for Max. You straightened out when you heard the front door open. Max laughed when he got into the room.

“You seem a little eager,” Max commented. You immediately whined at him, like a child who wasn’t allowed to play with their favorite toy.

“Max, please!” You cried. You got off the bed and moved towards him, hands going to touch every part of his body as you kissed him. Max pushed you off himself gently.

“Didn’t say you could touch me, princess,” Max said. You pouted up at him and Max chuckled.

“Don’t tease. Touch me,” you whined, going back to the bed. You laid on your back and spread your legs wide for Max, knees bent up as you looked at him. Max stared down at your glistening cunt.

“You’re very wet,” he said.

“I need you so bad,” you defended. Max ran a finger through your heat, watching as a string of your arousal stuck to his finger when he pulled away. You moaned embarrassingly loud.

“Very wet,” Max murmured. “You haven’t been touching yourself, have you, schatje?” He asked. You shook your head fiercely.

“No, Max! I was good! I swear! I didn’t touch, just like you told me. I’ve been waiting for you,” you started assuring him, scared that he would make you wait if he thought you had disobeyed. Max smiled.

“You were good?” He repeated. You nodded.

“I was good,” you answered firmly.

“Are you going to keep being good?” He asked. You were quiet for a moment, nervous about what his plans were.

“Are you going to make me wait more, Maxie?” You asked nervously.

“Are you going to be good?” Max asked again, his voice firm. You nodded hesitantly.

“I’ll be good,” you promised. Max hummed happily.

“That’s my girl,” Max praised. He grabbed your ankle and pulled you down so that your legs were hanging off the edge of the bed. He pulled his shirt off in one motion and you moaned at the simple sight of his body. He got down on his knees, pushing your legs apart. He kissed your inner thighs, raising goosebumps on your skin. His hands opened you wider for himself, but he wouldn’t touch you where you wanted him most,

“Max, please!” You cried out when he continued to ignore your throbbing cunt.

“Please what?” He asked.

“My pussy! Please, Max. It needs you!”

“Oh, does it?” He taunted.

“Yes!” You were practically yelling at this point.

“Hush,” Max scolded. “I did not make you wait while I was gone just to give in the second I got back.” You whined in protest, worried what his plans were.

“I need to come,” you whimpered. “It’s been too long.”

“Hmm,” Max hummed lightly in response, not seeming to care about the frustration you were feeling. You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for the seemingly endless torture Max had in store for you. Just as you were beginning to get control over yourself, his tongue was on your cunt.

“Oohhhhh, yes!” You moaned involuntarily. Max chuckled. He sluggishly flicked his tongue up and down your hole, drinking up the juices that were slipping from you.

“You taste good, schatje. As sweet as always,” he praised. You reached down, threading your hands through his hair. He hadn’t cut it in a while and there was plenty for you to pull at as he worked his tongue against you. You knew better than to try and control his movements. It would only get you in trouble.

The burning frustration you had been feeling for the last two weeks was cooling to a simmer when Max took your clit in his mouth. He sucked as he flicked his tongue against the head of your clit. You started thrashing against the mattress, your orgasm moments away when Max pulled away from you, leaving you panting and shaking.

“Max, please!” You begged. “I was good! I waited so long!”

“I know, schatje. I know,” Max cooed. “But I want to play with you a little bit before you get what you want.” You pouted. “Is that okay, baby? Can I play?” You whined in protest but nodded.

“Yes, sir,” you answered obediently.

“My good girl. Always so sweet to me. Always following the rules,” he sighed happily. He turned back down to your cunt. He beheld your shining cunt, his glittering prize. His lips found their way down to your clit, taking the swollen bud into his mouth again. This time he slid a single finger into you as well. The sudden sensation had you arching your back off the mattress. It wasn’t long before he had you on the precipice again.

You were panting, trying to stave off your orgasm as it approached. You never wanted to disappoint Max, but you couldn’t hide how desperate you were anymore. He slipped a second finger into you and the moan you let out was the most beautiful sound Max had ever heard.

“Can I please come, Maxie? Please, please please!” You cried helplessly.

“No,” Max answered simply. He drew his touch away from you and you cried out in protest.

“No, Max, please!” You whined. You thrashed against the mattress in frustration. You sniffled and pouted up at Max. “Please! I want to come!” You sobbed.

“Aw, poor baby,” Max cooed. He stood, reaching down to rub his thumb against your cheek, wiping a tear away.

“It hurts,” you said softly, tears slipping from your eyes.

“It hurts?” He asked quietly. You nodded.

“I need to come,” you pleaded with him.

“You’ll get to come soon,” he promised. “Not yet though.”

You whined in protest. You hesitantly reached down towards your cunt, wanting to touch yourself. Max quickly pulled your hands away from your body.

“No, princess. You know better,” Max scolded. You whined in protest.

“I waited so long,” you whimpered. “I was good.”

“I know, liefje,” Max responded. “You’re always good for me.” You mewled at the praise.

“Please, Max,” you pleaded helplessly. Max smiled softly but said nothing. He pushed his sweatpants down, his hard cock springing out of them. You shifted your legs even wider open. He stepped forward and took his cock in his hand, tapping the tip of it against your soaked pussy. You whimpered, the anticipation burning through your whole body.

Without warning he was sliding into you, his whole length easily pushing into you from how wet you were.

“Oh, fuck,” he moaned. “You’re so warm.” His thrusts started slowly, savoring the feeling of your wet cunt clenching down on him as he moved. He knew what you needed though. He knew how desperate he had you and though Max liked to play with you, he always aimed to please. He sped up his movements, the sounds coming from your mouth and cunt haunting his senses as he fucked you.

“Maxie, please. I can’t this time. I need it so bad,” you murmured up to him as you felt your orgasm approaching again. He pulled you as close to the edge of the bed as you could get without falling, making sure that he could thrust into you as deep as possible. He reached down to your clit, pressing his thumb against it and rubbing in a thoughtful circle.

“Go ahead, schatje. You earned it,” he told you. With his approval, you didn’t hesitate to let the barriers inside you break and your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave.

“Fuck, Max! Max! Max!” You sobbed out as you came. The pleasure you felt was unmatched. Max revelled in the sight of you falling apart around him and let himself go as well, his knees nearly buckling beneath him as he came inside you, murmuring your name alongside a few curses.

He grabbed your hips, shifting you up the bed so you could both lay down properly. He took you in his arms, cradling your head into his chest as you calmed. He stroked your hair softly as your body settled back into itself.

“You were so good,” Max cooed. “You did such a good job.”

“Please don’t make me wait that long again,” you murmured as you nuzzled your nose against Max’s muscular chest. Max giggled.

“Why not? You didn’t like it?” He asked. You were quiet for a moment.

“A little,” you admitted. Max smiled softly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I liked it a lot,” he said smugly.

“Of course you did,” you said. “You didn’t have to go two weeks listening to me come while you couldn’t touch yourself.” Max laughed.

“Okay, that was a little mean of me,” he conceded.

“Next time I won’t call. You just have to wait,” Max said. You whined in disapproval.

“I don’t like waiting,” you pouted. Max laughed.

“Patience is good for you, baby,” Max told you.

“Maybe you should learn some yourself,” you spit back at him.

“I’m the fastest man alive,” he said. “I don’t have to wait for anything.”

“Next time you have to wait with me too,” you said firmly. Max kissed your forehead softly.

“I’m not as good as you are. I might not follow the rules,” he teased. You hummed.

“Then you’ll get a penalty.” Max laughed.

“A penalty? What kind of penalty?” He asked.

“I don’t know yet. But I’ll come up with something. You don’t always get to have all the fun,” you said.

“You didn’t have fun?” Max asked.

“I didn’t say that,” you replied. He chuckled lightly.

“My good girl. Always so sweet. Always so perfect.” You didn’t hear him, having drifted off to sleep in the comfort of his strong arms. He pulled you in closer when he realized you fell asleep, wanting to have you tucked into his warm body. He murmured a good night to your sleeping form before he reached over the bedside lamp and clicked it off. The quiet and still of the room felt comfortable. He was home again. Before he fell asleep he felt you kiss the crook of his neck, somehow drifting awake as he settled into bed.

“I love you,” you murmured. Max smiled to himself. He realized neither of you had said it since he had gotten back. It seemed like an error to him; A mistake that he needed to remedy at once. So, before he let sleep take over his body he pressed one last kiss to your forehead and whispered back to you:

“I love you too.”

[blackpilljesus]

I saw this from the female separatism subreddit & the responses are some of the biggest reasons for separatism et al (or extinction if I'm being candid here). Moids cant be reformed they are fully aware of the hell they force women to live in. MaIe achievement & happiness is rooted in female exploitation & life. Their glory days are based on our horrific days. No amount of love, kindness or facts will change maIes and we cannot happily or even neutrally coexist with them.

Main points across answers:

Many want to experiment but not permanently be women

They dont want to be in constant danger or lose their autonomy at the hands of maIes for merely existing

They dont want to deal with childbirth (& periods)

They dont want to have to share spaces with species much stronger than them with ulterior motives

It makes me go crazy seeing people give moids benefit of doubt for their evil like "maIes just dont understand", "we need to teach maIes", or claiming that maIe violence is a result of maIes struggling with (expressing) their feelings. I get that women love maIes and it can be hard to imagine that people can intentionally be so evil but it is what it is. MaIes have no problems expressing themselves, abusing women is what maIes choose to do because they enjoy & benefit from it - that is their expression.

MaIes see the same news of women being abused, raped, and killed like we do except rather than be disheartened or alarmed they're either apathetic or satisfied. It isn't aliens that's committing GBV it's maIes & maIes have no problem reminding women of this when women anger them (such as rape threats & threatening women they'll end up on the news/true crime). The victim blaming, denial, and derailment of misogyny is part of the game to keep the system alive, they know the events occured & are a systemic occurence they just dont care. Hell not only do they not care, they rejoice in it or get off on it.

MaIes set up environments that work in their favour which simultaneously ensures that women will lose. They know women are set up to live in damn near impossible conditions for us. It's normalised for women to defenselessly share personal & private spaces with beings much more stronger than them with ulterior motives for us, it's trap. It's interesting how these moids aren't saying that they'll just cover up and *poof* harrassment gone, or they'll just pick a nice guy & they'll be okay. MaIes know the net negative they are towards women.

MaIes know that childbirth is a painful process & what do they do? Demand it happens and make it even MORE painful for women. MaIes that impregnate women do not love or care for them. Pregnancy itself is dangerous & sometimes lethal, often comes with a range of health issues, to cause someone to be in that condition especially in a environment where abortions are illegal is reckless & unloving. Now imagine how sinister & full of hatred one has to be to impregnate someone and abuse them on top of that. Many women risk their health & lives to reproduce with a Y and they get abused by said Y instead of being taken care of. Deranged.

Realising that maIes are aware of the evil they inflict is one of the things that radicalised me. It isn't a miscommunication or ignorance issue, their violence is intended. They want control. The cruelty is the point. Instead of wasting time & energy trying to change maIes or hope that they "understand" one day, focus on yourself & other women (who prioritise women). Moids aren't oblivious to female pain they enjoy it. A lot of women treat maIe evil like it's a mistake on maIes part but it's calculated terrorism. I know that this will go over many womens heads as they refuse to hold strong negative sentiments about moids as a collective so if you're not a woman like that, take this post as a sanity check. You aren't crazy, it isn't all in your head.

[citrustan]

slipping through my fingers [4] (myg)

title: and the hits keep coming 2.0

pairing: min yoongi x reader genre: dilf!yoongi, exes and co-parents au, angst!, fluff, smut summary: just when you thought yoongi couldn't surprise you anymore, it happens again. warnings: [other parts should be read before this one] a lot more feelings of insecurity and sad vibes, yoongi stepping over oc's boundaries, oc being disrespected yet again (nothing new nothing changed same old shit same old fucking shit)

You were tempted to ignore him, but with Nao involved, you couldn’t avoid dealing with him.

“You should go eat. I can just talk to him for you…?” Taehyung suggests as he watches you contemplate your next move.

That would be great help to you. While you couldn’t afford to avoid him forever, maybe a few days wouldn’t hurt. So, with an overwhelming and shaky sigh, you passed the phone to him.

He hurriedly motions for you to leave the room. And you reluctantly do so.

Taehyung scrunches his nose and shuts the door in your face.

Fighting the urge to hold a glass against the door, you forced yourself to wait in the kitchen till he was done.

On the other side of the door, Taehyung angrily exhales, taking his own sweet time to answer your phone. Then the call drops.

Not even a second later, the loud ringtone fills the room once again. It reeks of desperation.

“Hello?”

No response.

He tries again, “Hello?”

“…Taehyung?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

After another pause, the voice scoffs, “Figures.”

A bit taken aback, Taehyung bit his tongue, “What do you want?”

Taehyung hears nothing back. “Yoongi? Why’d you call?”

“I called _____, not you.”

“Well, she can’t talk now.”

Now it was Yoongi’s turn to bite back. “This has nothing to do with you, Tae. I just need to talk to her.”

“You can’t. You have me instead. What more do you have to say?”

There’s yet another long pause.

“How is she?”

Taehyung almost laughs in disbelief, “You can’t be serious. How do you think, Yoongi? Is the future Mrs. Min okay with you asking about your ex?”  

“Careful, Taehyung-”

“Does everyone else know already?”  

“Of course not, I went straight to _____’s. And nobody can know about it either. We’re not ready. I just…”

Taehyung grew more confused the longer Yoongi took to speak.

“I need to talk to her, Taehyung. I really… I messed up.”

“Did something more happen?”

Another pause.

“No. I just had to check in… Can I come by tomorrow? I still need to drop Mimi off.”

“Uh… right, about that. Listen…” Taehyung thinks for a second, “I think, maybe it’d be better if you just let her breathe for a moment. And I’ll come get Naomi.”

Another pause.

“Did she ask for that?”

Taehyung had half a mind to lie about it but he refrained, deciding that the truth would hurt him more. “You know she’d never. She’s too… stupid-” Stupidly in love with you. “-and you need to stop taking advantage of her; you need to hold back, Yoongi. You can’t go running to her for everything anymore.”

Yoongi knew he was in the wrong, but was annoyed that Taehyung was the one to tell him that.

Still a little in denial, he childishly spits, “Fine, bye. Get here before 7.”

Taehyung wanted to retaliate but he was immediately met with a little digital sound indicating that Yoongi had hung up on him.

A little bemused, Taehyung pulls your purple Samsung away from his ear and stares at it--- “So fucking typical.”

As Taehyung steps out of your room, he almost bulldozes you down.

“Jesus, _____.” Frowning, he asks, “Were you eavesdropping?”

You shook your head and wordlessly waved a jar of tiramisu in front of his nose.

Taehyung eyes you suspiciously, “I’m going to pick Naomi up tomorrow.”

When he says that, your face visibly drops. You didn’t actually expect Yoongi to pull away so fast. Was his girlfriend already keeping him from you now? You almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for thinking like you owned him.

Taehyung debates on whether he should elaborate or wait to see if you ask about it.

But you just gently and nonchalantly nod, “Right, of course. That’s okay. Please bring her here by 7.”

“He didn’t ask for this!” Taehyung blurts.

Your expression doesn’t change.

A little intimidated, he looked straight at his feet and explained, “I offered to pick her up. But Yoongi called because he wanted to talk to you. I just told him that I thought it was a bad idea.”

When he doesn’t hear you react, he slowly looks up at you, suddenly feeling miniscule. And he swore he could see steam coming out of your ears.

Taking a deep breath, you stare into his eyes, “You need to stop overstepping. You’ve done it once already. You need to stop.”

He almost felt the heat radiating from you.  

Almost as if he didn’t actually expect you to react so negatively, he asks, “_____... You’re really mad about this?”

You slam your jar on the coffee table and storm off into the kitchen.

“The first time you meddled, Yoongi left me. The second time, he happened to meet his future wife. What’s it going to be now?”

Taehyung was stunned, “Are you kidding me? Are you just mad that I’m looking out for you in ways you yourself wouldn’t or do you really believe that?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you planned it all,” you glare at him accusingly.

Too stunned to digest what you accused him of, his eyes just widened in bewilderment. “_____. I- Planned what, _____?”

You tip your head forward in mockery, “Planned what? Take a guess.”

The room fills with silence once more.

Taehyung shook his head, “I’m going to ignore all of that. And fine, I’ll ask him to call you back then.”

“No!” – “No?” He parrots.

“I don’t want him to call me.” You almost whine. You don’t even know what you truly want. (Actually, you do.)

“Okay.” Taehyung nodded reassuringly, his hands grasping at your elbows, “He won’t. I’ll bring Naomi back tomorrow. Okay?” But you shook your head obstinately, “No, I want her back now.”

“Right now?” - “Now.”

“_____...” He looked at the grandfather clock on your wall.

Cringing a little, Taehyung attempts to reason with you, “_____, it’s Yoongi’s turn to have her.”

“Yeah, that’s a spoken agreement, not a written and notarized thing. He can’t stop me from wanting to spend time with my daughter.” You’re sure this is evil _____ speaking and it’s as if you can’t control her.  

Taehyung nervously cracks his knuckles. He doesn’t have a counter argument. You are Naomi’s mother and arguably the primary caretaker after all. He figures he owes you this.

“So, will you get her back for me?” You weren’t really giving him an option.

Taehyung knew your word was final. Either way, he wouldn’t police you on being a mother. “Let me give Yoongi a call, okay?”

“You do that. I’ll make you something to eat before you go!” You smile sweetly.

Not quite sure of your strategy here, all you knew was that you wanted your daughter with you. It was your way of gaining some control back in your life. You don’t have it in you to think of whether or not this was ethical or right. You just did not want to spiral.

From the kitchen, you could faintly hear Taehyung on the phone.

You take note of his assertiveness and slap some extra mortadella on his sandwich. He deserved it for putting up with you. You couldn’t think of anyone else who’d still be with you and handle your mood swings.

Was that normal or just sad? You do not want to think.

In your mind, you were satisfied in life. Sometimes you regret bringing up marriage with Yoongi. Maybe if you hadn’t forced the idea on him, you could’ve been in Hyejin’s place now.

The fact that you’re even in this position is ridiculous. Sooner or later you’d have to face… everything. The reason they’re getting married and you aren’t. The fact that they might have Nao be a part of their wedding and you’d just have to smile and nod, that Nao may have another parental figure, that you won’t be Yoongi’s bride or a bride at all, ever, and that maybe you’ve lost Yoongi’s companionship forever.

You had to step out for a bit.

Right at that moment, Taehyung emerges from the living room into the kitchen.

Sighing, he starts, “So, he agreed. He wants to know if everything’s okay. Of course, I know it isn’t but I told him he had nothing to worry about. And he didn’t buy it.” –

You push the little ceramic plate towards him, “Eat your sandwich.”

Taking a large bite out of it, Taehyung thanks you and adds, “--- by the way, your food is on the dining table, I didn’t actually give it away, you know?”

“I saw it,” you confirmed, “Jus’ not hungry.”

Quickly changing the topic back to Nao, you ask, “So, can Nao be back now or…?”

“Yeah. Here’s the thing…” He stalled. “Nao’s coming now.”

A gulp. You think he’s swallowing his food.

“Yoongi’s coming with.”

‘Why do you always bring me bad news?’ is what you wanted to ask. Instead, you squeak out a “When?”

“Twenty minutes? Told me Nao was already dolled up or something.” He finishes his sandwich and washes the plate.

In a soothing tone, Taehyung proposes, “Why don’t you head down to the pâtisserie? I’ll receive them. You don’t have to worry about seeing him, okay?”

You appreciated his offer but chose to decline it, “No. It’s okay. I need to tidy up anyway,” – “_____, I’ll do it for you. I know how you like it. Go take a walk or grab a sweet treat or something, yes?”

“No, it’ll take too long for you to do it by yourself. You can help me though. Just do my bed, please?” You’re already walking off.

Taehyung follows you into your room but doesn’t have a chance to stop you, you’re already stripping down and into your ‘serious cleaning’ clothes. It’s just an old dress and rubber gloves.

Sometimes, Taehyung mourns what you and Yoongi could have been. You’re perfect for each other. The two of you just needed to work on your communication a little. He’s thinking about how much of you Yoongi’s missing out on and can’t help but scoff. In pop culture terms, he really fumbled you.

Suddenly you gasp, “Did you watch me change?” Aimed at the man.

“No!” Vehemently shaking his head, he repeats, “Not intentionally! I was zoned out!”

“Wow, calm down, I don’t mind, you know that.” You smile sweetly once again.

Grabbing a pillow, he sighs. Sometimes, he thinks you toy with him on purpose. He really can’t tell.

 ₊˚ ‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Forty minutes go by yet there has been no sign of Nao or Yoongi. No calls or messages, no updates whatsoever.

You ought to get Nao a little phone for herself. How had you not thought of this before? It’ll probably be a lot more useful now.

You were nervously readjusting the doilies in a circle over and over again when the doorbell suddenly rang.

Taehyung’s resting figure suddenly snapped upright, “I’ll get it.”

However, you were closer to the door and got to it before he could take two steps.

When you open the door, you wished Taehyung would’ve beaten you to it. You wish you had taken that walk or chosen to buy yourself a sweet drink; because you couldn’t even have guessed what was waiting for you on the other side of the door.

Nothing could have prepared you to see your ex-boyfriend with his current girlfriend and your daughter. Together. All of them. Holding hands. In front of you for the very first time. All of them.

While Yoongi had the decency of looking literally anywhere but in your eyes, you couldn’t say the same about his girlfriend. Fiancée.

Hyejin, placed between your daughter and your ex, exhaled a dreamy smile. “I hope you don’t mind me intruding, _____! Nao-chan wanted to show you our matching hairstyle!”

Bewildered and wordless, all you could do was smile and nod. You mechanically turn your head to look at Nao, who sported a baby pink lock of hair amongst her regular, natural hair identical to Hyejin’s.

You nodded and stepped aside, briefly bumping into Taehyung who looked just as uncomfortable as Yoongi, making space for the lovely family to step into your home. Your eyes were glued to your feet.

Just like always, before you take a drastic step, your daughter grounds you as she runs to you and clings to your lower half. Although, the pink strands of hair brushing against you almost make you lose it all. Almost.

Following which Taehyung breaks the tension by awkwardly, yet warmly greeting the pair, taking a load off of you.

You needed to lie down.

₊˚.🎧 ✩｡ how to disappear completely by radiohead ₊˚.🎧 ✩｡

note: sorry! it probably gets better! i think this one has a few edits pending but i couldn't waitttt

[buckysgrace]

Hi. You’re amazing!

Do you ever write fluff? Like if you found out you were pregnant with Billy’s baby and at first he’s upset and doesn’t want anything to do with you but after you have the baby ( a little boy with blonde curls like Billy) he gets all emotional and wants to desperately be a better father than his dad was to him 😭

Hello! Thank you so much <3 I absolutely will write fluff!

CW: Mentions of abortion, mentions of child abuse, lots of Billy being scared and a lil mean.

Billy's son is also referenced as having blonde curls and his nose, but the rest is ambiguous!

He was scared.

Billy honestly didn't know what he was going to do. There had been many arguments with you about it, but you seemed fairly determined. You were going to have this baby, whether he wanted to be a part of the baby's life or not.

It wasn't necessarily that he didn't want to be involved, but he could feel a crushing fear spreading through him every time he thought about being a dad.

His relationship with his own dad was strained. Things weren’t the best between them. He never really had a positive father figure, someone that showed him how to stay calm even when he was frustrated. The last thing he wanted was to end up snapping at his own child.

He couldn’t be a dad.

“Not mine,” He said once you showed up with the ultrasound, the bloodwork and everything. Denial was all he could think about, all he could process. He couldn’t fuck up your life and this child’s life if he wasn’t involved. It was that simple, “I didn’t knock you up.” 

“Uh huh,” Was your dry answer, your eyes looking less than amused, “Do you want a paternity test then, William?” Came your snarky response, because you both knew the truth. This baby was his, there was no doubt in Billy’s mind about that. And it terrified him. 

“Don’t call me that.” He said as he pushed his hair off of his forehead, feeling sick as it continued to wash over him. He was going to be a dad. He was going to end up just like Neil. 

“Then don’t act like you weren’t a part of this.” You said, looking just as fearful as what he felt. He sat down on the edge of his bed, tapping his foot rapidly as he thought about how good a smoke sounded right now. He’d need a lot more to make him relax. 

“It’s still early, right?” He questioned at last, turning his attention back to you. He watched the way your eyebrows furrowed tightly together and then relaxed again. Your eyes softened, telling him what he already knew. 

“I’m not getting an abortion,” You said at last, “I’ve made up my mind. You can make your decision, but I’m not letting you walk in and out of our lives whenever you see fit. You can be a part of this baby's life or we can end this. Whatever you prefer.” You were gentle with him, setting out the options softly like you always did. You understood him better than anyone else, made him feel safe. It made him sick to think about how he was hurting the one person he really cared about. 

“Can I think about it?” He asked at last, feeling like there wasn’t anything else to do. He didn’t have an answer yet and he didn’t want to end up saying the wrong thing. He was growing angry at himself. He could only imagine what Neil would say once he found out. 

“Yeah,” You replied gently, eyes softening as you nodded your head, “But I can’t wait forever. I need to know your answer soon.” Your voice slightly wavered but he looked away, not wanting to see you so upset. 

“Yeah,” He responded as he nodded his head and placed his fingers tightly together, “I’ll let you know.” He said at last, staying put until you left. Everything was falling apart, breaking down around him. He couldn’t deal with it right now. 

Ignoring you was harder than he’d thought it would be. He looked for you everywhere he went, even though he knew he couldn’t have you. That was his own fault regardless. He’d made up his mind. It would be easier this way.

Yet, when the invitation for your baby shower arrived in his mail he felt his walls caving in. They crashed into him, making him break down as he stared at your handwritten notes on the card. He could tell just by reading it that you were excited, not afraid. He wished he could be more like you. 

In the end, he decided to go. He needed closure, as he was sure you needed to. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to stand living in the same town as you, knowing that his child would never know him. Somehow, that made him feel even worse.

He felt lonely as the months drew on. He had no one to confide in for his problems; especially Neil and Susan. He didn’t know what to say when they questioned about your disappearance and he felt even more at a loss when they asked him if you were pregnant. A shrug of his shoulders was his answer. He really didn’t know. 

The walk up towards the little gymnasium felt odd, like he didn’t quite belong as he stared at the little balloons and elephant decorations that were spotted throughout the room. There were familiar faces; your friends and family. Some other people that weren’t quite as well known. He still felt awkward, like everyone knew that he was the one who had knocked you up and ran. 

“Hey,” You drew out as you approached him, your palm flat against the bump in front of you, “I didn’t think you’d be here.” You said slowly, literally glowing as you stood in front of him. You had a sundress on, your cheeks were warm and forehead a little sweaty. He wondered if it was from the baby. 

“I didn’t think I’d come either.” He admitted at last, hating how horrible that sounded. He just felt like he was in a rut, buried deep inside of a hole with no real way of coming out. You were like sunshine through the dirt, warming his skin as he watched you. 

“What does this mean?” You asked him at last, tilting your head as your eyes softened over his features. He wished that he had a real answer for you, to tell you how he felt. He was in love with you; deeply. He just didn’t want to hurt you either. It was complicated. 

“I really don’t know yet,” He mumbled, “It just felt right.” He decided on, unable to tell you just how much he missed you. He was nearly desperate enough to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness. He would if you pushed him hard enough. 

“Billy,” You drew out in exasperation, “I can’t have you doing this, being so wishy-washy. What do you want?” You asked him seriously, looking like you were close to cracking too. He wanted to reach out and touch you, to hold you. He needed to apologize. 

“I just want to be better,” He replied slowly, “I want to be here. For you and for-,” He stalled for a moment as he looked down at your baby bump, feeling like he was at a loss once again. He wasn’t sure if you wanted him in his life or not. 

“Him,” You said quickly, “We’re having a little boy.” Your eyes were glazed over in tears, your lips pulling into the tightest smile. You were clearly emotional, making him feel awful as he reached his hand forward. Your fingers met slowly, molding against one another. He felt sparks traveling up his arms, leaving him resentful of the past few months he’d wasted. 

“That’s-, that’s good,” He answered after he cleared his throat. He was already scared to be a dad, but to have a son? He feared that even more. He was sure he was following directly into Neil’s shows, “Have you decided on a name?”

“I kind of like Cash,” You stated as you rubbed at your belly, “Just feels right. C’mon, you can open the presents with me.” You explained as you tugged him along, leaving him a little jittery. He thought about pulling out a cigarette, but figured it wasn’t the right place to do it.

He felt a little lost but slowly grew more and more keen on what was happening. It was still a lot to process, but it felt right being there by your side. You were clearly excited despite everything that had happened. He was grateful that you were so open, that you didn’t hold a grudge against him.

“Where are you living at?” He asked instead, curious as to whether your living situation had changed or not. You were still living at home the last time he checked. He was slightly nervous, wondering if someone else had slipped into his spot. 

“Still with my parents,” You admitted as you shrugged your shoulders, “They were upset, but they’ve come around.” Your lips were pulled into a smile, looking less than worried. Apparently things had been fairly well for you.

“They probably hate me.” He said a moment later, sure that it was true. He couldn’t see how they wouldn’t. He had practically left you. You snapped your eyes up towards him. 

“Hate is a strong word,” You told him quickly, “But yeah, they’re not the happiest. Especially dad.” You explained slowly as you continued to rub at your baby bump. 

“Great,” He mumbled as he placed his hands in his pockets, “I’m really sorry.” He breathed out slowly, knowing his apology was more important than everything else. He meant it too. He shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

“You just disappeared,” You started slowly, “I thought you were gone.” Your voice was soft, full of hurt and distress. He felt his throat tightening, burning as he thought about how much he missed you. He was a fool to ever stray away from you, to leave you on your own. 

“I thought about it,” He told you honestly, knowing there was no point in lying, “I don’t want to be like my dad.” He replied at last, getting down to the root of the issue. He didn’t want to accidentally lash out at you or at your future child. He never wanted that for him. It would be better to be alone. 

“You won’t,” You told him quickly, sternly as he exhaled deeply, “You’re not like your dad. I promise you.” You cupped his face softly, your hands smooth and gentle against his skin. He leaned against you, craving the feeling. 

“What if I lose control?” He asked at last as he drew his eyes over your features, taking in the way you were watching him. You sighed deeply as you rubbed your fingers across his skin. You looked deep in thought as you pressed your nails gently against his stubble. 

“You never did that at your swimming classes,” You reminded him, “You should come stay with me. Move in. It would be good for our baby.” You moved your hands to his neck, then to his shoulder and down to his hands. You gripped them slowly, pressing them against your growing tummy.

He stalled for the longest time, blinking slowly as he felt like the world was freezing around him. Underneath your skin he could feel your baby moving. He gulped, eyes wide as he felt the smallest smile curling against his lips. He exhaled deeply as he looked towards you again. 

“I don’t know.” He replied nervously as he felt his heart hammering roughly inside of his chest. He chewed on his bottom lip, thinking that it would be easier. He’d be closer for you, for the baby. If he was really going to do this, he needed to be near you. 

“You don’t have to marry me or anything,” You started, “Or be with me if that’s what you want.” You said sheepishly, looking embarrassed as you quickly looked away. He felt his heart shatter a bit again, worried that he had truly hurt you. 

“You have someone else?” He asked at last, worried that you had moved on. He had done wrong, but he really did love you. You were the only one he was passionate about. He wasn’t sure how to move on if you had found someone else. 

“No,” You responded with a smile, “But I just want you to be happy. Even if it’s not with us.” You nodded your head, but looked like that was hard to admit. He didn’t want you to be alone. Not anymore. 

“You make me happy,” He said at last, “We’ll work this out. I promise.” He said as he brought your hand up to his lips, savoring the feeling of your skin against his mouth. He closed his eyes, feeling very regretful. He wouldn’t lose you again. 

When he returned home he felt odd, but not like he had in the past few months. He didn’t drink away his feelings, or drown his anger out with music. Instead, he worked on packing. He wasn’t going to be like Neil; not at all. He was going to be there for you. He was going to be there for his son. No matter how scared he was. He couldn’t let either of you down. 

“Where are you going?” Neil’s voice made him jump, surprising him as he paused with the article of clothing in his hands. He turned slowly, looking at the way Neil was leaning against the door frame. He had his hands crossed tightly over his chest, his eyebrows furrowed together tightly. His features were stoic, like he was deciding whether he should be angry or not. 

“I’m moving out,” He said as he turned away, shoving the clothes back into his bag, “I uh, found a place.” Billy replied slowly as he finished zipping up his bag. He wondered how much he’d really be able to take with him. Probably not much if his dad got angry. 

“You moving in with that bitch?” Neil tilted his head up as he spoke, like he was trying to make himself taller. His eyes were sharp, cold as his gaze cut into Billy. He felt sick as he gulped harshly, trying to keep his tone at bay. 

“Don’t call her that.” Billy responded hotly, feeling defensive of you. You weren’t anything like that and you were letting him back into your life; just like that. You were everything and more to him and he wasn’t going to let Neil speak ill of you. 

“Is the kid yours or some little bastard?” His lip curled up in disgust as he spoke, his features filling with disappointment. Billy didn’t care. He was going to be happy with you. He wouldn’t be like Neil. Not ever. 

“Mine,” He said roughly, “And don’t you ever call him that.” He snatched up his bag, taking his few items with him as he moved forward. Neil scoffed as he shook his head, irritated as Billy pushed forward.

“She’s going to ruin your life,” He grumbled as he gripped Billy’s shoulder, holding him in place for a moment, “And don’t even think about crawling back. I won’t have you.” He said threateningly, like he might change Billy’s mind.

“I won’t come back.” Billy promised, stern with his answer as he walked past him. He wouldn’t let his son suffer the same way he had. They both deserved better than this. 

The rest of the months passed breezily, making him come to terms a little easier as your due date approached. He had done a lot of ass kissing, pleading and groveling until he got back on your good side. He brought you flowers every day, rubbed your feet after work and gave you plenty of kisses.

You complained about how you looked as the final weeks approached, but he thought that you looked beautiful. Stunning. In his opinion, you were glowing. He loved rubbing your tummy too, feeling like he got a deeper connection that way.

Your labor was messy, a little chaotic. Billy was terrified something would go wrong, but stayed close to you regardless. By the end of it, his hand was numb and his wrist aching from how tightly he’d been gripping you.

“Look at him,” You breathed out as you held the little boy in your arms, “He’s so cute.” You sniffled, looking like you were seconds away from breaking down again.

He stared and stared, memorizing his son's features as he came to terms that he was a father. He had a little boy, someone to take care of. He looked so fragile, so tiny. It made him nervous. He was fearful that he’d accidentally hurt him by holding him wrong, or by dropping him. He wasn’t sure how his rough hands were supposed to hold something so soft. 

"Billy," You breathed out quietly, making his throat grow raw as he stared down at the little boy. Soft blonde curls and the same sloped nose he had. Everything else about the little boy reminded him of you, "Are you crying?" You asked gently, making him feel even more emotional as he shook his head. 

“No,” He said hoarsely, doing everything in his power to keep from breaking down, “S’just a lot.” He mumbled as he wiped at his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he tried to calm himself down. His hands were shaking, his heart thumping roughly inside of his chest. 

“I know,” You replied softly as you sat up a bit, gesturing the bundle in your arms towards him, “C’mon. You’ll feel better.” You reassured him, but he still felt hesitant. He pressed his fingertips together before he nodded, accepting the little baby from you.

Names hadn’t quite been figured out yet, but that didn’t matter at the moment. He looked healthy, his cheeks full and fists clenched together as he stretched his arms out. Billy felt a small chuckle leave his neck, fighting over the sob that was threatening to burst free.

He suddenly couldn’t remember why he had been so nervous, or scared. As his son curled against his arms it felt natural, like he already knew what he was doing. He savored the warmth, the way the little baby cooed as he adjusted him in his arms. Everything felt right suddenly.

“I won’t let anything bad ever happen to you,” He promised as he kissed his little head, sighing deeply as he snuggled his little son towards him, “Not ever. I promise.” 

[worldlxvlys]

listening

part 5 of the CRUSH series

bsf! matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttt, p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, orgasm denial, cream pie, squirting, cursing

a/n -> read the previous part for context!!

hope you like !!

matt must have been driving pretty quickly, as his usual ten minute trip to my house was shaved down to five.

he didn’t say anything, letting out a quick “i’m coming in” before hanging up.

i don’t even know how it was possible, but he was in my room less than a minute later.

neither of us made a move, both of us just staring at the other. every action that we took prior to this moment was based off of our desires.

this was the first time that night that we were actually stopping to think about what we were doing. this wasn’t just anyone, it was matt. we flirted often, but i never expected it to go any further than that.

i knew it was wrong, wanting him like this. but i also knew i wouldn’t be able to help myself, not after seeing the faces he makes with his hand wrapped around his dick. the thought of that alone made my legs clench together while he walked towards me.

my breathing picked up slightly as he leaned over me, his hands on either side of my body. his face was only inches away from mine when he spoke up, “are we- is this okay?” he asked, eyeing my lips.

“yes, please matt. you can do whatever you want to me” i told him, grabbing his hand and guiding it to my thigh. “anything?” he asked in confirmation, his fingers sliding under my skirt.

“yes, matt. just fuck me, please. need it so bad” i whined while he swiped his finger through my folds, collecting my arousal.

“so fucking wet, bet you taste amazing” he whispered, bringing his wet finger up to his mouth and tasting it. his eyes rolled back and he let out a low moan, “of course you do”

he hooked his finger under my jaw, pulling my lips to his in a slow kiss. i moaned at the taste of myself on his tongue, tilting my head to deepen the kiss.

my head flew back when i felt his finger poking at my entrance teasingly, before moving to my thigh. “matt, please. no teasing” i sighed out while he trailed kisses down my neck.

“didn’t you just say i could do whatever i want?” he spoke, his lips tickling my skin. “yeah, but-” i started, quickly being cut off by him, “no buts, you don’t have to do anything. just sit there and take it” he spoke as he pulled down his sweats and boxers in one swift motion.

his thick, veiny dick sprung free. it was red, covered in pre-cum, and it was so hard it looked like it hurt.

he pushed my skirt up, bunching it at my waist to expose my heat to him. “look at that pretty little pussy” he whispered to himself, spreading my thighs apart.

he began to rub his tip up and down my folds, dipping it into my entrance momentarily before taking it out. he did this over and over again, watching while i squirmed underneath him.

i was a whining mess, hand slapping over my mouth while he continued to torture me. “rub your clit” he ordered while he continued to grind himself against me. i let out a long moan when i followed his instruction, my free hand gripping the sheets next to me.

“matt, i’m so close” i cried out, clenching around nothing. “hold it” he spoke, pushing in just the tip.

“i-i can’t, matt. please, i-” i cut myself off with a loud moan when he pushed himself in fully, without warning. “you can take it. hold it” he spoke as he began to thrust into me quickly.

i was about to move my hand from my clit, finding the added stimulation to be too much, but matt spoke up before i could, “and don’t move that hand either. this is what you wanted, right? take it”

my eyes screwed shut, teeth digging into my lips as i tried desperately to hold off my orgasm. “eyes on me when i’m fucking you, princess” he said, my eyes flying open in obedience.

“you’re such a good listener when you want to be, baby. we’re gonna have to work on that attitude though, aren’t we?”

i nodded my head in response, was he implying that this would be happening again?

he hooked his arms around my thighs, lifting them up to thrust into me at a different angle. his dick brushed against my sweet spot and i was gone.

“fuck, fuck, fuck matt!” i screamed as i released all over him, my body shaking under him. i clenched around him, making him cry out in surprise as thick spurts of his cum shot inside of me.

he continued to thrust into me sloppily, eliciting several high-pitched moans from me as my juices spilled out of me and onto him. after a few more thrusts, he pulled out of me carefully.

“fuck, you’re on the pill, right?” he asked as he watched our combined pleasure drip out of me. “yeah, and now’s a fine time to ask” i spoke.

“yeah, well maybe if you had actually listened we wouldn’t have had to worry about it” he said, squinting his eyes and flashing me a sarcastic smile.

“not my fault you got horny and decided to screw your best friend” i countered.

“what’s that you were saying again? matt, please ! please fuck me! need it so bad ” he spoke in a high-pitched voice, mocking me.

“shut up” i fought the smile taking over my face, rolling my eyes at him. he leaned forward slightly, making me move back until i was laying down.

“that’s funny, you seemed to like how i was talking to you a minute ago. eyes rolled back, toes curled, when was the last time you squirted like that?” he asked, tilting his head at me.

he gave me a pointed look, waiting for an answer. “i haven’t” i admitted, “that was the first time”

a wide grin quickly grew on his face at that as he picked me up bridal style. “matt!” i yelled in surprise, “where are we going?”

“to take a shower” he spoke as we made our way to the bathroom, “and make you squirt again. we wouldn’t want your first time to be the last, would we? ” he spoke, his cheeky grin never leaving his face.

yeah, that was far from the last time.

the way i already know what i’m doing for p6 😋

masterlist

tag list: @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @readerakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @nickgetsmewetter @meg-sturniolo @yamamasjumpercables @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07 @breeloveschris @luverboychris

[asapeveryday]

Fuck The Freshmen (1/2)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Media girl!reader

Warnings: swearing, sexual references, paige is slightly ooc

Summary: Paige seems to be paying a lot of attention to this years freshman, but what you don’t realize is she pays attention to you too.

A/n: not sure if I should do a second part to this or leave it as is..also I got a couple requests for media girl shit so I hope this is good!! I’ll prob do more involving a media girl reader in the future

“Girl… stop staring like that.”

“Shut up, I’m not.” You nudge your friend in response, not taking your eyes off of the people in front of you.

You and your best friend had both had an interest in sports throughout childhood, so when the opportunity to become media girls came up at the University of Connecticut, a school with amazing sports teams, you both took the chance.

Since freshmen year you’ve grown a lot with the D1 Women’s Basketball team. What started as an awkward beginning had blossomed into a family-like relationship with most of the girls, and you had learned a lot in the past four years. Taking pictures during games had been the best part.

You’d gotten so good at it, by senior year you were appointed “student manager” of the media team, basically meaning you ran social media’s and were able to be as hands-on as possible.

Another thing nice about being a senior was mentoring. Just like the players on the Huskies, when new additions came to the media team you enjoyed teaching all the freshies your ways. None of them were as close as you were with the girls, for the most part.

“Wow, this one actually goes hard.” Paige’s voice rings through your ears. She’s leaning into one of the freshmen students, peering at her camera.

“Wait go back to that one. Shit, that’s good. That deserves to go on the instagram.” Paige says, ruffling the girls hair and patting her back.

“Thanks! Means a lot coming from you.” The freshie replies. You watch as the girls face turns pink at Paige’s contact with her. You listen as Paige showers her with endless praises.

“Seriously (Name). Stop gawking at them.” Your friend flicks you.

You shake your head in disapproval. “When I was a freshmen i barely interacted with the team, let alone the seniors.”

Your friend raises her eyebrow. “You sure you’re not just mad that Paige is all over the kid?”

“Super-senior Paige is gross, I’ll say that. But whatever, it’s not a big deal. I was just observing.” You grumble, hating to watch those two interact but unable to tear your eyes away.

“You’re in denial.”

“Pfft, I couldn’t care less.”

Paige’s eyes turn to meet yours, and you quickly look away. You can feel her smirk radiating, even as you turn to leave the gym.

“I’m gonna go get a snack.” You mutter. Your friend just nods.

As you walk to the vending machine outside of the gym, you feel your stomach twist at the thought of the scene earlier. You wish you didn’t care, but you’re all too familiar with the feeling of jealousy.

You pick out your favourite from the machine, but as you’re about to pay you hear a familiar voice.

“Lemme get that for you.”

Paige is behind you, and she pays for your snack before you can object.

“You didn’t have to do that.” You say.

“I wanted to though.” She shrugs in response. Paige looked good as always in her Huskies tracksuit, hair braided and tied back in her usual ponytail. Eyes blue and constantly searching your face for a clue to what you’re thinking. Sometimes even observing your body. “Didn’t take many pictures today, did you?” She asks.

“I don’t take pictures of random practices.” You roll your eyes, she’s supposed to know this but obviously doesn’t.

“Me and the others were brainstorming, and the freshmen got to test out action shots with the cameras.”

“You’ve got some good talent on your team with those freshmen, huh?” She smiles. You almost want to punch her. Paige is taunting you.

You decide to stay unbothered, even though your body is feeling hot with either anger or arousal. Usually it was both with her.

“Yep.”

She raises an eyebrow. “The teams gonna be in good hands when you graduate.” Paige smirks again, an awful know-it-all smirk.

“I want to get to know the freshmen better, since I’m staying another year I feel like I should be closer with them.”

“And how do you plan on doing that, Bueckers? You gonna fuck your way through the whole media team?” You quip. So much for staying unbothered..

She’s startled for a moment, but recollects herself by saying “I would if I could. You wanna go first or last?”

“Eat a dick.” You snap

“Kiss my ass.” She replies.

“I’d rather die.”

Paige scoffs.“You know you’ve thought of it.”

“You’re so fucking cocky.”

“And you can’t admit that you want me.”

You truly seethe at that.

“God, you think everyone wants you. Get a grip.”

“Well I don’t care about ‘everyone’ I’m just tryna get you.” She groans, as if it’s common knowledge.

“If you think I’m the type of girl who’s just gonna let you hit and then carry on with my life then you’re more stupid then I thought.”

“Ion’ know where you got this little idea that I just hoe around, but it needs to stop.” She finally says, no longer joking. She’s basically cornered you against the vending machine at this point. There’s nowhere to go, and if you weren’t so worked up you would’ve felt frozen by her gaze.

“Have you heard the way you talk to me, Bueckers? You don’t talk to anyone else like that.” You cross your arms.

Paige rubs her face, embarrassed. “Because you freak me the fuck out. I don’t know how to talk to you, and you’re just so cute when you’re mad. I can’t help it.”

You say nothing.

“I fucking hate seeing you talk to the others like you’re best friends. I hate the fact that you never talk to me. I don’t know why I fuck it up when you do, you’re just different.”

“Different?”

“Yeah. You’re something else.”

The two of you just stare at each other now. There had always been an untouched tension between you and Paige. The others dismissed it as banter, but you were never quite sure.

“Just don’t lie and say you don’t think about me.” Paige finally says. “I know you think about me. I see the effect I have on you, ma.”

She cups your face with her hand, letting her finger graze over your lip. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime before she whispers. “Can we go?”

“And the freshmen?” You cock your head.

Paige gives you a fierce look. “Fuck the freshmen.”

[literaila]

it's not my fault

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument

warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents

last part | next part

*

year five.

“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 

you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 

they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 

but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 

megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 

you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 

they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 

tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 

“i wasn’t mean.” 

“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 

“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 

“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 

megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 

“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 

“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 

“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 

“i’ve never complained—“ 

“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 

tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 

usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 

but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 

sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.

but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 

this seems… different. 

a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 

you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 

and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 

with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 

it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 

satoru would do it if he was here. 

“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 

“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 

really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 

you make a mental note to look it up later. 

you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."

you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 

in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 

“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 

they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 

but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 

“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 

and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 

but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 

“you told her not to talk to you!” 

he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 

you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 

“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 

“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 

“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 

you turn, “megumi—“ 

“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 

and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 

“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 

tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.

“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 

“maybe.” 

“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”

“guys—“ 

“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 

“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 

“why are you always—“ 

“guys.” 

they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 

you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 

why would they when they can just keep arguing?

you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 

really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 

harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 

plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 

“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 

“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.

you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 

“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 

it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 

you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 

you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”

“break,” megumi says, immediately.

“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 

for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.

“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 

they both glare at each other. 

“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 

tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 

you both look at megumi, waiting. 

he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 

“megumi.” 

he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 

“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 

you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”

you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 

he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 

tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 

you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 

both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 

you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 

the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.

“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 

megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 

“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 

“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 

okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 

“chiyo's my friend!” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 

“but you were mean.” 

you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 

“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“

“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  

you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.

“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 

“maybe they just suck.” 

“they don’t suck. this is—“

and then it all breaks down.

“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”

you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."

the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 

he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 

"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 

"by yelling at each other?" 

you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 

you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.

megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 

their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 

tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 

but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 

"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 

and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 

but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 

you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 

you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 

and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 

so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 

she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 

it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.

"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 

"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 

he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 

he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 

you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 

"we're communicating." 

"whatever."

satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 

"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 

"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 

"and neither will your parenting skills." 

satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 

"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 

satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 

"satoru." 

"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 

you look at him blandly. 

satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 

obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.

satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 

you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 

*

you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 

it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 

but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 

and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 

still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 

but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 

you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 

satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 

"well, i taught him that." 

satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 

"of course you didn't." 

he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 

"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 

"who?" 

you frown. "chiyo?" 

satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."

you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  

satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 

"behind her back?" 

satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 

"oh." 

"yeah, oh." 

you frown. “what did they say?”

satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”

satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 

you shake your head at him, tsking. 

you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 

so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 

it's a very unpleasant feeling. 

"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 

"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 

and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.

after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[is-the-sky-blue]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRETS (PT 3): GOJO SATORU & GETO SUGURU

Synopsis: When you have questions about physical intimacy Satoru and Suguru are quick to answer them.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, satosugu x fem!reader, pet names, praise, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving), finger sucking, penetration, unprotected sex, allusions to first times/ virginity loss, mentions of alcohol (nothing occurs under the influence), cum eating, marking, overstimulation, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, very slight degradation (reader is called slut once, affectionately)

Part 1 Part 2 >Part 3<

It was then, after a few months they spent thoroughly stretching your pussy, before they even dared to answer one of your dirtiest little questions.

"What would it feel like if you fucked me" 

But that wasn't only a question you posed but many of the other students on campus. You could hear it in the little slivers of conversations your eavesdropping ears picked up on when you walked over to the two boys as they waited outside your classroom, wanting to all check out a cafe that just opened up, Satoru's sweet tooth itching to try out the abundance of pastries and desserts. Your feet hitting the tiled grounds as you approached them, catching faint whispers of adoration as onlookers marveled their beauty, and at times you couldn't ignore the feeling of pride that you'd get knowing that those pretty lips people murmured about have touched yours, on multiple occasions.

When you were sitting in the lecture room awaiting your professors, you could hear poorly whispered words as girl's squealed, flushed faces speculating just how long both boy's were, trying to correlate it to their height and hand size and while their imaginations were left to run wild you sat there with an exact approximation in your head, knowing that while they talked about solely length width was an overwhelming factor as well, while Suguru would be considered decently long compared to the average size his girth was jaw-breaking while Satoru hit length out of the park with how absurd he was, he'd hit the back of your neck and still not be fully inside your mouth.

It was these piece by piece dirty confessions you picked out upon, and you could find yourself mentally answering almost every question you came across, while people wondered how they talked in the bedroom, you could hear their words in your ears as you recounted the countless filthy things they've spewed, while people pondered if they took aftercare seriously or just walked after they fucked, you were being coddled in bare arms while sitting in a porcelain bathtub knowing full well that if you weren't comfortable after they made you orgasm it only meant they were going to force yet another round out of you.

While you could find yourself knowing the response to every query, there was still one that left you stumped, what would fucking them feel like. Obviously you could speculate, knowing full well the answer would be mind-blowingly good, but your aching cunt could only clench around their fingers so much while you pretended it was actually their cocks.

You had it all, they gave their everything to you and yet you were still greedy for more, hungry for them to scratch this itch deep in your guts, answer one of your few unanswered questions you always barraged them with.

It was a question that hung over your head, flooding your brain even when you didn't call for it.

The night air bit at your exposed skin, coating you in a cloak of frost as your teeth chattered, arms wrapped around your torso to try and preserve your warmth, the sky swathed with darkness as not even stars could shine, the neon signs of the bustling building behind you and the many other buildings with bright lamps creating too much light pollution for the pin pricks to dot through.

The loud thumping bass shook the pavement beneath your heel clad feet as the music barely muffled behind the pulsing plaster walls, lingering scent of alcohol wafting through the opening and closing doors as bodies motioned past you, bright headlights of cars pulling up to the curb as group after group of party goers dressed in skin tight outfits rushed to get inside.

You were no exception, the short baby pink bodycon dress you wore hugging your curves in delicious ways as your slowly blistering feet slightly bounced to the rhythmic beats behind you, the rustling of foliage sending shivers down your spine as a gust of wind tussled through your still somehow immaculate hair, the squishy space of the club's dance floor doing little to disturb the look you curated at the start of the night.

"Hey (L/N), you doing alright," and you turn towards the door, staring at the face of one of your upperclassmen. his short cropped hair hanging to his sweaty forehead as the scent of booze carried with him as he approached/

"Yeah," you nod, trying to plaster on a smile over your tired face, not expecting the night to turn out this way as he stood a couple respectful steps away from you, "just waiting on my ride."

"What!" he gasped, "you leaving already," he exclaimed, "you didn't even get a drink in your system," he said it as though it was a crime, "c'mon we got a student discount, I'll even buy you one if you're short on cash, or even if you are... high on cash, my treat," and he reached for your arm, perspiring palm tugging on your wrist but you take a step away, yanking yourself out of his weak drunken grasp.

"I'm really okay," you politely decline with a shake of your head, and you could feel your phone start to vibrate in the small glittery clutch you held tight to your chest. Quickly you flipped open the clasp and took the device out, bright screen illuminating your face despite the brightness being turned significantly down, the buzzing of a familiar caller ID bringing a smile to your lips as you pressed it to your ear.

"Hello," you start, tapping your finger against your case.

"We're almost there," he said instead.

"It's the nightclub down on 7th right," and you realized that his phone was connected to the cars audio system as a second voice spoke up.

"Mhm," you nod, staring up at the street sign that stood tall, on a metal pole stuck in the sidewalk, a couple meters down, illuminated by a flickering lamppost, assuring the man for the second time that night that he hadn't got your location incorrect, and from your other ear you could hear your peer continue to talk.

"Well alright then," he sighed, "do you want me to walk you home at least, it's getting late," he offered and yet again you shook your head.

"I'm getting a ride, remember," you reiterate, shifting on the balls of your feet as he leaned against the planter pot of the large hedge beside the two of you, trying to keep balance on his drunken feet.

"Who are you talking to love."

"No one important," you reply dismissively.

"Oh yeah," he laughed from beside you, "silly me," he grinned, "do you want my jacket then, you seem pretty cold," and you could suddenly feel his eyes rake over your body, making you squeeze your arms around your torso a little tighter.

"I'm okay," you mumble, averting your gaze before biting at your lip, whispering into the phone "please hurry," you shiver, goosebumps prickling over your skin.

"Only a few blocks away," he reassures and you could hear the accelerator hum even through the phone.

"Are you sure you ain't wearing much," he comments and you shake your head.

"No I'm perfectly fine," you stand your ground, eyes lighting up as you watched a familiar car skid to the curb, pulling to a stop in front of you and the passenger side door flung open even before the vehicle's engine shut off.

White hair puffed against his head, feet stomping as they hit pavement and quickly you were covered in a warm coat, hands draping the fabric over your shoulders and you could hear the click of the car lock from over his shoulders, spotting the bright head lights turn off and another pair of quick paced shoes approach.

"Finally found you pretty girl," Satoru whispered into your ear, hands running up and down your frigid arms, forcing the warmth from the woven fabric into your limbs and couldn't help but ogle at the droop in his shirt as he leaned down to stare into your eyes, the first few buttons of his dress shirt undone, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest, tops of his pecs peeking out as he flashed just the right amount of cleavage. "You like what you see," he teased, capturing your wandering gaze and you brought an all too cold finger to trace his collarbone, his warm hand instantly capturing it as he tried to heat up the appendage.

"Mhm," you sigh, letting careful hands take your bag from you and you smile at the sight of his dark hair, inky locks rivaling the sky as it framed his grinning face.

"Oh uhm," you could hear a drunken slur and Satoru is pulling you away by the shoulders, moving you flush to his chest as he shared his body heat, eyes glaring at the boy who gaped at the scene, eying the two men who were quick to coddle you, "I guess I'll be going then," he mumbled, brows furrowed and you didn't meet his gaze as you opted to nuzzle into Satoru's warm skin, his fingers gently tucking a strand of hair behind you ear.

"Yeah you will be," Suguru replies as his loitering feet don't shift to leave, the boys mouth wanting to ask you yet another question but the dark haired man's words keep him quiet as he straightens his posture.

"S-see you later (L/N)," he calls out to you, not sparing a second glance as his alcohol imbued form stumbled back into the building, leaving you hearing Satoru murmur 'like hell he will' into your scalp as Suguru's hands find your waist.

"Thought you were gonna hang out with a bunch of people from your department at the pub, how'd you end up here," he murmured flipping you around so you were facing him, your back to Satoru as he leaned to speak gently into your ear and you couldn't help but relax into his touch. "Did you drink," he asked, your all too pliant form making him worry, hands running up your sides and you shook your head. Not bothering to answer his initial question as you shut your eyes.

"No," you whispered quietly, taking in a breath as you let their body heat warm you before you are blinking up at them. Satoru was dressed in a sultry little top tucked into his dark jeans, as Suguru stood beside him, in a form fitting black tee, that you knew was the one you bought him, his high waisted baggy pants a stark contrast that accentuated his figure perfectly, and you could tell the coat on your shoulders was the last finishing touches to his outfit. "Did you?" you asked, fingers, carefully reaching up to toy with the long hanging earring from Suguru's ear, leaning back to rest your head on Satoru's shoulder, watching as the glass gem glinted beneath the moonlight.

"Nah," Satoru mused as Suguru leaned into your touch, moving downward, and soon you were cupping his face, running your thumb over his cheek, "we were just browsing the night market," he explained and you couldn't help but smile, "got you a couple gifts," he tacked on, relishing in the excited glint in your eye.

"You didn't have to."

"Didn't have to, but we wanted to," he hummed, keeping the coat that threatened to slip off, pinned to your shoulders with his hand. "You look stunning tonight," his tone was low as he murmured into your ear, a compliment only for you to hear.

"Absolutely breathtaking," Suguru mused, slightly wetting his lips as he let himself freely explore your body with his eyes, admiring the art piece that was you, "that dress looks really good on you," he compliments, knowing that you enjoyed being told the outfits you've picked look perfect, but instead of basking in his words you had something else you were focused on.

"It'd look better on your bedroom floor," you teased, running your hands over the bone of his jaw, feeling it clench ever so slightly at your comment as he leans to press a kiss to your cheek.

"Oh really," he mused, "so that's what's happening," he grinned, fingers sliding down to cup your ass as Satoru slid up, thumbs running over the skin just beneath your boobs, "does my baby have a little problem she needs us to deal with," he asks, hands gliding dangerously low as you roll your hips back, staring up at him through your pretty lashes as though you didn't just make Satoru hiss at the sensation.

"Mhm," you sigh, leaning your cheek against his shoulder, "started missin you," you murmured, memories of standing the bathroom beneath the fluorescent lights as you broke away from the sweaty atmosphere, the dance floor full of grinding bodies as the upbeat songs turned more slow and loving. The dance floor no longer being a place for you as the soft murmurs and kisses around you made you only think of them, wishing that they were there with you to sway their bodies to the beat alongside yours, wishing that they were there to plant kisses along your neck beneath the dim lights. Suddenly your lips are pulling in a pout as you tilt your head back, "take me home," you plead, doe eyes big and round.

"Course baby," Suguru's murmuring into your skin, taking one of your manicured hands in his as he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, "want us to take care of you tonight," he asks, catching that oh so familiar needy glint in your eyes.

"Yeah," you are sighing and soon enough they are dragging you into the car, Satoru sliding in the back seat alongside you as Suguru reluctantly took the drivers spot and you purposefully sat in the middle seat, Satoru sitting behind the passengers spot as you both remained in perfect view of his purple eyes. The stark silence a beautiful contrast to the muffled thumping from the club, the quiet cushioning the pent up stress that grew throughout the night.

"Wanna tell me what happened," Satoru hums, the plush leather seats sticking to your bare thighs as your dress began to ride up, and you make no effort to pull it down as the white haired boy leant over your body, chest brushing against yours as you caught whiffs of his expensive cologne, the seatbelt clicking in place as he carefully fastened you in before sitting back in his spot, buckling himself in as you rested your head on his shoulders, the throbbing of your fluttering walls growing unbearable as you felt his hand on your bare skin, the car beginning to reverse, gear shift clacking into place as Suguru pulled out from where he was parked, the steady hum of the wheels against the asphalt a nice lull, "how'd you go from the pub to a nightclub," he chuckled, eyes alight with intrigue as he ran the heat of his hand over your skin.

"Well," you sigh, hand sliding atop of Satoru's hand forcing it palm up as you fiddled with his fingertips, "originally we were going to stay there for the whole night like I told you because they booked a big table," you started, "then they wanted to play drinking games nd stuff, you know like truth or drink, they even played a version of spin the bottle but if you didn't want to kiss them you had to take a shot," you could feel Satoru's hand squeeze yours tightly at the comment.

"Thought you didn't drink," Suguru murmurs from the front, and you could spot the way his knuckles turned white on the steering wheel, red illumination from the lights painting his face as he turned ever so slightly to face you.

"I didn't," you huff out a laugh, their steely expressions amusing, "I just went to the bathroom" and you could hear their collective exhale and it made you laugh, "you guys act like I'd wanna kiss anyone besides you two," you snicker as the car moved forward, the metronomic click of the turn signal humming as the vehicle switched lanes.

"Well I dunno, maybe you wanted to explore other options," you could hear the boy beside you grumble and you shook your head in disbelief.

"Why would I when I have the two best options."

"Yeah it'd be stupid to give that up," and soon you are smacking Satoru's shoulder at his remark, grinning at the way he laughed before you continued your little story.

"Well anyways I guess my classmates like to dance when they're drunk because then they kept dragging me to different clubs, that's why I kept texting you," you murmur, referencing the 4 different locations you had ended up sending into your trio's groupchat, keeping them updated to where you were as though you didn't let them track your device 24/7.

"You know that's not safe right," Suguru's tsking from the front seat and you pout, down cast eyes staring at the way you caressed Satoru's fingers, "how'd you guys get to all these different clubs anyways."

"Car," you mumble guiltily.

"You only have one close friend that I know went with you, and she can't drive, and we dropped you off to the pub," Suguru is eying you through the rear view mirror and you tense, "did you get into a stranger's car."

"It wasn't a stranger," you combat, "my friend knew him."

"Him," Satoru bites and you recoil a bit, knowing full well you were in the wrong.

"M'sorry," you murmur, "just didn't want to be the only one in my class not going," you confess, "but that's why I kept texting you where I was."

"I know," Suguru sighs, "but still."

"Next time you should just take us with you," Satoru cocks a grin and you furrow your brows with an incredulous laugh as even Suguru snickers.

"I couldn't do that you clingy freak," you snort, "it was only for members of my department."

"Guess I'm having a career change."

"Satoru," you giggle again, their carefree smiles loosening the tenseness in your chest as he squeezed your linked hands, shutting your eyes.

"But did something happen," Suguru calls your focus, "It's not that I mind, but why'd you call us to pick you up, seems like all your classmates were still ready to party," and his words reminded you of when you sat in the pub.

The dim lights casted long shadows along the worn wooden table strained from years of use, the warm illuminations burning from the wide bar chandelier, painting an orangey glow over the laughing faces of your peers that sat along the ever-stretching booth. The thin cushions of the seating pressed uncomfortably against your butt as it went slightly numb, forcing you to shift every so often as you did your best to appear interested, staring at the wide variety of half empty pints of beer and other liquors as you sat uneasily with your glass of water that most assumed was vodka or something along the sort, it didn't help that you didn't deny their false accusations, sipping lightly on the liquid as though it was an alcoholic beverage.

Loud voices boomed throughout the space, as wait staff paid no mind to your rambunctious group, that was wracking up quite the tab with round after round of drinks and appetizers with no real interest in buying actual meals.

"Say (L/N)," the woman who sat in front of you hummed, her painted nails tapping against the glass of her cup as she eyed you with particular interest and you nodded in acknowledgement, focusing your attention on one of the few people that took the time to spark conversation, your one close friend sitting to your right currently engaged in some other riveting talk, "you are friends with Gojo and Geto right," she mused, the clink of her tapping fingers against her cup calling your attention.

"Oh, yeah," you prove her question correct, "we've been friends since we were kids," you tack on to fill the silence that tried to make things awkward.

"Cool, cool, cool," she nods dismissively, clearly uncaring towards your little anecdote and you felt slightly skeptical about her intentions, "have you ever," she trails off, "been intimate with them," she bites her painted lip.

Huh?

The topic of her speech seeming the catch keen ears as one of the girl's sitting next to her darted her eyes in your direction, alight with curiosity.

"I mean yeah," you tilted your head slightly confused, "we hug and stuff," you weren't going to tell her that they've finger banged you on multiple occasions.

"No that's not what I mean," she shakes her head, "like sexually intimate," okay you sure as hell weren't going to tell her that, not when you barely knew this chick.

"Oh my god," the woman next to her gasps, face flushed as she grew beyond tipsy, liquor loosening her lips, "have you fucked them," she giggled making you recoil at her bluntness, "I mean if I was friends with them I'd at least try and ask," she smiles, eyes wandering off and you didn't dare to wonder what she was thinking, "they are so fucking hot."

"That's what I'm saying," the girl who initiated the conversation nodded along, "like they are super tall too so they've got to have like the whole package down there right," and she's looking back at you and you were staring into your drink, taking an awkward sip of your water.

Yeah they had the whole package, at this point they were the delivery truck full of packages with how absurdly big they are but you wouldn't say that, no chance in hell, you only hummed in a neither yes or no way as the two drunken girls fantasized about your friends.

"I can only imagine how it'd feel to be fucked by one of them," and that had your interest peaked, the question that lingered in the back of your brain forced to the forefront yet again and it hung with you all throughout the night.

"I missed you," you tell the two boys for the second time that night, shaking out from your thoughts, "people started kissin and then I started thinking bout you two, started wishing you were there, wondering what it'd feel like if you were dancing with me, grinding like everyone else," you confess shamelessly before fidgeting with Satoru's thumb as you felt him kiss your temple, reminding your cunt why she was crying in the first place, "when I was at the pub and even when I was at the club people kept bringing you up," you confide, pursing your lips as their eyes sparked with intrigue.

"Were you shit talking us love," Satoru playfully squeezes your hand and you shake your head with a laugh.

"I could never," you muse and you untangle your hands to carefully lift up your earrings to lessen the weight, your lobes slightly beginning to hurt, "only shit talking I do is to your face," and Satoru is reaching to undo the jewelry, "don't do that it makes me pretty," you protest but he shakes his head.

"Gorgeous the earrings only look pretty because you are the on wearing them," he flirts, sliding the gems out on both sides before placing them both in the purse he still held in his lap.

"Don't lose them."

"I wont," and he's pinching your cheek, "but what were your classmates saying then hmm, only good things I hope," the white haired boy continues as you lean into his touch.

"Very good things," you murmur, "kept filling my head with thoughts of you," and you brush the fabric of his white button up open a little wider before staining his peck with your lipstick, the vibrant colour a stark contrast to his pale skin, "that's better," you muse.

"Very good things," Suguru's imploring, "care to elaborate," and you can't help but bite your lip at the question, feeling your pussy pool just at the filthy thought.

 "They kept wondering how good it'd feel to be fucked by you," you say almost as a whine, thighs squeezing ever so slightly as Satoru's playful gaze grew a little more hardened, "made me start to wonder too," and your hand is tracing the dip of his collar bone as you could hear Suguru suck on his teeth, the accelerator humming.

"Did my baby's pussy get wet," Satoru cooed teasingly, hands sliding to your legs, tapping your knee and you oblige, spreading your legs wider for him, letting the fabric of your dress slip up higher against your hips as his fingers brushed just beneath the hem, dancing over your thigh.

"Mhm," you nod the tiny circle he rubbed on your skin only making your walls flutter, clenching yet again around air, "I don't want to wonder any more," you murmur, leaning into Satoru's touch, meeting purple eyes in the mirror.

"You want us to answer your question pretty girl," Suguru coos.

"Uhuh," you sigh, Satoru's warm tongue licking up the column of your neck.

"Want us to fuck you," his murmurs against your skin, "show you how good it feels," and you whimper.

"Can you do it now," you whine, his fleeting touches fueling your lust as he refused to dip beneath your dress and feel where you ached for them most, yearning for them to take you right then and there.

"Patience pretty," Suguru hums, "my girl deserves to be fucked comfortably yeah, not in a cramped little car" 

"Wanna make love to you," Satoru coos so gently it had you melting, "want you to see all of you while you cry on my cock," he murmuring, his hand holding your head as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, "it's too dark to see all your pretty little faces." 

His lips pampered over your skin, preoccupying your greed with tiny unfulfilling kisses that only drove your hunger higher until you were finally pulling into the parking garage and he pulled away, staring at the painting he left on your neck as he unbuckles you, Suguru opening the side door and he helped tug you out.

It was quiet, your walk to the elevator, the chime of it's arrival never sounding sweeter as the three of you entered and you partially expected them to pounce right then and there but nothing. Suguru's hand was intertwined with yours but they didn't touch you, even when you pushed to your toes to press your lips to his he only gave you a sweet peck, "patience," he cooed yet again and he pressed yet another unfulfilling kiss to your pouting lips, "don't want anyone else to see the pretty faces you make," he's murmuring as he pulls away.

"There's nobody here," you grumble, annoyed as your aching core sobbed. He tugged on your linked hands, pulling you towards your apartment as the doors open and Satoru is punching in the code irritatingly slow as you shifted, impatient, "please," you whimper as the lock flicks open and before your eyes could register it your back is slamming against the door, feet stumbling into your genkan before hungry lips are on yours.

It's hard to process the sheer speed you were manhandled inside so you don't, closing your eyes as you melted into Suguru's lips, the feeling of another lingering set of hands, groping your flesh making you dizzy as he slipped his tongue inside, devouring you. You could hear the coat that once rested haphazardly on your shoulders clatter to the floor as you lifted your arms, snaking them around his neck, pulling him closer.

His lips were warm, soft, plush against yours as you zoned in on every last sensation his lips elicited, lightly sucking on your tongue before caressing it sensually with his own, your back bruising as he pinned you against the wooden door as he fidgeted and you could hear the clack of falling shoes but your strap lined heels prevented you from slipping them off so easily. It felt as though you could feel his heart beat against your chest, breaths moving in tandem as he pulled away, eyes hooded as he stared down at you with unfiltered lust before he's moving aside and you're being kissed again, nose nudging against yours before he angles his head in a way he learned to do after many years of practice, warmth fluttering from your chest to your core as he sang against you while Suguru took the time to suckle the tender flesh of your neck. You couldn't help but sigh at their actions, tongues licking gently as they explored already mapped out territory. Satoru's tongue waltzed in a little pre practiced dance and you nibbled slightly on his lip, knowing how to get that little grunt out of him. It felt surreal, his touches, they were all too familiar but just different enough, lingering with just a little more force, a little more greed. His hand slipped down to cup your thigh, lifting your leg up and resting it upon his hip and you could feel yourself grow dizzy.

Yes, you've kissed them both before but not like this, not once in your entire life had Satoru ever lifted your leg like this while the two of you kissed and they both seem to notice. "You like that baby," Suguru voices for him as Satoru squeezes the supple skin of your leg, teasing between kisses and you could only whine into his mouth, feeling his crotch alarmingly close to your pelvis. It felt hot... there was no other word your slowly muddling brain could conclude other than that, he was against you in a way he's never been before, his fingers pinching up your dress, letting it ride to rest atop your hips, panties exposed and you could feel the tent in his pants begin to grow as he rubbed.

"Aren't you wet sweetheart," 

"Fuck," you whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he broke from your lips, crusade continuing down to your neck, head on the side Suguru has yet to mark.

"What's wrong love," he says it so innocently, but you feel him brushing over you, brushing right over your clit and your hands are fisting the fabric of his shirt, heart beating erratically and you are hyperaware of every last one of his touches. His touches that are leaving you air bound.

You yelp, surprised as he forces your weight against the door and he's reaching to grab your other thigh, forcing them both onto his hips, your cunt against his torso and you could feel the protrusions of his abs through the thin material of his shirt. You instinctively wrap your arms around his head that lifted to connect your mouths once more, Suguru's hands at your back as he pushed your weight forward, leaning you onto Satoru and you entrusted your entire weight to him that he carried easily, beefy arms snug against the plush of your thighs and up the curve of your ass.

You break off with a pant, brain fuzzying as you feel yourself move, a click and suddenly the dim expanse of your apartment is basked in a glow as his body rocked, carrying you effortlessly. You expect it in your brain to meet the soft mattress of Satoru's bed but you are violently made aware otherwise as you flinch in his hold as your warm skin met cold countertops. "Shh baby" Suguru is kneading your thigh as Satoru settles you down, granite or marble or whatever the hell they decided to line the island with, chilling your flesh.

"S'cold," you murmur as Satoru unravels himself from your arms and you can't help but admire the pink imprint of your lips peeking out on his chest.

"Don't worry we'll warm it up," the white haired boy promises and he tugs at your legs while Suguru presses down on your shoulder, forcing you to lay flat against the counter, lights above your head, that they refused to flick on lest the bulbs blind you, so they settled for the warm glow crossing over from the light they turned on earlier that lit the back lights of the living room that connected to the open concept kitchen.

"What does that mea-" you want to question but your lips screw shut the moment you felt pressure on your desperate clit and you underwear is being lifted, pulled taught, falling against your legs in a thong like manner and he's teasing the fabric between your folds, nudging your bundle of nerves.

"Isn't she glistening," Satoru's breath fans over your bare cunt and your walls are fluttering once again, making you roll your hips in desire.

"You'll get what you want princess," Suguru muses, holding you down by your hips as he leans to stare into your pillowy folds, watching as your slick dripped in your pussy before the fabric of your underwear is snapping down, making you flinch at the sensation, back arching slightly as you whine, hands curling into fists.

"You're leaking through your underwear," Satoru comments and you could feel his thumb run over your now cloth covered cunt, the sensation making trickles of anticipation thrum up your thighs that tried to close. "Keep 'em open," he scolds and you could feel all the fight leave your lower half as he pulls your legs wide, feet planting on the top of the counter as he spread you as open as you could get, and he's smacking your cunt again, relishing in your mewl.

"Dirty girl," Suguru hums, "my pretty little slut likes getting her pussy spanked huh," he muses and you could feel yet another sharp stinging pain slamming against your clit, the strange stimulation making you wince as pleasure dribbled in, the nickname he called you making you squirm, "my baby's getting so wet," and another slap.

You could feel your chest heave, eyes bleary as you propped yourself up on your elbows only to want to throw you head back yet again at the sight of the two hungry eyed men between your legs.

Hot breath fanned over you and you couldn't help the way you whined yet again, little tuts at your impatience as they began to suckle on your thighs, grabbing the flesh between their lips as Suguru took the left while Satoru took the right.

Their mouths were hot, saliva coating your skin as the varying sensations made you writhe, Suguru biting down, teeth marks indenting into your skin before his tongue is soothing over the pain like a healing balm while Satoru burrows, lips sucking hickeys onto your flesh, keen on leaving a little art piece as he sucks, and sucks, and sucks, and sucks, the sounds of his lips making you quiver.

You couldn't help but cry out as they continued their attack, forcing yourself to succumb to underwhelming pleasure as they left your throbbing little cunt untouched and she starved for attention, dribbling as she called for them and you felt ashamed at your body's innate response.

Small pants left your kiss bitten lips as they marred your legs with their little love bites, edging closer to the rim of your pretty pink panties, tiny little bow on the waistband. "I want you," you murmur as they teased, not kissing the one spot you desperately craved.

"You have us baby," Suguru hums slyly, sucking a bruise into your skin as his thumb rubs small circles.

"I want you here though," and you slightly lift up, hands reaching for his as you brought it to your cunt, rolling your hips over his fingertips and he smiled as they grew slightly damp.

"Aren't you needy," he snickers, letting you lightly hump his hand, flattening his palm against your clothed cunt as you squirmed your hips, the heel of his hand ever so slightly nudging your clit.

"Please," you whine, "want more."

"Clearly," Satoru is grinning, straightening his posture to look into your desperate eyes, "such a horny girl," he coos, "been thinking of this all night haven't you," and he can't deny the pride panging in his chest when you nod vehemently.

"Want you," you whine as Suguru swats your hands away, fleeting touches rolling your clit, doing nothing but enticing you more.

"You've already said that," he grins, mouth a babbling broken record as you begged and his fingers are toying with the waistband of your panties, pulling them slightly down, "tell us what you want, hmm, what do you want us to do," and you could feel your face flush, his familiar words reaching your ears as he tugged down your underwear tantalizingly slow.

"Wanna have s-" you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a calming breath as they stared at you, "want you to fuck me," you murmur out instead, somehow feeling less dirty even with the more vulgar word but your hesitance only further fueled their desire for you to say it.

"Fuck you how," Satoru grins, "want my to fuck my fingers into your cunt, hmm, make you cum and then call it a night," and he practically cackles as you mewl pathetically, teary eyes gazing up at him as though the thought of one orgasm alone was heinous.

"No," you sob, feeling the cool air hit your dripping cunt and Suguru is flinging the fabric elsewhere, leaving it to be found in the morning as now, his eyes trained on you, and you alone.

"Then what do you want baby," Suguru murmurs, leaning over you to press a kiss to your collarbone, "use your words and explain clearly or we won't know," he hums, vibrations thrumming down your torso and you couldn't help the heat that pooled just by looking in his dark eyes.

"I want you," you murmur, their brows furrowing in disapproval, squirming at the light pinch on your thigh and so you continue, "want you to have s-sex with me," you fumble over the word, confession falling leadenly off your tongue, "want to make love," you say gently, recalling the sweet way Satoru murmured it to you, "want you to put your cock in my," and you gulp, feeling embarrassment creep as you felt ashamed for not being as ashamed as you should be for uttering such filthy words in front of the two boys, "in my pussy," you mumble. 

"I would've just let you have it at sex," Satoru teased and you flush before he licks a stripe up your cunt, groaning at the taste.

"S-Shut up," you mumble in faux protest and his head pops up from between your thighs with a smirk.

"Gladly," and before you can even question him he's diving into your cunt, tongue lapping up your juices and you whine, not used to the sensation you've felt countless times at this point, your head is spinning as he practically makes out with your pussy, tongue delving in, pistoning itself into your cunt and you try to breathe through it, letting out every last moan knowing if you didn't you'd be denied any form of relief for hours. The torturous thought of being thrown over Suguru's thigh as he smacked your ass, until it bruised while Satoru would chime in every once and a while with a wet slap to your cunt, yet again making you squirm. 

You could feel the heels on your feet release as Suguru undid the straps quickly, fingers working in ways you struggled to do, often opting having him put your shoes on for you as it took too long for you to pin the strap correctly and he always did so for you without complaint, kissing your upper thigh and now he did the same, shoes dropping with a clatter as he pressed a kiss to the tender flesh of your hickey marred thighs until he leans even further to your dripping slit.

You mewled until you were moaning at the sudden foreign feeling. "S-Sugu," you breathe out, eyes wide as you felt his lips suckle at your clit, making you shudder, both their mouths on you, both sets of eyes on you, one leg thrown over each of their shoulders as they tugged your cunt closer to their greedy mouths.

"You like that, don't you sweetheart," Satoru mocks, "could feel your pussy clench," and you furrowed your brows.

"I said shut up," you whined and before you knew it your hands were acting on their own, reaching for his head, tugging him down by the air and forcing him to your cunt, keeping him snug against your pussy and you writhed as he groaned, pretty blue eyes looking up at you hungrily.

"That was hot," Suguru comments arbitrarily grazing his teeth over your little button, flicking it with his tongue and you squirm before you are removing one hand from Satoru's head to reach for his and he smiles before leaning closer, letting you thread your fingers into his long tresses, before you are forcing him into your clit.

Your legs slightly burned from the stretch, one resting on Suguru's left shoulder while the other rested on Satoru's right, their heads burrowing into your pussy as they drank up every drop, tongues lathering before Suguru is popping off you clit to lick at your folds, cheek pressed cutely against Satoru's as they slurped you up and then.

You couldn't help but tug harshly at their hair, surprise overruling you as you whined, their mouths soon joining, tongues delving into each other's mouths as they shift their focus from you to each other before soon going back to you.

You could feel it, their tongues brush against one another between your velvety walls and you couldn't help but squirm at the thought.

The small little knot began to grow in your stomach as they continued, sloppily kissing your cunt until she was drooling in their mouths, puffy clit whining at the sensation as Suguru's nose nudged ever so slightly against it, grinning at the way you gasped, their mouths melding against your pussy in a way that could only be described as perfect, slotting against one another like two, or rather three pieces to a puzzle.

"Sugu, Toru," you warn, feeling your tummy warm as your thighs spasmed, heels digging in between their shoulder blades as their heads prevented you from closing your legs, toes curling as you grabbed at their hair, Satoru whimpering against your cunt prettily the harsher you tugged, his sounds only further fueling the tightness, "m'cumming," until it was snapping, light orgasm washing over you like waves lapping at the sea but you spilled, essence leaking over their awaiting tongues as they devoured you in earnest, you could feel your chest heave slightly as they lapped up, taking turns suckling at your slowly overwhelming clit as they continued their ministrations.

You are panting, squeezing your eyes shut as you rolled your hips, their mouths helping you ride out the last ripples until you finally are out of the blissful feeling and now watching the two boys kiss, dancing precariously as they grunted, tasting you on their tongues and it only made you gush even more.

"My girl looks so pretty when she cums," Suguru coos, pulling from Satoru's mouth, sheen lining his lips all the way to his chin, hand untangling yours from his now disheveled hair, the style he tied it in now loose as strands fell out and he pulled you to sit.

"M'sorry," you mumble, raising to toy with one of the fallen locks and the laugh he lets out makes your tummy turn as Satoru stands only to lean into Suguru's embrace, arms encircling his waist as he let one warm hand planted against your thigh, "your hair is all messy."

"That's okay," he purred, kissing your temple, "if it didn't come undone now it'd come out later," he grinned, teeth grazing that sensitive spot on your neck he found many moons ago and you are holding his head close, basking in his warmth as you caught your breath and you could hear a metallic zip and suddenly your dress loosens, "but let's take this off now, yeah," he muses pulling away as Satoru finishes the job for him, pulling up the fabric that gathered atop your hips, shimmying it off your head as your boobs fell into place and you redden at Satoru's whistle.

"A set," he chuckles deeply, "did you plan for this," he muses, the pink lacy bra you wore the same colour as the panties now abandoned elsewhere.

"Yeah right," you murmur as the white haired boy pressed a kiss to your lips once more, a chaste little brush before he ogles you so unabashedly it makes you embarrassed, his hand lifting from your thigh to gently grope you, thumb running over the flesh that filled the cup perfectly. 

"You feeling okay," Suguru hums, caring gaze locking with your own and you knew what he was truly asking, could you keep going.

"Mhm," you sighed, tugging at the hem of his shirt, "m'not stopping until you've fucked me," you beam up at him, pulling him close so you could rest your head onto his chest, listening to his heart beat before staring up once more, "take this off" you yank yet again at his shirt before pulling at Satoru's as well, "I don't want to be the only one naked," you shift, feeling your slick begin to wet your thighs.

"Then take it off for me," Satoru smirks, tugging you to stand on the floor, your feet falling flat as you stared up at the two men who crowded you, body pinned between their torsos and the counter behind you. Carefully you reach out for Satoru's shirt, untucking the fabric before trying to work on the first button, focusing intently, blatantly unaware on how Suguru suckled Satoru's fingers for him as Satoru's sucked on Suguru's, soaking their digits with spit.

Undoing the very first button you felt a sharp intrusion in your cunt before two fingers were in your pussy, legs widening ever so slightly to accommodate their digits only to realize that each finger belonged to a different hand.

You mind felt blurry for a second at the thought of having both Suguru and Satoru in your cunt at once. "W-what are you doing" you whimper, biting back a gasp as their fingers worked in tandem, ramming deep into your gooey cunt as you fisted the fabric of Satoru's shirt.

"Just having fun," Suguru hums innocently.

"You just focus on what you're doing," Satoru grins and you jolted as he pushed against your g-spot.

"Fucking assholes," you squeak, feet pulling to their toes as you tried to lift off their now relentless attack, but they only followed you, sinking deep inside.

"What was that baby," Suguru coos, heel circling roughly over your puffy clit and you throw your head back with a groan, feeling electric spikes shoot beneath your skin but you try to focus on your own fingers, trying to pry each button open as they quickened their pace, forcing your toes to curl as you squeezed your eyes shut, teeth clenching as you whined in their grasp.

You wished you could just rip open his shirt but you couldn't, not with your mind puddling so quickly but to be honest even if they weren't pounding relentlessly into your cunt you wouldn't be able to regardless.

You tried to ignore the, pap, pap, pap, of your ass smacking against their hands, pace turning your legs to jelly as you tried to hold out strong, Suguru's hand on your waist, the only thing truly keeping you up as you whined out with every thrust.

"C'mon baby, thought you wanted me naked," and you shot a glare to the white haired boy who leered down at you sinisterly, grinning at the pretty little 'o' face you made as he added yet another finger, scissoring you wide. "What," he's laughing, "if you want my cock you'll have to be able to handle this much," his words sang teasingly, keen on messing with you as you struggle to undo his fourth button .

Your fidgeting fingers fumbling as you narrowly forced his shirt open a little more, his toothy grin adding fuel to your determination, even if their brutal digits was melting it quickly, as Suguru decided to join in on having two inside your cunt, as four fingers plunged deep inside your dripping pussy, body shaking in their hold as you grunted, your bra strap going loose as it slipped down your shoulder. You felt like you were melting against their insane speed, the wet, shlick, of your cunt pushing heat to your face as your breaths grew warm.

You squirmed, hips quivering as you tried to break free, but they continued their assault on your g-spot, slowly blurring eyes staring up at them as your head fell back, their conniving little smirks making you pant as Suguru leaned down to shove his tongue into your moaning mouth, suckling lightly on your tongue as he laughed at the feeling of your inability to kiss back.

"What's wrong baby, don't you want this pesky shirt off," Satoru is snickering, picking up his speed even further and you're whimpering pathetically, your cunt throbbing with wet sobs and you could feel yourself dribble down your thighs much to Suguru's amusement.

"Makin a puddle sweet girl," he's rasping so gently, "squeezing my fingers so tight," he murmurs and you try and steel yourself, pushing past your bubbling moans as you fiddled with the last button on Satoru's top, legs slowly burning as tingling ecstasy enveloped your entire form, sheer bliss threatening to consume you as your lower belly fluttered incessantly, the once foreign feeling of an orgasm slamming into you as they pulled you closer to the edge and then the button finally pops off and that overstuffed feeling is leaving you with one final thrust.

Your trembling chest shook with a heavy sob as your dewy eyes stared up at them with disdain, "w-why," and Satoru is shrugging off the sleeves of his shirt, tossing it aside as your doe eyes plead, walls clenching nothing but air as your shoulders shuddered with each cry.

"Good girl," Suguru hums into your scalp, petting your hair as he brings you into a hug, a warm embrace as he ignored the loosening knot in your stomach, the fuzzy feeling going stale and tears are welling in your waterline, falling in small streams.

You glare teary eyed, your anger pathetic as Suguru held you up so you didn't collapse to the floor as Satoru ever so kindly rips off the dark haired mans tank, revealing his rippling muscles, but even the sight of his god like physique doesn't quell the aching in your core, "m-more," you are whining, chin resting on his collar bone as you cried, "w-why'd you stop," you mewl, reaching for Satoru's hand but he wrestled in away, grabbing you by the wrist as he tilted his head oh so innocently.

"What's wrong baby," he coos so condescendingly, wiping your tears with his other hand and you only let out yet another cry.

"I was almost there," you whine, "why'd you stop." 

"Stop what," Suguru soothes, murmuring the words in such a way you almost thought you were crazy and he's settling you back onto the countertop, stepping between your legs to steal a kiss, "what's got my baby so sad,"

"You!" you exclaim with a whine, hand weakly swatting at his chest, "I was almost there, was gonna cum," you whimper.

"Oh really," Satoru muses, as though he didn't feel your walls flutter as he drove you to the edge, "m'sorry," he grins so unapologetically, licking off one of your tears before plunging his fingers knuckle deep again, force making you stutter as you gasp, short quick thrusts pounding before pulling out again much to your chagrin and his amusement, "did you cum this time," he teases, saying it as though he doesn't know the exact way your pussy squeezes and your hips rolls every time you bask in your orgasm.

"Y-You're so mean," you whimper, cheek resting against Suguru's peck as he kneads the flesh of your ass, abruptly picking you up, clit rubbing against his abs and you whine. 

"Awh my poor baby," he coddles you, cradling you in a close embrace as he pressed a kiss to your scalp, "let us make it up to you yeah," and you writhe with each step he took, your aching pussy running over his hard muscles as your overstimulated clit but still desperate cunt cried out for even more.

He splays you out on a soft mattress, settling you so gently instead of tossing you roughly as he's done many times before, letting the bed squeak beneath you before ravaging you roughly, but today he's much more tender with each of his movements, lips nipping at your neck as he unclasps your bra with practiced ease, tossing the garment aside as both of them dive for your chest, taking one tit in their mouth as they toyed with your nipples.

You hiccup at the sensation, cunt sliding against Suguru's still pant covered thigh as they sucked on your breasts gently, taking it at their own pace and you sigh with every roll over their tongue, fingers in their hair, relishing in the way Satoru bites down with a hiss at every tug, his sensitive scalp fun to tease and you groan as they coat you.

Suguru pulls at your nipple before letting it jiggle back into place, staring up at you, fingers collecting your slick as he pushes them in with languid thrusts, greedy hole taking every ounce of attention he gives, "are you ready," he murmurs tenderly, carefully, the teasing tone he once used as him and Satoru mercilessly attacked you no longer lingering as he held you gently, trying to quell your fears.

"Please" you mewl, rolling against his thigh as you stare at the two of them desperate, "I want to feel you," you whine, eyes pinching shut as he circled your clit, "please just fuck me," you beg pathetically and his adam's apple bobs as he stares at your vulnerable form, naked and sweaty, covered in little marks of adoration as your dripping little pussy pooled over the sheets.

"Are you sure," he mumbles with uncertainty, "we can make you cum again," he offers, eyes swimming in hesitance, careful words greeting your ears, "stretch you out for as long as you need," and he's wiping at your stray tears .

"Don't force yourself if you aren't ready (Y/N)," and Satoru uses your name, the syllables sounding foreign on his tongue as he grew accustomed to using an abundance of praising pet names.

"I want it," you assure, hands cupping both their faces, "I promise I'm ready," and it's you quelling their fears, "just," you pause, "go slow," you plead and Suguru smiles so gently it had you puddling in his hands.

"Of course," he sighs, "if don't like something I'm doing, say green," he starts and your eyes widen slightly, "if you want me to slow down or stop, say yellow, okay," and you nod, he was telling you safe words, laying out the ground rules, "and if you need me to stop completely and remove myself, say red, alright," and his tone is serious, no playfulness as he stares deep into your eyes, making sure you were paying attention, "you got that," and you nod, "words."

"Yes Sugu," you mumble, heart beginning to thump at his tender care.

"Promise to use them if you need to all right."

"Yes."

"We won't be mad," Satoru tacks on, eyes swimming with worry and you find yourself puffing out a laugh.

"You guys are acting like you'll break me, I'm not made of glass," you beam up at them, their toned muscles not scaring you off, "besides I know you won't hurt me," and their affectionate gaze had your heart skipping a beat.

Carefully you watch as Suguru unbuckles his pants, fabric dropping to the floor alongside his boxers, and he's staring at you, your chest rising and falling as you admired his dick, it was long and thick and the thought of it going inside your cunt had you quivering.

Satoru is gently cupping your face, hand grasping one of yours as he soothes you with soft kisses as Suguru's fully erect cock sprung painfully hard, his own member going ignored as he pecked your stress pinched face, "we'll take care of you," he's murmuring into your skin, coaxing out your strangled gasps as Suguru rubs himself over your slit, coating himself with your slick, his pre breading on the tip mixing with your mess as he nudged your clit shaking a whimper that Satoru attempted to calm.

"I'm going to put it in," he tells you, lining his cock up at your entrance and you nod, feeling a strange anxiety that Satoru instantly soothed only for the unease to wash over you, waves of nerves crashing into the shore before he forced them back to the sea.

"Okay," you murmur, eyes trained on his and then you felt it, an undeniable delicious stretch as his tip dips inside. "Oh fuck," you yelp, hand reaching out to intertwine with Suguru's holding both his and Satoru's tightly as they grounded you, tethering your mind as he pushed in, head inserting as you bite your lip, breathy mewls breaking past your parted lips as Suguru halts, letting you take in the feeling.

"Good job baby," Satoru is humming, licking at your chest as it huffed, your fingers tugging at Suguru's and he slowly pushes in further, your pussy squelching as he groaned, brows pinching as your velvety walls were snug around him, enveloping him tightly in your warmth as you clenched.

"Fuck sweetheart," he curses, "squeezin me too tight," he grunts, sweat building on his brow as your greedy walls took him in deeper, accommodating him quickly as he pressed kisses to your cheeks, staring at the way you slowly came undone, your trembling fingers shaking in his grasp as your flushed face whimpered, lips parted as you cried.

"S-sorry," you murmur out and he's shaking his head.

"No baby girl you're doing so good," he grunts as your gummy walls clamp down, "taking me so well, making me feel so fucking good," he groans feeling you flutter, his praises soaking you further.

"Making you feel good," your pouty lips ask as though you were questioning your own abilities and he's pressing a kiss to them

"Amazing," he reiterates, punctuating the syllables as he delved in deeper, strained grunt falling from his lips as he relished in your sinful moan.

"How much more," your stressed, eyes coating with a fresh sheen as you stared at both their faces, his dark hair falling down in a dark waterfall as pink lips sucked on your perky nipples and pressed kisses to your neck, distracting you from any pain as Suguru halted and you could feel every last ridge of his dick inside of you.

"M'not even half way," Suguru confesses and you are mewling. 

"Fuck," you curse, "why are you so big," and the comment makes him swell, twitching in your cunt that instinctively squeezed in response, eliciting yet another breathy grasp from his lips

It burned as he stretched you out wider than both their joined fingers ever have, it felt like your cunt was aflame but their touches were cold, soothing your skin. The little circles Satoru rolled over your nipples had you hiccupping as you tried not to writhe, scared of somehow taking in too much all at once.

"Focus on your breathing baby," Satoru's voice is light in your ear as Suguru pushes in further, the air in your lungs struggling to circulate.

"I k-know but," you are whimpering, trying to calm this feverish feeling as all your focus stuck right to where you connected with him, and to think you were scared to masturbate at some point, "fuck, fuck, fuck," you groan, tears spilling from your eyes.

"Do you want me to slow down," he's asking from above you, his arms caging you in, securing you in a little cocoon and all you could feel was them, no other sensation processed in your bleary mind as you shook your head.

"No," you gasp, Satoru's hands running over your waist as Suguru gently strokes your cheek, "J-just keep going please," you choke, your plea forcing him deeper, "if- if," you pant, "if you don't do it now, I don't think I ever will," you whine as he nudges your g-spot, high pitched moan breaking past you lips and your back is arching, forcing your tits into Satoru's mouth as you begin to see stars, "p-please."

You were begging so beautifully for him, his cock inching inside slowly as your hands slipped from his, to fisting the sheets beneath you as you cried, he so badly wanted to snap a picture to never forget this moment, wanted to live in this sensation forever as you weeped, squeezing him tightly while his other lover suckled you so tenderly, showering you with affection. He could feel his heart constrict, the sight making him jump at the painting beneath him, hair blocking his peripherals as all he focused was on you, watching the way your face contorted, pain overpowered by pleasure as you sobbed, taking him deep within you.

"P-Please just, ngh- oh fuck, p-please just give it to me," you whimper, hand reaching up for his head and he leans into your desperate touch, falling onto your swollen lips as you tried to kiss him, forcing your desires into his mouth as he groans, your lips sucking him in just as greedily as your lower lips and he's bottoming out.

It was an easy thrust in, your soaking walls hungrily opening for him and you're moaning, gasping, writhing as you feel his balls rest heavy against your ass, "Suguru" you are mewling his name so prettily, your hips rolling, cunt squeezing, and he's soon realizing a small orgasm is washing over you, a tiny little coil snapping but it was an orgasm nonetheless, your hips grinding against him as you cried out, heavenly chest heaving and they stare at you in awe, watching as you writhe on his dick, feeling you clamp down impossibly tight.

"Did you cum pretty girl," Satoru is grinning, staring deep into you with a lovestruck gaze and your face is burning as you nod bashfully.

"Mhm," you murmur, lip wobbling as you catch your breath and Satoru is unclenching your fists from the sheets, slithering your hands over his shoulders.

"Don't be afraid to scratch his back baby," the white haired boy coos into you ear and Suguru could feel you physically tighten at his words, making him grind his teeth.

"I- don't want to hur-"

"You won't hurt him," Satoru is reassuring you and he could feel Satoru's lithe fingers unclench your white knuckled fists, trailing your nails over the toned muscles in his back, "if any thing it'll make him feel better," he's blowing a gust of air over the warm shell of your ear and you are squirming, clit rubbing against his pubes as his pelvis is snug to your body, legs resting on his hips as he stands fully inside you, letting you feel every last inch of his hardened dick, letting you cockwarm him as you cry, nails raking down his skin in pleasurable little stings.

"S-Suguru," you continue to cry, feeling unbearably full, the curve of his dick rubbing right against your g-spot, every jump of his dick making your breaths stutter. The longer you waited the longer you still felt stuffed, you expected to grow accustomed to it but be was pressed deep inside your cunt, rearranging you to fit him, molding you perfectly to his size as you sweat, feeling droplets slide down the curve of your neck as you stared deep into his hooded, purple, eyes and finally you understood what people meant when they said bedroom eyes, his dark gaze sending pinpricks up your skin.

"Is he deep inside you baby," Satoru is humming, thumb brushing your falling tears, blue catching yours with a deep seated lust.

"Mhm," you whine, biting at your lip as you stare at the lipstick mark staining his chest, watching as it rose and fell with every breath, eyes trailing to the hardened member springing in his pants, he was horny because of you, he was horny by watching the two of you, it had you dripping. 

"Where do you feel him love, all the way in here," and his long hand is pressing at your stomach and you're gasping, palm pushing you deeper into Suguru, forcing your walls to contract ever tighter and perspiration is beading off his brow, lips trembling as he grunted from above you, the pressure of Satoru's hand against you both sending the two of you spiraling into overwhelming sensations. "How does she feel, huh Sugu," he's breathing against the shell of his ear, leaning up to tuck dark locks away from his face, "she squeezing you tight, bet she's warm and wet," he's pressing a kiss to Suguru's jaw, making you mewl at their chaste kisses, a devastatingly sensual film portraying in front of you, as Satoru peppered kisses down his neck, hand slipping dangerously low to where you joined and your thighs shook, trembling as you cried out, his long finger circling slowly over your abused clit, toes curling as Suguru's deep growl had you sobbing into the heated air.

"Satoru," you're whining, his languid little rubs turning your tummy as you sat perfectly tight around Suguru's aching cock, the realization feeling surreal.

"Don't you feel so good baby," Satoru continues, "don't you want to feel him move," and his thumb is tugging at your lip, prying it from your teeth, "c'mon put on a show f'me," and you are nodding, gushing at the thought of him enjoying the sight of you two.

"Sugu please," you beg, eyes alight with desire and who was he to deny your calls, gently rolling his hips, watching as you wept , pulling out ever so slightly before filling you to the brink once more, shallow thrusts filling your drooling pussy.

He was slow, lazy little thrusts delving into your cunt but you moaned at each one, gripping onto him tightly, pulling him close as he filled you. "There you go love, taking me so well," he's praising, kissing away a tear, hips slapping against your thighs, flesh reverberating as he took you tenderly, gathering every ounce of self control not to pound into you and make you scream out his name, your gummy walls sucking him back in, crying for him to come back with every inch he takes out. He was mesmerized, his dick coming out wetter with each thrust, sloppy little cries of your dripping cunt shaking around the room as you squelched for him, every little thrust had him grunting, your sucking hole keeping him tight, refusing to let go even if you knew he was just going to stuff you up once more.

"Oh- ngh," you were crying, mixture of moans and sobs as he hit your g-spot with every last thrust, hips angled as he purposefully shifted in such a way, maximizing every spark of pleasure dripping from your cunt. "Suguru," you were whimpering and he twitched as you said his name through those puffy lips of yours.

You felt out of breath, each shove of his hips knocking the air right out of your lungs and while you listened to Satoru's soft words, the overwhelming waves of satisfaction knocked all reason out of your brain each time, he was hitting you soft and slow but made your nerves wrack with pleasure all at once, it was ethereal, your expectation of pain was overshadowed by his soft grunts, sweat beading on his brow as his dark hair swiveled with each overpowering thrust. You could see it in his face, the foreboding lovestruck gaze as he gave all of himself to you, vulnerable and weak, he let you witness him bare with no restraints, the mind muddling words he whispered into your ears, praises upon praises making you gush with no remorse as wandering hands groped and pinched earning whimpers and whines.

Your chest was slick with saliva, white tufts of hair peeking into view as he suckled so intently, murmuring kind sentences as he fueled your never ending lust, his heart thumping erratically as he stared into your unfocused eyes, watching as you succumbed to the pleasure eating away at your nerves, every last reservation flying out the window with they way you erotically moaned and writhed, nails raking down Suguru's back as you tried to grapple onto your sanity, legs curling, feet pressing on his ass to force him back in, ravenous for his touch, to feel remarkably full.

Satoru could only snicker at your faces as he pressed his hand down onto your stomach, admiring the was you hissed, droplets spilling further down your cheeks as they pleasured you to lengths your mind could not comprehend, you had heard about bad sexual experiences but this was far from one of them, their carefully curated words and precise touches making you shudder and with each grip of your cunt Suguru groaned.

"S-Satoru," Suguru choked out, feeling you try and squeeze the life out of him, "you want to have a taste," he's offering, eyes swimming with unfiltered adoration as he fell in love all over again with not only you, but your body, your ability to make him feel such sensations without even trying. "Do you want that baby, huh," he's growling from above you, "want to let Satoru feel yo- oh fuck-" he grunted, words catching in his throat as you grip impossibly tighter, "guess you like that idea," he's grinning and you're panting, one hand coming to stroke at his reddened cheeks, your eyes pinching shut as he slammed into you once more.

"Just a little longer," you whine, "I won't c-cum yet, but f-fuck me a li-little longer," you plead, glassy eyes turning to stare at Satoru as you clung desperately to Suguru, "w-wait please" you whine, not wanting to let go, you wanted them both, wanted to try both their impossibly huge dicks but you knew that if you let Suguru go now you wouldn't feel him for the rest of your night, you knew that whenever your orgasm inevitably crashed upon you, you'd be out of the game so you had to force yourself to hang on, keep yourself from falling off the cliff.

"Love on Suguru as much as you want baby," he's whispering into your ear, deep drum of his voice sending pin pricks up your skin, "I don't mind," and he flashes you a bright toothy grin ,"I'll be here when you're ready", and you are thankful he's so understanding, that even with his greedy tendencies he was so willing and patient with the two of you, so respondent to your needs, so eager to share, happy to sit back and watch while he let his hands roam, touching your plush skin to his hearts content, feeling him already begin to grow love drunk off of merely hearing the symphony of songs his two lover sang into his ears.

You smile at him so tenderly it has him leaning in for a kiss that you struggle to reciprocate but bathe in nonetheless, letting yourself be showered in their abundant affections and as he pulls away he almost loses it on the spot as you begin reeling, eyes rolling back as you moaned loudly, large, smack, reverberating as Suguru pulled his entire length in before driving inside with such force your entire body trembled, body jerking  as your back arched and then he's doing it again, forcing you empty before ramming right against your g-spot, hitting it so perfectly that your limbs begin to melt, fingers grabbing and flexing, no longer knowing what to do as shockwaves rippled out through your figure.

"Oh, fuck -god Sugu, Suguru," you are crying, arms snaking around his neck to pull him into a tight embrace, rolling hips never ceasing as he's flush against you, chest to chest as Satoru toys with your hair, kisses touching your forehead as you try to find some form of clarity in the jumbled mess of your vision.

"You like that my pretty girl," and he's doing it again, your entire body quaking as you jolted, "pretty pussy squeezin me every. single. time." and he's punctuating his words with pistons of his hips, thrusts slow but rough as he kisses you so tenderly you were malfunctioning, his touches light but his thrusts monstrous.

"Sugu y-you hafta stop," you're writhing, clawing at him as Satoru started rolling your clit, pleasure attacking you as you whined, "m'gonna cum, gonna," you tearfully admit as Satoru is licking off the salty rivulets.

"Then cum baby," he whispers, "let go for us."

"B-But."

"Let Suguru feel you pussy clench around him as you orgasm, yeah pretty girl," and he's rolling your clit quicker, forcing you to the edge and the, pap, pap, pap, of Suguru's thighs hitting your ass echoed out into the room, the wet shlick and whimpers of your cunt sending your vision fuzzy as hands tweaked and rubbed.

"I-" you whimper as Suguru pushes you to your unbelievable climax, legs shuddering as you begin to fall, knot snapping, waves crashing, lights flickering beneath your skin, bulbs shattering from the growing heat and you are orgasming, cumming harder then you ever had before as he's undoubtedly fucking you through the sensation, hips rolling as he groans and you could barely hear a word, sinful noises falling deaf upon your cotton plugged ears as electric currents swam out from your dripping cunt.

Your toes are curling, fingers pulling into fists, as you shudder, dissolving into your crashing orgasm, white lights clouding your vision as you gasp quietly, lips parted in a silent scream as he rocks you over, and over, and over again, body tingling as you ride it out before suddenly you are, groaning, whining, mewling, pornographically moaning, sound after sound spilling from your lips as your sudden high begins to slow, but his hips are moving, he's moaning above you and you could feel him jump, dick jerking ever so slightly as his thrusting hips are chasing his own high, pace frantic before there's a stutter and he's cumming, your hips rolling against his as you slowly fell while he was at the peak.

It was hot, thick spurts filling your cunt and you could only clench as you milked every lost drop, taking everything he gave you as he filled your ravenous cunt, greedy gummy walls sucking until he had nothing left to give and he's panting, chest heaving and the two of you are left, heavy breaths filling the space as you pant in tandem and you shudder at the wet feeling of Satoru's tongue, lapping up your mixed juices.

"Suguru you're are spilling," he coos against your skin, tongue slurping before he's kissing up you body while Suguru's lips are hot on your own. 

"So good baby, so fucking good," and they fill your bleary brain with consistent praise but despite your cunt aching she was still greedy for more, and so your hands are leaning for Satoru, palming the large tent staining the front of his pants wet.

"Mo-More," you are gasping.

"Pretty girl don't push yourself," he's grabbing your fingers and you shake your head at his concerned blue eyes. 

"Satoru give it to me, please," you whimper, "please, please, please, fill me up," and Suguru is chuckling from above you, kissing your cheek before he's slowly pulling out, but your legs constrict around his torso, body and mind fighting as your greed wanted to give you Satoru but your cunt refused to fall empty.

"Baby," Suguru's cooing so gently, "let me go yeah, let Satoru have a taste, you want him too don't you, begging so nicely," and his thumb is running over your cheek, one hand coming to untangle your legs and every inch out is eliciting a reluctant whimper, tears welling. "Toru's gonna fill you up so well after baby, just a couple seconds is all," and he's dragging himself out, walls trying to trap him between your thighs but his urge to see Satoru fuck you was far too strong to succumb to your whims, he wanted to know what types of face his companion would make and soon he's fully out, leaving you writhing on the sheets as his eyes watch his cum slowly spill from your lips, fingers parting your folds as he watched white dribble out from your thighs, staining the sheets.

"My baby is so hot," Satoru whimpered, thumb rolling at your cunt, relishing in the way your walls clenched and more of the little gift Suguru left behind for you leaked out.

"Toru," you're whining ,fingers grasping, pulling him closer as your sweaty and jittery legs wrapped around him, sucking him close, trapping him to your body, but he doesn't mind, no not at all, he loves it all, from the way Suguru is pulling of his pants for him, to the way his large hand is stroking his dick, Suguru's chin resting on his shoulder, dark hair tickling his skin as he collects some of your slick before rubbing it over his dick, and Suguru fisting him, coating him in the mixture pooling between your thighs and suddenly you're gasping as Suguru lines him up, teasing his tip between your folds, and Satoru is whining, heavy hands controlling his movements, setting him up, pushing him in and he's moaning, mewling as you grab onto him, velvety walls warm and tight as Suguru is forcing him further, slowly inching his dick inside and he watches as your eyes roll back, bathing in the slow entrance as he filled you, up, and up, and up until you're clawing at his back.

"He's still got more left baby," Suguru is laughing and you are crying, his head already so far into your stomach and yet he still has so much left while Satoru is squeezing his eyes shut, trying not to blow his load immediately into your soaking and squeezing cunt. 

You are writhing by the time he's bottoming out and the white ring at the base of his dick made him grow even harder. "That's a good girl," Suguru is praising, thumb rubbing over your hip bone as Satoru struggled to remain composed between your thighs and he's wondering how Suguru had lasted so long, especially with how every clench of your walls made him jump, before you are wrapping around him even tighter, "look at you taking every last inch of our little angel's long cock," Suguru's smiling, pressing a kiss to your cheeks that were dribbling with even more tears, eyes beginning to grow sore as the salty rivulets persisted.

He can't think, not with the way you are hugging him so tightly, the fit so snug it had him seeing stars and you're no better, greedy post-orgasmic cunt weeping but clinging tightly, desperate for more, your brain is no more than a puddle, eyes blurry as you watched in bliss how his blue eyes stared down at you, so pussy drunk even after a mere few minutes of just staying stagnant inside your cunt.

You both gasp, mewling in tandem as Suguru plants his hands on Satoru's hips before lightly pistoning his dick inside you, both of you jerking as Satoru clenched his teeth, whimpering loudly as you whined. "Yellow" you moan and Suguru is forcing his pace to a stop, Satoru's love flooding eyes staring down at you as Suguru gazes at your flushed face, "can't," you choke, "don't move please," you cry out.

"Do you want me to get out," Satoru is asking gently but your legs are quick to wrap around him, weak limbs mustering enough strength to pushing him against you as your hands reach to cup his face.

"No," you whine as though the thought was horrific, "j-just" you sigh, chest heaving and Suguru is tucking hair strands behind your ears, "stay," you murmur, you knew you wouldn't be able to handle more than one overwhelming orgasm, body still feeling the after effects of your rushing climax but despite your brain telling you no, your body still yearned for more, "please."

"For as long as you need love," and he's kissing along your chest, Suguru's lips joining his barrage of pampering kisses and he's falling in love with the way you gasp and jerk when they find those sweet little spots that always had you reacting so prettily.

"m'sorry Toru."

"Don't say that baby," he's shifting his head, taking one of the hands your patted against his cheeks to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your palm as he intertwines your fingers, "should be thanking you for letting me feel you," he's groaning, "squeezin me so tight," he's smiling, brain buzzing.

"wanna make you feel good."

"You are," it was instant, "pretty girl it's taking all my concentration not to cum right now," and he's gritting his teeth, the sweat slipping down his neck evidence of that, and he's moving your hand to his chest and you could feel his erratic heartbeat, and between your fingertips lay your lipstick stain.

"Suguru," you are calling, his head lifting from your neck, "you should fuck Toru too," you offer and you could feel the boy twitch. 

"F-Fuck," he's gasping, blue eyes staring at Suguru who licked his lips, and his hand is trailing towards his ass, thick fingers running over the rimmed hole and Satoru is grabbing at your skin, "baby why."

"W-Wanna see you cry too," you confess, "want Sugu to make love to you too," and you're smiling, lovestruck little grin painting over your lips as you pieced together your little fantasy, "wanna watch a show too."

"What d'ya say my love," and Suguru is kissing his shoulder, "you want me in here," and his finger is tapping against his ass and he bites his lip, eyes pinched shut as he nods bashfully.

"Y-yes, oh- yes please," and he's choking on his words as your walls clamp down, cunt still reactive and he can't help the way he's falling pliant to your smile, he rarely ever denies you, and if this is what you want, then this is what you'll get.

He could hear it, the bedside drawer rumble and with practiced ease Suguru finds the little bottle of lube, the click of the lid making him quiver in anticipation as you stare up at him happily, blissed out as you warm his cock.

You knew the two have fucked before, after all they've put on a show for you on more than one occasion, Satoru's mouth usually full of your cunt while Suguru rammed into him but this time instead of leaning over to suck him off with your mouth, your pussy was already full, excited to feel every twitch and jump, ready to watch every pretty little face he made as he stuffed you so deliciously full, dick reaching parts of your body you didn't know existed, and while you couldn't handle him thrusting you desperately wanted this.

It was the way his lips parted into an, 'o,' tears almost instantly forming as Suguru's fingers slipped inside his hole, fingers scissoring him open and your blurry vision slightly focused as you gazed at them intently, listening to the lewd squelch his ass made before a large smack reverberated and he was jerking in your cunt, making you moan in surprise as he nudged your g-spot.

"S-sorry baby," he's looking down at you with worry despite it being Suguru who spanked him so abruptly, the fingers fucking his ass making his legs tremble.

"Don't apologize," you hum, "feels good," and while you couldn't handle full thrusts his shallow little jerks had you reeling in pleasure, cunt stuffed deliciously as you enjoyed the view, pussy drooling as his hips fucked Suguru's cum back up into you.

Part of you expected to fall into a deep slumber, for your brain to blank but even with your mushy mind you found small ounces of focus to gather, desire overruling fatigue as you listened to his perfect little whines, mewling with each shudder of his thighs, balls resting heavy against your ass while Suguru stretched him open.

He's resting on his elbows, caging you in as his hitched breaths shuddered in his chest, your nipples barely grazing each other as his face hovered above yours, drunken gaze peering down at you as you stroked his flushed face, basking in the way his lips met your palm, "oh god," he's groaning, breath fanning across your face as he squirms, light twitches making you cry out in tandem.

"There you go," Suguru is humming, "you think you can take me pretty boy," and he's leaning down, chest over his back as he whispers into the reddened shell of his ear, finger's fucking quickly into his rimmed hole.

"P-Please," he's whining, head twisting to the side, pressing needy weak kisses to Suguru's lips and you gazed in awe as two undoubtedly beautiful men made out above you, sharing intimacy in the closed confines of this room.

You feel the exact moment when Suguru is forcing his way in, the heavy shudder of the limbs above you as he whines, two thick fingers in his slobbering mouth as the bed jerks, mattress squeaking as instead of the tender little languid thrusts Suguru pampered your pussy with, he was sending the bed quaking , Satoru's body rocking above you as every thrust nearly sent him flying.

"Oh fuck- ngh, Suguru," he's mewling, bleary eyes never leaving your own as he quivered above you, forceful pistons into his ass shaking him in your drooling cunt, the went cries of your pussy coating his length while Suguru went in for yet another round, forcing mind boggling pleasure into both his lovers.

One hand rubs over the apple of his cheek while you slither the other to the nape of his neck, scratching as his undercut before tugging lightly and he's sobbing, head jerking back as shockwaves thunder beneath his skin ."Baby please," he's whimpering, tears dripping down from his blue eyes and onto your skin and his pathetic little face only brought a smile to your lips.

"Ma-Makin me feel so good," you whine, voice high pitched and breathy as the springs creaked beneath you, jolts tremoring throughout his body as every plunge had his ass reverberating against Suguru's toned thighs. 

It was the wet sinful sounds as each smack had you reeling, force in turn making Satoru jerk over, and over, and over, rutting against your g-spot so frantically as despite coming wholly undone on Suguru's cock his hips angled perfectly, pleasing you while bathing in his own satisfaction.

"Satoru fucking you good princess," Suguru is cooing and you gush at his words, body folding as he leaned low over Satoru's shoulder, pressing himself snug to his ass before leaning past white hair to find your swollen lips.

Satoru's face was pushed down, burrowing between you tits as Suguru grinded against him, pressing your mouths together, drinking up every last whine you had to give before pulling away, satisfied with your fucked out little face.

You could feel it rising, a small little tidal wave beginning to grow larger as your orgasm quickly approached, overstimulated and abused little cunt accelerating to yet another climax and his whines spoke volumes as he chased his own high.

"M'gonna," he's slurring, tongue lolling out as his dewy eyes sparkled, "gonna," and a hand is yanking at his throat, pulling him up by the neck and suddenly he is forced up, back pressed to Suguru's chest, light fixtures painting the edges of his snowy white hair golden as a halo formed above your overstimulated little angel, dark hair dancing across his shoulders as heavy hands squished his cheeks together, pink lips puckering as Suguru forced his mouth onto his .

They were cinematography at its finest, a lewd little film complete with heartthrob actors sculpted beautifully by the heaven's above. "Look at you," Suguru is growling, forcing his unfocused eyes to stare at the creamy white ring at the base of his cock, "makin such a mess," and your ass is being smacked.

"Suguru," Satoru is crying, "d-don't," he choking out as your gummy walls grip down tightly in surprise.

"Why what's wrong," he's teasing, "is our pretty baby making you feel too good, squeezing your dick just right," and you jump as he circled your puffy clit, imminent knot growing tighter as your greedy walls encircled him. 

"B-Baby please, lo-loosen up," and his palms are frantically patting at your thighs, constricted by Suguru's hands as they peered down at your fucked out form. "I can't, gonna," fresh tears spilling down his cheeks, pornographic little sounds breaking past his lips. 

"Cum f'me baby," you are whimpering, hands reaching to trace over the contours of his abs, "want you to fill me up," and suddenly he's falling off the cliff, white ropes shooting into the depths of your cunt, painting your walls as he shuddered, body jerking in your touch as he stuttered, twitching but his hips keep rolling, grinding as you listen to Suguru's grunts, hips rutting until his eyes are fogging over, grip tightening as also rode out his high.

"C'mon Satoru," he still finds his words, brain still working unlike the melting puddle in your head, "let our pretty baby climax again yeah," and his hips are shuddering, Satoru frantically pawing at your skin as he slumped forward, chest to yours as his mouths found your neck and his dick pounded against that one spot, Suguru's fingers working at your clit as you lay there and took it, quivering as finally you were climaxing, orgasm wracking your figure until you were blanking.

You don't remember falling asleep, don't recall exactly when your eyes shut but obviously they did because now they were blinking open, fatigue ridden lids fighting as your brain resurfaced to consciousness, there is a gentle splash as you grumbled, throat hoarse, limbs still gooey but even your blurry eyes could register the sight of the steaming water rolling over your body, tender touches spreading soap as you soaked into a heavy embrace.

"Are you awake pretty girl," it's careful, quiet and you turn ever so slightly, aching neck craning to look up at hickey painted skin before blue eyes are staring down at you fondly. "You feeling okay," he's asking and you merely hum, throat too scratchy to speak. Your body was throbbing, water doing little to ebb away the soreness between your legs but you felt unexpectedly clean, stickiness no longer permeating your inner thighs and you can't recall in your hazy memory being washed up, but you must've been by gentle hands.

"Do you want to get out love," it was Suguru, he was standing outside the tub, towel draped around his hips, the ends of his hair damp, "you're all cleaned up," he's cooing, voice gentle, a soothing balm for your aching limbs. 

"Mhm," you whine, eyes slowly falling closed and you could feel Satoru haul you up out of the water, body trapped in his embrace before the sloshing stops and wet feet are hitting tile. The bite of the cold air was quickly fought off, fluffy towel patting against your skin and suddenly you are standing but not really, jelly legs pushing all the weight onto Satoru as he held you up as Suguru gathered the droplets from your skin, you barely blink your vision open and you are staring at your figure in the steam filled mirror, all you can see are the abundance of love bites loitering your skin, marring your neck, trailing from your chest to your stomach and ending at your thighs.

You feel them pulse beneath your flesh but it's comfortable, warm and blurry as your bare body made contact with uncovered chests of your lovers as they coddled you, and as Suguru faces you your eyes catch sight of the long red lines trailing along his back before you are settling into your fatigue, letting them care for you as they pampered your tired form, dressing you slowly, pulling up comfortable cotton undies and a large shirt, you're in an embrace, carried to some other plush bed that was probably Suguru's, settled in a lap as a rim is pressed to your lips, cup tilting as cold water filtered down your raw throat, the chilling relief soothing the persisting ache before a heavy duvet is draping over your body, capturing you in warmth as limbs quickly tangled in your own.

You're aching, throbbing but they are quick to try and soothe with kisses and quiet words and before you can fall to a comfortable rest, Satoru's asking, "so what's the answer to your question," and you part your kiss bitten lips, licking at the skin as you nuzzled deeper into their arms.

"You already know," it's a light hearted tease and you can feel his chest vibrate with a chuckle.

"Well let us know if you have any more questions," Suguru's grinning.

The subject of physical intimacy never really felt like a taboo topic for you, especially when you were only discussing it with your two close friends, and they were eager to answer every last one.

[moni-logues]

Thirteen Rounds

Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship

Summary: JK's boxing coach tells him he can't come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn't that long, right? ... Right?

Word count: 13.2k

Content: oral sex (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, masturbation (f.), orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, sex toys, uh implied come eating? (It's not mentioned but he comes in her then eats her out sooooo it's happening 😂), cutesy nicknames that honestly even make me cringe these days lmaooo

A/N: as I said in a post earlier today, this hit 6k notes on the old blog and I know crowing about notes is tacky and no one cares (and even I don't care! That's not why I'm here!), but I never really got to celebrate this fic when I posted it and it took the fuck off. So here's to another 6k 🤪🤪🤪

FOUR WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook walks slowly, very slowly, down the corridor to the door of your apartment. He does not want to go through it. He really doesn’t want to have to tell you what he’s about to.

Four weeks no sex.

That’s what Coach said. No sex, no masturbation, orgasms 100% completely verboten. He knows this is not going to go down well with you. From the very start of your relationship, you have never gone that long without sex. Jungkook isn’t sure he’ll be able to make it; he’s not sure if you will be either. A tiny part of him worries what it might do to your relationship – you’re stronger than that, aren’t you? This won’t hurt your relationship, will it? You’ve been together for years now, four weeks without sex can’t change anything… Right? Jungkook knows in his heart of hearts that it’s right but the thought of four weeks without you is so unutterably awful that he also can’t believe it won’t change things.

He flops face-first onto the sofa next to you and squirms immediately as you rake a hand through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. Absolutely none of that from now on.

“You ok?” you ask and he can’t answer because the answer is no and he’s not going to be for another four weeks, another 29 days in fact. He mumbles nothing into the sofa.

“Just tired? Training hard today?”

Training wasn’t hard, especially. This conversation we’re about to have is hard, Jungkook thinks. Keeping his face shoved into the sofa cushion, he breaks the news.

“Jungkook,” slight impatience in your voice now. “I cannot understand you when you talk into the sofa; what’s going on?”

He lifts his head slightly but can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Coach says we can’t have sex until the fight.”

“WHAT?”

“We can’t have sex until the fight,” he repeats, quietly, miserably.

He clenches and unclenches his fists by his side, still not daring to look at you.

“But that’s four weeks away! Four weeks!”

“I know!”

He takes your hand and kisses it, leaning up on his elbows. He rests his head on your thigh, bumping it gently as if he were hitting it against a brick wall. He mumbles under his breath, as close as he ever got to invective against his Coach (whom he nevertheless trusts and respects deeply). You’re being quieter than he expected you to be and it makes him nervous. He expected outraged protestations, reasoned arguments, begging and pleading. But you’re sitting and thinking.

“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”

“He says it’ll improve my focus, power, and aggression if I don’t come between now and then…”

You hum in response and he risks a peek at your face. You’re smirking and something about it makes his stomach drop.

“So… You can’t come, but I can do whatever I want, hm?”

He hadn’t considered that. Of course, that makes sense; you’re not wrong, but Jungkook realises this with absolute horror. Not being able to fuck you for four weeks was going to be bad enough as it is, but four weeks of getting you off without a single second of relief for him? He feels sick.

“Noooo! Baby, please. Please, you have to do this with me.”

It’s not his usual role, but he is not above begging. You shake your head.

“No way; four weeks is a long time and I’m not fighting anyone.”

“I know it’s a long time! That’s why we have to do it together!”

“On the contrary, my sweet, little biscuit, the whole point is that we don’t do it together, isn’t it?”

You lean down and kiss his nose but it is of no comfort. He’s pouting now, both furious and devastated at this turn of events. When you start running your hands through his hair again and his dick twitches, he groans; this will kill him, he thinks. Stone cold dead, this is going to kill him. He holds your hand tight and looks at you, finally, dead in the eye, eyes wide and pleading, his absolute best puppy dog.

“Please,” he begs. “Please.”

“Why don’t we have one last night?” you suggest and Jungkook groans because he knows that tone. “You can start tomorrow. One night won’t make a difference, surely?”

You slide down the sofa until your faces are almost level and Jungkook is about to rest his head where your thigh was, but discovers your breast in its place. He holds still. This is his first test and, while you might have a point, he’s got rules to follow and he can’t break now, not at the very first hurdle. He’s got better self-control than that, hasn’t he?

“Hm?” you continue. “Start tomorrow… Come on, Kookie, please.”

He wants to say yes, of course he does, but if he’s going to last four weeks, he’s going to have to practise saying no.

You slide off the sofa onto your knees on the floor and he eyes you carefully. You’re dangerous and you know it. When you trail your fingers down his spine and kiss the back of his neck, he shivers.

“I want you so badly,” you whisper in his ear and he groans. You slip your hand underneath his T-shirt and he’s sticky with sweat. “I didn’t have you yesterday and now we have to go four weeks? Kookie, I can’t take it… Be good to me, Jungkook, please.”

He loves it when you beg. Hearing his name in your mouth all high and whiny, tremulous with need and desire. If he wasn’t hard before, he is now. Goosebumps follow your hand on his back and he shivers, groaning into the sofa, fists clenched again.

“My love, stop it, please. We can’t.” His voice is weak and he can’t believe how weak he’s feeling; if you persist might longer, he genuinely feels he might snap and he’s ashamed that his self-control is apparently all but non-existent. He must do better.

“But I’m so wet already.”

Fuck. He snaps. He kneels up and looks at you, your innocent, little face, a devil in disguise. If you’re just playing with him, just teasing, you’re going to be in big trouble.

“Get up,” he commands, slapping the sofa. You obey without hesitation and he grabs you by the legs, pulling so you’re falling onto your back. He tells him yourself you were lying, of course you won’t be wet; you’re just teasing him and he’ll tell you off and ask you to take this seriously and it’ll all be fine. Then he yanks down your trousers and your underwear.

“FUCK.”

He brings his hands to his face and rubs.

“Fuck, I thought you were lying just to tease me, but fuck, you really are.”

You are. Looking at you is almost painful; he’s desperate to touch you. You’re right there in front of him, legs spread, and all he has to do is touch you. But he can’t. If he starts, he won’t be able to stop. He shuffles back away from you slightly, hands moving to reach you and then pulling back. He swears again.

When you spread your legs wider and shuffle yourself down closer to him, he has to stand. He has to do something with his hands: clenching at his sides, on his hips, on his head, over his face. He’s pacing, too, unable to look at you once again. It would be all too easy to take his own trousers off, let his dick out of its cloth prison and fuck you into the sofa. He has to bite down on his knuckles to stop himself doing just that.

“Kookie,” you coo. “Aren’t you going to touch me? I need you… No one touches me like you do.”

Jungkook is open-mouthed and he has to turn away. He growls, deep in his throat, and gently places his fists on the kitchen counter, when what he really wants to do is smash straight through it. His whole body is tense, fighting itself in an agony of indecision. He needs you to stop; he’s sure you won’t. Not when you’re having this effect on him. He should’ve seen it coming. He knew you wouldn’t take the news well; for some reason, he didn’t expect you to immediately be so defiant. You were always so pliant and obedient for him. But then, this isn’t really his rule and you and his coach didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye.

He freezes when he hears the unmistakeable squelch of you plunging your fingers in your wet heat. Then you moan. Then you whimper.

“Jungkook, please.”

He can barely control his breathing as he stands, still with his back to you, unable to block the sound of you from his ears. He should be the one drawing those moans from you; he should be the reason your breathing is hitched.

He decides quickly that you have a point. He can’t come but that doesn’t mean he can’t do anything he likes. He crosses the space to the sofa in three large steps and forces your hand away from you. He doesn’t see the expression on your face as you look up; he’s too busy staring at his next meal. He squeezes your thighs hard and lowers his mouth to you.

“Fuck, yes,” you breathe and it goes straight to his dick.

He moans loudly as he licks from your core to your clit, drinking you in. He licks through your folds, not wanting to miss a drop. He swirls his tongue around your clit before sealing his lips and sucking hard; you grab at his hair and he flicks his eyes to you but your head is tipped back, your back arching off the sofa. He pulls your thighs, bringing you even closer, smothering him, burying him but if he can’t breathe, he doesn’t notice. He notices the pitch of your whines tilt; he notices your breath come quicker; he notices your thighs twitching under his hands; he notices you tugging harder and harder at his hair. He watches you as he works, alternately swirling his tongue across your throbbing bundle of nerves and sucking, until you’re screaming, your body writhing, shuddering under the waves of your orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swears repeatedly, almost sure he hears you saying the same, but he can’t move his mouth from your lips; all that fresh arousal dripping from you has his name on it.

You squirm and bring your legs together, your feet pushing against his shoulders and he relents, shifting backwards but still gripping your thighs tight.

“I love you,” he says. “I love you, I love you but fuck, I fucking love your cunt.”

His hands move higher, his thumbs spreading your lips, running up and down, the slick noises they make like music to his ears. He whines as he drops his head to your thigh with a heavy sigh. He squeezes his eyes tight shut for a moment, trying not to lose all control even as his cock aches in his pants, desperate for you.

While he’s trying to keep it together, you extricate yourself from his grip and sink onto the floor. While he’s off-guard, you spread his legs and slot yourself between them. It’s only when his dick jumps as you slide your hands up his thighs that he realises what is happening. He leaps up and away from you in one, quick, fluid motion.

“No, no, no,” he mutters, hands tangling in his hair, twisting his T-shirt, gripping the kitchen counter, anything to stop them wandering to the bulge in his trousers. He’s painfully hard now, twitching with almost no provocation; his restraint is hanging by a thread.

“Jungkook,” you call for him, still kneeling on the floor. “Kookie, come here, let me help you.”

He growls and takes a deep breath. If he even looks at you right now, he knows he’ll snap.

“I’m going to shower.”

He has to get out, get away from you, anywhere will do.

“You better not wank in there!” you call after him. “Or I’m going to be really upset!”

He chuckles bitterly; as if he would ever choose his hand over your sweet mouth. He strips quickly and steps into the shower, turning the temperature as low as it’ll go and the power on full blast. He gasps as a strong stream of icy water hits him; he shudders and shivers and forces himself to stand still. He’s panting and his skin turns red under the blast but he can’t move, not until he’s flaccid, not until he’s stopped thinking about your beautiful pussy and your soft, hot mouth and no-! Enough of this. He calls to mind all his least favourite things, conjuring up the worst images he can, disgusting, horrible, anything. He just has to stop thinking about you.

When he’s finally showered and clean and soft, he leaves the bathroom. It’s not late, but you’re already sitting up in bed, naked as you always are, and he groans, trying to avoid looking at you.

“Hey now, that’s not fair,” you tell him, sulking with an exaggerated pout as he takes the towel from his waist and rubs it over his hair.

He almost chokes on his indignation.

“Not fair? Me not being fair? And what do you call that, out there? Is that fair, huh? And this?” He gestures to you, chest on display, arms just slightly squeezing your breasts together, as if you think he won’t be able to tell. “Is this fair?”

Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, he sits next to you on the bed; he simply will not survive the next four weeks if he can’t get you on-side. He has to stop you reaching out to touch his cheek; he’s only just been able to lose his erection, he’s not sure he can manage another.

“I’m serious, y/n, I cannot do this.”

He’s not sure he can look at you anymore. The thought of spending a whole night next to your naked form, your soft skin pressed against him… He can’t. He can’t even think it without feeling a stir in his groin.

“I can’t do this. I’m going to sleep in the spare room.”

Never in his life has he been more grateful to have one. He’d sleep on the sofa or the floor if he had to, but, if he’s doing all this to improve his fighting, he needs to keep his sleep up, too.

“Jungkook! Don’t leave me!”

When he risks a look at you, you’re wide-eyed and open-mouthed, dismayed. He doesn’t ever want to be the cause of that face; his heart aches. Maybe this would affect your relationship after all. He returns to sit on the edge of the bed and takes your hand. He kisses your palm.

“I can’t- I… I can’t even look at you, right now, without wanting to jump you.” He says quietly, sadly. “I just-“

“I can put some clothes on?”

Your hopeful face squeezes his heart and he wishes that would be enough.

“No, baby, thank you but we both know that isn’t going to help. I know what’s under there.”

“So, we’re not even going to be able to sleep together for the next four weeks?”

“No, we will, I promise. I just… Right now, I just need to get away from you.”

He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood, but fails. He misses you already.

“Can I at least kiss you goodnight?”

Jungkook isn’t sure. He’s not sure the one thread of sanity he’s clinging to will last, but he has to give you something.

“Of course, you can,” he answers, with only a little hesitation. “But please… Be nice…”

You take his face in his hands and he shivers. You kiss him once, firmly, and then again, softly, sighing against his mouth. He wants to wrap his arms around you and kiss you again, wants to melt into your mouth and roll your tongue with his. Then he feels temptation in his groin and has to pull away.

“Night night, my little custard cream.”

“Night night, my love.”

He leaves, and shuts himself in the spare room, wondering just how on earth either of you will make it through the next 29 days.

THREE WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook isn’t home so you’re taking the opportunity for a little Me Time (courtesy of your favourite rabbit). It’s been a week since the last time you came (courtesy of Jungkook) and you’re on edge. You feel a little guilty for the way you behaved, but you’ve been good this week in penance, even though you’re already missing him terribly.

At night, when he wraps himself around you, his hard chest against your back, his strong arms holding you tight, you feel a steady pulse in your core. You want desperately to shift, just push your hips back a little, bring his hand to cup your breast, do something to address your need of him. It’s worse than usual because, of course, you always want most what you can’t have. Isn’t that a universal truth? Last night, you even wished he would go and sleep in the spare room again; having him so close to you, knowing that you can’t touch him like you wanted to was beginning to get unbearable.

Hence, Me Time.

Jungkook is out and not due back soon so you have plenty of time to take things slow. Or at least, that’s what you intend. You take a nice, long, hot bath; apply your favourite body lotion: a rich, thick, cocoa butter that makes you feel expensive; you potter around the apartment for a while in your sexiest lingerie – there’s no one to see you, but it makes you feel sexy anyway. You think about Jungkook. You think about his hair, too short for your preference at the moment; you like it a little longer, a little wavier, giving you plenty to grab onto at the nape of his neck just as at the crown; you like it when it flops into his face and he pushes it back; you like when he lets you plait it and style it, just for the two of you, just for fun.

You think about his beautiful, brown eyes: huge and wide, bright and shining, so open and innocent. You think about the way he looks at you sometimes, like you’re his entire world, like he’s looking at the most beautiful, peaceful sight he’s ever seen. You think about the way he looks at you at other times: like you’re prey; like he’s calculating exactly the right way to destroy you; his eyes dark, black, piercing; eyes that silently command and will be obeyed.

You think about his mouth: his soft, pink lips and two straight rows of perfect white teeth; you think about his mouth on yours, the unyielding pressure of his lip ring, the hard bite of his teeth on your bottom lip, his soft, wet tongue rolling against yours; his soft, wet tongue swirling around your nipple; his soft, wet tongue licking through your folds, flicking across your clit, his lips tight around you as he sucks. You think about his long fingers, their reach; his strong hands and how they direct and control you, pinning you down and lifting you up.

You think about his cock, the prettiest you’d ever seen (though you weren’t surprised, given the rest of him); in perfect proportion, neither too long nor too thick, a slight, gentle curve, smooth but for one thick vein running the length of it. It makes your mouth water just to think of it; your pussy throbs, missing it and you settle on the bed. You can feel the crotch of your underwear is already sticky and your heart is already thumping but you’re still telling yourself that you’re going to take this slowly, because you have plenty of time.

You discard your bra, teasing your nipples beneath it, twisting at the barbells that run through each of them, remembering the way Jungkook had reacted the first time he saw them, as if it were Christmas morning and they were a brand-new puppy and a skateboard. You slip a hand down behind the waistline of your knickers and exhale sharply as you spread your juices across your clit. You’re aching now, with desire, with frustration but you take deep breaths to calm yourself down. You let your fingers work slowly, gently, dipping down between your lips to your entrance, exploring your folds, teasing and tapping your clit. It was almost like stepping into a bath: enveloped in warmth as blood rushed to the surface of your skin, cocooned in pleasure as it radiates outwards from your core to the tips of your toes. Goosebumps spread as a shiver rushes down your spine.

Then you get out your rabbit and the lube and shuffle out of your underwear. You coat the toy with lube, wipe your hand against yourself and turn it on, letting it rest against you for a moment, cycling through the settings until you reach your favourite. You think, not for the first time, as you slip it inside you, smoothly, easily, how much you wish you had one of these moulded from Jungkook’s cock. He thought you were joking the first time you said it, but you weren’t then and aren’t now. You want to be able to have him inside you even when he wasn’t around – or at times like this when he is around but isn’t allowed inside you. Nothing compares to him and while this toy might get the job done, it will never be the same.

The little rabbit ears press intently against your clit as you angle it inside you and start to rock your hips, working out a long, soft moan. You tip your head back and close your eyes, focusing on the coiling pressure in your abdomen. You cycle to another setting – higher, faster, more insistent now – and whimper with every breath as your climax comes closer.

“God, I’ve missed that noise.”

You sit up with a jolt to see Jungkook at the bedroom door, eyes roving hungrily over your naked body.

“Jungkook,” you gasp. “What are you doing here? I thought you had plans.”

He shrugs.

“Changed ’em... Though I might be sorry I did.”

“I thought you were going to be out... But since you’re here...”

You beckon him to the bed as you switch off the toy. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head with a sigh as he approaches you on the bed. You’re surprised; you thought he would refuse, hold back, protest even a little. Maybe this would be easier than you thought.

He looks at the rabbit, appraising.

“How does it compare, baby?” he asks, his voice low, a smirk just ghosting over his lips.

“It doesn’t, Kookie.” You flop backwards onto the mattress again. “Nothing compares to you.”

“Let me help you.”

You sigh with relief, waiting to hear his trousers unzip or the shuffle of cloth as he undresses but it doesn’t come. Instead, you hear the quiet whirring of vibration as Jungkook turns the rabbit back on. He chooses a different setting – short, intense pulses – and slips the toy back inside you, pushing the ears hard into your clit, forcing a choked moan from your throat.

“Jungkook... Kookie, no. I want you.”

The look on his face is fierce but softens when he looks into your eyes. He kisses your temple and whispers in your ear.

“You know you can’t have me now, baby. Stop playing dirty.”

He takes a hand and pushes low on your stomach as he rocks the toy inside you and changes the setting: insistent, hard vibration that almost sets your teeth chattering.

“Fuck,” you whisper as your walls start to clench and all your muscles tighten and you’re whimpering, mewling, seconds from climax, your breath catching in your throat. You’re a band stretched to its limits and just as you’re about to snap, Jungkook pulls the toy from you and sits back on the bed, not touching you.

“Wh-.. I...”

You look at him, dazed and confused, as he stands up and takes the toy with him out of the room.

“Where are you going?” you call after him, your voice weak and strangled.

You’re itching with frustration and impatience and when he returns, only a minute later, you turn to him, outraged. He’s empty-handed and he sits on the edge of the bed next to you and tucks your hair behind your ear sweetly.

“What are you doing?” you ask, still breathless, heart still pounding in your chest.

He leans closer to you, resting on his forearm on your chest, lightly crushing you beneath his weight as he takes your hand in his and directs it to his crotch, where you can feel his dick, semi-hard under his trousers.

“I’m showing you how hard this is,” he whispers menacingly in your ear. “You’re still not playing fair, little miss.”

He stands and walks out of the room, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“If I don’t get to come, you don’t get to come!” he calls.

You give a little, angry shriek and throw a pillow at him, which misses by miles, and you storm out after him.

“I did not sign up for that!” you shout, giving him a shove.

He grins at you and raises his eyebrows.

“What’s mine is yours, baby.”

“No way! No way! You know the second you leave, I can just make myself come.”

“That’s true,” he admits as he checks his watch, “but I’m not leaving again tonight.”

Furious now, you move closer to him, your hands on his hips. You lick your lips and move a hand between you, palming his erection. His eyes flutter closed.

“Two can play at this game, Jeon,” you hiss, sliding your hand between his trousers and his boxers, running your finger up his turgid length.

“Don’t call me Jeon.”

“Isn’t it your name?”

He tips his head back and bites his lip as you finally breach his boxers, wrapping your fingers around him, squeezing lightly.

“You only call me Jeon when you’re pissed,” he chokes out.

“Yeah, I’m fucking pissed.”

His head tips forward again and he looks at you as you sink to your knees, pulling his clothes down with him. You see him swallow hard.

“Not sure you thought this through, did you?” you ask, swiping your tongue across his head, tasting the tang of his pre-cum. “Here you are, all hard and ready for me...”

You take a hand through your lips, sweeping up your arousal and spreading it on the head of his dick.

“And me all ready for you...”

You wrap your lips around him and take him until he hits your throat, looking up at him through your lashes, then you come up and pause, just holding him in your mouth, your tongue running back and forth across the underside. Jungkook grunts and his eyelids flutter closed. You can see his fists clenching on either of him.

“Y/n...” he groans, quiet and strangled.

“Mm?” you hum, not taking him from your mouth, and you notice the muscle in his jaw jump as he clenches. “You started this,” you remind him, as you trail sloppy, wet kisses down the length of his hot, smooth cock. “I was going to be nice to you, but you had to go and spoil it.” You run your tongue flat across his balls as your hand continues to pump his shaft and he moans.

“Fuck, I miss you,” he whines, his voice high and tight as you run your tongue back to his head, enveloping him in your mouth once again. “God, fuck.”

You hollow your cheeks and suck, your hand and mouth moving as one. Jungkook’s fist moves to your hair, gripping tight, not directing you, just to have something to hold on to. As you push lower, tipping your head to take him into your throat, he jerks.

“No, no, no, stop! Stop.”

He pushes you back by the shoulders and stands, his breathing ragged, looking up at the ceiling and blinking hard. You let him stand there, recovering; you stay kneeling at his feet.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, each more aggressive than the last. He pulls his boxers and his trousers back on and looks at you, eyes wild. “No.”

“Kookie... Please.”

You pout up at him, put your hands on his thighs, and shuffle just an inch closer.

“No. Fuck, no, I can’t. I can’t.” He looks at you, alternately desperate and resolved and then shakes his head. “Baby, god, I want to. You know I want to. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

His hand is in your hair again, gently pulling you upwards, pulling you closer. He kisses your cheek and your lips, each little peck lasting a little longer than the last, until he just barely parts his mouth and you grab his bottom lip in your teeth. He moans and pulls away.

“No, no, no, no,” he whispers. “I can’t.” He swallows hard and looks skyward again, praying for strength. Then he repeats his no before stalking off into the spare room, cursing under his breath.

You sigh, more frustrated than ever, and, having spotted your stolen sex toy on the bathroom counter, you go back to finish what you started.

TWO WEEKS TO GO

Jungkook is sleeping in the spare room again. He says it’s because you’re not to be trusted, but what he means is that he isn’t to be trusted. He could barely trust himself around you before, but two weeks into the ban, he can’t risk taking any chances. Especially not with the way you’ve been behaving.

Apparently, so you tell him, there’s very little evidence to suggest that sex before a sporting event has as negative effect on performance.

“I even read,” you say, not for the first time, “that not having sex for a while lowers your testosterone so it’s not just that having sex isn’t bad, it might even be good! Don’t you want that?”

He’s trying to block you out. You’ve already told him this and he’s already told you that he’s doing as he’s told. He focuses on the TV, trying to get invested in the storyline, trying to care about the characters while you pester him relentlessly. He has to grit his teeth together and breathe carefully.

“Don’t ignore me, my little hobnob.”

You always pull out that biscuit when you think he needs to lighten up. He tries not to grin, not very successfully, because it’s such a ridiculous name – who calls a biscuit that, really? Then you slip your hands around his waist and rest your chin on his shoulder.

“I miss you,” you say, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his back.

He sighs, dropping his head, carefully trying to revel in your touch without giving in too far.

“I miss you too, love. Just two more weeks.”

You sigh, aggravated, and sit back.

“Yeah, two more weeks; we’re only halfway through. We have to do all of this all over again. Is that really what you want?”

“No, of course it’s not!”

Of course, he doesn’t want it. What he wants is to pin you down and eat you out ’til you’re screaming and then he wants to fuck you like his life depends on it, spend himself on you so hard he literally can’t move. What he wants is the opposite of this. Why can’t you understand that?

He turns to you, shifting his body around and reaches for your hands.

“Of course, it’s not what I want. I want you all the time. Why do you think I’m sleeping in the spare room again? I can barely stand sitting with you like this; every part of me is screaming at me to just take yo-“

“Then do it! Do it! I’m telling you, the science is on our side!”

He has to take a deep breath; he knows you may well be right. And he doesn’t like the thought of doing all this for no reason, for, if the article you read is right, the possibility that he’s actually less strong, less powerful in the ring, but he’s on a path and he has to stick to it.

“I’m doing what Coach says,” he tells you, sounding more resolved than he is. “I hired him for a reason and he’s already said he can notice a difference. This fight is so important and I have to follow him to the letter. I am sorry. I am…”

He is what?

He puffs out his cheeks and sighs. He doesn’t know what to say. There aren’t words for this or, if there are, he doesn’t know them. He leans forward and grabs the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss. He knows he shouldn’t, knows how dangerous this is, but he misses you so much and he’s so upset and you’re so upset and he has to do something.

You scoot forward and sit yourself in his lap. His heart hammers in his chest, anxiety or desire or a heady mix of both, he’s not sure but his mind is slipping away from him and he’s not sure he cares anymore. He wraps his arms around you as his tongue finds yours. You’ve hardly had this much of each other over the last week and he’s ravenous. You moan into his mouth as he sucks on your tongue and he feels a stirring in his crotch. He can feel you, just above him, and he wants to push you down, roll your hips over his, but he daren’t; he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop himself if you do.

He's breathless with the need of you and it catches in his throat as you grind into him. He moans and bites hard at your bottom lip; you keep going, kissing him hard so that he can’t speak.

Jungkook gathers up his strength and pulls back, holding you tight in place so you can’t chase after him. He’s breathing heavily and his hand trembles as he reaches up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Y/n…” He doesn’t know if it’s a plea or a warning; he doesn’t have any more words to follow. There isn’t anything he can say or do that will make this situation anything other than torture. Nothing will make you feel better than being fucked by him, fucked hard, nothing more and nothing less. He knows because he feels the same. He’s almost dizzy with desire; he’s giddy but clinging with desperation to the last remnants of his self-control. There’s a tiny voice at the back of his head proud of him for having come this far, but he can’t listen to it because we all know what comes before a fall and he can’t afford a fall like this.

It's the title. It’ll be his first title. This win will put him on the map. This win will establish him as a real, professional boxer, one to beat; this will be, he hopes, the first of many belts, many titles. His coach has real faith in him, he believes he can make it to world champion if he works hard enough. And Jungkook wants it. He wants to work; he wants to win. And now, he has to win. Losing is not an option. And once he has won, once this is over – in two, long, painful weeks – it’ll have all been worth it and he’ll be able to have you six ways from Sunday, every day of the week.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper and the open, desperate pleading of your glistening eyes goes straight to his dick. “Please, please.”

He’s had to resist your pleading before; he’s even enjoyed resisting your cries and pleas, but that’s when he’s been in control; that’s when he’s been ramping up to wrecking you once, twice, three times, as many times as you can take. This is ramping up to nothing and your pleading only makes him feel broken.

You bring your face to his again and he can’t back away. You kiss him with urgency, running your hands over his body beneath his T-shirt, teasing his nipples until he’s fully hard, straining against his boxers, pressing against your crotch. You strip off your own top and Jungkook’s resolve crumbles. He dips his head, lifting you slightly from his lap to kiss your breasts, to flick his tongue over your nipples and swirl them in his mouth, one at a time, until they’re tight and hard. He bites hungrily and you mewl above him, whining his name. It’s like heaven to him and he can’t believe he hasn’t had this for two weeks; the two weeks stretching out in front of you are paling, forgotten in some faraway corner of his mind.

He's kidding himself that he can last a little longer with you lifted up like this, your hips no longer grinding your core into him. He keeps his mouth occupied at your chest and squeezes your glutes in his hands, then slipping them into the wide legs of your shorts. When he pulls your underwear to the side with one hand, and slips the fingers of his other hand into your warm, waiting slip, he sighs with satisfaction. You’re tight and soft and so, so wet.

You take his face in your hands and pull him back to your mouth. The kiss is all tongue and heavy breathing, messy and far from pretty but you’re each so desperate for the other that nothing else matters. You kiss his cheek and his jaw and bite down on his earlobe, whining breathily as he presses insistently against your front wall, each curl of his fingers bringing you closer to the edge. He slips his other hand behind your underwear and spreads your slick over your clit, rubbing insistently, knowing you’re getting close. He can tell by the sounds you’re making, sounds he’d work out of you every day of his life if he could.

“God, Kookie, baby, yes.”

You plant your lips on his neck, muffling your whines and whimpers as the heat builds inside you. Jungkook groans, shivering as you suck on his neck, as your cunt clenches his fingers tight, as your legs shake on either side of him. He doesn’t stop, can’t stop even when you’re tugging his hair, even when you’re squirming, even when you’re screaming his name. He’s far away now, lost in the bliss of your velvet heat. He’s insistent and you’re so sensitive that he pulls another orgasm from you with a cry and a shudder that takes your whole body. He’s so focused on you as a way of distracting himself from his own intense, aching desire. He’s painfully hard; he can feel the spreading circle of pre-cum on his boxers; he’s not entirely sure he won’t come even if you don’t touch him.

Then you flop against him, spent, and your hand grazes his crotch and he jerks violently.

“Fuck!” he gasps and tears prick in his eyes. He can’t look at you; he stares far away, out of the window, trying to stop his dick throbbing, trying to slow his heartrate, trying without success to calm himself.

“Kookie,” you whimper, your voice shaky. “Let me-“

“No,” he whispers, no strength in his voice, no strength anywhere in his body except his stiff, swollen cock. He closes his eyes and he can feel a tear trickle down his cheek, followed by your lips as you kiss it away. He flinches at the contact and whimpers when you stroke his hair.

“I can help you,” you whisper but he doesn’t hear you.

He’s lost, his mind strangled with desperate desire. His brain is whirring, swimming, floating away from him; his fingers tingle and shake and his heart thumps erratically in his chest. He’s never been this excruciatingly turned on before and knowing that he can’t see it through is heart-breaking.

You move your hand towards the waistband of his trousers and he grabs your wrist. He’s gripping so tightly, he’s sure it’ll hurt, but he can’t be gentle now.

“Don’t-,” he starts but his words are swallowed by a sob.

You press your forehead against his and he can’t stop the whimper as you kiss him, so light, so soft. He holds your face in his hands, barely even really touching, trying not to tangle them in your hair and pull you closer. You stay like that, just looking at each other for a minute or more, his eyes never leaving yours. He knows he needs to calm down, knows he should be calming down now that you’re still but his breathing doesn’t settle and he can hear the thump of his heart and the roar of his blood in his ears.

“Baby,” he says eventually, his voice croaky and hoarse. He has to do something and it has to be something drastic. He needs a shock to the system, a full reset. “I need-… I need you to get something for me.” And he needs you to get it because he’s not sure he can walk, not sure he can move at all.

“Anything.”

“Ice. And water.”

“Huh?”

“Ice and water; I need a big, big glass- a jug of iced water please.” His voice wobbles at the end and he’s trying so hard to regulate his breathing, trying so hard not to feel the pulsing in his underwear.

“Ok…”

You shift on his lap but he can’t let you go. His fingers twine in your hair and you have to pry them out to allow you to get up.

With the relief of you off him, the air around him clears and he jumps up, taking off his T-shirt and pushing his trousers to the floor. Once again needing to do something with his hands while he waits for you, he holds them out to the side, not daring to let them anywhere near his erection, fists clenching and unclenching. He feels like he might really be on the edge of a heart attack or an aneurysm. He feels abnormal, like nothing he’s ever felt before. He could keel over.

He can hear you, the ice clinking in the glass and he taps his feet, impatient. When you hand it over, he takes it with both hands and up-ends it all over himself.

“Jungkook!” you cry, as water splashes all over the floor and the sofa and the coffee table, but it sounds distant, the shock of the water temporarily sending him far away. He’s gasping and shivering and blinking hard, then screwing his eyes tight.

“I need you to go,” he tell you, still unable to look at you.

“Go where?”

“Anywhere, baby, literally anywhere,” his voice is still wobbling, his teeth chattering. “If we’re still in the same room in five seconds, I think I’m going to die. Come or die, either way, I don’t know but please, please just go.”

“Ok, I’m going, I’m going.”

He can barely hear you; he scrubs his hands over his face, swearing over and over and over again, begging the universe to let him calm down, to make these next two weeks go as quickly as they possibly can.

ONE WEEK TO GO

Jungkook hasn’t taken any more risks since that night. And he has also told you, almost every day since, to behave yourself, to stop doing that; he’s asked if you’re trying to kill him and the truth is: yes. You’re sick of it now; it takes almost nothing to get you hot: just the thought of him, randomly popping into your head as you’re trying to send emails at work, and you’re getting wet. You can’t sleep anymore. He’s still in the spare room but you lie in your bed, thinking about him lying in the other bed, and you can’t help yourself. You make yourself come again and again but it’s never enough. You can’t believe that he’s not only managed to ruin all other men for you but also your own damn self. You know how to push all your buttons but it’s not the same when it’s you doing it, it's not the same without Jungkook between your thighs.

You know there’s only a week to go, but it’s too long and you’re too frustrated and you’re reaching your boiling point. So, you do what any other sane person would do: naked protest. You stop wearing clothes in the house entirely, getting dressed only to go out and stripping as soon as the front door shuts behind you. When you first walk into the kitchen as Jungkook is eating breakfast, he chokes on his cereal and you have to slap him on the back; you feel his eyes following you as you make yourself a cup of tea and some porridge.

Now he’s just ignoring you. He’s doing his best to stay out of any room you are in, but that’s fine. It’s a small apartment and you’ve hidden his noise-cancelling headphones, so you know he can hear you when you moan and whine, wanton and gratuitous, as you do your best to fix your frustration.

He still hasn’t broken. You’re impressed, honestly. You didn’t think that he would be able to hold out this long and, as aggravated as you are, as deeply, unutterably frustrated as you are, you can’t help but admire his self-control. Unable to be in the same room as you, he texts you and tells you that his trainer is impressed with his performance and is confident about the fight; he believes he can win. He had fucking better win is what you think, but you text back something a little more supportive.

Six days before the fight and Jungkook is in the shower. You’re at a loose end, so you decide to join him. You thank the lord that he didn’t lock the door; he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice you there until your hands are on his waist. He cries out in surprise and goes to turn around but you hold him still, kissing his shoulder and his back and the nape of his neck. You run your hands up his abs, grab his fulsome pecs, and peeking around his shoulder, you’re delighted to see he’s already hard.

“Were you about to masturbate in this shower?” you ask him, only half-serious.

“No,” he groans. “This is how badly I want you, y/n. Why are you making this so hard?”

You giggle at his choice of words and he growls deep in his throat. He turns around and cages you in against the screen with his hands either side of you.

“In six days,” he tells you, his voice low, face serious, eyes pinning you to the spot. “In six days, I am going to fucking destroy you. I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk straight for a week; I’m going to fill you up so completely, my cum never stops dripping out of you; I’m going to make you scream so loud, our neighbours want to call the police; I’m going to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you again, then I’m going to fuck you some more and I’m still not going to be done. I’m going to take this cock,” he says, grabbing it at the base and hissing hard through his teeth as he does, “and I’m going to wreck your pretty little throat and your pretty little pussy, is that what you want?”

You can only nod, mute with desire, as you can feel arousal drip down your legs and you shiver, despite the warm, steamy atmosphere. Jungkook nudges his nose against yours, eyes still black as pitch, and he whispers in your ear.

“In six days.”

Then he leans back and stands back under the stream of water.

“Now get the fuck out.”

You’re so overwhelmed, you just do as he says and he follows behind you, shutting the door – and locking it – as soon as you’ve crossed the threshold. You blink hard and, as you come to your senses, you feel too many things at once: hot, frustrated, desperate, livid, heartbroken, a little bit intimidated, a lot excited, and over and above everything else, impatient.

Jungkook stands in the shower, turning the water icy again. He’s shaking, trembling all over, and before he can get himself under control, he’s sobbing. Hands against the tiles, shivering with cold and shuddering through ragged breaths, he drops his head and cries. Cries because he’s so frustrated, because he misses you so much, because he’s so tired, because he hates disappointing you, because he’s anxious, because he’s not sleeping well at night without you, because a tiny, paranoid thought niggles at him that this is going to make you leave him, because he can’t live without you and if he didn’t know it before, he knows it now.

He cries under the cold water for so long that it stops feeling cold against his skin and when he finally steps out of the shower, his skin is livid red and icy to the touch.

He goes to stay at a friend’s house that night.

“Look, I love you so much and I miss you so much that I can’t be around you,” reads his text. “Just thinking about you makes me want to die a seriously Little Death. The fight will be over soon; just six more days and I promise, I’ll give you everything you want and more. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please, please, please wait for me.”

“I love you, too, my little Bourbon,” you reply. “But I might never forgive you for this.”

“I promise, I’ll make you forgive AND forget, just wait ’til Saturday.”

He stares at his phone, wishing the messages said something different. He knows you’re joking, thinks you’re joking, hopes you’re joking, at least a little bit.

He sends a string of different kiss emojis and you toss your phone down beside you. Considering your small arsenal of sex toys without hope, you pick one at random, knowing even before you’ve started that it’s not even going to touch the sides of your desire. Your need for Jungkook has become a yawning chasm that stretches further than the eye can see; and it is a need for Jungkook specifically. For one mad moment a few days ago, you had considered the possibility of going out and getting fucked by someone else, but the second you thought it, it repulsed you: you don’t need a dick, you need his dick; you need his mouth; you need his hands. You need him, no one and nothing else. Accept no imitations. Which is really rather a pain right now.

You try to focus on your body, on the pleasure building there, the pleasant thrum in your core as you work with the vibrator in your folds and against your clit. You try to think about nothing, removing Jungkook from the equation, just emptying your mind and focusing on the physical sensations of your body.

It doesn’t work and you get so frustrated that you throw the vibrator in the bin and then, that not being enough, scoop up the others and chuck them in there, too. What’s the point of them, you think to yourself bitterly.

These had better be the fastest six days of your life or you aren’t sure you’ll survive.

FIGHT NIGHT

It was finally here. Jungkook had been working towards this for months, years, for his whole life in a way. It was both the pinnacle of his career and the first step of what he hoped would be a very long journey to the top. The final fight in his bid to be The Ring’s Super Middleweight champion: his opponent, Saul ‘Canelo’ Alvarez. Jungkook has him on reach and height, and he’s also lighter, which he thinks will be to his advantage. Canelo might be a slugger, but that’s where Jungkook excels. People think that his lightness is a disadvantage, that he doesn’t have the strength to throw hard enough punches, that he’s weak, that he’s Amir Khan. But he’s better than that. He’s agile and yes, slighter than other super middleweights, but he’s also strong and he’s also powerful and there’s nothing like seeing the surprise in his opponent’s face when he got his first punch in and they realised that for themselves. Of course, now he’s getting better known, he’s losing that element of surprise but it’s hardly the only thing he’s got in his keep.

But he’s not thinking about that. Today, just like all the other days this week, he’s thinking about you. His coach keeps telling him that he’s strong, that he seems focused, that he seems strong, but Jungkook isn’t entirely convinced. All he can think about is you; his mind is already beyond the fight and he’s anxious that this is going to be his undoing, that he’s going to have survived these past four weeks only to be so keyed up and desperate in the ring that he loses.

He wishes he could see you, just for five minutes, but you’ve been banned from his presence on fight days. You’re also banned from the gym on training days. Jungkook agrees with Coach that that’s probably for the best but it doesn’t mean he likes it. You are a distraction, there’s no denying it, but today, he really feels like he needs it. He needs you. Even an ounce, even a drop of you will do.

He pulls out his phone and dials your number.

“Kookie! Are you ok?” You sound concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

“We never speak on fight days; I thought something might be wrong.”

Jungkook sighs and leans his head back against the wall.

“Something is wrong: I miss you.”

“Jungkook! Don’t scare me like that!”

He laughs and knows he was right to call you; just hearing your voice is like a balm to his fraying nerves. He already feels more relaxed.

“I’m sorry, love,” he replies. “I just wanted to hear your voice; we haven’t spoken this week.”

“I know and whose fault is that?”

“I know, I know, it’s mine, but I can’t wait to see you. Even if I lose this fight, as long as I’ve got you, I’m good, I’m a winner.”

“Hey now, you’re not going to lose, my little oat and raisin cook-”

“You don’t like that flavour cookie, do you?”

“Well, I don’t, no, but I thought I’d go with the least sexy flavour, in respect of how easy it is to get a ‘rise’ out of you at the moment.”

He snorts, appreciative of the weird, little effort.

“I think you’re right: raisins are not sexy but cookies are sexy biscuits, aren’t they? By default? Sexier than normal biscuits, right?”

“So you’re saying we need a raisin biscuit that isn’t a cookie.”

“Yeah.

“Garibaldi?”

Jungkook laughs.

“I don’t even know what that is, love, but sure, it doesn’t sound sexy.”

“Ok, then, I know you’re not going to lose, my little garibaldi.”

He laughs again and tells you that his coach has said the same thing (“… not in the same words”). He wishes he could stay on the phone with you longer; having barely spoken to you this week, he misses your voice, your presence, your conversation, just as much if not more than he misses your body. He sees his coach crossing the room, approaching him and he rings off reluctantly, but relieved he got even a minute with you before tonight.

He’s pacing in the dressing room; it’s almost time. He considered asking you not to come to this one; he’s not sure that he’ll be able to focus knowing you’re so much as in the room. The usual rule is that you’re allowed to attend but you have to sit somewhere in the back, somewhere he won’t be able to see you; he’s not sure if that’ll be enough tonight. Coach is talking to him, trying to hype him up, but he can’t hear a word. He just knows he needs to end this fight as soon as he possibly can and that means not going out there all guns blazing like a reckless thug in a bar fight; it means taking a step back (and he physically does it, takes one step back), taking a deep breath, and remembering the strategy, remembering the training. He’s ready for this (“You’re ready for this, JK,” Coach cries); he’s going to destroy Canelo (“You’re going to smash it, mate; you’re going to destroy him!”); and then he’s going to destroy you and himself in that order.

Canelo seems thrown off by Jungkook at the start: his size, maybe, his strength, his Southpaw stance despite being right-handed, Jungkook can’t be sure, but he wins the first round decisively and it’s exactly how he needs it to go: he likes to be the underdog but he likes an early lead. Spite and competitiveness can get you surprisingly far in life. He was right that Canelo is heavy and Jungkook is able to run rings around him; he thinks he might genuinely be able to get this wrapped up early, if he can just manage to hit him hard enough.

That turns out to be an ambitious goal and, halfway through, he’s slightly down on points. He’s frustrated; he can’t quite work out why his punches aren’t landing. Are they really not connecting? It certainly doesn’t feel like it. Are the judges just not seeing them? He’s not sure what he can do about that. He spits out the water Coach squirted in his mouth and he’s nodding at his advice. As he stands to get ready for the seventh round, his eyes roam the crowd, not looking for anything, just looking. Then his stomach flips. He sees you.

You’re sitting in your seat, anxious and uncomfortable. It always makes you anxious to see him fight, even though you know he’s trained for this and he’s as safe as anyone else would be in the same situation, but you flinch every time Canelo lands a punch. Jungkook hasn’t lost a fight all year and you’re surprised to see him losing – even if not by many points. You hadn’t really considered the possibility of him losing, because he doesn’t. He’s Jungkook. He’s the Baby Assassin of Busan. He doesn’t lose.

But things go from bad to worse. The next rounds see Jungkook falter, making uncharacteristic mistakes and misjudgements that cost him points. As the bell rings at the end of the tenth round, you can see the frustration in Jungkook’s face from here. Your stomach twists; you know how much this fight means to him and how upset he’ll be if he loses. You try to rouse yourself; it’s not over ’til it’s over. There are two rounds to go and he’s not so far behind he can’t make it up. There’s still a chance.

When Jungkook stands for the eleventh round, you see him scanning the crowd in your direction. You panic, should you hide? Duck? Cover your face? Too late; his eyes find yours and the second stretches into eternity, just you and him, before he’s tapped by the ref and he turns away. You shouldn’t have come. You’re a distraction. You’re going to make it worse.

Jungkook is going to lose.

The bell rings and Jungkook feels sprightly, buoyed, suddenly less tired than he had done in the last round. He dances energetically around the ring, keeping Canelo moving, keeping him throwing punches and missing, throwing more punches and missing again and again. You’re on the edge of your seat; this is the Jungkook you know. All at once, he lands three punches on Canelo and leaps back out of his retaliatory reach. Then he settles in a bit closer and lets Canelo land a couple on him; this… isn’t the Jungkook you know. You can’t work out what he’s doing; you’ve not seen him do this before. You turn to the clock, watching the seconds of the round tick by. Thirty seconds left. You check the points. Jungkook still behind.

This is more like it, Jungkook thinks. He can end it. He knows he can. He just has to let Canelo let his guard down a little more, tire him out a little further. Jungkook is not letting this get to twelve rounds. It won’t happen. Not on his watch.

You’re so focused on the screen: the points, the time, that you miss what causes the crowd to suddenly surge and scream. Canelo is standing with the referee in front of him, looking a little dazed. The ref lets them continue and the round commences again. Before Canelo has even blinked, Jungkook has hit him with a left hook that you know he put all his weight into. Canelo falls to the mat and doesn’t get back up. The ref starts counting. The crowd count with him.

“8… 9… 10!”

The ref waves a wide cross in front of him; the commentator declares it a knockout; and the crowd is screaming. Jungkook’s arms are in the air, his coach lumbering into the ring to envelope him in a hug, along with everyone else, it seems, the ring suddenly full of people. You lose sight of Jungkook. You’re on your feet, straining to see over the heads of the people in front of you, who are doing the very same thing. Tiny red fists emerge from the mêlée and it’s him; you exhale a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. You’re desperate to get to him. It’s over. The fight’s finally over. And he won. By knockout after a hard fight. This is absolutely the best outcome, better even than you’d hoped for. You bet he’s on cloud nine and you can’t wait to join him there.

Jungkook is buzzing. He’s done it. It’s finally over. And that means there’s only one thing on his mind. He can’t focus, is barely there as they hand him his belt, as he lifts it above his head to show the screaming crowd. People are congratulating him, slapping his back, rubbing his hair; at some point, someone takes his hands and rips off his gloves – he’s not sure where they end up. The fight was televised and a man with a microphone approaches him. He tries hard to focus on the questions, answering as quickly as he can and then the presenter asks just what he’s going to do now he’s won his first Super Middleweight title.

“Well,” he answers, “I haven’t come in four weeks so I’m going to go find my girl and fuck her in the dressing room ’til neither of us can walk straight!”

He points right at you, flicks a peace sign to the crowd and jogs back the way he entered 45 long minutes ago.

He keeps jogging all the way to the dressing room, stopping for precisely nobody. Coach tries to grab his attention, tries to grab his shoulder, but he shrugs him off. Wild horses can’t keep him from you now.

He swings open the dressing room, for a moment disappointed that you’re not there before him, but, of course you wouldn’t be. He’ll have to wait; it’s been four weeks, he can cope with another four minutes. Probably. He paces back and forth, back and forth; he chugs half a bottle of water; he almost wipes the sweat off his body, dries his hair, but then he remembers how much you like him dirty like this. Just the thought of you has got him hard already. He palms himself through his shorts and immediately has to stop himself; to come before you’ve even got in the door is unthinkable, unforgivable.

The door opens and there you are.

“Fucking finally.”

Jungkook slams his hands either side of your head, leaning down over you, sweat still dripping from his hair. He lowers one hand slowly to lock the door, his dark eyes never leaving yours, and then returns it next to your head.

“Did you have to wear fucking jeans?” he asks, laughing lightly. Of course, she’d wear jeans, he thinks, fucking tease. “Couldn’t find a dress? A skirt?”

“Sorry,” you answer, and you’re already breathless.

Jungkook kisses you, pressing his whole body against you and you sigh; god how you’ve missed this. He turns you around with one knock of his hand on your hip and he unbuttons your jeans impatiently. He shoves them roughly down your legs and you step out of them and your shoes at the same time.

“Oh baby, I don’t care. All I care about is finally getting to fuck you like you deserve. Please tell me you’re wet already. I don’t think I can wait a second longer.”

He’s usually more considerate; he would usually take his time. But this is not a usual situation. You laugh.

“Kookie, I’ve been wet for weeks, just hurry the fuck up, would you?”

He doesn’t need telling twice. He strips off his shorts and boxers and as he presses the head of his cock against your entrance, and it twitches, he gasps.

“Shit.”

He takes a few breaths, tries to steady himself. He kisses your neck, buying himself some time. He’s on a hair trigger and he’s not entirely convinced he won’t blow his load in one thrust.

“Just so you know,” he tells you, figuring there’s nothing else for it. “I’m going to last about ten seconds right now, but I promise, I’ll be ready to go again. I swear this won’t be it.”

“Just fuck me, please, Kookie. I’ll take ten seconds over none.”

Your whole body shudders as he presses into you for the first time in four weeks. You both moan low and Jungkook pauses at the bottom. You can feel him breathing heavily against your skin and he takes your trapezius in his teeth, taking a generous bite and not letting go as he drags himself backwards before thrusting in again. Your walls are spasming already; you’re so tight and he’s stretching you just right, filling you up like you’ve not been filled for 29 long days.

Ten seconds, as it happens, was an over-estimation. The way you grip him, the way he can feel your walls fluttering against him; you’re so hot and wet and tight and it’s been so long and he’s so sensitive. He lasts for all of a handful of thrusts before he’s groaning and shooting hot, white ropes of cum into you.

“Fuck, shit, sorry, baby, fuck!”

You can’t help but laugh as you turn around, keeping your legs tight together. He grins sheepishly at you and runs a hand through his sweaty hair.

“I’m sorry, love, I did tell you.” He rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed you so much.”

His hands meet across your lower back and he pulls you close for a kiss.

“I’ve missed you, too, Kookie,” you mumble against his lips, half your words eaten up by Jungkook’s mouth. You feel his tongue against your lower lip and you open up for him, sliding your tongue over his as he licks into your mouth. God, even this you’ve missed. You’ve barely even seen him in the last week, let alone got close to him, let alone touched him, let alone kissed him, even chastely. It’s overwhelming now to have him so close to you, all over you. You never want him any further away.

He moves his hands lower and lifts you up under your bum, carrying you to the sofa, where he strips you of your top and bralet – the black, lacy one you know he likes. You almost pout that he takes no notice of it but he catches you eye and grins.

“I notice, I know, I love you, thank you, but god, I don’t want a stitch on you right now. Nothing is better than you like this.” He stretches his hands out over your naked body and climbs over you. He ducks again, swallowing your next moan as he pinches at your nipple.

His mouth is everywhere, burning wherever it touches. You’re sweating and breathless and you think you won’t last much longer than ten seconds either when he finally touches you. Your cunt is quivering in anticipation, your clit throbbing a hard pulse, its echoes shuddering through you. Your back arches as Jungkook moves lower, his mouth on one nipple and then the next and then lower and lower still. He crawls off the sofa onto his knees and pulls you around, legs dangling from the edge. He spreads your thighs wide and takes a moment, looking down at your soaking wet pussy through half-lidded eyes. He licks his lips and clicks his neck from one side to the next before fixing you with a mischievous grin.

“If you even think about teasing me,” you gasp out. “I will fucking murder you.”

He laughs and kisses your inner thigh.

“You over-estimate my self-control, my love. I’m at my fucking limit.”

He is. He isn’t even close to finished with you. His cock is already stirring again as he dives straight in, licking a broad stripe from core to clit and moaning lasciviously as he does. You’re already so sensitive, whining and whimpering as he sucks and slurps at you, his face buried so far into the crux of your thighs, you don’t know if he can breathe. Almost immediately, you’re cresting, arching off the sofa, thighs clamping together on Jungkook’s head as a streak of hot pleasure surges through you and fresh arousal gushes over his face.

He brings his hands to your thighs and forces them apart without breaking contact with your cunt. He doesn’t stop, no matter how you squirm; you can’t catch your breath to tell him you’re over-stimulated, to beg him to stop, to give you a second’s break. A scream breaks in your throat as he pushes three fingers inside you and you’re seeing stars. He finally takes his mouth from you and breathes heavily against you, his breath sending sprinkles of goosebumps across your skin. He curls his fingers inside you and then tips your hips just slightly, suddenly hitting the perfect spot. You’re incoherent, animal, as you moan and whimper, stuttering to another orgasm under his ministrations.

You don’t have to find a way to ask him to remove his fingers as the waves of your orgasm roll through you but just as you are about to breathe a sigh of relief, his mouth is back on you. He’s gentle this time, more patient. He kisses your lips, licks through your folds slowly, moaning, his brows knitting together because it’s been so long since he’s tasted you and there’s nothing he’d ever rather eat. He buries his tongue in your hole, bumping your clit with his nose; if it were anyone else, it might be accidental, but you know Jungkook knows your body perfectly and knows exactly what he's doing. You’re raw, over-wrought, dehydrated. Your vision swims and your voice gets stuck in your throat, able only to gasp and stutter, not even able to scream his name out loud as you scream it in your head. Your hands tremble, one pushing back the hair on your head, the other finding its way to Jungkook’s hair, tangling there as if you could even dream of giving him direction right now.

His eyes flick to yours and they’re black, pupils dilated, lids fluttering quickly to a close again as he moans, vibrating lips sealing around your screamingly sensitive clit. Your hand pulls sharply at his hair, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You feel like every atom in your body has been electrified, every touch, every movement – yours or his – sending sparks straight to your core, where they’re churned up into a tight ball. Like the death of a star, your body collapses in on itself, contracting and tightening as you are reduced to little more than a silent scream, and then explodes, a supernova of ecstasy exploding within you, scattering bits of you all over the room.

When you open your eyes, you can see stars wherever you look, which isn’t far because you can’t find it within you to move a single muscle.

“You ok, my love?”

Jungkook’s face swims into view, a dopey grin on his sticky, wet face. He looks drunk or high or both. He pushes the hair off your face, your flushed cheeks, fucked-out, dilated pupils staring straight at him; he thinks you look high or drunk or both. He kisses you so you can taste yourself on his lips and you’re suddenly hungry again.

“Kookie.” Your voice is hoarse and low, still strangled with need.

Jungkook hums against your mouth as he lifts you up, pressing your back into the back of the sofa.

“Kookie.”

You manage to grab his face between your palms and hold him still, giving you a chance to focus on him, see him properly.

“Tell me what you need,” he says, as eager to please and energetic as a new puppy and you have no idea how. He should be tired; he knows he’s going to crash hard, but right now, there’s adrenaline surging through him like there’s no tomorrow. He’s wired; he’s excited; he feels almost manic with love and lust and he’s so high, he can’t see the ground. He feels like he could go all night and he’s certainly going to try.

“I need you inside me, right now, right this second. Please, please, please.”

You aren’t exactly unaccustomed to begging but nothing will stop the stream of ‘please’s tumbling from your mouth. Nothing, that is, except the head of Jungkook’s perfect cock in your folds, waiting, teasing at your entrance.

He’s lifted you again, setting you on the arm of the sofa, him kneeling on the cushions; with nothing to rest against, you cling to him tight as your breath catches in your throat. He watches closely as he pushes into the tight, wet slip of your cunt, watching himself disappear into you. You want to make a joke about lasting another ten seconds but you don’t have the energy, the capacity, the mental agility to make it; you just about manage to cry his name as starts to thrust, smooth and slow at first, but soon, quicker, harder, accompanied by quiet growls and grunts as he grips you tight. You really do feel drunk, giddy, hysterical as he’s finally, finally back where he belongs. You feel tears prick in your eyes at the relief of it, the pressure, the pleasure.

“God, I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “Shit, I can’t wait to fill you up, stuff you fucking full. Can you take it, baby?”

He’s relieved he hasn’t come again already, though he knows he could. He’s holding back because he’s still so close to the edge. If he isn’t careful, he’s going to lose it again.

“I can take it,” you reply, voice high and tight. “Give it to me, Kookie- fuck.”

He grabs the hair at the back of your head and pulls it back, exposing your neck so he can kiss you, lick you, bite you there, moaning against your skin as you whimper and stutter.

“Kookie, shit, please. I need you to fuck me forever. God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he grunts. “Shit, won’t stop. I’m yours, baby.”

“Only mine.”

“Only yours.”

You press your lips to his clavicle, then lick a bead of sweat travelling down his throat. Jungkook moves faster still, his grip on you painfully tight as he threatens your cervix with every thrust. You’re so sensitive, you’re at an almost constant spasm around him; your limbs still heavy and weak, tingling like they’re both going numb and coming back to life. You simultaneously want this to last forever and feel like you’ll die if a single extra ounce of pleasure is put on you. Then Jungkook sucks at that one spot on your neck that makes you melt and you swear, voice wavering and breaking.

“Give me one more, baby,” he demands, so low you almost don’t hear it.

“I don’t have it,” you whimper.

“Yes, you do, c’mon, y/n.”

And he slips a hand between you, never letting his pace falter.

“Jesus, fuck!”

He touches you gently, but it’s enough to have reality slipping from view, your vision burning white, your blood roaring, screaming in your ears as you cum again. You hold him tight, your nails digging into his back, your teeth hard on the delicate flesh of his neck. It rolls through you, knocking your breath from your lungs, and once it’s passed, you’re trembling, shaking.

Jungkook is holding his breath, straining to last to fuck you through your orgasm; you’re so tight around him it’s like his brain loses signal, just a siren wailing an emergency. No thoughts, no words, when you collapse against him, he exhales, and releases into you with a long, high-pitched sigh.

He lies back onto the sofa, taking you with him.

“That was more than ten seconds, right?” he asks, breathless.

You laugh and pat his shoulder.

“Well done, little jammy dodger; I’m proud of you.”

“For lasting more than ten seconds or winning the title?”

“What title?”

The question leaves your lips before your brain has engaged and Jungkook laughs, first a little and then a lot, so much that you can’t help but laugh with him, can’t help but laugh until you’re crying, your abs hurting, you’re silent in your mirth, breathless and voiceless and hysterical.

When you finally stop, you bring your face level to his. He still has tears of laughter in his eyes and streaking his cheeks. You wipe them away with your thumb and he turns his head to kiss your palm.

“Both, I guess?” you answer.

He grins and shakes his head.

“I almost lost. I thought I was going to fucking lose,” he tells you. “That second half, I-…”

“What happened?”

“I saw you. I saw you in the crowd and I almost fucking came right then and there.” He laughs, though it was anything but funny at the time. “I couldn’t concentrate on the fight; all I could think about was trying not to get a fucking boner. Shit what a stupid fucking idea it was not having sex for four we-”

“I fucking told you!”

“I know, I know. I will never not listen to you ever again for the rest of my life, I swear. God.”

“No more sex bans?”

“No more sex bans. I am never, ever not having sex with you again.”

“Good.”

You lift yourself onto your elbows on his chest and kiss him first on the lips, then the jaw and neck and anywhere within reach.

“Speaking of never not having sex… Are you ready to go again?”

[slut4thebroken]

Tease

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x girlfriend!reader

Summary | You show up to work wearing something he’s never seen on you before and, because of his reaction, decide to tease him for the entire day.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, kissing, lowkey public sex?, thigh fucking, groping, grinding, misogyny?, a tiny bit of angst, sexual tension, creampie hehe, humiliation, praise, overstimulation, orgasm delay/denial, Neil is down bad for reader lowkey (highkey).

Words | 6.1 k

Notes | idk I just like horny simp Neil.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“W-what are you wearing?” He choked out, almost dropping the stack of tapes in his arms. 

“What?” You asked. He glanced at your legs as you walked closer, then turned around as you passed him to go clock in. 

“What the hell are you wearing?” He tried again, firmer this time. You turned around, your brows furrowed in confusion, and his eyes kept going from your legs to your face. 

“What? Neil, they're called shorts. It’s literally the middle of summer.” 

“Those,” he held the tapes in one arm and gestured wildly at your legs with the other, “are not shorts. Those are practically underwear for fucks sake.” The door suddenly opened and you both turned to the customer walking in. 

“Hi, welcome!” You called out, giving him a warm smile. He murmured out a response then started browsing the shelves. “We can talk about you and your fragile masculinity later.” You whispered to Neil, making his mouth fall open. 

“Me being concerned about my girlfriend showing off her ass does not mean I have fragile masculinity.” He hissed back. 

“It’s not even out and you don’t decide what I fucking wear, Neil. Get over yourself.” You spat. 

“Yes it is!” He yelled, but quickly lowered his voice when the customer looked over. 

“No, it’s not.” You seethed, then reached for the waistband of your jeans and pulled them up even more, giving yourself a minor wedgie just to spite him. “But now it is!” You said with a saccharine smile as you flipped him off and turned back around to continue what you were originally trying to do. You heard him choke behind you and you knew his whole face was red from anger and arousal. The thought made you smirk. 

You didn’t intend for him to react this way. You just woke up late and threw on the first pair of shorts you could find. Sure these were from a few years ago… but they didn’t fit that much differently. Or so you thought. But it’s more fun to tease him like this. 

After setting down your bag and clocking in, you walked to the back to grab a box and start shelving the returned tapes. Neil manned the register, sometimes clearing his throat and stuttering if you were in his eyeline. The store was empty again and he grabbed a few tapes to start putting away. Once you knew he was about to be behind you, you bent over to put a tape on a lower shelf, then almost immediately heard a loud crash. You stood up and turned around, finding him clutching one of the racks to keep it from tipping over as the tapes in his hands laid scattered at his feet. 

“Are you okay, Neil?” You asked innocently, making him look at you again with a scowl. “Let me help you with those.” You walked over and dropped to your knees in front of him, then got down on your hands to stick your ass out as you collected the tapes. You grabbed a few and leaned back up, holding them out for him, but he was frozen, staring at you with wide eyes and parted lips. His gaze wasn’t even on your face, it was on your low cut tank top that had slipped down a little and exposed the top part of your bra. 

“I’m not going to sit here forever, do you want them or not?” Almost as if he was in a trance, he raised his arms, letting you set the tapes in his hands. You leaned back down, sticking your ass up farther this time, and collected the rest of the tapes. You stayed on your knees as you handed them to him, but got back up once the door opened again. You greeted the person and Neil continued gawking at your body. Honestly you almost started to feel bad for him, but this was too amusing for you to stop now. 

The day dragged on slowly. You ended up cleaning the floors and the couches a little, collecting all of the trash and pieces of popcorn lodged in the sides and between the cushions. You leaned down to look under the couch and spotted more trash, but it was too far back for you to reach it. 

“Hey, Neil?” You called out, sticking your ass up and arching your back more. You heard a loud stomp, as if he had tripped, then he muttered curses to himself, making you smirk. You looked over your shoulder at him, still staying in that position, and his eyes were practically glued to your ass. 

“Y-yeah?” He asked, voice cracking embarrassingly. He cleared his throat and forced his gaze to your eyes. 

“Can you just move the couch back a little? I can’t reach the trash under here and I’m not strong enough to move it myself.” You are. He probably knows that. But he agreed anyway. 

He stepped forward and pushed one arm of the couch back, then walked over to the other side to do the same thing. You shuffled closer on your knees and arched your back even more to press your chest flat on the ground so part of your shoulder could get under the couch— You weren’t lying when you said you couldn’t reach it, but you could’ve used a broom or something. 

“Almost.. got it…” You groaned, reaching farther. “Fuck— c’mon… I’m so close.” You muttered, but in your bedroom voice. Your fingers brushed the trash, but you didn’t grab it yet, wanting to drag this out a little more. You let out a whine of discomfort at your position and tried to reach further under the couch. “Almost there… so close— so fucking close.” You all but moaned, wiggling your ass a bit. You were being pretty obvious by now so he had to have known what you were doing, but he still didn’t say anything. 

Deciding to be done now, mostly because your knees were actually starting to hurt like this, you moaned quietly and pretended to reach further. Once you grabbed the trash, you let out the noise you usually make when you lay down after you finish riding him— a mixture of a huff and a groan. You scooched back out, shaking your ass a bit as you did so, then leaned up with a heavy breath. You held up the trash with a proud smile. 

“I got it!” He was completely frozen, lips parted, eyes wide, entire face and neck flushed, and you could see the large bulge in the pants now. You stood up finally and placed a hand on his bicep. “What would I do without my big, strong boyfriend to move couches for me?” You said teasingly, giving him unnecessary praise just to fuck with him more. 

“I— You… That..” 

“Hm?” You tilted your head a little, giving him a chance to try again. The door opened again and you greeted the customer before taking a step away from him. 

“But— you…” He all but whined, giving you puppy dog eyes as you started backing away. 

“Neil, we can’t just stand here all day. We actually have to work.” You said with a quiet laugh and a warm smile. 

“Excuse me?” A man called out, so you walked over to him. “I was just wondering what action movies you’d recommend?” You could feel Neil’s eyes on you as you walked over to that section and pointed out different films that you liked until he picked one. “What about comedies?” You walked over to that section, him trailing along behind you as you started listing out different titles and descriptions. 

The only response you were getting was “uh huh” or “yeah” so you turned back around just in time to see his eyes snap up to your face. You brushed it off and kept talking until he picked one. 

“Will that be all for today?” You asked. 

“No… I have one more question actually. What adult films do you recommend?” Your eyes widened as you stared at him, thinking he was joking, but he was completely serious. 

“I-I’m not really sure I’m qualified to give you a good recommendation for that.” You said awkwardly. 

“I’m not interested in watching something a man likes. I’m asking you so I can learn what women like— maybe pick up a thing or two.” It was hard to tell whether he was smiling or smirking. 

“Oh. Then uh… I guess I can help.” You glanced at Neil, who was already watching you, then cleared your throat and led him to that section. “If you want something that accurately portrays female pleasure, I’d recommend this one.” You pointed to it and the man nodded, waiting for you to continue. “That’ll probably be your best bet for learning new stuff.” You shrugged. 

“What’s your favorite though?” Now he was definitely smirking. 

“Um…” You cleared your throat with a blush and turned toward the shelves. “I’ve seen this one once or twice.” 

“That’s not what I asked, sweetheart.” He chuckled. You were suddenly really regretting wearing the clothes you chose today. 

“Need some help?” Neil asked and you all but breathed a sigh of relief. The man’s expression dropped as he turned to face him. 

“What, you don’t trust a woman to help me pick out a decent film?” He tried turning the situation into something it’s not, but Neil didn’t budge. 

“Not because she’s a woman. She’s new, barely been here a week. As the owner, I’m sure I’m more than qualified to help you though.” He gave the man a fake smile, making him scoff and roll his eyes. 

“Whatever. This store is weird as shit and you’re a fucking tease.” He spat, dropping the films to the floor and walking out. You quickly pulled your shorts down as far as you could and crossed your arms over your body. God— you felt so stupid. In what universe would dressing like this in public ever end well for you? This could’ve easily been done on a day off, spent at home where no one can see. 

“What a fucking creep.” He muttered, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“I- I think I’m gonna look in the back for something to change into.” You said quietly, feeling like you were about to cry. Honestly you just wanted to go home, but it’s only you and Neil today. You can’t leave him on his own. You kept your head down as you walked past him, but he gently grabbed your wrist to stop you. 

“Hey— wait, baby.” You took a deep breath and bit your trembling lip as he turned you around to face him. When he cupped your cheek, you couldn’t hold the emotions in anymore. 

“I’m sorry, Neil. I- I didn’t… I was just trying to have fun but,” A choked sob cut you off and he shushed you as he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around your body tightly. 

“It’s not your fault. If it were your fault then every customer would have acted the same way. That guy was just a dick.” He cradled the back of your head as you buried your face in his chest. 

“If you really want to change, I’m not going to stop you. But if you want, I’ll give you my shirt and you can stay behind the counter for the rest of the day.” You still.. technically wanted to continue whatever game you were playing. But you just felt so unattractive and gross and stupid and turned off. “Or you can go home, baby. There’s only a couple hours left and weekdays are usually slow anyway.” 

“No. No I can’t… I can’t leave you here alone.” You croaked, lifting your head up to look at him. “I- I’ll just wear your shirt.” Honestly you wanted to wear sweatpants and a hoodie right now, but his scent was already starting to calm you. Maybe it could calm you even more while you finished working. 

“Are you sure?” You nodded and stepped back, sniffling as you subconsciously covered your body again. He only hesitated for a moment before unbuttoning it and taking it off, leaving him in just a t-shirt. He helped you into it then gave you a soft kiss on your forehead, making you blush. 

The rest of the day went by slowly. Only two other people came in, one of which was a man, but you felt safe hidden behind the counter and in his shirt. Neil finally locked the door and turned the sign to say ‘closed’ while letting out a heavy breath. He walked back over to you and stood on the other side of the counter, leaning his elbows on it to get closer to you. 

“Can I help you?” You giggled, getting flustered by the proximity. 

“Why yes actually. My girlfriend had a rough day today and I want to bring home a film to cheer her up. What would you recommend?” Despite the reminder of what had happened today, a small smile creeped up on your lips. 

“Are you sure she wants a movie? There are plenty of other ways a guy could cheer a girl up.” You said suggestively, trying not to laugh. 

“Really? Well, do you have any recommendations for that?” He continued playing along, doing much better at containing his laughter than you. 

“She might like a kiss. That’s always a good start…” You said quietly as you glanced at his lips. 

“And what should I do after that?” He rasped, leaning even further across the counter. 

“I have a few ideas… but she might want you to surprise her instead.” Your voice was getting embarrassingly breathless now. 

“She hates surprises.” He whispered. 

“Not this kind.” You said, just as quiet. You were subconsciously leaning closer until you could feel his breath fanning your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut and your nose brushed his for only a moment before he finally connected your lips. Letting out a quiet sigh, you leaned even closer to him and brought a hand up to run through his hair. He pulled back far too soon and you whined as you tried to pull him closer by his hair, but he just let out a breathy chuckle in response. 

“Let’s go to the couch.” 

“We should go home, Neil… People can still see inside and it feels wrong to fuck on a public couch.” You said with a quiet laugh, even though you wanted him now. 

“Who said anything about fucking?” He didn’t let you get another word in before walking over and plopping down onto the couch. You followed, but he stopped you as you started to sit. “No. Continue your little game from earlier.” You blushed and averted your gaze, suddenly getting shy. 

“Neil…” But you didn’t know what to say. 

“I think there’s a tape stuck in the VHS player. Can you try getting it out?” There was no tape, his tone made that obvious, but so did the bulge in his pants— he wouldn’t ever have you do something work related after hours, especially while he’s horny. “Or it can wait until tomorrow and we can head home.” He was giving you an out, letting you stop the scene if you were uncomfortable, without feeling awkward about it. 

“No, I’ll give it a try.” You smiled, then shuffled over to the tv on your knees. Putting one hand on the ground, you stuck your ass out just the slightest amount while your other hand pretended to do stuff on the device. “Any suggestions?” You looked over your shoulder and his eyes snapped up to your face from your ass. 

“Maybe there’s a cord unplugged or a cable loose or something.” He gestured to the floor, so you lowered your chest down and pretended to look at all the wires down there. “Anything?” 

“Not that I can see.”

“Try getting a little closer maybe.” You shuffled closer, then wiggled your hips a bit as you ‘searched.’

“I don’t know, Neil… Everything looks normal.” 

“I’ll call someone about it then. Thank you for trying, baby.” You leaned back up and turned to face him, still on your knees. 

“Anything else you need me to do?” You asked innocently, making him chuckle. 

“I’m not gonna overwork my best employee. Come up here.” He patted his thigh and you scrambled to your feet to go straddle him. Your hands settled on his shoulders and his grabbed your hips. “You should wear my clothes more often. They look good on you.” He murmured, leaning forward to trail kisses over your neck. 

“Better than my own clothes?” You smirked, making him laugh breathily against you. 

“Definitely not.” He kissed up to your ear, then down your jaw until his lips brushed yours. This time you leaned forward. When he squeezed your hips tighter, you moaned quietly and brought your hands up to tug on his hair. The kiss was messy and desperate, releasing hours worth of pent up sexual tension in just that one simple action. 

His hands snaked around to your ass and he groped you almost painfully, making you gasp out a moan. He took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside your now open mouth and licked into the kiss. You were panting as much as you could while being kissed and he started pulling your hips to grind on his covered cock. You whimpered and tightened your grip on his hair, making him let out a low groan and pull back enough to speak. 

“These fucking shorts…” He gruffed, pulling you harder against him. “Were you trying to kill me? Honestly I should have you arrested for attempted murder.” You giggled at that— his humor during moments like this were your favorite. When he suddenly pulled his hand back and brought it down hard on your ass, you yelped embarrassingly in surprise. He was back to groping you, using his grip to help you grind on his bulge. 

His hands snaked up to the waistband of your shorts and he pulled them up even further, making you whine and bury your face in the crook of his neck. The motion gave him a better view so he grabbed your ass again and tilted it up more, arching your back almost uncomfortably to get a good look. Even if you weren’t currently grinding on him, the seam of your shorts would’ve been enough to leave you panting and moaning, desperate for more. He slid his fingers under the leg holes and pulled them up even more, then started moving your hips even faster. 

“Let me see your tits, baby.” He whispered, making you whine, but lift yourself up anyway. He never stopped moving your hips as you reached for the top button on his shirt and slowly worked your way down. “I can’t fucking take this anymore, please let me see.” He whined, his hips bucking up into you now. Once his shirt was unbuttoned, you shrugged it off, letting it fall to the floor. You were practically spilling out of your bra and he removed one hand to tug down the front of your tank top and expose even more of you. 

“Fuck…” He groaned, leaning forward and kissing across your chest. He started mouthing at your nipple through the bra, making you whine at the lack of real stimulation. 

“Neil…” You tried to beg. 

“You did this to yourself, baby. Dressing like this.. bending over for me and sticking your ass out… kneeling and giving me a perfect view of your tits.” He landed a rough smack on your ass, making you jolt. “That was all you. Now it’s time to accept the consequences of your actions.” 

“Please!” 

“No. Get up.” You pouted, but stood on shaky legs, watching him lay down. “On my lap facing away from me.” He ordered. You tentatively crawled onto him and straddled his hips, looking back at him over your shoulder as you waited for the next command. 

“Give me a show, baby.” You whined once you understood what he wanted. Placing your hands on his thighs to brace yourself, you started rocking your hips, grinding on his bulge. He groaned quietly behind you. 

“Stop.” Your hips slowed to a stop and you waited in anticipation. “Pull them up more,”

“But I already basically have a wedgie, Neil!” You pouted, moaning when he slapped your ass again. 

“Up.” He growled. You huffed, but moved your hands to the waist and pulled them up more. “Now hold them there and keep going. Faster.” You whined as you adjusted your position to start grinding on him without being able to steady yourself. “Higher.” He spanked you again, forcing a whimper out of you. You lifted them even more until it was almost starting to hurt. 

“Good girl.” He groaned. Your thighs were starting to burn, but every time you slowed, you got another spank, each one harder than the last. After a while he huffed— and probably rolled his eyes. “Lay down.” You finally let go of your shorts and leaned forward so you were laying between his legs. He groped your ass, pulling your cheeks apart and pushing the shorts up to expose more skin. When his thumb ran over your mound, you jolted with a startled moan. 

“Holy fucking shit.” He chuckled, making you stiffen. What the hell was so funny? “You soaked through the fucking jeans!” He laughed loudly and your whole face flushed in embarrassment. “Oh my god this is priceless. You’re really that horny?”  

“Stop teasing me, Neil.” You whined with a frown. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” You could tell by his tone that he wasn’t. 

“You’re being mean.” You pouted and he rubbed over your clit a little harder now, making your hips flinch back toward the pleasure. 

“I’m being mean… It’s not like you spent the entire day teasing me…” 

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered, hips squirming. He shushed you and removed his hands from your body, making you whine quietly. When you heard his belt, you paused. “Neil?” You asked quietly, but he ignored you. Clothes were rustling and he was shifting under you until he grabbed your thighs, pushed him together. 

“Thighs together. Feet over my shoulders.” He demanded and you finally realized what was happening. 

“Neil, no. I’m sorry— please fuck me.” He smacked your thigh this time, making you cry out. You dropped your head onto the couch with a whine, but moved into the position he wanted. His cock was pressed firmly between both thighs and against your covered heat, and you left out a long, bratty whine to protest. It cut off into a yelp though when he slapped you again. 

“Stop it.” You felt like a child with the way he reprimanded you. His hands settled on your hips and he lifted you a little, giving himself just enough room to thrust up into you. “Squeeze my cock, baby.” You whined, but squeezed your legs together and he started bucking his hips, fucking your thighs. 

When you tried to slip a hand between your bodies to rub your covered clit, he slapped your thigh again, much harder this time. 

“Hands behind your back.” He demanded, making you whine. 

“Neil, please! I said I’m sorry— please just fuck me…” Your voice trailed off into a pathetic whimper toward the end of your begging. 

“Hands behind your back or I’ll come like this and we’ll be done.” He warned. You sobbed out a moan, but put your hands behind your back. “Good girl. While you’re at it, pull those shorts up more.” With a quiet whine, you moved your hands down to grab the waistband of your shorts and pull a little. They were already up so high, there wasn’t really anywhere for them to go, but Neil wasn’t satisfied. 

“You wanted to parade around and show off your ass so fucking show me.” He growled and you tried pulling again. 

“Can’t, Neil.” You whined.

“If you want me to fuck you then you need to figure it out.” You wanted to cry out and kick your feet— throw a tantrum basically. But that wouldn’t get you what you wanted. 

You reached down a little more and grabbed each leg hole, then pulled. The fabric was digging into your cunt in a way that was pleasurable for a while, but was quickly becoming painful with the more force you used. It was also just uncomfortable having a wedgie with something so thick. 

“Better.” You knew he meant ‘better, but not good enough’ so you pulled them up more. 

“Hurts..” You whined with a pout. 

“Poor baby.” He cooed condescendingly. “If only you hadn't been a tease all day.” He started bucking his hips up faster and grunting quietly as he panted. It sounded like he was close and you frowned at the realization. “More.” He ordered breathlessly. “Pull them up until your eyes get as wet as your cunt and you’re begging me for mercy.”

You cursed under your breath and bit your lip as you pulled even harder. It was so hard doing this to yourself. If he had done it, then you probably could’ve endured the pain, but you were having a hard time doing it to yourself. 

“I don’t hear any crying or begging.” He hinted. With a quiet whine, you yanked the shorts hard enough to make the sound turn into a pained cry. More than half of your ass was exposed now and even though this was painful and degrading, it was making you needier. Needy for his touch, his praise… needy for him. So you kept pulling, letting out a strangled sob and burying your face in the cushion, trying not to think about the fact that this is a public couch. 

“Good girl.” He groaned, tightening his grip on your hips and bucking up even faster now. “God these shorts are so fucking hot…” He moaned breathlessly. “Maybe I’ll start enforcing a work uniform…” You didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. “Since you seem to love showing off your ass so much.” He removed one hand from your hip to spank your ass, then immediately put it back. You let out a startled moan and instinctively squeezed your thighs tighter together when your body tensed up, making him choke on a moan as his thrusts faltered. 

“Holy shit… Keep squeezing me like that, baby.” His voice was even more breathy now. You kept your thighs firmly pressed together, even as he cursed and moaned loudly when his orgasm finally hit. Most of his come landed on your thighs but some of it covered your ass and shorts as well. His sounds quieted and he loosened his grip on your hips, letting you lay on him as you relaxed your thighs. 

“Neil…” You whined, on the verge of tears. 

“I know, baby.” He said through a breath as he continued panting, trying to calm down. “Lean back up.” You let go of your shorts and moved your legs forward so you were kneeling again. “I’m not done looking at your ass in those shorts and I need a minute before we can continue so ride my thigh.” 

“Neil, please.” You sobbed out, trying to turn around but he grabbed your hips again. 

“Stop fucking complaining and just do it.” He gruffed, making you whine. 

“Please! Please just fuck me already— I can’t take this!” You cried, vision going blurry with tears. 

“Fine.” He huffed, pushing you off of him as he sat up, but remained facing the center of the couch. He grabbed one of the pillows and threw it on the couch beside you. “Ride that instead.” Once he saw your expression, he continued. “Ride it or we’re done for today.” Your gaze shifted between him and the pillow as your bottom lip started trembling. He sighed and scooched closer to cup your cheek. 

“I know you’re needy, baby. You’ve been such a good girl for me. Can you keep being good just a little longer? Then I’ll give you what you want.” He said softly, making you practically melt. Hesitantly, you gave a small nod, biting your lip. “That’s my girl.” He whispered before leaning closer and giving you a gentle kiss. You tried not to frown when he pulled away then moved back to his position on the far end of the couch. 

With a quiet sigh, you turned around and straddled the pillow. His come was already staining it— you’ll have to remember to take it home to wash. You closed your legs a bit to keep it in place, then slowly started grinding on it, spreading the mess. Honestly, the jeans were doing more for you than the pillow was, but you had to be good. You wanted to be good for him. He cursed under his breath, so you sped up a little, trying to put on a show for him. 

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, making you blush. You were whining now, speeding up and letting out quiet whimpers and moans each time you rocked your hips. You needed more so badly. 

“Neil,” You murmured, still trying to be good while vocalizing how you were feeling. 

“Is it not enough?” He cooed, almost sympathetically, and you shook your head with a quiet sob. “Okay, baby. Take them off now.” You could’ve cried in relief when he finally gave you permission. You removed the shorts quickly and discarded them and the pillow on the floor. “Underwear too.” You complied eagerly, then you were facing him, staring at him with wide, pleading eyes. 

“Please fuck me.” You whimpered. 

“Lay down.” He said softly, moving off of the couch to give you more room. He stroked his cock a little, bringing himself back to full hardness. Once you were laying down, he crawled over you, forcing your legs open as his body settled between them. 

“You’re such a good girl.” He whispered, giving you another kiss. This one was longer and a little more passionate than the last. He pulled back but kept his face close, his nose brushing yours as you both panted. When he lined his cock up with your drooling hole, your breath hitched. He pushed in slowly, forcing you to feel every inch as he filled you. “Fuck you’re so wet.” He said through a breath, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against yours. He took a moment to compose himself, only moving when you started whining and squirming. “Okay, okay. I know.” He chuckled quietly, making you pout. But the expression left instantly when he slowly dragged out before pushing back in at the same speed. 

“Neil,” You gasped out, clinging to his shoulders and digging your nails into his skin as you whimpered. He hissed and his hips stuttered before he sped up a little. 

“So good for me…” He whispered, voice barely audible. “Take my cock so fucking good.” You whined loudly and pulled him down to bury your face in the crook of his neck, trailing sloppy kisses over it since you could barely focus. He kept the pace slow and sensual for a while, panting lightly and caressing you softly. 

“Please.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm quickly approaching. “Neil, please.”

“I know, baby.” He said through a breath, speeding up a little more. “Your little pussy’s just aching to come on my cock, huh?” He snaked a hand down and started rubbing your clit. That action, along with his words, had you mewling and arching your back up into him, desperately trying to get closer to the edge. 

“Please,” Was the only response you could give. 

“Be a good girl and beg for it.” He said teasingly, making you let out a long, bratty whine. 

“Please make me come, Neil. I need it.” You whimpered, giving him puppy dog eyes. “Please— it hurts.” 

“Oh, it hurts? You poor thing.” He cooed mockingly, holding back a smirk. 

“Please! I’m sorry for teasing, Neil. Please let me come.” His fingers sped up on your clit, forcing a choked moan out of you. “I’m so close… I’m so close— please,” You started babbling out senseless pleas, getting closer to the edge. 

“Okay, baby. You can come now.” You almost cried in relief. 

“Thank you! Fuck.. thank you,” You moaned. By now your hips couldn’t stop moving, trying to get more pleasure out of his thrusts and his hand on your clit. He didn’t reprimand you for it though. When he leaned down and started kissing your neck, the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped. 

You cried out, clinging to him desperately as hours worth of pent up arousal finally exploded. Tears were brimming in your eyes from the intensity and you could just barely hear his moans through how loud your own were. 

“Good girl.” He murmured, kissing your neck just below your ear. Your body trembled as he worked you through it, only moving his hand away from your clit when you finally sagged into the couch. You whined when he started thrusting faster and he shushed you. “I know, baby. I know it hurts, but just hold on for a little longer.” He begged and you couldn’t help the strangled sob that escaped you. It was too much. 

“Neil,” You whimpered. 

“You’re okay. Just a little longer, I promise.” His voice was getting breathier and more desperate as his thrusts became frantic, chasing his second orgasm. He pressed his lips to yours and he sped up even more somehow, making you cry out into the kiss. 

“It hurts,” You sobbed quietly, making him pull away from your lips, but not stop thrusting. 

“I’m so close, baby. Just let me come— let me come and I promise I’ll be done.” Even though he was technically “asking” you to let him do that, you knew he wasn’t really asking. “Fuck— fuck, I’m…” He choked out, cutting off into a whine as his hips stuttered, then finally slammed all the way in. Your whimper wasn’t heard over his loud groan each time he bucked his hips, trying to go impossibly deeper. You could feel the heat of it inside you, making your clit just barely start throbbing again. His movements finally stopped and he panted against your neck as he recovered. 

“Fuck…” He breathed, laughing quietly. You couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “Are you okay?” He finally leaned up to look at you, getting concerned by the tears still in your eyes. Instead of responding, you pulled him down into a kiss, feeling his cock give a little twitch inside you. When you pulled back, there was a love-struck smile on your face. 

“Mhm.” You hummed and he chuckled at your response. 

“We shouldn’t have done this here because now you’re sleepy and you’re gonna complain the whole time when I make you get up so we can go home.” He said amusedly. 

“I absolutely am gonna complain the whole time.” You smirked, making him scoff teasingly. He slowly pulled out and both of you hissed because of how sensitive you were. He pushed your legs open more to watch his come trickle out of you. Letting out a low groan, he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief. 

“I will never fucking get tired of this sight, I swear.” You blushed in embarrassment and looked away from him. When his fingers swiped through your folds, you jolted. He didn’t do much else other than keep his come from dripping onto the couch, but he quickly grabbed your shorts and put them back on. 

“Wait— Neil, I kind of need underwear.” He was undeterred and continued until they were around your hips, making you cringe at the feeling. 

“We’re gonna go home and you’re gonna stay covered in my fucking come until we get there and I can give you another load.” His voice was low and somehow still thick with arousal, making your stomach flutter. 

“Too much of a coward to do it before we get there?” You smirked, daring him. It’s dark out now and there are plenty of places you could stop on the short walk home. 

“That’s cute.” He deadpanned, making your smirk widen. “Stand up.” He put his length back in his pants and buckled his belt as you got to your feet. As soon as he was standing next to you, he grabbed the back of the jeans and pulled them up, making you let out an embarrassing yelp. Once a decent amount of your ass was hanging out of the bottom, he let go and put his shirt back on, leaving you in what you came in with so you couldn’t cover yourself. 

“After you.” He smirked, smacking your ass when you turned around to head for the door. 

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